Title: Stories that Never Were
Rating: T
Pairing: Ethan/Silver
Warning/Spoilers: AU − Alternate Universe story!
Author's note: The writers just had to surprise attack us with that beautiful and tragical Ethan/Silver confession-kiss and I'm left sitting there like whoa. I like. And now they're taking him away from us? Ugh, so close yet so far away.
Stories that Never Were
Third Grade
It's the first time they meet.
Nine-year-old Ethan Ward walks into Miss Amy's third grade class with the confidence of a child much older than he. Even at a young age, he's adorable and tan, with a wide winning smile that has all the other kids in class staring. He fiddles with the straps of his Superman backpack and is immediately overwhelmed by the chaos that is an elementary classroom.
The children are arranged alphabetically and Ethan's toward the back, away from a young Miss Naomi Clark, a pretty little girl with a mane of wild, blonde curls that reminds Ethan of the lion he saw at the zoo once. She throws him these looks and giggles and she's one of the prime girls his mother tries to get him to dance with when they cross paths at a party.
They're supposed to be drawing something. Ethan isn't too sure on what they're supposed to be drawing because he's distracted. Being nine, his attention span isn't very long and he isn't very good at multitasking. He finds the commotion at the desk in front of him much more interesting.
Miss Amy's using her sweet voice though it's obvious by the strained look on her face that her patience is wearing thin. The tiny girl in the seat ahead of him is talking too loud and too quick for Ethan to make sense of it. Her hair falls across her face like a curtain of darkness and her eyes are a shade of blue brighter than every marble in his collection.
"Silver!" the little girl shouts, throwing her hands in the air, evidently upset. "Just Silver!"
"Okay, sweetie," Miss Amy says soothingly.
"This says Erin Silver!" the girl argues and lividly points to the name tag that's taped to the surface of her desk. She seems genuinely upset and Ethan finds it silly, getting so worked up over something so trivial.
"We'll get you a new one, Er−" Miss Amy who seems too young and too kind to command a room, tries to give her student an affectionate squeeze to the arm though the nine-year-old gasps dramatically and moves away. "Err, Silver. You just color and I'll get you a new one."
The young girl seems satisfied and Miss Amy quickly stands, crossing the room to where her messy desk is located. She huffs, desperately trying to drop her sudden, flustered state and clasps her hands, addressing the class after a deep, cleansing breath.
"Okay, kids, how are we all doing?" Miss Amy asks, glancing at a few desks as she passes by, smiling encouragingly at the youngsters. "Remember, we're drawing a picture of one thing we want to accomplish this year whether it has something to do with school or maybe if you play a sport…"
Watching the girl in front of him quickly go to back her drawing as if she didn't almost make their teacher cry, Ethan knows what he's going to draw. He picks up his pencil and goes to work, eyes concentrated on his white paper, teeth biting lightly the tip of his tongue. He glances at Silver once again and catches her eyes again, immediately entranced. The girl quickly looks away and Ethan breathes a woeful sigh.
Once satisfied with his drawing, Ethan then reaches for his box of markers. The box reminds him of his parents. Ethan doesn't know why they spend hours in the kitchen yelling and screaming, but he was right in the next room with his brother and he heard every word.
"I distinctively remember telling you to buy crayons! Ethan's nine! I don't need my son coming home with marker smudges and marks all over his clothes and hands!"
"They're just markers damn it!"
Ethan shakes away the thought when he hears Miss Amy churning out some monologue about the importance of public speaking. He's nine, not stupid. He knows what her little speech is leading to and suddenly Ethan feels as if all the oxygen in the room has suddenly disappears and he's frozen there, slowly dying.
"Okay class," Miss Amy says loudly, drawing their attention. "Who would like to share first?"
Ethan twists and turns, nervously fidgeting in his seat as kids go up one by one. His fingers tap anxiously against the surface of the desk, not paying much attention to what his classmates are saying. He vaguely recalls Naomi and her drawing of a young girl with curly hair, wearing a tiara and sash that had 'prom queen' scribbled on it. Miss Amy tries to interject though Naomi simply wouldn't hear it.
One boy wants to go surfing and stand up on a wave and another aspires to be President of the United States. When it comes to Silver, she simply stands at the front and dramatically unfolded her paper, showing off no drawing, but 'hi my name is SILVER' written in large block letters. She throws Miss Amy a knowing look before sitting down. No explanation necessary.
Then it's Ethan's turn.
He struts to the front of the class with sneakers squeaking noisily against the newly waxed floor. His fingers are slowly shaking and he looks absolutely petrified. The room is completely silent, waiting for him to speak. He runs his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit, before flipping his page and showing the picture to the class. Naomi looks confused. Silver straightens her slouched form, enthralled.
