Phineas Flynn and Isabella Garcia-Shapiro were just friends. That's it. A kiss or two definitely did not make it certain that they were dating.
They were just friends who kissed; they kissed for the comfort, to ease the silence, or just for the feeling of being in a relationship. But let's make things clear - they were not dating. Just friends who kiss. That's not weird. / A series of Isabella and Phineas's kisses, from the first one to the last one. Mentions of drugs and underage drinking/alcohol.


1
get-together

The first time Phineas Flynn and Isabella Garcia-Shapiro had ever kissed, let alone even spoke to one another, was at Buford Van Stomm's house for what he called a "get-together."

From the looks of it, you wouldn't necessarily consider it a "get-together." With its abundance of Sex on the Beaches, bottles of whiskey, beers, and more alcoholic beverages, it was more of a party. Several rooms were shut tight, out coming moans that were supposed to be silent thus amplified themselves through the thin walls. What accompanied that was the broken, yet loud crunching noise of the stereo playing, "I'm Lindana and I Wanna Have Fun" on repeat, to which, after a few drinks, no one seemed to mind anymore.

Well, only two people seemed to mind.

People had always expected Phineas Flynn, "the man, the myth, the legend," to be the one that gets drunk or high spontaneously in the most elaborate way possible. He always made sure his inventions were up to parr, especially the ones that were made for other people. For Buford, he had made a special bottle that allowed the user to get very drunk with any liquid - water, orange juice, you name it - after one sip. Likewise, he had also made him a machine that spurt out joints incredulously whenever he wanted, so that he wouldn't have to bother with losing almost forty dollars to his dealer every week. Because of these life-changing devices for Buford, the constant recreation of these inventions had put Phineas and his brother, Ferb, at a high demand. With that came his customers inviting him to smoke and drink on special occasions to thank him for the convenient inventions. Nonetheless, he declined; he wasn't in for the drugs or the alcohol (or at least he thought). He was just in it for the inventing, because that's all he truly cared about, especially with the money that came with it...or it was at least what Ferb cared about.

All he did at the "get-together" was try to convince Ferb to pick him up immediately after his date with his girlfriend, Vanessa, but he wasn't answering.

On the other hand, no one expected Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, the new girl with a history of being a goody-two-shoes, to do whatsoever her peers were doing, and neither did Isabella expected herself to do so either. No one really knew her, after all. The only reason she was at this "get-together" was because Buford was her only friend from school due to the pair sitting next to each other in math. She had just moved to Danville from higher up north within the Tri-State area, and oh boy - was this area of Tri-State much different from where her family had grown up in. She didn't like the atmosphere she put herself in. Not one bit. And she didn't know how to get out of it.

All she did at the "get-together" was try to talk to Buford to even feel remotely comfortable, but he was throwing up on the grass outside with a shy boy named Baljeet patting his back.

They were unable to properly retrieve their respective goals. Isabella first sat at a lonely couch in the corner of the family room, watching as people enjoyed themselves in the smoke of the weed flowing in from the vents, alongside drinking shot after shot. Phineas was the latter to sit on the couch, specifically at the edge across from Isabella, still texting Ferb until he eventually got the text back, "We'll be there whenever we can. Get ready for inventing later."

All they did at the "get-together" was sit on the couch for a quiet fifteen minutes under the blasting beat of Lindana's song, unknowing of what they would end up to be to each other.

/

"Phineas! Isabella!"

Phineas and Isabella looked up, only to see the sight of a dizzy Buford with vomit dripping down his mouth. He took a swig from the bottle Phineas had invented for him, mixing the taste of quickened alcohol with his vomit, inducing a grimaced reaction from him. He burped loudly in front of their faces, much to their disgust.

"Why aren't you two partying?" Buford said as he swatted his scent away from his nose. The smell of vomit from him, and practically everyone else in the room, only heightened.

Isabella looked over at Phineas. She was unsure of what to. This was the very first time she had ever seen Buford like this, but it didn't seem as though this boy right next to her she had barely learned existed had little to no reaction on what this drunkard was doing. He was used to it; she wasn't at all. "I've never really tried alcohol, Buford-"

Buford started to chuckle loudly. "Bullshit! Today is going to be your first day trying alcohol, and you're gonna love it, Izzie! Buford likes that!" He took her by the hand. She tried to pull away, but he was just persistent on making his new friend become accustomed to what he had loved so dearly. He then stopped in his tracks, turned around, and motioned for Phineas to help him out, "Phineas! You gotta help me out with this, maybe then you can take in some more money!"

"What, why, Buford?" Phineas said, startled.

"You can make some more money if she likes it, and you can make a bunch of those bottles again! Business for you and Ferb!"

