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Expiration Date

IV.

"So Phineas leaves tomorrow morning."

A simple statement. One that occurs often enough due to Phineas' job requirements, but it feels different this time. Like there's a ray of hope that will happen because of him leaving. It'll give Scarlett a chance to do whatever she going to do, and give me a chance to catch her, thus giving Phineas and I the opportunity that never…

I looked over to the stove when I heard loud sizzling. Ferb decided to make steak fajitas, so lucky for me that I chose to stop by to go over the plans for our spying game tomorrow. I was sitting on one of his barstools at his kitchen island, running my hands over the smooth marble surface. I always wanted to put one of these in my own kitchen.

My eyes glazed over as he began cutting up onions and peppers to throw in the skillet. I put both my elbows on the table (so ladylike, I know) and cradled my chin in my palms, "I wonder what Phineas and Scarlett do on nights before he leaves…"

"I'd prefer not to ponder those kinds of thoughts," Ferb answered shortly.

It should have been humorous, and I suppose if we were talking about anyone else I would have at least grinned, but I sadly only felt my heart quenching.

"I mean, Phineas doesn't seem to do anything romantic with her…is he still oblivious to certain…things?" I wonder aloud, much to my (and probably Ferb's) dismay.

Ferb threw all the veggies into the skillet and tossed all the ingredients around to allow the flavors to blend.

"Then again, he has been in a relationship for seven years now. I don't think anyone can stay oblivious to much after the first year." Not that I would know. I never made it past date number two with anyone, "I wonder if she…" I trailed off, not really wanting to go down that road, "Well, the good thing is, once Phineas finally notices me, I probably won't have to teach him anything."

Leaving the skillet on the flame for a moment, Ferb turned around to me and sat down on a stool on the other side of the island. And he just stared at me. And after about ten seconds, I groaned and hid my face in my hands, "That sounds completely pathetic, doesn't it?"

"I didn't want to say anything," came his response.

I spread my fingers to peek at him. To this day, I don't know how Ferb has been able to put up with listening to me talk like this. Most of my Fireside friends distanced themselves a bit from me over the years because they simply got sick of hearing me go on and on and on and on.

I'm sure Ferb got sick of hearing it, too, but he also has this weird thing where he doesn't need to talk so he doesn't get annoyed when I'm constantly talking over him.

"Pepper jack cheese?" Ferb asked.

I sighed, "Yes, please."

He turned back to the stove. I stared blankly out the window, "I might need to go out tonight."

"It's a Monday night," he reminded me.

He knew I usually tried to wait until the weekend to take care of my mindless rendezvous, but I couldn't stand sitting here alone while imagining what was going on in the house down the street…

"I just…I just need to be doing the same thing," I said desperately, "Or forget what I'm doing. I don't know!"

Desperation. That's what it's been forever now. They say there's five stages to depression. The first stage is pure sadness. You're very aware of what's going on and it's just so damn heartrending when you don't have the power to stop it. Seeing the love of my life with someone else pierces my heart like nothing else has ever done, and probably ever will. This stage, for me, lasted about the first eight or so months that Phineas started dating Scarlett. I was prone to random crying sessions and public displays of embarrassment.

The next three stages are desperation, anger, and frustration. I've been ping-ponging these three back and forth for the last six or so years. I seem to have my moments for each one.

I still remember the moment I got over my first stage.

Baljeet, Ginger, Ferb, and I had just got some slushies at a new slushy stand that just opened up, called Slush-O-Rama, and thought it would be a wonderful idea to help us cool down. We had just sat down at a holey table (you know the ones with connected holey benches that leave really irritating marks on your legs if your shorts are short enough?) to enjoy our icy goodies when, lo and behold, Phineas and Scarlett come strolling by.

They didn't see us, but once everyone at my table spotted them, they quickly turned to the center of the table and rushed to make conversation.

"We should go swimming after this," Ginger suggested, "Do you think your mom would mind if we used the pool, Isabella?"

"That is an excellent idea!" Baljeet overemphasized, "We should all walk to our houses so we can get our swimwear."

Ferb gave the idea a thumbs up.

But despite them trying their best to get me out of there before salty tears ran down my cheeks and ruined my slushy, I couldn't help but stare at the happy couple. Seeing her wrap an arm around his waist. Seeing her grab his arm and wrap it around her. Seeing them spot the slushy stand and point joyously at all the flavors and laugh at probably nothing.

My friends, along with myself, were then surprised when I didn't choke up, but rather, narrowed my eyes and popped my Styrofoam cup from squeezing it so hard. My nails went right through the flimsy material and I could feel the sticky substance in the slushy run down my fingers. I heard the light dripping as the liquid hit the hot pavement, and though it was a waste of a perfectly good slushy, it kept me from doing the same thing to something else and ending up in jail.

Ferb took my cup and threw it away before handing me some napkins, "Would you like to go scream underwater?"

He knew just what I needed. I stood up with my three friends and went to do just that.

"I have Tecate in the fridge," Ferb told me, now in the process of putting the fajitas together, "Or frozen mojito mixes in the freezer."

I stared openmouthed at him, "You'd share your alcohol with me?"

"Well, it's either that or you'll be calling me at three in the morning, asking to be picked up."

I should have blushed but only ended up laughing as I jumped from the table, "Touché." I opened up his freezer and saw he had four mixes in there, "I'm making you one, too, right?"

"I suppose one can't hurt. And it'll go great with the fajitas," Ferb got two plates as I got two glasses. I was secretly hoping that drinking here still wouldn't spark my desire to go out and find a random guy, because I knew drinking didn't make me forget about Phineas, it only kind of dulled my smartness about it, if that makes any sense.

So we ate our delicious meal and the mojitos turned out to be surprisingly strong, so about time I finished my second one, I was on a giddy high and prompted Ferb to go outside to his pool and have a few more drinks with me. He agreed, but probably only because he knew I would go out to the pool even if he didn't, and he didn't want to have a drunk girl drowning unknowingly on his property.

But as luck would have it, I didn't feel like jumping in the pool (good thing, because I didn't bring any extra clothes), so we both just sat on the side with our feet in the water. I was holding my third mojito and he had a bottle of Tecate beside him. He was laying back to look up at the dark sky as I stared at the lighted water.

"So it's probably about midnight," I spoke first (nothing new there), "Do you think they're asleep now?"

"Yes," he said confidently.

I grin back at him over my shoulder, "You're just saying that so I'll go to sleep, too."

"Not at all."

Then all of a sudden, all the alcohol hit me at once and I felt myself getting drunk as I took another long sip from my glass, "I don't think he really loves her. If he did, he would have asked her to marry him by now. Seriously, who dates for seven years and doesn't get engaged?! I think she's tired of waiting, too. That's why she started cheating on him when he's away. But if she's so tired of waiting, why not just forget about him?"

"Why not ask yourself the same question?" His voice swam around in my wispy head for an elongated moment as I tried to process what he was saying.

"Oh, ha-ha, Ferb," I said sarcastically, "For your information, I'm not tired of waiting, I'm infuriated of waiting." Whether this made sense or not, I didn't care, "And my waiting is a completely different kind of waiting than her waiting."

When he didn't say anything, I turned around to face him. This brought my one foot out of the water and I felt the cool summer night air on my sensitive skin, "Ferb, all those years ago, when I asked you what I should do, you told me to never give up hope. I'm really trying here, but sometimes…" I choked up. I wasn't drinking in my normal bar setting where I have other distractions and no one to talk to about this stuff, and it was bringing out that pure sadness stage.

Ferb quickly sat up, "When I told you that, I simply meant to never give up hope that someone else will love you. It had nothing to do with waiting for Phineas to suddenly have romantic feelings toward you."

Hearing him say this should have changed my whole perspective on things, but it just didn't. It may have been my drunken mind, but his words had very little impact on me.

"How come you…" I trailed off, averting my eyes away from his and down to my glass that was half empty. I could feel him staring at me, waiting for me to continue. "How come you've put up with me all these years?"

He grabbed his drink and took a short sip, "I wouldn't call being there for a friend something I've put up with."

I ran my finger around the rim of the glass, "Do you think I choose bad ways to cope?"

"I'm not here to judge."

"I'm not asking for you to judge, I'm asking for your opinion."

"As a wise Buddhist monk once said, 'The amount of happiness that you have depends on the amount of freedom you have in your heart'."

I burst out laughing in a drunk sort of way, "You say some deep shit, you know that? All this talk about freedom and hearts…"

Ferb shrugged and took another sip of his beer, and for some reason, seeing this made me feel terrible. Did he think I was mocking him? Because if I was, my true, sober self didn't mean to. I know he was only trying to help; that's what he always tries to do for me.

Sadly, I whisper, "I can't just unlove him, ya know?"

He nodded in understanding.

I sighed deeply, "I don't know how I'm going to be able to wake up in the morning…"

"I'll make sure you get up," he offered.

I nodded, "Thanks…and you're still meeting up with me tomorrow afternoon to…" I wanted to go ahead and say "spy on Scarlett" but even thinking it sounded so wrong.

He understood anyway, "I suppose."

"You're the best," I drank down the rest of my glass before going to stand up. I was pretty wobbly and had a hard time measuring the distance between the ground and my hand, but then I saw a hand reaching down to help me up.

And just like he's done for the past seven years, Ferb helped me up off the ground with a strong steadiness.

"Are you coming to bed, too?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I started laughing and my arms swayed, my body feeling like it weighed nothing, "Oh my God, I can't believe I just asked you that!"

Without answering, he turned and walked in the house and I was able to follow with minimal problems. I set my glass in the sink and walked toward his guest bedroom. I was fairly familiar with it, and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one that's ever used it. So when I spotted the readymade queen-sized bed, my heart soared as I flopped myself down on the sheets.

"See you at seven," I heard Ferb call from the hallway.

I tried saying, "Goodnight, Ferb," but it came out so jumbled it was hardly intelligible.

I sniffed the pillow and the familiar scent told me that I've been here before, but it had a different smell than the pillow at my own house, because it was Ferb's pillow, so it was a strange mixed fragrance. But it was the most comforting aroma in some weird way and it made me fall asleep immediately.