Ethan's no artist, but he can draw a descent stick figure, two actually. One's a girl and the other's a boy. The boy wears a big smile with swirls around his head, supposedly curls of chocolate tresses. The girl has straight, dark hair and striking blue eyes. Silver's aware that all the kids in Miss Amy's third grade class are looking her way, but all she sees is a nervous little boy and she waits for him to speak.
"I, um, saw this girl today," Ethan speaks in a quiet voice, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back. His eyes lift from his shoes and he looks at Silver, just Silver. "And I want to be her friend."
He can feel the perspiration on his palms and wishes someone will say something, anything. The silence is deafening.
"How sweet, Mr. Ward," Miss Amy coos and claps her hands. Ethan's sure his face is as red as a tomato when he hears some of the boys laughing and a lot of the girls looking between him and Silver, bewildered. He shuffles back to his desk with his head hanging low.
"My eyes aren't blue," the girl, Silver, speaks as Ethan's doing the walk of humiliation and embarrassment down the aisle, back to his seat behind her. Ethan pauses for a moment, his big brown eyes meeting hers, reminding Ethan of a pool of water on a hot summer day.
"Really?" he speaks nervously after a long pause. His fingers fly through his unruly chocolate curls, lips twitching in confusion. "They look blue to me."
"Cerulean," Silver corrects matter-of-factly. Ethan takes his seat and though another student goes up to present, Silver turns back to him and whispers, "It's in the twenty-four pack."
Ethan can only seem to nod. "I'll get it right next time."
"Promise?" Silver quickly challenges, the slightest trace of a smile on her face.
"Promise," Ethan agrees and Silver slouches in her seat, turning her attention to the front of the class. He feels a strange fluttering deep within and has to blink a few times to be certain that that actually happened, that this girl who's difficult and unpredictable and beautiful is real.
The next day Ethan convinces his mom to buy him crayons − the twenty-four pack − and checks three times, making sure cerulean is included.
...
Sixth grade
Silver rolls her eyes for what feels like the millionth time in the last few minutes. Naomi Clark is her best friend, but it's honestly unbearable to be around the girl when she's wearing that stupid expression on her face. Silver's happy her friend is happy, but really, her happiness means at least another hour of listening to Naomi go on and on about Ethan Ward.
Silver doesn't really blame her either. It feels like every girl in their class swoons each time Ethan walks by, flexing imaginary muscles with his lacrosse stick in hand. He's good-looking, maybe the best looking boy in their class, but Silver can't seem to comprehend why the girls regard him as if he's some sort of Greek god. Across the way is a banner decorated with little red hearts and girly handwriting. Silver remembers. It's February.
"Ethan gave me a Valentine!" Naomi raves, showing off the little red note that reads, 'Happy Valentines! −Ethan Ward.' Silver observes how his handwriting is boyish and messy, how it didn't even say Naomi's name on it and how she saw two other girls showing off identical cards earlier that day. Naomi seems oblivious to all this and Silver wonders if it's by nature or force.
"Good for you," Silver responds and Naomi seems to take the disinterested tone as bitterness. The curly-haired dirty blonde frowns and embraces Silver in a hug, pinning the dark-haired girl's arms to her sides. She protests irritably though Naomi simply holds her tighter.
"It isn't important anyways," Naomi says loftily after releasing Silver from her anaconda-like hold. "It's just a stupid Valentine."
"A stupid Valentine that you can't stop staring at," Silver teases playfully, showing Naomi that she really doesn't care about any of this. Naomi begins squealing once again and Silver smiles, knowing that if any girl in their class really has a chance with Ethan, that girl is Naomi Clark.
"C'mon," Naomi calls and links her arm with Silver's. "I hear today they've got heart-shaped sugar cookies in the caf."
"How exciting," Silver pipes in sarcastically and Naomi nudges her friend, sure to remind her of that one sleepover where Silver was dared to eat her weight in sugar cookies and she did. Pausing suddenly, Silver slips her arm out of Naomi's grasp and takes a step back.
"What's wrong?"
"I forgot my binder in social studies," she says after realizing how light her bag is. "I'll meet you at our spot in the caf, okay?"
"Don't take too long," Naomi warns sternly. "The lacrosse boys eat like horses. There won't be any cookies left."
Silver reassures Naomi and takes off in the opposite direction. Despite the rule about students being prohibited from entering a classroom unattended, Silver barges in, throwing the door open and charging right in. That's when she sees her lonesome binder propped up against the metal leg of her desk. The second she lifts it, something slips out.
Silver treats it like a foreign object, cautious as she lifts the pink heart-shaped paper and inspects it with uncertainty in her expression. Written carefully across the paper in crayon is:
Silver,
Will you be my valentine?