Phineas nodded and sighed. Ferb would be so happy to receive more money, and he wasn't one to disappoint his brother when it came to dealing with business. He was the brains behind dealing with customers and building the inventions, whereas Ferb was...well, the one who overlooks it, tells him how to do it, and collected much of the finance. Over the years, they had gotten $200. It expanded more and more with each customer that came to their service.

"Buf, I'm-" Isabella was interrupted by Buford.

"Izzie, it's alright! It'll be okay! I'm the perfect example, because I'm okay! See?" Buford smiled at Isabella. The scent of vomit and various mixtures of alcohol made up the hideous smell of his breath. Isabella grinned back, trying to empathize with his excitement.

"Here you go again with the peer pressure," Phineas scoffed as he made eye contact with this girl he had barely met. "Every sober friend he's ever had was peer pressured into this stuff." He made Isabella laugh - not nervously as he had expected, but in a way that exuded mirth.

"I'm giving you and Ferb business, Phineas!"

"I was gonna say that I am up to trying it," Isabella remarked, "But for now, I'm just gonna take a shot or two, okay? This guy doesn't have to do any 'business' for me."

Buford smirked. "Whatever you say."

/

Isabella Garcia-Shapiro did not expect herself, in the very least, to be taking one shot after the other. Phineas Flynn did not expect to be joining her in an attempt to compete against each other to see who can finish the most shots.

No one had expected to be cheering them on. Well, in retrospect, they had expected to be cheering Phineas on, but not Isabella, who had kept up a quiet and reserved person up until she began chugging down every shot that had been placed by Buford in front of her. Shot after shot, they both felt themselves succumb to the same nature as everyone else involved within the party. No one had necessarily been shocked; if only they were sober, then they would have been made this the biggest deal by now; nonetheless, because of the numerous drinks everyone had consumed and thrown up that night, no one would even remember this spectacular experience that was held at this "get-together".

Except for maybe Phineas and Isabella.

The music was blasting throughout the entire house, and people were too occupied in their drugs and drinks to even notice where the victor and the loser had gone.

Phineas was absolutely, positively, definitely, not upset by the fact that he had lost. He was certainly not crying in front of the bathroom door, waiting for Isabella to stop washing her face, as she had been for the past five minutes.

His mind, in which was usually filled with plans for upcoming inventions, the correct nuts and bolts to use in order to conceive a project, and the right wrench to use to screw in that faulty piece, was now filled with a flood of disappointment that was defined from losing. With every whimsical invention him and Ferb had made in the backyard the past several years on end to make up for the lost activities they had missed out on, he would be winning each and every time. This was only because he knew the mechanics of the inventions that acted as their fun. But this time around, he didn't exactly know that the mechanics of what four shots would do to what now used to be his victorious abilities.

He guessed that maybe he could take his drunken mind off of this by congratulating the girl who won against him.

Isabella was not used to the burning scent of alcohol lingering in her mouth. Every time she tried to wipe away at the burning taste on her tongue screwing around with her senses, she would end up staring at her red, puffed up eyes in the mirror. Isabella rubbed her eyes in the mirror, trying to soften the deadly appearance of the stinging redness that only gotten worse the more she tried to tackle it.

She did not know what she was going to tell her mother; her mother who had told her only to touch alcohol when serving it to customers at night on weekends in the restaurant they used to own - otherwise, if she had touched alcohol on another occasion, you'd bet she'd be getting a stern talk right now. Except she wasn't.

Isabella hadn't even planned herself to drink alcohol until she had been this retired billionaire - as her mother had told her. Her father died after having a few drinks or two, then swerving off the road into a parked car. If she had her mother see her in the same way her father last was, she would be clinging onto an edge begging for her to forgive her time after time. The best thing that Isabella could do in this moment was ask Buford to sleep over or call for a taxi to take her home.

Still, she knew that when she came home, her mother would see her red eyes and scream blasphemy right in her face as her little dog, Pinky, shook right below at her feet in an attempt to protect her.

She guessed that maybe she could take her worries off of this by talking to this new boy she had just met and won against.

Phineas stood at the door of the bathroom, his hand lingering over the knob. Normally, he would immediately take the opportunity to make friends with anyone he had met; all of his and Ferb's customers were friends to him and he often had surges of texts greeting him first thing in the morning when he woke up. Both he and Isabella were drunk - how likely would it be that they would talk to each other in the next few days, reminiscing over how they first became friends.

