We were supposed to have it all but… she died… the love of my life… she died. So now, at evening's 6:49 on April 11th, I'll turn back the clock to do everything better!
.
.
.
༺✧۩ † ۩✧༻
• ← • REWIND • → •
《Chapter I》
'April 11th/ Turn back the clock'
.
.
.
We've known each other since grade school. Now that I think about it, it's sad we didn't get to talking until middle school. She was what the other kids often referred to as a 'tomboy' whilst I was the well-known problem child. I still remember the time day she sucker-punched me for making her best friend – Bubbles - cry. I could still laugh at how she made both my eyes black for calling the girl cry baby cause well… Bubbles really knew how to let the waterworks go. A butterfly could have made her cry.
But this story isn't about Bubbles, so I'll continue. By high school, we were different people. We were closer, more inclined to each other and I spent so much time with her that we ultimately became best friends. I replaced Mitch. Heck, I even think I replaced Butch; it was just me and her against the world. We could have changed the world. He had it all.
But we never even noticed that until it was too late.
The most frightful time in her life, she came to me. Me. A simpleton. I wasn't Blossom, I wasn't Bubbles. Just Brick, the guy from around the block. The idiot who got suspended for someone else's cigarette. The dumbass who took the fall because of pride. I wasn't worthy of her trust. I knew that; heck, I still know that.
But she gave it to me anyway.
My best friend.
I miss you.
I still remember the fear in her eyes from that afternoon. She held within her hands a letter from her dream college; Genuisville U. I believe. Something she'd plan with her two girlfriends as they mapped their futures together. Blossom didn't say it, but she gave up Cornell to go there for her sake – overheard her parents and mines begging her to go – and Bubbles just went wherever Blossom went because it seemed like the easiest thing to do. But there she was, shivering with fright as she clutched the letter in her hand.
"It's thin." She whimpered. She looked so lost. So weak; broken, un-Buttercup. Scared. "Like, really thing Brick, it's thin."
I knew.
"Come in," I remembered saying, bringing her into my kitchen for a quick glass of soda. She watched the bubbles float to the top and pop, then watched the water condense and fall to the bottom. This trivial cycle played in her mind as she distracted herself from what was her fate.
I already knew the answer, but I wanted to be there for her.
"We'll open it together," I remember saying. The way she clutched onto the paper broke a part of me, and for her sake, I gently patted her back, rubbing small circles into her more tense regions.
"I can't," she said, and I remember leaving her to gripe about it for an hour or so.
"Just open it." I relented and I remembered how hard she fought to keep the waterworks from falling.
I stayed in Townsville for her. For the sake of her mental well-being; I stayed. The people of Townsville were backward. Fearful of change and bigoted. But she was my friend, my best friend.
And I loved her dearly.
After a while, a part of me questioned if I wanted more. It happened two years after we graduated high school. I sat restlessly at my study desk taking notes from my recording of that day's lecture… I think it was materials class or something… I remembered the work being too difficult to wing. Anyway, Buttercup, already stressing over her own finals, had herself sprawled on my bed whilst she discussed the nitty gritty details of her recent breakup.
She said that he wasn't what she thought him to be. Some bullshit about the spark being gone and that he was a lame ass fella. That he only wanted to do things that he liked and never what she wanted. That he didn't understand the concept of compromise. That they were different people and…
… and that she wished the guys were more like me.
More like me?
What the fuck's that supposed to mean.
So, I began thinking of the many ways she could have meant it. I remember it puzzled me to no ends and I even resorted to internet forums for was the second time that Buttercup had changed, and just as before, she became more interesting in my eyes. After losing weeks in thoughts of her stupid sentence, one thought came to mind; she just might like me.
Buttercup?
Likes me?
Nani dafuq?
Wild right? So I gave it some more thought… and this took a strain on my already troubled relationship with my then girlfriend. The girl was sunshine and a gumdrop... and also everything that teenaged me wanted but… I grew up.
I'm wasn't a teenager anymore and… I just wanted stability. The type of stability which could possibly stem from a lifelong friendship… or so I thought. I wasn't sure yet. I was young. I was confused… and even now… I think I'm still confused but…
I miss my best friend.