Love,
Ethan
P.S: this is cerulean right?
She can't help the smile that forms on her face as she runs her fingertips lightly across the waxy letters. This is thoughtful and unexpected and so wrong. He can't like her. He can't. He's supposed to like Naomi. It's only right for the most popular boy in their class and the most popular girl to be together, eventually high school sweethearts, Prom King and Prom Queen. He's not supposed to like the best friend. This would kill Naomi.
Silver's face is completely blank as the paper heart collapses in the palm of her hand. She somehow manages to convince herself that this is nothing, but some cruel, stupid trick. She blatantly lies to herself for the sake of her best friend because she isn't willing to risk her friendship on a stupid piece of paper, despite the sincerity and the cerulean.
Just as she tosses it into the trash can, Silver realizes he's standing there, has been watching the entire time. As she walks right by him and out the door, Silver pretends she doesn't see Ethan standing there, alone and distraught. She falters for a moment before continuing down the hallway.
"Wow," she hears his voice follow her. "That didn't hurt at all."
Silver wants to keep walking like she doesn't heard him, like her heart isn't breaking, but he's Ethan Ward and she's known him almost as long as Naomi. She doesn't think she can fully ice him out and it slightly worries her.
"I'm sorry, Ethan," she says softly though it doesn't seem to lighten the mood. She did just crush the boy's heart and thrown it away − both literally and figuratively. Silver really has no idea what to do next, only being twelve and lacking experience. So she lies. "Um, Dustin already asked me so…"
"Why him?" Ethan asks immediately, eyes so intense and intrusive.
Silver throws him an apologetic look before hugging her binder to her chest and turning away.
She bites her bottom lip, mumbling, "Because my best friend isn't in love with him."
...
Eighth grade
Silver can't remember how old she was when she first started noticing her parents and their violent bickering. She suspects it began even before she was born. It's one of the many reasons she doesn't waste much thought on love and marriage. If love means taking turns screaming at each other and marriage means pretending to be absolutely perfect in front of the children and the public then Silver doesn't want it. She never wants to fall in love.
Her mother's screeches makes her ears bleed and her father's need to throw things (usually glass things) around distracts her from whatever homework she's trying to get done. She simply locks her bedroom door and turns up the dial of her stereo. Music has the ability to enchant her, distract her and drown out everything else.
It blocks out everything except a loud bang to her window.
Silver easily forgets about the math homework she's yet to start and cautiously creeps to the window. Her fingers curl tightly around her yellow pencil, ready incase it's some stupid burglar who's trying to rob a house despite the vicious argument occurring just downstairs.
She shoves her window open just to be met by a figure jumping out and making gurgling sounds. Silver gasps, ready with her pencil, but then she hears laughter and the fear clouding her mind begins to thin. She realizes it's just stupid Ethan crouching on her roof with that impossibly bright smile of his.
"Nice night for a walk, huh?"
"Ethan," she scowls and tightly folds her arms over her chest. He clumsily crawls in and coolly sits on the window sill, leaning contently against the frame. "You scared the shit out of me."
"Then mission accomplished," he smiles and she instantly rolls her eyes.
Annoyed, Silver entertains the thought of shoving him, just one good shove and Ethan will be on the lawn, crying. Silver's pretty sure even the star athlete can't play lacrosse with a broken arm. She quickly reconsiders though, knowing her parents would probably send her to some correctional facility or worse − St Claire's. Silver's amused at the very idea of going to Catholic school, an all girls one at that.
Instead, she keeps her arms close to her in a valiant attempt to suppress her urge to shove him off the roof. After her breaking his little, fragile heart in the sixth grade, Ethan immediately backed off. It only took the rest of the year for him to realize the implication in her words and start pursuing Naomi.
Ethan insisted he wanted to be Naomi's friend even though everyone knew they'd be officially together before the end of summer. Silver hated being the third wheel and the tiny fact that she broke his heart only made things uncomfortable for everyone except blissful, oblivious Naomi who insisted Silver hang out with her and Ethan. There was protest, of course, she is Silver, but Naomi always gets her way.
They simply learn to play their parts. He seems to tolerate her for Naomi's sake and she acts as if he annoys her and no one is the wiser.
"Yeah, scaling my house uninvited, not cool, Ward," Silver warns him and grows irritated when his wide grin refuses to weaken. She sighs exasperatedly, "Ethan, what do you want?"
He shrugs with a smirk. "I don't know. What do you want, Silver?"
A few high school freshmen giggle when they walked past him at the mall last week and all of a sudden Ethan thinks he's God's gift to women or something. Silver simply rolls her eyes to show him she's not impressed. Suddenly his face softens and a brief look of unease flickering across his face.