He knocked but heard no response. He settled his hand on the doorknob. As soon as he did so, the knob itself turned and Isabella came out with the most distraught look on her face. Yet, she was still attempting to plaster a triumphant look that told him, "I won, you lost!" There was still a grim look to her face, and Phineas couldn't help but notice. His first words to her were going to be a display of concern for Isabella, a stringent of harmonies that only voiced worry for her because of how she was expressing herself, it was-

"Did those shots screw you over, too?"

And yet, his alcoholic thoughts took over him.

Isabella began to laugh and rub her palm on her temple. The alcohol truly screwed her over, and she didn't know exactly how where her mind and body would lead her next. Those 151 Ways to Die shots essentially really did give her 151 ways to die, and if she could die right now in front of this boy before her mother sees she broke one of the few rules she vowed to stay under, then she would definitely not mind at all. "Mhm, you?"

Phineas nodded. "Yeah, why do you look stressed out?"

"Phin..." Isabella mumbled off as she began to stare around at the space around them. She had just realized she didn't exactly get a clear understanding of what his name was earlier before she and him had downed too many shots to count. "Phineas, right?"

"What?" He yelled over the music, before she pulled him aside farther down the hall, where the music was practically muted and the voices were almost inaudible.

"Your name's Phineas, right?"

"Wow," Phineas gaped at her in awe sarcastically, "You're a genius, Isabella!" He emphasized her name in order to let her know that at least he knew her name. The everyday sober Phineas was never like this, and his drunken self had to make sure that his sarcasm he used to have as a child - even if bad - was still intact.

Isabella, still dazed from all the shots, shook her head and tried to comprehend what utter nonsense he was spelling out for her. "Is it?"

Phineas pout his bottom lip to Isabella and crossed his arms. "I don't know, is it? You should know me from French class."

Isabella squinted her eyes at him, to which he oddly squinted back in order to be playful. "Funny. I actually still don't know anyone from that class because I sit in the front," She said, acting annoyed - but in all honesty, she was enjoying this little banter with this boy she had barely met. "I'm drunk. Mamá's gonna kill me."

"Bet she won't notice."

"Have you seen my eyes?"

"Yeah, puffy and red. A lot like mine." Despite the fact that she did look a bit bad with her swollen eye bags and red vessels settling in her eyes, he took note of how pretty she was. He had always seen the back of her black hair in French class, only getting a few glimpses of her face here and there. But seeing her here was probably the most breathtaking thing he'd ever seen since the day he made his first invention.

Isabella smiled. "I heard you crying outside. That explains a lot-"

Phineas's eyes widened and his face began to turn red. "That wasn't me," He interrupted so to save himself from the humiliation Isabella was about to serve him.

"Sure, loser." Isabella watched as Phineas's face faltered from an attempt to be sarcastic to embarrassment. She tugged at her eyes again, but pulled away once she realized that they would worsen the look on her face that was mixed with guilt. She needed to get rid of it quickly and what could possibly be her last resort was just right in front of her. "You're the kid that invented that thing everyone's using in here right? Everything says, 'Phineas and Ferb' on it...well, if Phineas even is your name."

"Which thing? The joints that're stinking up the place, or that bottle that keeps getting everyone drunk?"

"Jesus..." Isabella muttered, her teeth ebbing away at her bottom lip, "You made both of those things?"

Phineas shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "With my brother, Ferb."

"Impressive," Isabella whispered to herself. "So you are Phineas." Phineas nodded. "By any chance, do you have something that can rid of how drunk I am? Or that can probably get rid of how stupid my eyes look right now?"

"We've been getting that request a lot," He remarked as he leaned against the wall cooly, "The bottles keep breaking so we've been focused on making those unbreakable for now. If we put that off for a bit, we'd be getting some angry customers that'd see the trouble off of needing to get drunk off of actual drinks."

"Okay, well, what do you have right now? My mom can't see me like this."

Phineas whimpered. He put his hand in his pocket to feel around for the one thing that he did have. It was much different from the most recent developments of his recent projects - well, his and Ferb's recent projects. This one, however, was created by him and only him. Ferb had no involvement in it; all that he wanted to do was make whatsoever can give them money. Ferb was in it for the money, but Phineas was in it for the pleasure of inventing.

That's all he cared about. Ever since their dad lost his job as a real estate agent, he resort to having an antique shop that wasn't successful, but it was one of the only ways to get a buck or two a week. Sure, they could ask their older sister Candace for a few dollars here and there, but she needed to pay off much of her college funds. When Ferb realized he could use the activity of inventing as an outlet to get even more money for the family, he quickly took over and switched the roles they used to have - Ferb was the man of action, whereas Phineas was the man of ideas. This time around, Ferb was the man of ideas, and Phineas was the man of action.

Ferb observed everyone's actions at Danville High one day, taking note that practically everyone was heavy on getting high and drinking; ever since then, he's been creating those bottles and joints to get money for the family.