Then, I got a glimpse of her true beauty in the spring. Special thanks to Bubbles, she'd been wearing a dress. A frilly pastel which was a mood alongside the blossoming flowers and the snow. I remember chuckling to myself, the only thing on my mind was, "So beautiful,"
"What?"
"Nothing," I said, fixing the lens on the camera. It was freaking freezing for me. Never mind she wore leggings and a pair of mittens, I remember wondering how the hell did she look so warm and appetizing.
Appetizing? I meant appealing, right? Or was it inviting I meat to say?
Whatever it was, I remember feeling strange. But… she was my best friend, I always loved her presence, so I chucked it up to that.
"The flowers?" she asked, tucking her hair back. So silly of her. She wasn't used to the length of her hair, wasn't used to it falling in her face with every movement. Wasn't used to it being past her shoulders and having a life of its own.
"Here."
"What's this?"
"Shh, a hair clip," her ears had been so warm, and I knew I had been staring but… she didn't say anything that time. So, I acted like I didn't know what I was doing.
"Uh, thanks?" She asked, and she smiled so brightly at me that time. She looked at me as if I were her world… and… it wasn't the first time.
She was my best friend.
My best friend.
And I loved her… as my best friend.
We both graduated perfectly single. We shared a kiss on new years eve, but nothing progressed after that. We bumped teeth the first time and felt nothing the second. To be honest, I only hurt when I saw her leave. Well… I left too, moved to Citiesville and reconnected with Boomer and Butch. Even shared an apartment with the two goofs. Girls came and went but the idea of stability still waned on me.
It took the announcement of Blossom's second engagement for me to meet her beautiful green eyes again. It was by chance, almost as if it were fate, and time finally felt on my side again.
"Brick!" she waved, and I was so shocked to see her that time. We shared a hug on the streets and I made fun of her new hair color; chestnut brown. Buttercup initiated a hug. Could you believe how shocked I was? I loved seeing her light; it made me feel like to moon to her sun and I loved that entirely.
Love? Not yet… wait a little longer.
"It's serious this time, the engagement party is next week,"
"Whatever happened to – "
"She… uh broke his heart. We don't talk about him anymore. But this one's Dexter. Apparently, we went to high school together, but I dunno. Either way, I'm happy for her!" Buttercup had said. She'd seemed more confident now, happier, at peace with herself.
"I don't think you'd be invited even if she had the wedding."
"Harsh, but I'll give you one win," I had joked, playfully pushing her arm as always.
"Yeah, you're probably not invited to this one either," she had said and shuffled her feet on the pavement a bit, "So… want to be my plus one?"
It was funny how we fell back into place after years of distance and no contact. She felt natural, and I loved that aspect of her.
Love?
No, not yet.
"What about the mister?" I asked, peering for details. I'd hate to admit it, but she had been on my mind lately. I was twenty-eight by then… we were twenty-eight. I hadn't had a stable relationship in a while and I always wondered if I missed my mark years ago.
"My mister?" she awkwardly laughed. The way she swayed with he actions was cute, and she quickly apologized to the girl she'd bump into, "I should be asking you that, will there be an angry miss if you come along with me?"
"Not to my knowledge," I teased, and there it was again. We were flirting. She'd caress my face and I'd playfully nibble on her neck and then she'd leave before it got too serious.
What was it?
These were the questions I asked myself frequently these days. What were we doing? Was she serious? Was I? Buttercup?
What am I to you?
The cupcakes tasted nice. I think I believed that because I had been nibbling on it the whole time Buttercup had been gone. She was back at the bridesmaid table, catching up with longtime friends and I was stuck at… table number… I can't even remember. It was where they stuck all the bridal party's plus-one who didn't get an invite.
"That bitch really didn't invite me,"
"You never answered your phone,"
I rose my eyes in alarm, and there it was, the woman of the night, at my table. I looked behind her and saw Buttercup with her thumbs up, drinking a from a champagne glass with a glint of pride in her eyes.