"Sounds ugly downstairs," he mentions and Silver feels a bitter laugh in her throat. Mel and Jackie have outdone themselves this time if they can be heard all the way from Ethan's house.
Without looking at him, Silver responds, "It's always ugly with them."
"Not always. They made you, didn't they?" he contradicts and though her eyes are on the Persian rug that probably cost a fortune, she can just imagine that Herculean smile of his.
She pays no attention to the compliment. "Again, what do you want, Ethan?"
"Walk with me." Silver follows his gaze out the open window, being reminded of how big the world is. There's a world outside this suffocating house and outside this superficial zip code. Ethan Ward is ready and willing to be her escape but still she hesitates.
"Ethan Ward wants to walk with me?" Silver laughs. "Here's an idea, Ethan. I'm going to go back to doing my math homework and you can go ask Naomi. I bet she'd be thrilled."
"Naomi's not the one with parents who remind me of my own," Ethan says softly and when Silver finally looks at him, he looks away. "C'mon, Silver, homework is why God invented homeroom."
Ethan turns to her, showcasing his perfect, pearly white teeth and she soon finds herself giving in. She soon finds herself leaping from her rooftop to an unstable tree and cursing aloud the entire time. Ethan laughs lightly to himself, offering his hand then firmly grabbing her arm when she refuses. It was a pain in the ass to escape, but once she's on the ground and unscathed, she's glad to be out.
It's a surprisingly cool night in Beverly Hills and Silver gladly greets the breeze with a small smile. The moon hangs overhead, so bright and full, lighting the stone path on the side of her house. They walk in a calm silence, neither knowing where they're headed. It just feels nice to be out of there, to be able to breath and actually feel oxygen filling her lungs.
"I think my dad's cheating on my mom," Silver says abruptly. She doesn't even realize she's said anything until her words meet her own ears. She turns to Ethan, searching for his reaction, waiting for him to tell her she's wrong, that her father would never do that.
"Oh."
Silver's a bit annoyed by his reaction and even more interested in the way his face twists to show his remorse. It isn't remorse for what her father has been doing, but something else. Silver can't place it, but she doesn't like it.
"Ethan, tell me what's going on," she says simply. It entertains her how Ethan has no poker face. As hard as he tries, his face always gives away how he's feeling. He's like a raw egg in the palm of her hand, so fragile, so easy to crack.
"I kinda…knew," he says and she feels her heartbeat quicken, but not in the way it usually does when Ethan Ward is in the general vicinity. She stops walking and roughly grabs his forearm to which Ethan flinches away.
"Did he tell her?! Did you overhear my parents?"
"No, I, um, no, I didn't," he replies nervously. Silver starts moving forward, further from her house and into the night. Ethan follows promptly. "I, um, Naomi told me and since my parents went through sort of the same thing…"
Silver freezes as Ethan's words trail on. Coldly, she demands, "Who else did she tell?"
Ethan shrugs like a guilty child. "I−I don't know."
It's then, at the age of thirteen, that Silver feels her entire world shatter. Her head begins to spin and her legs wobble. Before she can hit the pavement, Ethan grabs her arm, looking at her with concern in his big, chocolate orbs. Silver's failing to grasp any of this. How could she? Naomi is, was her best friend and sworn to secrecy. Yes, it's only Ethan, but who knows who else Naomi could have rambled off to.
A moment later she regains her composure and shoves him away with such force. She hears the faint sound of waves crashing against the pillars of the pier and she follows it with determination.
"You're fucking with me, right?"
Ethan blinks. "What?"
She stops abruptly and her fingers claw at his chest, bunching up the fabric of his t-shirt in her palm and yanking him forcefully forward. She can feel the water glazing her eyes though she refuses to let a single tear fall. "Tell me you're joking. Please."
Silver feels like pushing something over, stomping, screaming until her throat burns. Her mind refuses to wrap around any of this. Part of her wants to believe that it's some cruel joke, that Ethan's just some big jock jerk who's bored with his life and has to ruin others' lives to make his own more interesting. One look into his eyes tells her otherwise.
"I'm not," he tells her honestly and feels her grip on his shirt loosen. She starts walking again and Ethan grunts with frustration before tailing behind. "Look, don't be mad at her. We don't even know if she told anyone else. I just…want you to know that I'm here…if you need me. You aren't the only one with a fucked up family, Silver."
"Thanks," she sneers sarcastically, "how thoughtful of you, super jock."
He shrugs. "It's what friends are for."
"Are we?" Silver asks suddenly, looking almost fearful of his answer. "Are we friends?"
