Hey guys! Thanks so much for all of your interest and support for the last chapter, it means so much to me!

I have to say, writing this chapter was a real pleasure. I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or settings from Rocket Power or YouTube.

Sorry for any grammatical errors or typos!


Chapter Nine

-Sam's POV-

I threw my hands in front of me, catching myself and narrowly avoiding face-to-concrete contact. My fingerless boarding gloves took the worst of it for me, the rough material scraping hard against the ground.

"You okay, Sam?" I heard Twister call over to me. I swiveled my head to look in his direction, and he was turned away from Otto tearing up the half-pipe, camera in hand and squinting at me. It was sunny out, the first sunny day we'd had in a while. Southern California was having its infamous rainy season, and we'd decided to take advantage of the good weather. Well, except for Reggie—she was doing something with Trish today. And avoiding Twister, probably.

I sighed, picking myself up off the ground and nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks Twist." At my response, Twister smiled and quickly turned back to Otto. I trudged over to where my skateboard had rolled after my sad attempt at riding the rail.

I picked it up and stared at it in my hands, frowning. Admittedly, it had been a while since I'd been able to come to Madtown with the guys, with all of my AP classes and cramming in extra credits I needed before graduation, but I didn't think I would be that rusty. It wasn't like I had come up to Otto's level of boarding, but I'd made some progress over the years. My boarding skills had probably become equal to Twister's skills in more recent years, and I almost never fell anymore—well, until now. A few months away from my skateboard and it was like I'd gone back to my Squid days.

Despite all the wiping out, though, I was glad I came. I'd wanted to go out there and get my mind off of things.

The end of January was nearing, and it had been almost a month since our cabin trip over the holidays. Coming back to Ocean Shores and going back to school after the holiday was an adjustment, as it always was. But it was almost impossible not to keep thinking about that trip.

During the night, as I tried to fall asleep, I found myself going back and thinking over every little moment I'd spent with Trish. Every little moment she'd looked at me. Every moment she laughed at something, her nose scrunching up as I felt something inside me die a little bit. The way she'd looked out in the snow, radiant but serene at the same time.

And New Year's Eve.

On New Year's Eve, we'd found out about a party happening at the main lodge up at the resort, and the whole gang went—except for Ray and Tito, they had decided to celebrate back at the cabin, probably knowing the party would most likely be full of loud teenagers anyway.

And it was. There was probably every teenager in the resort at that party, and even though I didn't normally go to that many parties myself, even I had to admit it was a blast. All of us mostly stayed together and then rang in the New Year together.

When the ball dropped on the television though, something strange happened. Otto, Reggie and Twister were cheering and hollering with the rest of the crowd—although the latter two had a slight awkward moment where they looked at each other and then quickly looked away. But as there were couples everywhere kissing, and even some strangers, and I found myself looking around at them in envy, I glanced at Trish—and she was already looking at me. Her cheeks were pink, and as soon as I looked at her, she quickly looked away, blinking furiously.

And then almost as quickly as she'd looked away, she looked me again, shyly. "Happy New Year, Sam," she'd said. She was playing with the ends of her long hair, and seemed…uneasy. I was so used to seeing Trish look confident and calm and self assured that nervousness looked so different on her.

I was suddenly hyper aware of all the people making out around us, and I suddenly felt very, very anxious. I cleared my throat. "Happy New Year, Trish." I'd said back.

We'd looked at each other for a little while after that, with a strange sort of hesitant, expectant aura between us, and then we turned away from each other, wishing our other friends a Happy New Year. The rest of the night, we avoided each other.

Whether it was because of the rush of excitement from the start of the New Year, or the punch that someone had spiked, I didn't know. But I couldn't stop thinking of that moment.

Not just the way she'd been looking at me, but that pause. The space of time when both of us were frozen, staring at each other, and all the noise melted away and it felt like no one else was there anymore.

I couldn't put my finger on why, but that moment felt so profound, and I knew I'd probably never forget it.

Sighing and putting my skateboard back on the ground, I rode over to stand beside the half-pipe where Twister was standing, recording footage of Otto dominating as usual, doing all sorts of tricks and flips and soaring effortlessly like he had wings. A crowd of younger skaters had gathered on the other side of it, watching him in awe and amazement as per usual.

Finishing off his set by leaping off his board and landing on the left deck, grabbing his board mid air, he bowed deeply as the crowd erupted in cheers. Coming back up from his bow, his long dreadlock ponytail whipping back, he waved at them all and shouted, "Thank you, thank you!" He slid down the ramp, came to our side and hopped onto the ground, smiling proudly.

I pounded fists with him, grinning. "Nice one, Otto!"

"Dude, you're on fire today!" Twister exclaimed, also offering his fist to pound, and Otto followed suit. "I got great footage, too. This is going straight to YouTube." He leaned around Otto to shout at the small crowd, who was still lingering, "Check the official Ottoman channel tonight, footage from today will be up!" More cheers came then and Twister gave them a thumbs up.

