Forsaken: having been abandoned
There was a time when she wondered what it would be like to have a man pursue her, and now it had happened. She felt fireworks in her stomach when he asked her on a date. She felt sweat on the inside of her palms when he reached to hold her hand for the first time, and she walked with a smile on her face for days. But what did it really mean?
Amy brushed her hair before she was to meet Barry and the others for the movies. She enjoyed the silence of her apartment, but sometimes it was too much to take. Tonight was one of those nights. There was so much she was questioning, and the apartment knew it. It continued to drive away visitors and interruptions to force her to look at what she had been too terrified to look at before.
Was she dating Barry because she was in love? Or simply because he was the first man that had ever shown any interest in her? She cursed herself for having no answers. And she cursed the apartment for failing to give her one goddamn moment of peace.
But that all had to be put on the back burner now. She was about to go to the movies with her friends and the man she'd spent thirty-two years waiting for. It was going to be a fabulous night.
"You can't park here. It's a tow-away zone," Sheldon said matter-of-factly.
"No, that's the tow-away zone. This is a parking space. And it's right next to the theater, so I'm not moving."
"Leonard, your front right tire is clearly touching the bright red line of the tow-away zone. Thus, you are in the tow-away zone. You might as well kiss this car goodbye."
"Are you really going to miss the new Superman movie because I'm touching a stupid red line?"
Sheldon sat in thought.
"You've been talking about this movie since you found out they were making it," Leonard continued.
"You're right," Sheldon said quickly, and reached for the door handle. "It's not my car."
But as he fumbled with the door, he saw something most peculiar. It looked like Amy and Barry holding hands and walking towards the theater. His theater. The theater that was about to play the movie he'd been waiting forever to see.
"Leonard," he said before stepping out of the car. "Is that Barry Kripke and Amy Farrah Fowler?"
Leonard hung his head. "Yeah," he sighed. "They're joining us tonight." He put his jacket on and mumbled to himself.
Sheldon paused for a moment to digest the situation and then sat back in his seat and closed the car door behind him.
"What are you doing? The movie starts in ten minutes."
"I'm not going."
"Why? Just because Kripke's here? Don't let him ruin your night."
But Sheldon had nothing more to say. Leonard closed his door and left Sheldon in the car like a dog that refused to set foot in the vet's office. At least it was warm outside.
"Hey thewe, Coopew. What are you doing in the caw? Movie stawts any minute," Kripke said while approaching the car—Amy dangling sweetly from his arm.
Sheldon looked up to see the invader. "Not going," he whispered.
"You sure? Supposed to be a heww of a fwick."
"Please go away," Sheldon said and rolled his window up.
"Okay, see you water, buddy," Barry said and waved goodbye. He was desperately trying to be nice to Sheldon for Amy's sake. He wanted to be her everything, and at this particular moment, he knew he was on his way because she was smiling at him. Smiling at him the way she used to.
"Do you mind if I talk to him for a minute?" Amy whispered. Barry was reluctant to leave her alone with another man, but then he remembered that it wasn't a man. It was Sheldon. He kissed her hand and left towards the theater to get tickets before they were sold out.
Amy tapped on the glass to get Sheldon's attention. He glanced in her direction but refused to open the window.
"Well, I'm sure you can hear me," Amy started and leaned closer to the glass, "So, I want to tell you that I had a long talk with Barry. He won't be cruel to you anymore."
"I don't need you to fight my battles," she heard Sheldon mumble from inside the car.
"I don't think that I'm fighting anyone's battle. I think that I am giving justice where justice is due. You don't deserve to be treated the way he has treated you in the past. The same goes for Leonard, Howard and Raj."
"So, you'd do this for any of us?"
"Of course. I consider you all of you to be my friends now."
She waited for Sheldon to respond, but his stare never left the front window. Apparently, there was nothing left to say. Amy waited a second more to see if things would change, but they didn't and she forced herself to smile and walk towards the theater.
"You want anything? I'm wunning to get a pwetzel," Barry whispered to Amy while the movie boomed in the background.
"No, thank you. Are you sure you want to go now? The lines looked pretty long when we came in. You'll miss half the movie."
"I know, but I'm stawving," Barry said and cradled his stomach.
"Okay, but hurry back. I'll miss you," Amy whispered with a sweet smile.
"I'ww miss you more."
In a blink of an eye, Barry was gone and she was left alone with her thoughts again. She couldn't blame it on her apartment this time. And although the movie was doing its best to distract her, its best simply was not good enough. She couldn't stop thinking of Sheldon.
He obviously wanted to see this movie. He came all the way here to see this movie, and then suddenly decided it wasn't to his liking? She couldn't help but feel that his absence was related to her. Amy wasn't one to jump to conclusions, especially conclusions that involved a man changing his plans simply on account of her presence. But was she wrong?