He doesn't answer right away, instead choosing to stare forward. There's something about his face that makes her anxious, maybe the way the moonlight aluminates his features or the fact that for once, she can't read him. Ethan starts pushing forward and Silver realizes that they're on the pier, waves crashing against the pillars in the dark abyss beneath them.
"I dare you," he starts unexpectedly, a small smile tugging at his lips, "to jump in the water."
Silver's eyes widen. "Ethan, what the fuck?"
Now he's smirking. "I knew you wouldn't."
"Encouraging suicide? Nice," Silver retorts with about a million emotions whirling within her. She doesn't know whether to be annoyed with Ethan, angry at her parents and their constant fighting or downright pissed off at Naomi for apparently sharing her secret. "Ethan, what the fuck?"
"Chicken," he challenges and that 'Don't fuck with me I'm Silver' look crosses her face, one he finds breathtaking beneath the moon. She glances over the wooden railing and into the ocean, soon regretting it when she sees nothing but darkness.
"Fine," she agrees, shakily climbing the wooden railing, feet dangling over the edge. Silver looks back at Ethan, completely serious. "Happy, Ethan?"
She keeps her eyes trained on him before taking the plunge and falling into the unknown.
Silver hits the water and instantly her entire body goes numb, being surrounded by water so cold it feels artic. She breaks the surface for air and frantically looks around, seeing nothing at all. Her breathing goes ragged and she struggles to stay afloat, fighting the tide. She hears a swift splash beside her and pair of strong hands clamp down on her shoulders.
"Silver!"
"Ethan!" she calls and presses her wet hand to his face, feeling the familiar curve of such a perfect jaw and wet, tousled hair. She immediately clings to him, arms around his neck, as if for dear life. "Ethan, how do we get back? How do we get back to shore?"
"Silver…just stand up."
At the realization that her feet touch the sand, she laughs.
She's just had the scariest few moments of her life, thinking she was lost at sea. She's drenched in salt water from head to toe, her clothes and cell phone ruined. She's certain there's seaweed or some small sea creature trapped in her hair and strangely, she finds all of this absolutely hilarious.
"You're insane," Ethan says, staring to laugh along. "I wasn't serious about jumping."
"Apparently − I was! Ha!" she gasps, yet to realize her arms are still around his neck. It's then that she feels his arms find her waist and suddenly she's struggling to breath for an entirely different reason. Her laughter dies and her eyes adjust to the darkness, now able to makeout Ethan's face, specifically his dark, smoldering eyes.
"I wish I had eyes as intense as yours…"
"You do," Ethan smiles softly. "Cerulean…"
All of a sudden, Silver feels simultaneously apprehensive, lively and absolutely terrified.
When she's with Ethan, just being stupid and alive, she feels like she's on some sort of drug. She feels her heart increase its beats, her temperature rise, suddenly so edgy and often petulant. He leaves her breathless and to Silver, it's always been something to be repressed.
Yes, her supposed best friend has just fucked her over and this is the boy said best friend has been pining over since the third grade. Silver knows how close they are, how easy it is to press her lips to his. She knows that if she kisses Ethan, he wouldn't pull away. She knows that she solely holds control over this thing − yes, thing − because it's obviously deeper than friendship though she sure as hell isn't his girlfriend.
An eye for an eye, right?
In that single moment, Silver feels like the strongest person in the world when, instead of using him to spite Naomi, she stands and breaks their embrace.
"Thanks Ethan. I really needed this walk," she says sincerely; however, as she stands, she can't help but be weighed down by her heavy, water-soaked clothes and the impending doom that is the future. "Ugh, I need to talk to Naomi. Tomorrow is definitely going to suck."
"Always the pessimist," Ethan lightheartedly notes. He walks at her side and the back of their hands lightly brush, setting off a set of chills that run down Silver's spine and shock her to her very core. "I'm sure you'll survive."
Silver grimaces. "What makes you so sure?"
He looks directly at her. "Because I know you…"
...
Freshman year
They're fourteen the first time Silver truly gets pissed off at Ethan Ward.
She barrels through the Beverly Hills mansion on a mission. Her hands are balled into fists and her hair is whipping her cheeks with every frantic turn of her head. She's looking from side to side, trying to sort through all the nameless faces and ignoring the lustful eyes that follow her every move. Not one of them would dare approach her, no bitchy girl looking for a round of immature name-calling, no boy looking to get laid. Her eyes scream murder.
That's when she sees him in the corner, back against the wall. He's looking around, so lost and afraid, and the sea of people pretend they don't see him, too busy with their clear liquor and empty laughs. It breaks her heart to see him like this, so scared and so alone. Her eyes soften and she can't take it anymore, shoving through the crowd, moving towards him.