Otto waved at them again as the crowd began to dissipate, and then turned to Twister and laughed, clapping him on the back. "You're the best unofficial manager ever, bro."

Twister closed his camera and put it in its case, dropped the case into his backpack and stood up, shrugging. "Well you didn't become a YouTube sensation for nothing, man." He smirked, pointing to himself and continued, "But someone's gotta do all the work to keep up the views."

A few years back, a video compilation of Otto shredding that Twister had posted on the website had gone viral with 20 million views. Otto was somewhat of a celebrity among the extreme sports Internet communities, although he didn't go on the Internet much himself. He even had multiple fan blogs dedicated to him, but it didn't even seem to faze him. It was funny, we all had always known that he would become famous in some way or another, but I never imagined it would be this way. Out of us all, I had least expected Otto to become the Internet mogul. If anything, I thought my technology tutorial videos would have gotten mildly popular—alas, they never got over 1,000 views. So went my aspirations of Internet fame.

Satisfied with our trip to Madtown, after stopping to say bye to Conroy, we decided to head to the Shack for some food.

We'd been sitting there, talking, eating and enjoying each other's company, for about ten minutes or so, when we heard someone walk into the restaurant.

Twister had been asking me different questions about the video editing software I'd leant him recently when he turned his head to see who'd walked in, his eyes grew wide, and he nudged my arm. Seeing his shocked expression, I turned to see who it was.

It was Trish, standing under one of the archways at the entrance of the Shack, silent, unsure looking and staring straight at me. I dropped my hot dog back onto my plate, great anxiety and dread and glee rising up inside me all at once.

Before I could think of anything to say first, she was stomping right up to me with an unexpectedly steely, determined look on her face, her gaze unwavering. She stopped a foot in front of me. "Sam," she said, in a clear voice, "Can I talk to you alone for a minute?"

I took a breath, my mouth dropped open like an idiot, and I glanced over at Twister helplessly. He nodded at me and mouthed, 'Go, go!' at me, pushing me off my stool.

I landed heavily on my feet and caught the edge of the countertop to keep from stumbling and falling onto the ground. "Uh, s-sure," I said, and then I straightened my glasses and cleared my throat. "Sure Trish."

She turned on her heel, walking out of the restaurant briskly, and I stumbled after her, following her uneasily. I took one last glance back at Twister and Otto, and they both shrugged at me, seemingly as puzzled as I was. What was it that she wanted to talk to me about? Was she mad at me? Did I do something that bothered her? And where were we going, anyway?

I voiced the last question aloud. "Um, Trish? Where are we going?"

"The beach. I know it's too cold to go out in the water today, but I just wanted to go sit in the sand. It puts me at ease," she said over her shoulder as we walked down the steep ramp off the boardwalk that lead to the beach. When we got to the bottom of it, she turned, looking at me warily. "Is that okay?"

Of course, I should have realized. She even came to the beach when it was chilly outside. Always near her ocean. "Of course," I said, nodding and offering her a grin. "It'll be nice to go there. I haven't been there in a while."

Before turning around and continuing to walk, she smiled back at me, for maybe the first time since she showed up, and it put me at ease, knowing she wasn't angry.

We walked onto the beach, and it was almost completely empty. Tourists only flooded our beaches during Spring Break and the warmer months, so the rest of the time it was locals only. It was tranquil and quiet. I could understand why Trish wanted to come here to talk.

Finding a nice spot to sit away from everyone else, and far enough away from the water that we wouldn't get ambushed with waves, we sat down together, leaving about a foot of space in between us. Sitting alone on the beach with Trish made me feel like pinching myself, just to make sure I wasn't in the middle of one of my extended fantasies. I'd always daydreamed of moments like this—during breaks in class when we didn't have class work, during drives to and from school, before I went to sleep at night and I dreamed about her some more. But this was no daydream.

Interrupting my thoughts, Trish turned to me suddenly, scooting her entire body to face mine. "So, you're probably wondering why I brought you all the way out here just to talk. Right?"

I paused for a moment, and then turned my body to face hers too, folding my legs. "Yeah, kind of," I admitted.

She made this soundless little chuckle, air blowing out of her nose, and my stomach did a flip. "I just…wanted some privacy. I didn't really want the guys to hear us talking."

"Right, okay," I replied, nodding. I cocked my head and gave her a slight smile. "So…what are we talking about that you didn't want the guys to hear?"

Her hands were digging into the sand busily, and she was biting her lip. She was so anxious. Why? "I…wanted to apologize."

I was taken aback. "To me? For what?" What would she possibly have to apologize to me for? I couldn't think of any reason.

Her hands stopped moving, and slowly, she brought them back in front of her, brushing the sand off of them. She stared down at them. Looking like that, and with the way she was acting so nervously, for the first time to me, she seemed small. She had paused for so many beats that I wasn't sure if she was done talking or not, but then she finally answered. "For being a coward."

Hearing her call herself that, something inside of me throbbed painfully. I leaned forward, frowning at her, my voice serious as I said, "Please don't say that. What makes you think that you're a coward?"

She was still staring at her hands, and she didn't take one glance up at me at all. Just as I was starting to worry, she took a breath and said, "I'm a coward because I've never told you how I feel about you."

That exact moment, I swear my heart stopped. "…What do you mean?" I couldn't say anything else, I couldn't make any other words come out of my mouth. A breeze was starting to pick up, and it had just enough of the bite of winter in it to suddenly make me think of Winter Break. My heart was picking up pace.

"You know…" she trailed off, tucking some of her hair behind her ears as it began to fly into her face. She still didn't look at me. "I can handle the waves as if they're a part of me. I can handle interviews just fine. Being in front of cameras and strangers, fine, whatever, I can deal with it." She stopped again, and suddenly she was looking at me. "So why is it that whenever I'm around you, I'm terrified?" In the distance, the ocean was stirring, waves beginning to roar and curl violently.

And then my heart took a nosedive into my stomach. "You're…scared of me?" I couldn't believe she was opening up to me like this. She'd never spoken to me this way before. But what she was saying was bewildering me. It almost sounded like…but no, she wouldn't. There was no way she would.

Right?

She was looking at me with this look in her eyes…almost like mystification and helplessness at the same time. As if the storm brewing in the sky was reflected in her eyes. "No, I'm not scared of you. I'm scared of the way you make me feel." Her brow was furrowed into almost a frown.

I swallowed. I couldn't move. "How…do I make you feel?" Was this happening? Was this actually happening to me? In my mind, I must have tried to calculate the probability of this hundreds of times. The possibility of finding someone that I loved that would also love me back always seemed so unlikely to me. The likelihood was so low that I never once considered that it would really happen to me. I thought it was almost impossible.

So, how was it possible that it could've been happening right now?

"Like…" she momentarily paused, looking out at the ocean, watching the ferocious waters with a look of serenity. Her voice was quieter when she continued. "Like the first day of school and riding a big wave, all at once. Nervous, terrified, exhilarated," she looked up at me again, her eyes soft and scared. "And like the water in Hawaii. Warm." Her eyes locked with mine. "That's how you make me feel."

I was breathing hard. Suddenly, I was scooting closer to her, my heart screaming and my hands trembling. Instantly, the words I thought I'd always keep a secret deep inside of me left my mouth. "Trish, I'm in love with you." I scooted even closer, and sand was getting into my sneakers, but I didn't care.

Her cheeks flooded pink, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "You love me?" Her mouth was open in disbelief.

"Of course," I said, and instantly I knew that was the truth. Maybe I had always known. My stubborn brain had just kept rationalizing it when there was nothing to rationalize about. It was a fact of the universe. Two plus two equaled four. Spring came after winter, and then came summer, and then autumn. The Earth was the third planet from the Sun. We lived in the Milky Way galaxy, a tiny little speck among countless specks of an even tinier speck of the entire universe. And I was in love with Trish.

That small percentage of probability had come and snuck up on me as I remained oblivious, and maybe a little naïve. I'd been so obsessed with the low likelihood of possibilities that I'd become blind to the possibility right in front of me. There were more exceptions than rules in life, especially with those lucky enough to find love. And somehow, now, I'd become one of the exceptions. Trish had become my exception.

Trish was looking at me in a way I never even imagined. "Why didn't you tell me?" There were tears rolling down her cheeks, her voice was high and breaking and vulnerable, and it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.

Hesitantly, I reached for her hands and held them in mine. Her hands were long fingered, soft, and so lovely. I never thought I'd ever get to touch her, let alone hold her hands. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Unexpectedly, she smiled wistfully, and then she sighed. "Because I'm a coward, remember?" She sniffed, shaking her head slowly. "And I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." I gazed at her, feeling every night I'd ever stayed awake until morning thinking of her crash into this single moment. This moment that I never thought I'd have with her. This moment I would never let go of for as long as I lived. "I'm a coward too," I paused for a moment, a smile growing on my face that I just couldn't seem to help. "We can be cowards together."

Trish looked down at our hands, and then rearranged them so that our fingers were laced together. She looked back up at me from underneath her bangs, staring right into my eyes, and my heart lurched. "Sam Dullard, I really, really like you. You're my favorite boy in the entire world." She smiled, and it was embarrassed, but bright and beaming. "Please go out with me."

My heart was beating so hard inside of me that I was sure she heard it. I was so overwhelmed that I could barely breathe—but part of me realized that whipping out my inhaler would ruin the moment, so I refrained. I leaned toward her ever so carefully, slowly, and kissed her on the cheek gently. "I would never say no to you, Trish. Not in a hundred years." I paused. "I know the phrase usually goes, 'not in a million years', but technically that's scientifically inaccurate, considering the average human lifespan is only—"

And then for the first time, the first of many, Trish cut me off with her lips on top of mine; effectively shutting me up mid-rant in a way no one had before. It was extraordinary.


-Otto's POV-

A knock came at my door. "Yeah?" I called. I clicked 'submit' on a response for a comment on my fan page. Every once in a while, after school, I liked to go there and read fans comments, give them some likes, respond to some of them. They always loved it when I did that. What could I say? I was a real fan pleaser.

The door opened and someone walked in, and then I heard my sister's voice. "Hey, bro. Can I talk with you for a sec?"

I swiveled around, turning away from my desk and looking at her. She rarely came into my room these days, although maybe most of the time she just didn't wanna accidentally walk in on me and Clio. Right now she was hovering near my doorway, and she had the strangest look on her face. I slowly closed my laptop. Something was up. "Sure, Reg. What's up?"

Her fingers were tapping against the wall behind her. "Well…I came to ask you something." She looked like she wanted to come closer, but at the same time, she looked like she didn't.

"Ask me what?" I was starting get weirded out by her hesitation. Why was she acting all wonky? I gestured to my bed. "Come sit down."

Reggie came over and sat on the edge of my bed, and then gave me another weird look.

I sighed hard, rolling my eyes. "Reg, why're you acting so weird? Just come out with it!"

"Okay, okay!" Reggie took a deep breath, probably to calm herself, and then she said it. "Otto…how do you feel about Twister and me?"

Taken by surprise, my eyebrows shot up. Well. No wonder she'd been acting weird. Taking a deep breath myself, I folded my arms. "How do I feel about it? Honestly?"

"Honestly," Reg echoed. "Don't hold back. I'm serious." She did look serious. She also looked kinda nervous, which made me feel a little nervous, too, for some reason.

"Honestly…" I started, leaning back in my desk chair and keeping my arms folded. I frowned, considering very carefully what I was going to say next. I blew out the breath that I was holding with puffed out cheeks. "I'm surprised you guys have taken this long."

She stared at me, shocked. "Wait…" she paused, and she just kept on staring. More than looking shocked, she looked confused. "Really?"

I couldn't help smirking a little bit, and I nodded. "Really," I said simply. "It's time, isn't it? You guys are finally gonna date, aren't you?"

She was shaking her head—not as an answer, it seemed, but in disbelief. "But…aren't you gonna get upset? Throw a huge tantrum? Get all dramatic? Demand that we never hang out with each other ever again?"

I scoffed, holding my hands up in defense. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because," she gestured at me wildly. "You're Otto."

"I may be Otto," I said, leaning forward in my chair, smiling widely and resting my elbows on my knees, "But I'm not an idiot. Did you think I wouldn't notice that my best bud and my sister have had something between them for a while?" I paused, laughing, "Besides, it's not like Twist ever made his feelings for you a secret. Who do you think had to sit and listen to how miserable he was over you, month after month, year after year? Really, it was just a matter of when he finally told you and when you would realize how you felt about him."

She was still looking at me, amazed. "He…talked about me to you?"

"All the time. Constantly. Wouldn't shut up about you," I said. "Every single freaking day."

Reggie took this in, breaking her bewildered stare at me to look down at her own hands bashfully. My God. She was gone. She was so far gone. Over my best friend.

"I mean, it's not that I'm not weirded out by it. I am a little bit," I admitted to her. Then I shrugged. "But it's not my business anyway. And I move on from stuff fast. I'll get over it." I smiled at her.

She looked up at me again, cocking her head to the side and raising an eyebrow. "And it's not like I need your approval, anyway," she stopped. "But before we start anything, I just wanted to know how you felt about it. It has to be weird for you—your best friend, who's practically your brother, and your sister—"

"Yeah, don't remind me," I interrupted, closing my eyes and grimacing. "Like I said, yeah, it's a little weird. But the both of you mean the world to me, and I just want you guys to be happy. Even if that means it's with each other." I took a lengthy pause, opening my eyes again and looking at her grimly. "And I haven't always paid attention to your happiness in the past. Especially with the people you were dating. And for that…I'm sorry."

A few weeks ago, Reg finally confided in me that Trent had cheated on her and had been mentally abusive towards her. When she had told me everything, I thought of every weird feeling I'd had when I'd been around them, and I realized it hadn't just been my imagination. I felt like shit for letting that happen to her right under my nose. Looking back, when she'd been with him, she changed a lot. I should have realized it myself. Some brother I was.