That was the true question. Was she wrong about Sheldon Cooper? Was she wrong about his motives, his flaws, his desires? She could ask the question any way she liked, but the truth was—only Sheldon could answer it.
It was surprising to her that in less than one hour, the temperature could drop so drastically. She buttoned the top button of her cardigan and walked to the parking spot where she knew she'd find Sheldon. She desperately chased her thoughts and emotions, trying to line them up neatly before speaking to him, but it was no use. She didn't know what she wanted to say and she didn't know why she felt the urge to say it. But something needed to be said.
She peeked into the window to see Sheldon gripping his thin windbreaker in an attempt to keep warm. She tapped on the window gently.
And this time he rolled down the window.
"Hi," she said. "I feel like we keep misunderstanding each other. Did I do something to upset you?"
But Sheldon simply looked at her with the eyes of a man who had built his emotional walls high enough to keep out any invader foolish enough to attempt to climb them.
"It just seems like," she continued, "you don't like me. And I don't know why."
"I don't dislike you, Amy Farrah Fowler," he said.
"Then what is it? I mean, I feel like I've been perfectly nice to you, and you can't go so far as to say hello to me without an attitude." She stopped herself from getting too upset. This was a man she barely knew after all. It wasn't worth fighting over. "I know that you and Barry have had your problems in the past, but does that really mean that you and I can't even be civil towards each other?"
Sheldon wasn't prepared to say what he was about to say, but controlling these kinds of emotions was new to him. He never could have anticipated the magnitude of their power.
"My problem is simple. Kripke is my mortal enemy. That makes you an accomplice to my mortal enemy, but that has nothing to do with our civility or lack thereof. Your problem is the cause of all of this."
Amy instantly became defensive. Was this socially crippled, arrogant physicist really attempting to psychoanalyze her?
"Excuse me?"
"It's simple," Sheldon started. "You have no respect for anything in your life."
"You don't even know me," she said with a slightly raised voice.
"I've seen enough to know that you don't respect yourself."
"And how do you know that?"
"You let Kripke treat you the same way he treats me, Leonard and all the others. You let him disrespect you time and time again, and yet you feel the need to fight for US to be treated better. But you can't fight for yourself. You're weak, Amy Farrah Fowler."
"You have no right to say that. You're the biggest ass I've ever met, and you're lecturing me about how I treat people and allow people to treat me? You have a lot of nerve."
He simmered over her words, knowing fully that he wasn't saying what he truly wanted to say. "Can I ask you a question?" he finally whispered.
"I don't think you deserve to, but since I'm a nice person, I'll let you have one question."
"Are you happy?"
Amy felt as if she'd been hit by a bus. Of all the questions he could ask, he asked that? The very question she'd avoided at all costs. Her eyes began to fill with tears, but there was no way in hell that she was going to let him see her cry.
"I'm very happy," she whispered.
Whatever he lacked in social tact and emotional detection simply didn't matter now. He knew she was lying. Lying like she had been since they met.
"I'll see you at work tomorrow," Amy finally said when she realized that Sheldon wasn't going to respond. "And I won't worry about continuing this bizarre friendship with you. I won't treat last night like it was anything but commonplace. And I will happily enjoy the company of your mortal enemy, Barry Kripke, who just happens to be the best boyfriend I've ever had."
"Bizarre friendship?" Sheldon asked while opening the car door and stepping out. "We are not friends. Nor will we ever be. You think that because we shared a silent car ride that we're friends? You think that because Seibert gave us some ridiculous assignment that we're friends? You think that because we texted one another during the night that we're friends? Well, you're wrong, Amy. We're not friends."
For some bizarre reason, all of his words faded away when she heard him talk of the texting. "You texted me back?" she asked.
But what she didn't know was that he had texted her back, over and over again. But he never sent them.
"I won't be at work tomorrow," he continued.
"Why?" She felt her heart pounding faster. With anger, frustration, excitement, infatuation? She didn't know.
"I will be filling out that resignation form."
"I see," Amy said softly. She couldn't explain why those words seemed to melt straight into her bones. She'd probably never see him again. Was that a bad thing?
She turned and began to walk towards the theater entrance. Barry would be on his way back with his pretzel, and she wanted to be in her seat before he returned.
"And, Amy," Sheldon called.
"Yes?"
"I owe you a genuine apology."
Amy turned towards him. "Why?"
"I called you the accomplice of my mortal enemy. I apologize for that because it implies that I harbor some sort of resentment towards you." He paused. "And that's not true."
Amy let out a simple sigh of relief, but the look on Sheldon's face told her that maybe it was premature.
"The truth is—you mean nothing to me."
Amy pulled her cardigan close and desperately tried to hide the small part of her heart that had just died. She turned and walked towards the entrance only to find that the jumbo screen showed no mercy towards her, flashing its brightest light on every tear that streamed down her face.
I promise that things will get better for the Shamy :)