"Steven…"
His eyes snap to her, so vacant, like a deer caught in the headlights. His response is jumbled and all Silver knows is that she needs to get him out of this poisonous environment. She takes him firmly by the arm only to have him pull away, long arms wrapped around his shoulders.
"Steven," she says again, firmly grabbing onto his arm. Silver forces him to look her in the eyes and it's only a matter of time before he's lost in the cerulean sea. "It's time to go."
He nods quickly and Silver keeps him right at her side, guiding him through the crowd of superficial faces. Her eyes narrow at the curious eyes and people begin to back away with caution. She has no idea where she's going, but it definitely isn't her house where her mother has a date with a bottle of vodka.
Feeling the quaking, cold skin beneath her fingers, Silver's reminded of how much she hates this place. Beverly Hills is gilded. People only see the overlaying layer of gold, the glamour and the flashing lights. They don't see the corruption and the darkness hidden within. The corruption and darkness is the thing that destroys people, families and friendships.
"Silver!"
She doesn't want to turn back. She doesn't want to have to deal with him right now and she knows, just knows that the moment she meets those damn sad puppy dog eyes, she'll give into him. No matter how much she hates his lifestyle and his friends and his actions. She knows she can never hate him. Ever.
Silver's quite surprised that she manages to get out through the front door without a Mean Girls-esque confrontation especially after her falling out with Naomi. Steven seems to have softened to her touch and his mumbles ceased, leaving a nice silence between them. She feels a strong grip on her elbow and her heart gives an unexpected, unexplainable, wild thump.
"Silver…" her name from his voice sounds so natural, so right. "Wh−where are you going?"
Before she even thinks to answer, Silver gently guides Steven to a metal bench in the garden that looks absolutely magical under the full moon. Silver has no time to contemplate the beauty of the night when she can feel Ethan's eyes burning into her and Steven's face is sheer confusion. After whispering into his ear, assuring Steven that everything's okay, Silver takes a deep breath, heading back over to the stupider brother.
"I found Steven in a corner freaking out! What the fuck do you think you're doing, Ethan?" Silver demands, eyes narrowed into angry slits of cerulean. She stomps over to him in her knee-height boots with thin arms exasperatedly thrown into the air. She's shaking with anger and Ethan remains eerily cool.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Ethan whispers and she prepares herself for one of his many excuses. "It was just Naomi, Steven and me watching a movie. Then Steven fell asleep and Naomi invited a few people over−"
"A few," Silver scowls.
"I thought he was upstairs sleeping this whole time, I swear," Ethan argues, motioning to his brother. "I didn't mean…"
"You never do," Silver swiftly cuts him off, her arms crossed.
They stand there for what feels like eternity, his steely gaze following her eyes that seem to glow with the lighting. Silver tries to stare past him, tries to look right through him, but once she meets the blazing orbs, she's caught. She sees how he's hurt and how he's angry with himself and sincerely sorry.
"I−" he starts but his voice soon dies. Silver swallows despite the lump in her throat and watches him try to form coherent thoughts. "Silver, I…I didn't want things to play out this way."
She irritably looks away. "You said that already."
"Not that," Ethan quickly responds. She feels the back of his hand brush hers and she almost gasps at the sudden warmth at his touch. "I mean you and me and Naomi. What she did−"
"Don't make excuses for her," Silver says immediately, averting her eyes of sheer fury. "Naomi did what she did and you did what you had to do. You stood by your girlfriend. It is what it is. Whatever."
It's silent again and the way he's looking at her is pure torture. If it was anyone else, she would be halfway home by now. She's Silver and Silver doesn't take this bullshit from anyone. The only thing keeping her from turning away is that feeling in the pit of her stomach, the feeling she can't name or understand.
"You should get back inside," Silver quietly instructs. You should get back to Naomi, she adds in her head but never voices. Talking to Ethan is like talking to a brick wall with soulful puppy dog eyes. Silver finds it annoying and yet she can't seem to break the spell he has on her.
"Yeah," he agrees after a short pause, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "I'd really rather drive my SUV off the pier after that fight with Naomi…"
She shouldn't care, but strangely, she questions, "What would Mr. and Mrs. Perfect American Dream possibly have to fight about?"
"Believe it or not…you," Ethan explains quietly and if Silver hadn't been straining her ears for the answer, she probably wouldn't have heard it. "I just…I hate how she − we − all of us act like we weren't best friends before starting high school."
Silver sighs, "We're different people now."
He laughs softly, an absolutely soothing sound. "Really, Silver? Because to be honest, I still see that little girl in Miss Amy's third grade class, making the teacher cry on the first day."