I swore to myself that I would never let that happen to her again, that I would stand up for her next time. I hoped that she'd be with some one that I could trust. And if there was anyone I truly trusted, to the point of trusting him with my whole life, it was Twister.

My sister returned my serious gaze, nodded, and then looked away, blinking hard. "Geez, little bro. You're gonna make me cry."

"Don't cry. You look funny when you cry. I'd laugh and ruin this moment we're having." I nudged her shoe with mine and she smiled. I continued, "Anyway, I'm not worried. You shouldn't be worried, either. Chill out, okay? I know he'll treat you right. That dude's crazy about you. He…loves you. To pieces."

Reggie nodded, smiling to herself. She knew.

"It won't change our crew. It'll probably make it better, actually. Then you guys can stop being all weird and avoiding each other. So go for it, okay? Just get together, already!" I stood up from my chair, came over to the bed and plopped down next to her, pounding my fist with hers. Then I abruptly changed my expression, mock-glaring at her, and I began to threaten, "But if you ever hurt my best friend—"

I couldn't even get the whole joke out before she busted up laughing and punched me in the arm, and I laughed too. When she finally stopped laughing, she smiled at me solemnly. "Did I ever tell you you're the best brother ever?"

"Once or twice, maybe," I said, tipping my aviator sunglasses to rest on the tip of my nose. "But if you want to say it a thousand more times, be my guest."

She rolled her eyes at me, but she still smiled. I smiled back.


-Reggie's POV-

"Reggie!" Tito was calling me from the kitchen. "I have to make an errand run before the market closes. Could you close up for me?"

"Sure, Tito," I called back, stacking all the plates from table three onto my tray. Today had been a busy day at the Shack. I'd started doing more work at the restaurant lately—had to get some more college money saved up somehow—and today my dad had the stomach flu back at home, so it was mostly me and Tito working things today. Saturdays were always swamped, and this one was no exception.

Sammy had managed to help out a little bit earlier, but then Trish came to see him and that help ended rather swiftly as they headed to the movie theater. They were adorable, my God they were, but there were so many customers today that it was like we were drowning in them. But he'd helped out for a little bit at least, and I was thankful for it. Besides, I hadn't had the heart to keep the two new lovers apart. I was so glad that Trish took my advice after all; I'd spent that whole day coaching her and telling her all the reasons why confessing to Sam was worth it. After reassuring her for the 50th time, she'd rushed over to the Shore Shack and found him, and now here they were. They'd gone on at least six dates over the past few weeks—they had a lot to catch up on in terms of getting to know each other, after all—and inseparable, totally adorable. They were like two little shy puppies. I was so happy for the both of them. If I couldn't get my own happy ending, I was glad they could at least.

As I carried the dirty dishes to the back, Tito met me as he was heading out the back door. "Thanks for all your help today, little cuz'. Couldn't have done it without you here." He patted the top of my head. "Take tomorrow off, okay?"

I smiled in relief and gratefulness. Finally, a day off. "Thanks Tito," I said. I called after him as he left the restaurant, "Have a good Sunday!" He turned, waved at me, and then shut the door behind him.

It was completely dark outside, and cool and damp. It had rained earlier. Being early February, it was still wintertime. It felt like it had been winter for forever. But it felt that way every year, the coldest and dreariest season always dragging on and on to no end. I missed being warm. I missed the summer.

I went back to the front again, making sure that there were no more customers left inside, and then grabbing a step stool from behind the counter, I began pulling down all the shutters on the front archways. I'd gotten halfway through when I heard someone walk in. Without looking over my shoulder, I took a breath to tell whoever they were that the Shack was closed—and then they spoke before I could.

"Hello? Tito? You here?" It was Twister's voice.

I jumped off of the stool that I was standing on…well, sort of fell, actually. At least I managed to land on my feet. "Twister!" I exclaimed, and my voice seemed loud in the empty restaurant. I lowered my voice. "Hi."

He turned quickly, rattled, and stared at me for a few moments. Our eyes locked, and then he looked away first, looking at the floor. "Oh, hey. I didn't know you were working today."

Even though he'd looked away, I couldn't peel my eyes off of him. About a week ago, he'd gotten a haircut—an undercut, with the sides and back of his head down to a buzz cut, and the rest on the top was kept long and tangled and pushed back out of his eyes and GOD. It was so hot on him that it made my insides tremble. All week I'd been sneaking glances at it, torturing myself with thoughts of how it would feel to run my hands through it.

After realizing I'd just been standing there staring at him, I made myself speak. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was just closing up." Then something else occurred to me, and I formulated a more helpful response. "If you're looking for Tito, he left about five minutes ago. Do you need help with something?" I sounded so formal, I hated it. I just wanted things between us to be comfortable again.

Twister shook his head, and some of his hair fell into his eyes. My stomach dropped down to the floor. "No, that's okay. I just wanted to talk to him about…" he trailed off, waving his hand and looking embarrassed about whatever it was. "Anyway, I'll just talk to him tomorrow. I'll get out of your way. Night, Reg." He turned to leave.