Phineas wasn't upset that they were only doing this for money - their family truly needed the money. But, if he could turn back time and have it back when he and Ferb only made inventions for fun, he absolutely could. He's tried, nonetheless, but the concept just wasn't perfectly exact.

He pulled out the object in his pocket. It was a white pen; it looked like any average pen. He smirked at Isabella, enticing a skeptical reaction from her. "Do you mind if I see if I can draw new eyes for you?"

Isabella's eyes widened. "Sorry, what the hell? Are you that drun-"

"Okay, so I made this pen that can make whatever you draw in the air become real. I've usually just drawn bouncy balls with this thing, but let me see what I can do for you. I'll just make some eyeballs, probably make you sleep then take out your original eyes, 'n pop the new ones in." Phineas was just about ready to burst into laughter when he saw that Isabella began to momentarily freak out.

"No, no, what the hell? You're gonna make me new eyeballs? Are you a maniac?"

Phineas couldn't help himself; he immediately choked on his laughter in front of poor Isabella who had only grown into her bubble of confusion. "I'm kidding," He clarified. Isabella's expression began to soften and her drunken self slowly got ahold of what the joke was about. "I can't do that, but I can make you something that can take your mind off of this."

"I doubt you can do that," Isabella retorted. She knew that for sure she would be unable to take the concern away about what the future would hold for her and her mother shortly thereafter she saw how stupidly drunk she was.

Phineas clicked a button on his pen. Out came a glowing white light trailing from the tip of it that followed wheresoever it went. He shrugged at Isabella. "I'm right about being able to make whatever I draw become real with this pen, though."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I think you are."

He switched a gear on his pen that allowed him to draw with black ink, later shaking it in order to ensure that no ink would actually stain anything. He started to draw a small glass the size of his hand, watching in the background as Isabella stared at it, fascinated and hellbent on this thing that wouldn't necessarily see everyday. He quickly, without looking, switched the color to blue, marking the inside of the glass with a cool tone that mimicked the look of water - in which is exactly what he was looking for.

Phineas lent the pen over to Isabella's palm. She became hesitant to grab it, but was eyeing it with such intensity that at this point she could have memorized each and every function within this little gadget. "Would you mind doing the honors?"

"I..." Isabella said, once again rubbing at her temple as though to make clear that she wasn't hallucinating. Those shots had made her feel as if everything was unreal, as if those drinks had intoxicated her just a bit too much. "I'm really drunk, aren't I?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Push it," He said, taking her hand and resting her finger right where it activated the final product of what came out of the project. It was a small hidden button laid discreetly on the side of the pen, acting as a grip that sat at the body. He took ahold of her arm and rested her palm underneath the drawing of the glass. "Get ready to catch it."

"What?" Isabella questioned. She felt Phineas's thumb rub over her own and suddenly push the button. The glass of water fell right into her hand; it wobbled until it somewhat quickly settled into her fingers right as Isabella came to realize that this was the most surreal experience of her life.

She had heard of the infamous Phineas Flynn from her French class who stood alongside his brother, Ferb Fletcher to make each and every single, what she called, "weed-makers" and "bottle screw-ups". That was all they were connected to now; they used to be connected to their endless active inventions that always lead to some sort of amusement park type of fun in their backyard - but that was when they were middle schoolers and not high schoolers with other teenagers who were obsessed with feeling grown up. She had never expected him to make an invention like this. Isabella always expected for him to probably be stuck forever on making those things, not knowing how to make anything else.

But nonetheless, he was proving her wrong.

Phineas helped balance the glass of water in Isabella's hand, spilling a few drops of water here and there as she stood there, slightly shocked but her fingers gripped tightly around it. "I got you some water," He remarked cheekily. "Sorry you had to catch it. I can't draw things really close to the ground because I programmed this to only be used for bouncy balls at first."

Isabella soon rolled her eyes, a hint of mirth residing in it. "You could've gotten some from the kitchen, Phineas."

"But that would ruin the fun of this invention. Drink it, water helps."

"How can I be sure this is water?"

"Don't worry. If not, I can get you water from the kitchen, then," He turned on his heel to walk to the kitchen, but felt a grip on his arm. He saw Isabella chugging down the glass of water behind him, immediately finishing it within seconds. She loosened her grip on him and handed the glass over to him.

She nodded, giggling. "I'm sure."

Phineas smiled. "I told you," He said. Her eyes still remained red and her eyes were still as puffy as ever in the light he saw her in. He slowly began to realize that, as by how intense her drunken face looked, she could definitely need some help with not only getting a ride home, but maybe explaining a few things or two to her mother. "You know, I can get you home tonight."

Isabella's eyes widened. "Phineas, you're drunk. You can't drive."

"My brother and his girlfriend's picking me up soon," Phineas said, shrugging off her concern, "I don't think they'd mind giving you a ride home."

"It's okay," Isabella said, realizing that she probably needed to rub at her drunk eyes a bit more to stop Phineas from observing how messed up it possibly looked. "I'll ask Buford if I can stay here for the night."

He raised an eyebrow. "It's a bit late to tell her you're staying over. Wouldn't your mom be worried?"

Isabella shrugged, then nodded. "Is it okay if they can take me me home?"

"Yeah, I'll get you a few drinks from the kitchen before they pick us up, so you won't look too terrible."

"Can we use that pen instead for getting water?"

Phineas's face lit up - someone had actually, in the longest time, liked an invention that wasn't related to drugs or drinking. "You liked it?" And it was his invention. It wasn't an invention that was made by him and Ferb solely for the money, it was a little invention that exemplified the personification of who Phineas could've been if things remained the same way it did when he was in middle school with Ferb.

"It's the coolest thing I've seen in my life," She said, gleaming at the pen that was in his hand. "Also, your water seems cleaner than whatever Buford has."

"It definitely is cleaner than Buford's water," Phineas laughed as he activated the pen yet once again. He drew two glasses in the air in front of them, both somewhat at the same size. He started to toggle through several colors installed into the device. "Ferb told me that he gets rid of his hangovers by drinking coconut water. I'm assuming it works for getting rid of how much alcohol there is in our bodies right now, too."

Isabella breathed in air through her teeth, as though to tell him immediately that this wasn't the best decision for her. "I'm allergic to coconuts." She watched as Phineas's eyes widen. There was a quick feeling of heavy breath that blew on her face from Phineas who looked as though he was about to panic as he scrolled through various colors until resting on orange.

A bright orange glimmer flew from the tip of the pen. "I heard orange juice works, too."

"I'm okay with that."

Phineas filled in his cup practically to the brim with the color orange. From the looks of it, it looked as though it would possibly spill as soon as it would fall into Phineas's palm. He brought his hand over to Isabella's cup, but paused upon seeing Isabella's eyes glisten just from looking at the pen work its wondrous magic right in front of her.

"Hey," He said. He held out his hand in front of Isabella to give her the pen. "You can have a gander at it. Fill up your cup, Isabella."

She pushed it away, hesitant to hold it. It was Phineas's invention after all; she wanted no part in ruining what beauty she was capturing in her drunken mind as of now. "I don't wanna screw it up."

"Nah, you can try it out."

Isabella, practically breathlessly, carefully picked up the pen from Phineas's out held hand. With a shaky hand, she began to toggle back and forth between the colors, not even noticing that it had been orange before. Nonetheless, she had forgotten what color she was supposed to use; she was too fascinated with how Phineas had practically made magic real right in front of her.

"Swipe left for orange," Phineas laughed as Isabella looked up at him, embarrassed, but returned back to fumbling around with the device. Seeing someone actually worked up about something other than every other machine or bottle he had made for essentially everyone at Danville High was something new. He wasn't feeling pride from earning hundreds of dollars with Ferb, but he was feeling the same way he felt every day of his middle school summers - something that he hadn't felt in the longest time.

It felt a bit as though butterflies were fluttering around in his stomach.

Isabella found the color. She took the glimmering pen and attempted to be steady with the markings, but found herself to go the slightest bit out of the lines. She filled it up to what looked like one-third of the cup. Yet, she still looked satisfied with her work.

She lent it over to Phineas, who automatically leaned in forward to her cup with the pen gripped in his hand. "You need more than that, Isabella." He drew a small line at the top before looking up at Isabella for permission to continue to do so. She nodded, not bothering to fight back; she knew how many shots she took and she knew she definitely, no doubt, needed to get rid of it immediately.

Phineas put his palm under the cup. He gestured for Isabella to do so, and thus she put her hand close to it to catch it before numerous drops of orange juice were to manage to spill out. He pushed a button on the cup, and next thing they knew, the glasses became real with its shiny reflections and trickling drops that dripped all over Phineas's hand. He shrugged before looking at Isabella who was smirking at him for his mess of a cup - which of half was already on the floor - whereas hers was clean with no spills due to her oh-so brilliant tactic.

"Are you gonna clean up?" Isabella asked. She was trying her best not to laugh in order to save all humiliation aside for him after all that happened beforehand.

"This place is already a mess already," Phineas said before he purposefully spilled a bit more to make his point. Nonetheless, it hadn't proved his point - the floor was sticky and so were his shoes. He groaned, unable to comprehend what exactly he had tried to even do.