"Congratulations," I remember saying, and I couldn't help but laugh at Buttercup's reaction from the distance. She was completely enjoying my surprise and she'd have to make it up to me later. I remembered Bubbles being a lightweight when we were younger, but now she seemed to be the queen of barflies.
"Don't say it"
I had to.
"Your cousin hasn't left the bar since… well,"
"Ugh," Blossom said, kneading her forehead, "But you should ask her out," she said. I didn't even bother to pretend I was confused. Amongst all the fake judging, I had been drinking too… and I probably couldn't muster a good poker face right now, so I deflected.
I probably shouldn't have.
"Last time we spoke, you told me that –"
"We don't say his name anymore,"
"You said he was the one,"
"Said, past tense. Things change… and are constantly changing. You should tell her,"
Never missing a beat, she maintained eye contact, "Say something, anything,"
"Hey," and there she was again, as my night in shining armor, "Boomer threw up on Butch's shoe and there might be a fight,"
"I'll get Bubbles," the bride had said in a flurry. So accustomed to expecting the worst from them, Blossom hadn't even realized Buttercup's blatant lie.
"Thanks," I said, and the warmth returned when she reclaimed her old seat.
"She looked beautiful right?" She said, and now Buttercup was acting weird again, "Hey Brick… remember what I said? When we were back in college?"
"Now we said a lot of things,"
"Yeah, but this one was serious,"
She was antsy, her thumbs were twiddling and… she couldn't look at me. "I'm getting old,"
"Every second,"
She looked serious.
"Blossom's married, Bubbles reconnected with the Blonde,"
"Boomer,"
"And…"
"Yes?"
"I'm getting old,"
"A fact," I don't know what had possessed me to take her hands that night, or as to why I let my self in either. By morning I knew what I was like to have my sheets smell like her. I knew the sound of her most private moments, and I knew she was serious about starting a family.
I should have embraced her earlier. I should have fought for her then. I should have told her my misguided emotions. I was scared. I was blinded. I was prideful.
I was confused.
She gave me everything and I got spoilt, so when she decided to head back home – Seattle apparently – I didn't want to tell her to stay. It was messed up but… I wanted her to like me more than I liked her. I wanted her to beg me to say the words I wanted to say. I was prideful. I was childish, I was foolish.
Then she turned thirty and I got the phone call.
"Happy Birthday!" I shouted but there was silence over the receiver, "Buttercup?"
"I'm ready,"
"Uh... okay,"
"You were serious back, then right?"
"Yes,"
And before I knew it, we were together. Three months strong and with much support from our family and peers. We bought a house and moved back to Townsville, two blocks away from Bubbles, a walk away from Butch and a half hour drive away from Blossom. I felt like my life was coming together and then we got the news that she was pregnant.
My best friend.
The mother of my child.
My whole world.
She's gone.
The baby's gone.
My life's gone.
I can't… breathe.
The house is empty. It's quiet. She's not baking bread. She's not yelling at me to season the meat. She's not baby proofing the house. Proof? I just scraped my arm on the broken countertop. The fire alarm is ringing. Water is dripping from the ceiling. Smoke is in the air.
Was I cooking?
Her scent is gone. The laundry's backed up. Her favorite licorice is still there. Her conditioner is finished. Her indoor shoes are still at the door. The crib hasn't been set up. The nursery walls are in need f a paint job. The smoke is thick now, there are sirens in the air.
There's a broken cellphone on the ground. There's a cramp rushing through my legs. She isn't yelling at me to get out. Why? She isn't laughing at how I screwed up her recipe. Why? She isn't quarreling about wasting her groceries again. Why? She isn't –
- fucking here now. Dammit!
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
WHY…. Didn't I tell her I love her? Why didn't we start this sooner? Why didn't I kiss her goodbye? Why didn't I go instead? Why her? Why not me?
FUCK!
A do-over?
What do you mean?
.
Then…
.
If I can go back in time…
And make everything right…
Then I'll make up for lost time…
And make you mines again.
.
.
.
April 11th. Never forget.
.
.
ஜ۩۞۩ஜ
.
.
.
The author prohibits any re-publication - whether it be by duplication, translation or adaption- of this story without permission.
A/N: A short multi fic. Hope you enjoy.