I took a step after him. "Twist, wait!" He stopped immediately, and I stopped too, shocked at myself for calling after him. But deep down, I knew I needed to. We were alone for the first time in months. I couldn't screw this up. Trish had taken her chances and finally said what she needed to say. It was my turn now. I spoke quieter as I asked, "Can we talk?"

He turned around, putting his hands down deep in the pockets of his hoodie and gazing at me evenly. He wore an expression that I couldn't quite place. "Depends."

I frowned slightly. "On what?"

"On whether it's a good talk or a bad talk." He seemed like he was only half joking.

Letting out a breath, I chuckled a little bit, appreciating the small joke. It helped dissipate some of the tension between us. "Let me just close the rest of these. Sit tight." I backed away and went to each of the rest of the archways and closed their shutters, feeling anxious and jittery.

By the time I had finished and put the step stool away, he was sitting down at one of the tables, watching me patiently. Just like he'd always been with me. Patient.

I went over to the table he sat at and sat across from him, feeling him staring at me but not being able to return his gaze just yet. There had to have been thousands of thoughts swimming around in his mind at that moment. It probably didn't help that I was so nervous, I knew he could tell. He always seemed to know exactly how I was feeling. Somehow that made me even more nervous.

Plus, there was the problem of where to start. What was I supposed to say first? There were so many things I wanted to say, and I didn't know what to start with. And I'd never done this before.

"Reg," Twister spoke up suddenly, and it made me jump. "Is everything okay?"

I looked up at him finally, and when I saw the look of innocent and sweet concern on his face—always caring about me, always concerned, always looking out for me—suddenly, I knew exactly where to start. I took a deep breath. "Everything's okay, I promise. First, I just…wanted to say I'm sorry."

"You're saying sorry to me?" His look of concern was turning into wariness. "Why?"

It was time. Don't back out, now, I told myself. Spit it out. "For avoiding you. And for making you wait for so long." I was staring down at the table again, feeling the guilt plain on my face. "For making you wait for my answer. You've been so patient with me." Without looking up at him, I reached across the table and touched one of his hands. "Thank you."

"You don't have to apologize," he said. His voice was deeper, even deeper than usual, and I wondered what his face looked like right now. "You don't have to thank me, either."

"Yes, I do." I replied. I tightened my grip on his hand. "And I have to thank you for being so caring and wonderful even when I was too blind to pay any attention. When I think of what you might've gone through, especially the past year, I feel so bad. I was dating the world's biggest jackass and you were still so kind to me. I changed so much of myself because of him and you still loved me." I finally looked up at him now, and I felt like I was on the brink of tears. I held them back, though. "So, yes, I do have to thank you."

He was gazing back at me, brown eyes wider than usual, and his face had begun to turn pink. He shook his head. "Thank yourself for making it impossible for me not to love you. Even when you date jackasses." The left side of his face jerked upwards in a half smile, and then it faded quickly from his face. He looked down, turned the hand that I was holding around slowly, and locked our fingers together. His hand engulfed mine. When had it gotten so big? When had he gotten so much taller, in general? I'd always known he was tall, but it was like I'd never really noticed until recently. Or maybe I'd just forgotten. Or maybe I'd forced myself not to notice. My throat went dry. He continued, quieter, "So that's your answer, then. You wanted to thank me." He looked like he was fighting hard to keep his face composed.

Realizing what he meant, I gasped. "No, no!" I was shaking my head fervently. "No, that's not my answer. I just wanted to say that first."

Twister sat up a little straighter. "Oh," he said, pausing. "Sorry. Go ahead."

Suddenly feeling paralyzed, I stared down at our hands in the middle of the table. Wrapped up together. His thumb gently massaging mine. Just like the night he told me he loved me. The way I'd thought of it happening a million different times. My skin felt electrified.

I continued. "Twister…I've thought this conversation over at least a hundred times in my head. I've even had dreams about it. I planned out everything that I thought I'd say, down to every last word. I thought I'd know exactly what to say, and how to say it, in the moment. Turns out I don't." A wry smile spread on my face. "But I am a writer for a reason, you know. I have so many thoughts about things that never come out right when I say them out loud. I've never been that good at speaking when it really mattered. Not like you. Lately."

Back when we were kids, he'd say really dumb stuff most of the time. Now, he could be really insightful when he wanted to be, and he could say the most amazing things sometimes. There were times when he left me in awe.

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not that good at that, except when it comes to you. But you're great at encouraging people."