"She didn't cry," Silver strongly defends though she can't help but give in to the smile creeping onto her face. "Hey, I heard Miss Amy gave up teaching all together and now she works at some sleazy strip joint downtown."
"Figures," Ethan chuckles. "It's always the sweet ones you need to watch out for."
He turns to smile at her. Silver smiles back and she hates herself for encouraging him.
"We should hang out like old times," Ethan proposes. "We can go for a walk or something."
"Yeah, because that worked out so well last time," Silver scoffs, revisiting distinct memories of walking home soaking wet and catching a cold soon after. They share another smile and Silver knows she has to put an end to this because Ethan couldn't even if he wanted to. "I don't think your girlfriend would like that very much."
"Naomi doesn't like much these days," Ethan says with a shrug.
"Really? Because it seems like she's crazy about you," Silver is sure to remind him and it hurts just watching a wave of guilt washes over him, knocking that lighthearted smile off his face. "And you're crazy about her."
"Like you said, we're different people now," Ethan reiterates, coyly tucking his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans. "What makes you so sure?"
Silver laughs, slowly but surely backing away from him. "Because I know you…"
Silver has a knack for leaving Ethan standing alone, bewildered and flustered. Always with Silver, the bewilderment melts into intrigue and he doesn't mind being flustered, but the alone part he could do without.
He'd much rather be with her.
...
Sophomore Year
Ethan finds it strange, the drama between Naomi and Silver. It makes him feel even worse to think that he might be the reason the two are no longer best friends. It's usually Naomi with the snide remarks and deadly glares, isolating Silver who gladly spends her time devoted to her camera and blog. And Ethan just stands by Naomi's side, not making things better or worse.
He hates his position, he really does. He hates feeling like he was never the person Silver told things to. He hates feeling like he doesn't know anything about her anymore even though some days he's convinced he knows her better than the back of his hand.
The thing is that Silver's made it clear that she doesn't want him on multiple occasions. Her eyes, those two cerulean orbs he's been in love with since he was nine-years-old, his favorite color, tell a completely different story from the words that leave her lips. Still, he has to take her words as the truth and move on.
It's early, the first day of sophomore year at West Beverly High. Ethan Ward, muscular, tan, popular Ethan Ward, walks down the hallway with a bright smile and the swagger of a senior. He's ditched his Superman backpack, his fingers wrapped around a lacrosse stick. Girls stop to wink, boys reach out for high-fives. He's loved.
His smile fades and his lips go into spasms at the very sight of the only person (beside his father on occasions) that can make Ethan Ward feel unloved.
For a moment he prays their lockers aren't close. The last year has felt like a twelve step program. Twelve steps to forgetting a girl − the girl you love − the girl that doesn't want you. Ethan thinks he's been doing a good job. He's stopped climbing that tree outside her house and tapping on her window. He's been with Naomi and that girl from that summer and half of the most popular girls at West Beverly.
It's a shame that fate has chosen to scorn him and his efforts, placing his locker close to hers.
He watches her for a minute, how dark and straight her hair is, falls across her shoulders, how thin she seems, her boots and that headband, the way her eyes show frustrations, lips murmuring curses and fists pounding against the metal locker in front of her.
He licks his lips and finds his feet not communicating with his legs, walking towards her.
"Having trouble?"
"Yeah, you think? I hate this stupid locker and this whole stupid place!" the girl growls menacingly with another jab to the cold, metal door. "You'd think that Beverly Hills with its glamour and sparkle could afford some lockers that actually work! It's all so UGH!"
"Stupid?" Ethan supplies while coolly leaning against the wall of lockers, resting his lacrosse stick atop his broad shoulder.
Silver's lips part as if to continue, but then her eyes, those brilliant cerulean eyes that leave him flustered, find his face. There's a moment of silence between the two. Her fist lifelessly slides down the locker door and limply falls to her side. The corner of Ethan's lips pull back in a slight smile, his dark eyes staring back at her with just as much intensity.
"You," Silver manages, unblinking. "Jock Boy, you look like a barbarian, holding your stick thingy like that…"
"And you look like you're about to deface school property," Ethan smoothly retorts. She won't show it, but he knows she's impressed. Not many people have the guts to even talk to Erin Silver. Ethan Ward is one of few.
His eyes dart to the locker before meeting hers once again. "Need help?"
"I'm fine," she says pointedly before looking from side to side. "What are you doing, Ethan? Something tells me your owner's about to yank your short little leash sometime soon."
"Naomi doesn't own me," Ethan defensively replies.
"Yeah, right," Silver snorts.
Ethan narrows his eyes, peeved. "Do you need help or not?"