Isabella chugged half of her juice down before sighing at the mess he created. "Are you gonna clean up?" She repeated, but this time referred to his sneakers.

Phineas tried to pick up his foot. He soon found that it was quite sticky, and remembered Ferb had hated anything dirty, let alone sticky, get into his car. "Oh, crap," He mumbled under his breath, stepping out of the puddle he created and taking off his shoes as his back leaned against the wall. He watched as how much gunk had gotten onto the shoes dripped slowly onto the floor, staining it more than he had been before. He put his cup on a small drawer right next to him and as did Isabella. "I'm heading to the bathroom. I really gotta clean this up."

"I'll help you out," Isabella offered as she followed Phineas down the long hall into the bathroom, "The faucet's sort of hard to figure out."

Before entering the bathroom, Phineas had taken the precaution to knock on the door. Last time he tried to enter a bathroom at the party, he had turned the knob too early and saw a couple, naked, trying to scramble out as quickly as they possibly could to avoid getting caught. In all of the places in the house, they had chosen the most public of all. From that day forward, Phineas had learned his lesson to always knock before entering at parties. He listened for a response as he held his ear to the door. No response, so he slowly opened the door to peek in - much to his content, there was no one there doing anything and he was able to have the liberty of cleaning his shoes.

Phineas sighed in relief. "Oh, thank God. No one's having sex in here."

Isabella's eyes widened. "Phineas, what?"

"No worries. I'm cleaning this," He said, holding up his sticky shoes to a momentarily confused Isabella.

He walked over to the sink and looked over at the knobs that handled the water. He tried to pull up one of the knobs, but found no true solution to getting water out of the faucet. Isabella stared over his shoulder, smirking at how much work Phineas was putting just to clean up his shoes. He groaned in frustration after no luck, turning to Isabella who had the look of, "I told you that you need help." He smacked his lips and lent the shoes over to Isabella, who took it without hesitation unlike she did with the pen.

She pulled up the knob, turned it, then pushed it down before pulling it back a bit to justify how much water she needed to clean the shoe. Isabella took a towel that hung off a rack right next to her and soaked it under the water as she lathered a bar of soap onto it. She quickly scrubbed away at the stickiness laid on Phineas's shoes, then presenting a practically new and cleansed pair of sneakers that dripped wet inside and out the shoe. With a dry part of the towel, she wiped away at the water that still clung to sneaker.

He took the sneakers back and smiled at Isabella. "Thanks," He said as he wiped off a few drops that were still on the shoe, "I never knew sinks could be that complicated."

"I'm surprised you can make that cool pen but not figure out how a faucet worked without my help."

Phineas shrugged. He began to walk over to the bathtub and placed his shoes inside the tub to dry the inside soles off. He sat down and looked up to Isabella who was drying her hands off of another towel. "Different mechanics, new widgets...who knows?"

"Not you," Isabella laughed. She sat down next to Phineas at the edge of the bathtub.

"I could know if I'd tried hard enough," He remarked, trying to show off. All he earned was even more laughter from the girl that sat close to him. It was too close for his comfort, but he was comfortable with Isabella - someone he'd just met. If it had been any other person, he would've scooted farther right away, but this had brought opulence to his mind. He hadn't felt this much at ease in so long.

After all the inventions and so on, he had grown tense after days and days of having to invent for other people's pleasures. Instead of doing homework, he spent his nights online trying to order the right parts for the inventions. Anger and anxiety had only grown inside of his chest every time he and Ferb were told over the phone that a certain part couldn't arrive on time. Every time a teacher would ask for his homework, he would heave a heavy sigh and repeat the same thing over and over, "I didn't do it." Why? "I forgot." You always forget. "I know. I'm sorry. I'll do it when I can."

Isabella leaned her head onto Phineas shoulder. He jerked a bit, but she still calmly kept her head on his shoulder. If Mamá had caught her doing anything that she was doing right now, she'd most likely be dead; Isabella was much too at peace to even consider that idea at hand.

The last time Isabella had gotten drunk was tonight. But the last time she had remotely done anything intimate with a boy was about a year ago. She had to invite a boy she once liked for a quick second with a loud mouth with poor impulse control to her house to do a biology project. He was unseemingly quiet and calm the entire way through the production of the project up until they had dinner with Isabella's tired mother who had had enough for the entire day; she exuded annoyance and almost anger at the dinner table - but of course, she couldn't exactly exude so much with a guest.

Isabella's fingers were at the tip of her chair, and this boy, without thinking, glazed over her fingers and held it. She squeezed his hand as gently as she could to know she appreciated the feeling. Next thing she knew, he was screaming at the top of his lungs with enjoyment, "Is it cool if I hold your hand for longer?" At this point, Isabella's mother stood up, leaned over to check if they were. They were holding hands. Despite how much Isabella had tried to get her hand away from his to avoid the further consequences of her mother, he, because of the excitement riling up in him, couldn't seem to let go.

Long story short, Isabella had to do the rest of the project over several video chats with the boy who constantly screamed, "I'm sorry about that dinner," in her earbuds every five minutes or so.

Isabella giggled at Phineas's previous comment. "You didn't try hard enough," She said, "You just pulled it up and gave up."

"Well, in my defense, I had some sticky shoes I needed to clean in my other hand."

"I cleaned them for you."

Phineas laughed as he rested his head upon Isabella's. "That's fair enough."

Isabella caressed over her own hands, beginning to ponder about what would even happen the next day at school. She began to worry; would she gain the reputation of being that "shot girl", and it would spread all over to the point where her mother hears about it? Or would everyone forget in a split -

Scratch that. Everyone would forget. They're blackout drunk.

She loosened the tension in her body and snuggled herself into Phineas's neck. "How's Danville High like?" She muttered into Phineas's ear.

"Isabella," He said, a bit taken back by how drunk she had seemed to be to him, "We both go there."

"Right, right. You've been there longer than me, though. I've only been here for like, three months-ish. I still don't know a lot. How's it like, overall?"

Phineas put a finger to his chin. In his freshman and sophomore years of high school, what he had seen with Ferb in Danville High was that everyone was a drug user or a hardcore alcoholic from the minute they step foot into the school. Not a lot of fights went on, but the only fights that went on were between Principal Monogram and the students as to whether or not they had hidden their weed in innocent kid's backpack for the third time this month. But aside from that, everyone seemed to maintain a pretty lax attitude and somewhat decent grades as compared to Phineas's due to his constant inventing.

Phineas straightened up a bit, not so much to bother Isabella, and coughed into his hand. "As you can see," Phineas, in almost what was an announcer voice, gestured to the sounds of Danville High students yelling along to Lindana's hit outside the bathroom, "Everyone gets very, very drunk." His voice squeaked then immediately broke back into his normal voice. He felt Isabella chuckle. "Also, sometimes, high. The vents are evidence to that. Everyone's really nice, but don't get on anyone's bad side or they'll hide an ungodly amount of weed in your bag a bunch."

Isabella looked up at him. "Which idiot pissed someone off that badly?" She asked.

"Some new kid snitched on one of Buford's friends for drinking in the bathroom with one of mine and Ferb's inventions last year."

"Ah, crap," Isabella cussed as she took her head off of Phineas's shoulder. He looked at her, a bit concerned. "Speaking of being new, I'm sort of scared that everyone won't like me like that kid."

"Oh, you're nothing like that kid," Phineas remarked as he took his turn to put his head on Isabella's shoulder. He felt her shoulder go from up to down, as a supposed way to say that some sort of tension was released from her once he laid his head there.

Isabella chortled, as though to say, "What the hell are you thinking?" She muttered under her breath, "You think?"

Phineas's eyes closed. He felt calm just laying his head at her shoulder. "You're cooler."

"Sure?"

"Positive."

"You only met me a few minutes ago."

"It doesn't have to be forever to know someone's a great person, Isabella."

"You'll change your mind in a few weeks. Maybe minutes."

"No, I won't."

"We probably won't even talk at school. We'll just forget this."

"I don't think I will."

"I might."

"I doubt it."

"How would you know?"

"You were too fascinated with that pen. I'd doubt you'd be able to forget that."

"You might be right."

"You're too cool, Isabella. It'd be cool, too, if you didn't forget tonight."

"I'll mark it on my calendar. October 6th, the night I met Phineas, the love of my life."

"Oh, the love of your life, now? You went from saying you'd forget all of this to 'the love of my life'?"

"You never know."

"That's cute."

"Cool, too?"

"In between."

"Why didn't you think you'd forget tonight?"

"Hm, I don't know. You're probably the first person to genuinely appreciate my inventions since middle school."

"What about all those people out there?"

"They're only appreciative of what I sell them. The pen is unsellable. It's also one of the first few things I made without Ferb. He's the best, but sometimes, I just need a break from all the inventions we make for other people's benefit."

"At least you're getting money."

"I know, but I don't really care that much about those inventions. I wanna make people happy with my inventions, but not in the way I do with all the drugs and alcohol. Besides, seeing you light up like a Christmas tree after seeing that pen was enough for probably the rest of my life."

"Why was that?"