I shrugged. "Yeah, but when it comes to my own feelings, I can't do it. It's hard for me to talk about them, and it's hard for me to be honest about how I feel." I took another deep breath and blew it out. "Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to get at is…a few times, I considered writing you a letter. That way, I could say everything that I was thinking and not sound like an idiot. But then I realized, one: it's not the nineteenth century. And two: I was making it more complicated than it needed to be. It doesn't have to be complicated at all. And it isn't. I just…" I smacked my free hand to my forehead, closing my eyes. God, I sounded like a crazy person. Maybe I should have written the letter. My face was burning.

I felt Twister move, and when I opened my eyes reluctantly to look at him, I saw him scooting his chair around the table, moving it closer to me. He still held my hand tightly. He was much closer than before, and when he spoke, I felt his breath on my face. Warm and minty. "Hey, it's okay, Reg. Don't be embarrassed. I'm listening."

The sound of his tender voice so close had me abruptly standing up, dropping his hand and walking to the counter. My voice began to rise with my frustration. "I am embarrassed, though. I'm really embarrassed." I lifted my heavy, curly mass of hair away from my neck. Why was it suddenly scorching hot? My pulse was fast and I felt like the world was tilting.

Twister stood up too, taking a few steps toward me but stopping just short of following me all the way, frowning. He looked confused. "Why?"

I leaned back against the counter, feeling the edge of it against my back. I dropped my ponytail and let my hands fall at my sides heavily. Now my voice had risen to a shout. "Because all of this time, I've been such a moron! I'm so frustrated at myself, I've been so—" I felt myself losing control. All of my emotions were welling up inside me, growing and overflowing and I suddenly felt like I was gonna cry. And suddenly, uncontrollably, it all spilled out of me with the force of a tidal wave crashing over a sea wall. "I can't believe I lied to myself for so long. I can't believe I ever fooled myself into thinking that I wasn't in love with you." The tears were coming out now, and there was no stopping them. "I can't believe I've wasted so much time."

He flew to me and unexpectedly he was right in front of me, staggering height and his hands at either side of me on the counter top, chest heaving, his face close to mine. "Reggie?"

I felt like I couldn't breathe. I struggled to speak as I began to sob. My voice was high, frantic. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I should have realized it forever ago. I'm so sorry."

Twister was shaking. He brought his hands to my face, wiping my tears. As I blinked more tears from my vision, I saw his face. Open and raw emotion was all over it, his eyes brimming with his own tears. "Reggie, oh my God. Reggie." He held my face again, strong but soft and loving and adoring. "Mi cielo."

"You've always been here. You've always been in my life. I don't know when I started feeling this way. But it feels like I have for a long time." I'd begun shaking too. I was crying so hard I could barely get words out. "I think I was scared of how strongly I feel about you. It still scares me. I've never felt this way. Not even with him." I didn't dare speak his name in this moment. He didn't matter now, anyway. He didn't matter anymore. "You know how much I like to be in control. My feelings for you have never been something I could control. It scares me."

He let go of my face and wrapped his arms around me tightly, bending down to bury his face into the crook of my neck. "I understand. It scares me too."

Now that I was positive that I wasn't going to collapse onto the floor, I detached my hands from the edge of the counter top. I reached up with one, smoothing over his hair the way I'd been craving to do. My heart was still pounding. "But I know it only scares me because it's real. It wouldn't terrify me if this wasn't the real thing. Maurice," his real name rarely ever left my lips, but it felt right to use now. Twister was my friend, one of the guys, my brother's best friend. Maurice was the man I loved. Maurice was my soul mate. "We can't waste any more time. We've lost too many years being too afraid to do anything. This is it now. We can't afford to lose any more time to fear."

"I know. I know. We won't. I promise you." Maurice said, his voice right next to my ear, and then he came up again, his face right in front of mine. His eyes locked right onto mine, and the way he was looking at me made all of the air leave my lungs. Tears were rolling down his flushed, freckled cheeks. He was so beautiful. "God, I can't believe this is happening. I love you so much, Reg. I love you."

This time I wiped his tears, gently moving my thumbs across his face. I'd never touched his face before. Not like this. It was soft. "And I love you," I whispered. It was amazing how good it felt to say that to him. It felt like the words had just been locked up inside of me all this time, waiting to be used for him, and just him. I'd never meant them like this before. They weren't an obligation. They weren't an expectation. They were just truth.

From this moment, nothing would be exactly the same anymore, but I was ready. I was more than ready for this.

He groaned under his breath, his eyelids fluttered, and then he grinned in a cute flustered way. "I think I'm gonna pass out." It was so unexpected and adorable and so Twister that I had to laugh.

"Don't pass out, please." I said, smiling. "If you pass out, I won't be able to do this." Completely unable to control myself, I grabbed his collar hard, pulled his lips down to mine, and finally, finally, kissed Maurice Rodriguez on the lips for the very first time. Not even seconds later, my brain caught up to the rest of me, and I pulled away, bewildered.

Maurice was standing very still, looking astonished and lost, his mouth gone slack. "Whoa," he said.

