Thanks for the reviews!

Guest: Before I answer your question, I just have to ask: "wondering...ment"? Are you trying to kill me? That line was hilarious! I loved Ross in the early seasons! He was so awkward and dorky and awesome!
Now, to actually answer the question: It's a bit of a character thing I'm going for (though, I'm not so sure that I'm very good at it). You see, since "she" is me, it can be difficult for me to explain "her" actions since I'm so used to "her" personality. To me, it's just normal, but I'll do my best to explain the struggle "she" has with the thought of breaking up with someone.
"She" is the kind of person who is so darn socially awkward that "she" struggles to even talk to people in general. She's mostly fine when it comes to chatting with Monica and Chandler since she's known them a while, but when it comes to newer people in her life (such as Joey), "she" can struggle to just say a simple greeting. Therefore, having a serious conversation (such as a breakup) would be about the worst thing imaginable to "her".
I hope that clears things up.
(It's amazing how much easier it is to tell people stuff about myself when I refer to myself as "she".)

Hey! We're up to ten chapters now! Yay! I feel like I've actually accomplished something now!

I love exclamation points! (And exclamation marks! It's interchangeable!)

I was really hoping the day could go slower than this. We're already in history class, and I feel like the day just started. Maybe, if I'm lucky, Joey will be absent again. Yeah, maybe, he'll be absent so he can cheat on me with that Kathy girl.

I guess it's a little weird that I now want him to cheat on me. I really am insane, aren't I?

Well, looks like my prayers are going unheard today. Here comes Joey. In through the door, over to his desk. He waves to me on the way, giving me a guilty smile. He sits down.

And then he's speaking to me. "Sorry for canceling the date," are the first words out of his mouth. Why does he have to talk to me? Do I look like I want to chat? Chandler and Monica aren't talking to me. They can take a hint.

Although, the only hint I'm really supplying Joey with is my distraught look and the fact that I'm not making eye-contact with him. But I never make eye-contact with anybody. It's nothing new!

I mumble a semi-rude "whatever" and rest my head in my hands. When will this lesson be over? It feels like we've been here for hours, and the class hasn't even started yet. Jeez. Mere seconds ago, I was hoping for the day to go by slower. I feel a bit like Goldilocks at the moment. Well, not really.

Joey gives me a concerned look. "Are you okay?" he asks in a soft voice laced with a tinge of guilt.

Well, at least he feels bad about it. Of course, that still doesn't make up for what he's done, but it makes me hate him a little less. "Fine," I mutter. I sigh, then sit up to face him. "Actually, I'm not fine. I think we, uh . . . We need to talk." A worried expression crosses his features. He seems to relax a bit when the bell rings, signaling the beginning of class. Before the teacher starts the day's lesson, I quickly add, "After school—your dorm." Joey nods in agreement.

So, it's set. Knowing what's to come this afternoon—knowing that we're actually going to have this conversation in a matter of mere hours—my nervousness only seems to grow.

And I'm back to wishing for a slower day.

. . .

Joey and I skip the daily "ritual" of going to Central Perk after school and head right to his dorm. As we walk, I'm finding it progressively harder to breathe with the growing knot in my stomach and lump in my throat. It's like my body is trying to kill me—as if that's the only way out of this mess. Yup, dying is a great solution.

Before I know it, we're situated in Joey's dorm, sitting on his couch, each of us waiting for the other to start the conversation. I know I should—given, it was my idea for us to come here—but I just can't seem to bring myself to form words. Finally, Joey gives up waiting for me, and he speaks.

"So . . . what did you want to talk about?"

Well, it's a start.

"I, um . . ." I clear my throat and begin again. "I . . ." Not much success the second time either. Third time's the charm? "We need to talk."

Well, that was about the most pointless statement I've ever made. Especially considering I already said that. I just didn't know what else to say. I mean, how do I start this kind of conversation? "Hey, Joey. I think you're cheating on me. Are you?" Is that what I'm supposed to say? I don't know if I can say such words. It's so . . . forward. I'm definitely not forward.

But maybe that's exactly what I need to be.

"Hey . . . Joey?" I begin timidly.

"Yeah?"

I let out a shaky sigh. I just need to come out and say it. It'll be easier that way. "Look, Joey . . . Chandler told me that you're seeing this Kathy girl, but I thought you were with me . . . so, could you explain to me what's going on here? Are you cheating on me or something?" There are a few small stutters and slight instances of my voice trembling as I speak the words; but, overall, I sound fairly confident, and I'm proud of that.

And now Joey's the one sighing. "I was afraid this would come up. When you asked me out, I completely forgot that I had told Chandler about Kathy. I didn't remember until this morning."

"And . . . ?" I push.

"And . . . I'm really, really sorry," he apologizes. It's weird, but I believe him. He does sound pretty sorry. "But I'm sure that doesn't change what I did."

Jeez. I wasn't expecting this side of him. I mean, I know I just met him and everything, but I couldn't picture him before this very moment sounding so . . . mature. Or regretful. I'm almost finding it hard to be mad at him. Almost.

"Yeah, well, you're right in that statement," I say bitterly. "It really doesn't change a thing."

I wasn't expecting this side of myself. I'm being rude and bitter, and I'm barely even stuttering!

"So, what does this mean?" he asks reluctantly. "Do you . . . want to break up?" There's a clear awkwardness to the question that I fully understand. It's hard to say that we could break up considering we're barely even together. I just met him, and we haven't even gone on any dates yet. Plus, there's that whole thing he doesn't know—the thing about how I never wanted to be with him in the first place.

I know I'm being surprisingly casual about this when I shrug before replying. "I guess."

A long, uncomfortable silence fills the room. A minute passes. Two. By this point, I feel like just sitting here is driving me bonkers. I need to speak up now or else I might just go full-blown insane.

"Well, um . . . See you in school?" I groan inwardly at how lame it sounds, but I'll do anything right now just to get out of here.

"Yeah," he mumbles. "See ya'."

I stand up abruptly, no longer even attempting to look calm or normal. I force my wobbly legs to carry me out of Joey's dorm. I wander through the halls until I find my own abode. I unlock the door. My hand reaches for the doorknob, but I freeze right before my fingers make contact with the shiny metal. What if Monica's in there? She'll want to know how the confrontation went. She'll probably want to hear every little detail. Am I really in the mood to provide every little detail? Plus, what details are there to provide? I confronted him, he admitted to his mistake, and we ended it. That's all.

I shake my head vigorously to release these thoughts. I'm just acting crazy. I'm sure that if I tell Monica I don't want to talk about it, she'll understand.

I slowly turn the doorknob and throw the door open wide. The sight I find on the other side shocks me like an electrocution—without the death part, of course. Mere feet in front of me stand my two best friends. Monica's hands cling to Chandler's jacket, whereas his hands are positioned on her sides, as they press their lips together in a kiss.

I stand completely frozen in shock.

Well, at least this day wasn't too bad for everybody.

I felt bad because I hadn't included any Mondler at all in quite a while. Well, Mondler's back!

I have a feeling the next chapter will be fun to write. You just gotta love Mondler.

I just realized that I've never really written any Mondler before. Now, I'm kind of nervous. I don't want to mess this up. Mondler is such a perfect concept, and I'm gonna screw it up! I just know I will!

Well, wish me luck, guys. I'm off to write some Mondler!

Let's see how many more times I can write the word "Mondler" in this author's note.

On a mildly related subject, I noticed that I managed to write the word "mere" three times in this chapter.