"I just haven't felt that much excitement from seeing someone get fascinated over an invention I made by myself in the longest time. It'd be awesome to feel the same way I did every day in my life, but tonight was probably enough for me. I think that's why I wouldn't forget tonight."

"Are you sure? We're both really drunk."

"Not too drunk. Everyone's blacking out and forgetting stuff right and left. Us? We're good. I know we're good. You won't forget."

"Even if you have to drill in this memory of us talking every time you see me in the hallways to make me remember?"

"Exactly my point. But you won't forget."

"I don't see how you can be so sure on that."

"I just am." Phineas lifted his head up from Isabella's shoulder.

"We'll see about that-"

"There's something on your face," Phineas interrupted, his eyes staring at Isabella's lips. He looked over at her cheek and began to rub it with his thumb, mimicking the motion of taking whatsoever was on her face off. He took his other hand and cupped her cheeks.

She giggled and muttered close to his face, "Phineas, whatcha doin'?" She felt herself lean into a soft pair of lips that tasted heavily of sweet alcohol and felt cold because of the orange juice he had drunk earlier. His lips were gentle and careful with hers, and...

He parted lips with her and whispered, "I think it was me."

Isabella giggled. She wiped away at the slight of saliva on her lips and mumbled as she rubbed her mouth, "No, really, what was on my face?"

"It was just me," Phineas said as he took Isabella's face into his hands once again; his eyes fluttered dreamily and he leaned in to kiss her once again. But she pushed away from his face slowly before he could touch lips with her, her giggling becoming slow breaths of confusion - heavy and shaky...

"...Isabella, it was me kissing you, it was a little joke, are you okay? I'm sorry if you didn't like that, I'll stop, I'm dru-"

"No," Isabella said, her hands quickly landing on Phineas's face, "I liked that."

"Isabella, if you didn't-," Phineas was cut off by the blasting sound of his phone ringing. He saw Isabella take her hands away from his face and put them in her lap. He groaned in frustration and took out his phone, only to see that his brother had finally bothered to call him after numerous attempts to reach out before being hit with an ambiguous text moments later. He put the phone to his ear, and whispered almost breathlessly into it, "Now's not the right time, Ferb-"

"Well, goddamn," Ferb's girlfriend said into the phone to substitute for her boyfriend's quiet streak, "You said you wanted to be picked up and now you're saying it's not a good time? What do you want?"

Phineas had to hold himself back from blowing up. "We do need to get picked up, Vanessa," He said through gritted teeth.

"We?"

"Me and..." He trailed off, realizing that Ferb didn't know Isabella at all, "My friend needs to get dropped off tonight."

"Is it Baljeet?"

"No, it's Isabella. She's new around here. She'll tell you where to go."

"You could've told me earlier, Phineas. Ferb and I were planning to have se-"

"Okay, we'll come out right now, Vanessa," Phineas sighed, putting his elbow on his knee and his hand to his forehead. He was irritated; why couldn't he have let that moment happen earlier? Why couldn't he have let Isabella kiss him once more instead of insisting that his drunken actions were making him do so?

Let alone, why did it feel so good?

He heard Ferb and Vanessa laugh from the other side of the phone. "Hurry up!" He had heard his brother's voice faintly say in the background. He then heard a quick honk that was both heard from the phone and outside of the house despite the blaring music radiating from the stereo. The phone beeped to signal that the call had ended.

Phineas turned to Isabella, who was blushing red as could be. "Isabella," He said as he took her chin and turned her face to look at him. Still, even facing him, she wouldn't look directly into his eyes, but he knew he couldn't exactly do that in this vulnerable time and moment. "I'm sorry about what happened. I was just too much in the moment."

Isabella perked up, causing her to look directly at him, just as he had wanted a second ago. "I enjoyed it," She remarked. She said it with almost somberness, as though to dictate that she was upset at having to leave right in this very moment. "Let's go head out." She picked herself up from sitting down and began to walk towards the door until she felt Phineas's hand lightly brush against her arm.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"I..." Isabella trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"If that's okay with you."

"Let's just head out, okay?"

They both sighed, knowing they wanted more than what they had just given to each other. They both sighed because it was highly possible they would forget about the remnants of tonight, from the excitement on Isabella's face upon seeing the pen to that unplanned kiss.

It was highly possible, not that it was going to necessarily happen at all.


chapter two will come out soon! sorry for the sucky ending, i just really wanted to get this done bc i'm hyped for the other chapters! the original version of this chapter was really short, it being only 1.9k words, whereas i somehow went above and beyond with this :0 i'm beginning to wonder how i'll even get through the next few chapters that are supposed to be 10k lmaooo

shoutout to xflyhigher for keeping me sane when writing this chapter :/ u suck