I decided to re-do this. Why? I don't know. I have a bad habit of rereading my work and then picking out stupid things I don't like. Well, I kinda just re-did the whole thing, but yeah. So here's the new version.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Zoey 101 charactersor songs mentioned in this.
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He'd told me about a billion times that these slippers didn't even fit me anymore.
I knew they didn't, and I knew I should've thrown them out back in senior year when I spilt hot chocolate all over them. Did stains stop me? No!
I could hear the tapping of the slippers agianst the ancient linoleum that coated the floors. The apartment was silent. Boston was silent. I could see him, my roommate, that is, sitting on the couch, and he was silent. Him reading his book and sipping his coffee, it was all silent, except for the tapping of my soiled slippers and the quick turn of his page.
The night was cold, it was just around Christmas, and slushy tan snow (if you could call it that) covered the streets. The thing about snow, is that it gets everywhere. Sorta like sand, only sand is in California, and snow is in Boston. I could see the little puddles reflecting the moonlight, that were over near my boots. It reminded me of a blind date that I had gone on earlier this evening. We hated each other.
When I reached the kitchen, I opened the third cabinet to the right. I saw many things, but my eyes scanned directly to the hot chocolate. I took a silver spoon from the drawer just next to the oven, and took three scoops of cocoa powder. This was all routine for me. Take a mug. Fill it with cocoa powder. Fill the kettle with water. Turn on the back burner. Wait for it to boil. I caught a glimpse of the coffee pot, and saw that the coffee had already been brewed. Typical.
When the shrill noise of the kettle finally reached my ears, it had been a good 5 minutes. Our apartment was old, no doubt, and I'd do whatever it took to get my roommate to stay in New England. He refused, and explained all the things he could do in California that he couldn't do here. I saw no difference, I thought writers could work anywhere. I never dared tell him, for his reaction might be one of anger, and I'd never want him to feel anger towards me.
If he couldn't love me, why should he hate me?
So I guess I've admitted it. That I love him, that is. But how can you not love him? There are all those quirks and stories and just the way he makes you feel, he just is someone I would fall for.
I continued my routine. Pour the water. Mix the powder. Add cream and chocolate chips.
I was the only one that used the cream in the house. He took his coffee black, he said he liked the bitter taste. I knew for a fact that wasn't the case. When he was with her, that is, his old lover, he drank his with cream and sugar and all that jazz. Most of his habits were given up since that brutal breakup, but writing and coffee, no, he could never do that. I like to think they are his addiction, just like he used to think that she, referring to his old lover, was also.
I also think, no, I know, that writing and a chance at being "discovered" as he liked to put it, wasn't the only reason he was going back to California. She was still there, and we knew from a breif e-mail from around 2 months ago, from another old friend, Lola. Lola told us that Zoey had a new boyfriend, and that she was happy, but not as happy when she was with him, referring to my roommate.
When Lola had shared this, he looked at me. He looked at me hard and said, "I know what your thinking. Don't think I don't know, Dana. I'm not going back for her, no matter how happy or unhappy she is. I'm happy here, and she's happy there."
I like to think that he's telling the truth, but inside, my brain, it's shouting at me. It's shouting, "Lies! Lies! Lies!"
He asked me if I wanted to go back to California, also, when he did. I refused. I explained that I had I good job here, and that I loved New England.
I wonder if his brain knew I was lying?
I was afraid to go back to California. He was there, having the time of his life, and this I knew, I sensed. You see, my roommate wasn't the only one that lost someone, I loved also, we loved, and we lost. They're both happy now, without us.
After I was finished with that routine, I placed the mug of coca down on the cofee table. He didn't even look up. I guess it bothered me a little, but what can I do? I'm Dana. I've never been anything but a friend to him, and he thought I was merely a friend to him, too.
He let out a sigh, one that someone might let out before informing you of the death of a loved one. I had a feeling he had something important, very, very, important to tell me.
"Well, I don't really know how to say this," he started.
"Chase, just spit it out," I mumbled back. I was staring at my stupid slippers, the one that did not fit a twenty-three year old woman. A twenty-three year old woman who had a silly school-girl crush on Chase Matthews, the awkward, boyish guy sitting next to me. I take that back. It wasn't a school girl crush. It was much bigger than that. But that doesn't mean it isn't silly.
Okay, so maybe the slippers did fit. Everyone knew I hadn't grown since the tenth grade.
"Um, after Christmas, I'm, well, leaving for California," He fitfully spat out, and didn't even look at me when he said it. He was staring at my slippers too, in attempt to avoid my disapointed and possibly deadly stare.
Chase knew well from living with me for so long.
"I thought you were going to wait untill the summer," I sighed. My voice was softer than I meant it to be. What I had it inteded that last remark to be was a snapy, Dana-branded comment, but it fell flat.