"Oh my God." I let out an embarrassed-sounding giggle, waving a hand in front of his face. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just…holy shit." He brought up one of his hands to pull on his own hair in shock. "Holy shit. Reggie. You just kissed me. I can't believe you just did that. Holy shit."

"I couldn't help myself, I'm sorry." I was still giggling and I covered my face with my hands. Our first kiss had just been totally ruined because I couldn't contain myself. Nice going, self. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that. I just…I've been waiting so long, and—" I felt him lean in close again, his cologne invading me, and I dropped both of my hands, suddenly not embarrassed anymore.

"That is definitely not something you need to apologize for, Reg. Really." He grinned at me slyly. "And I really don't think I'd mind if you did it again." His face was still red, as it had been this entire time, but there was the smallest sparkle of mischievousness in his eyes that made my mouth go dry in about two seconds.

With a purposeful slowness, I took the front of his hoodie into both of my hands again, keeping my eyes locked with his, and I lifted up onto my tip toes. I leaned up toward him as he leaned down toward me, his hands resting lightly on my hips. My skin felt like it was going to burn off. We leaned closer, closer, and…

My phone rang. We both groaned loudly, pulling away. What was it now? Aggravated, I yanked my phone out from my back pocket, recognizing the ringtone.

"Is it important?" Maurice asked, palpable disappointment on his face.

"It's Otto."

Gently, he took the phone from my hand, pressing 'Talk' and answering it himself. "What do you want, Otto?" He snapped at his best friend by way of greeting, leaning against the counter top. "Yes, you did interrupt something. Flawless timing, bro."

I laughed and then covered my mouth with my hand. He looked over at me sidelong as my brother responded on the other end of the line, lifting his eyebrows at me dryly as he listened, and my heart jumped. God, he was so hot. After a few uh-huh's and all right's, he hung up, placing my phone on the countertop next to me. "What'd he want?" I asked.

"He said that Raymundo's throwing up again, and he needs you to pick up some more sports drinks and bread." He looked at me softly. "Sounds like a nasty stomach bug."

My stomach pinched at the thought of my dad. He'd been in bad shape that morning, and it seemed like he was still pretty ill. "Yeah," I said. Then I sighed, looking up at him. "I'd better go, then. Otto doesn't really know how to take care of sick people. I don't know what I was thinking leaving him there with Dad."

"Want me to come with you?" He reached up and lightly traced a finger across my forehead, brushing some hair away from my face, and goosebumps rose up on my skin. "I could play nurse for a while with you guys."

I shook my head, unyielding, grabbing his hand in mine and frowning at him. "Hell no. I'm not letting you get sick, too. No way. Not happening."

Maurice smiled hugely and goofily. He clearly enjoyed that I was concerned over him. He groaned then, leaning down over me again. "But what am I supposed to do, here? After all of this I can't say goodnight to you yet." He sighed. "I can't wait to kiss my girlfriend again." He paused, pointing at me. "That's you."

I laughed again. I couldn't stop laughing and smiling. My cheeks hurt, but I still couldn't stop. I was so happy that my head felt like it was floating. "Yeah, I figured." I answered. God, he was cute. And sexy. He was everything all at the same time. "You know, since you're my boyfriend, and everything."

"Then let me at least go to the grocery store with you. And then I'll walk you home," he said, biting his lip and looking shy. "Since that's what boyfriends do, and all."

Now I was the shy one. Twister was my boyfriend. I couldn't believe it. "Well, okay. If you insist." Smirking, I reached back and pulled out the car keys that were in my other back pocket. "But I drove the Woodie today, so I'll probably walk you home."

We left in the car, dropped by the market to get what I needed to get for Raymundo, and then drove home together, holding hands the entire time. After walking across the cul-de-sac with him, and climbing all of the steps with him to his front door, we said goodnight—with a hug. Somehow I'd lost all of the nerve I'd gotten earlier; we were both still flustered over everything that had happened, and I was in a hurry, so we decided a tight hug and a promise to call was enough for now.

After helping Otto out with Dad, and getting him everything he needed, I escaped to my room, taking out my phone and going straight into my Contacts.

Biting my lip with barely restrained excitement and giddiness, I scrolled down to 'Twister', and went to 'Edit Contact'. Backspacing his name, I typed there instead, simply, 'Maurice'. Somehow, that action alone felt so weighty and intense. It felt like my entire life had changed in just one night. Because it kinda had.

I stared at it for a long time, trying to calm all of the raging butterflies in my stomach, and then finally, I hit 'Call'.

It rang only once. "Hi," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice.

I smiled back. Maybe he could hear mine, too. "Hi."


Woohoo! About time!

Wow. Only two chapters left, folks! It's hard to believe it's coming up so fast.

Please Review! Thanks so much guys, I really appreciate it!

-MsButterFingers