Hi! This is my first attempt at POTF fanfiction. I hope you all will not be disappointed. I can't tell you how long this will be. Generally, I know where I'm going with this but things change. What I do know is that this will be PHEELY! Please review. I love constructive criticism as well as flattery of any kind.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but this storyline. I think that sums it up.
I am not a musician. Well, not in the sense that I am some accomplished singer/song-writer/guitar playing kind of guy. I beat on my drums and I "rock out"(to use the term VERY loosely) on my Fender when I am feeling particularly angst-ridden. I use my Wizrd to silence my room so that I can pretend my name is Bob Dylan or Jim Croce whenever I'm feeling a bit blue. Which, come to think of it, has happened a lot recently. It's not my fault though. Not this time. I swear I'm not imagining things. She wants me. I can tell. Well, maybe she does. I'm not sure. However, I do know that we did cross that unspoken line somewhere between platonic and complicated almost a year ago. In fact, just this afternoon, we crossed over into an entirely new realm of relationship limbo: sheer terror and confusion. All of this because of one new development…
She Kissed Me.
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"You know what, you really are something Keels." Phil scoffed as he watched her eyes follow some cocky jock down the hallway. He had been telling her about a great new story idea for "Keely's Korner…OF INVESTIGATION" (a/n: sorry, just downloaded "Broadcast Blues last night) when she spotted the other boy across the crowded corridor of H.G. Wells.
"Huh?" she said, emerging from her fog. "Oh my gosh, Phil, I'm so sorry. That was rude. But, did you see his eyes? Oooh, they were just like two beautiful pools of…"
"Dirty mop water?" (a/n: another "BB" reference. Sorry if the joke is lost on a few.) Phil supplied, partially joking and partially out of irritation with the whole situation. How come she never looks at me like that? I'm better looking than he is, and smarter to be sure…Damnit, Diffy! Listen to yourself. Remember Alice DeLuca. You're such a hypocrite. "Kidding Keel. I'm sure he has exquisite eyes," he replied when he felt her eyes searing into him.
"Nice recovery, Diffy."
"Who is he anyway? I've never seen him around here before."
"I'm not sure. He's probably new. I make it a point to know who is who around here. Comes with the oh-so-powerful social territory I hold claim to." Keely preened like a peacock at her own exclamation of rank.
"Well, Miss Congeniality," Phil teased, "I don't like the look of him. It's like he knows he's hot stuff. Guys like that only want one thing, and I care too much about you to see your run idly into the arms of a dude like that."
Keely's mouth formed a small "O" as he spoke those words. Her breath got caught in her chest and her eyes twinkled. She moved ever so slightly towards him until there were mere inches between them. Phil bristled a bit, waiting for the inevitable squabble.
"That is the sweetest thing you've ever said to me," Keely whispered, her breath hot on his cheek as she embraced him. "I love that you want to protect me. Really. It means a lot."
"Uhhh…I-uh, well, yeah." Phil stammered, awkwardly looping his arms around her waist to return the hug.
"Gosh, sweet AND articulate. Wow, Phil, what more could a girl ask for?" Keely giggled and then, she pressed her lips lightly to his.
It was over before it even registered in Phil's brain to react. His eyes widened like saucers and his cheeks turned a deep crimson. He let go of her waist and backed away from her. She grinned.
"Gotta book," she said airily. "I'll call you later on, Ok?"
"Sure. Yeah. Ok. Later." Phil mumbled to no one in particular as Keely left him behind.
Damn. Keely, Keely, Keely. What are you doing to me?――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
When I got home, I collapsed on the couch. I know I looked like a fool. My hand stayed on my lips, trying to recreate that feathery touch from earlier. Like a man addicted to some mind-altering substance, I wanted more of those lips. I needed that high again. She is my drug of choice. Music, it seemed, was my only release from this tension at the moment. Well, it's not actually my ONLY way to release some of the tension, but definitely the most dignified. I ran to my room, silenced it, and picked out a song that I had come to identify with Keely---Now more than ever. My fingers deftly picked out the tune as I softly sang.
did you expect to kiss me one time
while looking at me with the same eyes ever again?
so come on and face it
so come on and face it
it's time that we say it
you can cross the line whenever you want to
I'm calling it love soon
close your mind and waste some time if you have to
I'm calling it love soon
it's not about you now
it's what we are
your mother complains that you need a man
you haven't mentioned me yet
and all of your friends don't know who I am
I've been your best kept secret
I understand I wasn't part of the plan
a dollar short, a minute early
but I am your man
so come on and face it
so come on and face it
it's time that we say it
you can cross the line whenever you want to
I'm calling it love soon
close your mind and waste some time if you have to
I'm calling it love soon
it's not about you now
it's what we are
let's bypass the bullshit and move on because
the minute hand moves faster than you think it does
and by no fault of yours and by no fault of mine
the bottom line is laying in the bed that we've been playing in tonight
you can cross the line whenever you want to
I'm calling it love soon
close your mind and waste some time if you have to
I'm calling it love soon
it's not about you now
it's what we are
As I strummed the last chord, my cell phone rang. The caller ID said "Keely Teslow". My heart screamed at me to pick it up. Hell, it practically leapt out of my chest and grabbed it for me. But, my brain told me to let it be. You need some time to think. Look at all the obstacles in your path. The journey home may be nearer than you expect. She may not feel the same way. It may have been a "friendly kiss." Things could get awkward. Let her leave a message. Be a man, Diffy. Men don't wait by the phone. The ringing finally stopped, followed shortly by the beep that signified a new voicemail.
I stared at the phone for a minute of two. My resolve was breaking. Screw this male-ego bullshit. Slowly, I reached for the phone.
And there you have it! Chapter one. The song in the story is "Love Soon" by John Mayer. I listened to it for inspiration. You should listen to it for the hell of it. It's quite awesome. Again, review please. Give me the confidence to keep on keeping on.
Ciao!