Like, paper flat. A kitten could do better than me.
"Zoey kinda broke up with her boyfriend, and Lola told her that I wanted to move back so..."
No.
Not her agian. Zoey Brookes. The one that broke Chase's heart, the perfect girl, the model citizen. The one who always remembers to pay the bills, and water the herb plants, and clean behind her ears, and piss me off.
Yeah, thats her. She never ever forgets. Never forgets how she hurt Chase and all those other guys with her perfect smile and hair (it was blonde agian, if you wanted to know) and nails and weight...
"Your going to leave me here to pay the rent by myself?" I said almost flatly, but it had a pinch, just a pinch, of disapointment, that just barley made that statement 3-D.
"Dana, you knew I was leaving..."
"Well, maybe I just don't want you to leave? Maybe I don't want you to get back together with Zoey and have a perfect family with your perfect girl. I thought that Zoey-fantasy was over a long time ago, Chase!" I was standing up, and he was firmly planted in his seat, still holding that fucking bitter coffee, that reminded me how bitter this all really was.
"You knew how much I loved her!" Chase was up out of his seat now, and he slammed the coffee on the table in front of him, making some of the black spill onto the wood, "You know better than anyone how it felt to have he break up with me like that! You know better than anyone, Dana!"
"Why, becuase Logan did the same to me? Becuase he left me without a note or a goodbye? Becuase he had you tell me that he just didn't "feel" anything anymore?" I was screaming and crying in being the hystericly dramatic person I always was inside. I didn't want him to leave.
I love him, I love him.
"Exactly Dana! Why aren't you happy that I'm getting a second chance to be happy? I'd be happy for you! I'd be so damn happy if you and Logan got back together! I thought we were friends, best friends! Why aren't you happy?"
I love him, I love him.
Those were the words that were dancing through my head, intoxicating me. I felt drunken off of the drama and the cold and the chocolate. I felt limp and numb, and I wasn't sure why I was yelling or screaming or standing anymore, becuase all I could think about is how I loved him.
"Wanna know why I'm not happy? Beucase you told me you were over her! You told me there was nothing left! That it was all gone!" My voice raised a pitch, and I was crying even more now.
"What does that have to do with anything? Why does it matter to you?"
I. Love. Him.
Chase Matthews, standing in front of me. I love him.
I almost laughed at the thought. Me loving him. Dana loving Chase. DanalovesChase.
My head was teasing me.
Dana and Chase, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
But that was the thing. That would never happen. My head was wrong. I loved him, and he loves Zoey.
And Zoey loves herself.
Ha.
Tell me that wasn't funny. Come on, why not a little humor in a dramatic heartbreaking situation? I know it made me laugh. So I was laughing. And a second ago I was crying. If Chase didn't think I was a headcase before, he knows now.
"Because I'm in love with you Chase," I admitted with a laugh. I need to sit down.
"W-what? You're WHAT?" Chase stuttered. Oh, Chase. You are so articulate.
"You know whats really funny about this?" I was still laughing, by the way, "That you were best friends with Zoey when you told her you loved her too. Oh, the irony! It kills me, really!"
He stared.
"Oh please, I don't even get a giggle for that?" Still laughing, I was.
Then he stared some more.
"Fine, I get it. Men don't giggle. How about a chuckle?" I added in. The laughter that I had died down, and now I was just feeling embaressed. Why did I do that agian? Oh yeah, because I felt the need to prove Chase wrong.
"Chase are you okay?" He hadn't moved since after his mindless babbling after my confession, and I was quite worried. I mean, I should be worried, I love him, after all. Was this a healthy reaction? I know he wasn't going to love me back or anything, but just standing there for so long? Should I call a doctor or something?
Then he moved. Well, more like he jumped. Or maybe even pounced. Either way, he sure as hell moved. He nearly knocked me down and to this day, I don't know how he actually managed to seal his mouth on mine so fast. There was some seriously good aim going on.
I wonder if he's good at darts?
Anyway, after we decided we should breathe, (because air builds character and all) I decided to ask about the other girl in his life, becuase I most definatly didn't want to be sloppy seconds.
"How about that Zoey Brookes you're so in love with?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, and a smile that hopefully lit up my face, becuase I didn't have on any bronzer or anything.
"Fuck Zoey," And those were the words I was dying to hear. I tipped my head back with laughter, while Chase kissed my neck...
And I don't think we want to get into details or anything, right?
Thats when I knew everything was going to be just fine.
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That was really bugging me. I just had to fix it. I'm not sure were all the saracsam come from at the end, seeing as that the beginning is kinda.. idk, unhappy? But whatever. REVIEW! (even if you have before, because this has obviously changed a bit) Tell me if there are any mistakes in this. I wrote this on like no food/sleep.