"It isn't one of your stupid sluts, Ethan. You can't just bang it and expect the locker to−"
Ethan rolls his eyes and snatches the small white card from her loose fingers. Silver stops mid-sentence, her little pink mouth gaping. Ethan looks over the small card, hoping it doesn't give away the fact that he's shaking. He gives the metal lock a twirl, slow and precise.
"See, Silver," he calls her attention, "the trick is not to try and beat the crap out of it. You gotta be patient."
Silver laughs humorlessly with arms crossed and walls up. "And patience is your virtue?"
Yes. I waited − am waiting − for you. Ethan pushes the thought to the back of his head, looking down at the card.
"So, um," he starts nervously. "How was your summer?"
"Fine," she answers vaguely. "How're, um, Steven and your mom?"
"We have some good days, some bad," Ethan replies, just as vague. "We just learn to deal, you know?"
She nods and whispers, "more than you know…"
He knows she had a shitty summer with Jackie and the drinking. She knows about his mother's nervous breakdown and his inability to fill the spot his father left behind, especially with Steven. He doesn't mention Jackie. She never publishes anything about his home life on the Vicious Circle. Unlike most of their classmates, they know some secrets are meant to be kept and they keep each other's.
He licks his lips, gathering every ounce of confidence within him. "You know, I…I miss being your friend…"
She says nothing and the silence is shattering. There's a quiet click and he backs away. Silver reaches for the little metal handle, her lips cemented together with reluctance.
Why? Why does he always have to try with her? Out of all the girls in the entire universe, why does he have to fall for Erin Frickin' Silver? Why did she have to let her friendship with Naomi (a friendship that disintegrated in the worst way) get in the way of this almost magnetic connection with Ethan? Why?
She pulls her locker door open and he loudly clears his throat.
"Not only does he score winning goals, jock boy is a magician with lockers," Silver sings as if his little confession never met her ears. Ethan cracks a smile, a sad smile and she seems to effortlessly ignore it.
"You're welcome," he says because he knows she won't actually say 'thank you.' With hands in his pockets, he steps back, steps away from her. "If you ever need me, I'm only three lockers down."
Silver forces a smile. "Good to know."
She shoves an armful of books into her locker. Watching out of the corner of his eye, Ethan notices how frantic she is in her movement, how she seems to be in a hurry, how desperate she seems to get away from him. She shuts her locker and walks away without another word and honestly, it hurts, yeah, but Ethan doesn't let it show. He's just as closed up as she is.
Five minutes later, his phone beeps and he fishes it out, disregarding the rumors of this new principal ruling with an iron fists. Ethan reads the text and smiles. Ethan smiles because she hides behind technology, but it also helps her express what she can never say.
I miss you too, jock boy. -S
...
At lunch, Silver takes a deep breath before wrapping her fingers around the dial of her combination lock. She hears Ethan's smooth voice in her head, reminding her to be patient. For a split-second, she feels stupid and idiotic, sending him that stupid text message and not getting one in return. She can just imagine him showing all of his popular friends, laughing like she's some joke. A moment later, the thought dissolves. It's Ethan. She knows him. He'd never do that especially to her.
She finally gets the locker open, feeling rather successful. Taped to the inside of the metal door is a piece of paper she didn't place there, something that melts her heart even if she won't admit it. The edges are yellow with age and the ink is faded though you can easily makeout two stick figures − a boy with a big smile and a girl with blue eyes.
"I, um, saw this girl today," Ethan speaks in a quiet voice. His eyes lift from his shoes and he looks at Silver, just Silver. "And I want to be her friend."
When Silver's sixteen-years-old, Ethan Ward − beautiful Ethan, foolish Ethan, strong and kind-eyed and understanding and troubled Ethan − becomes her friend again.
Ten minutes after seeing him, Annie Wilson falls for Silver's secret friend.
Another ten minutes later, Silver pretends to fall for Annie's brother.
They're so good. Ethan and Silver are so good with sneaking glances and pretending their past, their shared stories never were. She hesitates when Annie Wilson, sweet and naive Annie Wilson, tells her that she wants to date Ethan. Silver feels history repeating itself, placing her in the best friend role once again. Ethan knows, he knows that one kiss can change everything. He wants to kiss Erin Silver just like he was going to that night under the pier, but his rivalry with Dixon turns to friendship and he understands her position and he looks the other way.
Despite the distance, Ethan and Silver still have their moments, moments that remind them of what they had and what they could have. When their eyes meet in a secret gaze in the midst of a busy crowd at a lacrosse match, neither can recall a time in their lives when they've felt so close yet so excruciatingly far.
Author's note: Okay, I know I'm not the only Ethan/Silver shipper out there! Review and maybe I'll write another one. [: