Ugh. So I suck. It's been about a month. But here I am, bearing a new update, so don't hate me.

LTJM - Thank you for reading and reviewing! Thanks for the compliments, and I'm glad you enjoyed it, and that you thought Mark was cute! Enjoy this next update! :)

Peachy65 - Thanks for reviewing! Fortunately we won't be seeing too much of Terry from now on. xD Hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Mandamirra10 - Thanks for reviewing! I agree, I'd have kicked Terry to the curb. And chances are, you're right about Mark. :) I hope you enjoy the next update!


After what became infamously known as "The Terry Incident", I started to realize something highly depressing about myself: I basically had no friends. When I'd met Terry, I'd somehow lost contact with most of the girls who I was friends with in high school, probably because being friends with someone like Terry required most of my time.

So I called Wade. Surprisingly enough, he was almost always willing to go for a cup of coffee with me, or just hang around. I still didn't have a job, and after begging and pleading (and lying through my teeth about not being able to find anything for work), my parents agreed to pay my bills for another three months. The deal was that in January, I'd have to either have found myself a job, or be brave enough to move back in with them. Something told me that I was not nearly brave enough.

"You might as well just move back," Wade told me jokingly, laughing to himself as we sat in the garage, me perched on an overturned bucket and Wade leaning against the wall, taping his stick meticulously. "I mean, you're spending more time here than you did when you were in high school."

I threw a piece of discarded tape at him. "Thanks so much," I said. "I don't talk to you guys for a while, and you tell me that I'm avoiding you, but when I decide to make an appearance, you tell me I'm spending too much time here."

Wade grinned. "I guess we're just really hard to please."

"Tell me about it."

Wade pushed himself off of the wall, searching around the garage for his tennis ball. "Don't you have, y'know, a boyfriend or something? What ever happened with Mark Johnson?"

I smiled to myself. Wade made a bit of a point out of asking about Mark whenever he got an opportunity. I noticed that Wade had taped big pieces of cardboard to his makeshift net, using the little technique that Mark had told him about. "I don't know," I said, leaning forward. "I haven't talked to him since what happened with Terry." I felt bad about it. It had been four days since Mark had driven me home from the hospital, and a part of me wanted to call him, but for some reason, I just couldn't.

"Why would you be avoiding him?" Wade asked, rifling through one of the boxes stacked against the wall. "He didn't do anything wrong, did he? If anything I'd imagine that you would be especially appreciative towards him."

I held up a hand. "That was a little bit too creepy, thanks," I told him, shaking my head, and Wade laughed. "No, it's just that... Terry made an interesting point when we were fighting. She told me that he wasn't going to care about me when he goes back to Wisconsin, and I'm starting to see how that could be true."

Wade frowned, shaking his head as he completely overturned the box impatiently. "I don't get it. He could have just told you, 'Forget it, I don't want this much drama in my life,' and disappeared, but he didn't. Doesn't that tell you anything about him?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"I don't either," Wade said absently, poking through the mess he'd made on the floor. He straightened up, and sat down on a bucket next to mine. "You should call him, though. There's no way that you'll ever know if you were right about him if you don't, right?"

I gave Wade a long look. "Right, I guess," I said. "I don't understand you sometimes, you know that?"

He looked up. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

"I don't know," I said, shrugging. "I mean, you're so smart about stuff like this, you know, and giving me advice, but..." I left the sentence, hoping he'd catch the meaning I was throwing out.

Wade sighed. "I guess I'm just better at some stuff than I am at others. I'd rather help you with your silly little problems than do homework." He paused, thinking. "And that's definitely saying something."

I laughed, hitting him lightly in the shoulder. "Shut up." I got to my feet slowly. "I should probably be getting back. You know, making some phone calls."

"Good," Wade laughed. "You let me know how that goes, alright?"

"I will. Talk to you later, Wade, okay?"

"Yup. See you."

I drove home, deep in thought. Wade was right. Of course he was. I was being so ridiculous. Terry had said the things that she'd said because she was trying to hurt me, and it was my fault for letting it get to me the way that it did. I didn't know Mark well enough to know if he was using me or not, and from what I'd seen of him, I had a feeling that he wasn't.

As soon as I got home, I grabbed the phone, dialling Mark's number. The phone rang and rang, but no one picked up. I set the phone down, an awful feeling creeping into my stomach. What if Mark had given up on me, decided that I was too much drama and more work than he was willing to put in? Trying not to panic, I found the envelope where Mac's number was written and dialled that number. This time, someone picked up.

"Hello?" I could hardly hear whoever it was over the sound of other people talking in the background.

"Hello? Mac?"

"No, baby. OC. How can I help you?" There were sounds of people jeering loudly in the background.

OC. I tried to remember who OC was. "Is Mac there, Jack?" I asked, remembering who he was suddenly.

"Uh, yeah, he should be around here somewhere, baby. Who am I talking to, again?"

"Victoria," I told him. "Vic."

"Oh—hey! Vic! What's happening with you, baby? Johnson's been on pins and needles waiting for you to give him a call."

"Has he?" I asked, wondering if I'd heard him wrong.

"For sure. He's been wicked upset that you didn't call, so he decided to give you some space. It's a damn shame, since today's his birthday and we're having people over here tonight."

Mark's birthday. Oh, wow. "It's his birthday? Is Mark there, Jack?"

"Uh... Yeah, he was. I don't see him anywhere now, though. I think he left a little while ago with some chick."

I didn't say anything.

"You still there, Vic? I was just kidding!"

"Jack," I said impatiently. "Is Mark there?"

"I wasn't kidding when I said that he's not here anymore. I think him and Baker went to get some more beer or something. You should make an appearance here, though, Vic. I think that would make the birthday boy's night. I think he really wanted to call you today but he thought you wouldn't want to talk. Are you mad at him?"

"No, I'm not," I said. "Look, I'll be over there in about a half an hour, okay? If Mark comes back, please tell him that I'm coming, Jack, alright?"

"You got it, baby. I'll see you in a bit!"

I wasn't completely sure what I was planning on doing once I got to Mac's apartment, but I knew that if I stuck around at my place all night while I knew Mark was going to be mingling with little female hockey "fans", I would lose my mind entirely. I hopped in my car and drove over there, my mind racing.

There were a bunch of cars parked outside the apartment building where Mark lived, and as I tried to find a parking spot, I saw Mark's car driving around back. Eyes wide, I parked my car and ran after them.

Mark pulled into a spot and he and Bill Baker started walking towards the door, armed with several cases of beer. Baker noticed me first, standing in the shadow of the building and probably looking highly suspicious.

"Who's that?" he asked loudly, and Mark turned to look. Wondering why the hell I was hiding in the first place, I stepped out into the light.

"Vic?" Mark set the beer down on the front step and started tentatively towards me. "What are you doing here?"

I shrugged. "I called and OC told me that you guys were having people over, so I thought..." I let the sentence trail off, watching Baker over Mark's shoulder as he hoisted the extra beer and struggled to get inside to give us privacy. I looked abruptly back into Mark's face. "Look, Mark... I'm sorry I didn't call."

Mark tilted his head to the side. "It's okay. I mean, I wondered why, but I'm not upset, or anything. Was it something I did?"

I shook my head so hard that my neck cracked. "No, Mark. It wasn't anything like that. It's just... I..." I couldn't explain it without sounding like a huge bitch.

He gave me a patient look. "It's okay," he repeated. "If you just wanted to be friends, it's okay."

"No!" I said so loudly that Mark jumped. "That isn't what I want at all, Mark, I swear. I really just want you to... You're... I think that we..." I couldn't piece together a coherent sentence to save my soul. Mark continued to watch me with the same, unwearied expression on his face.

I stopped babbling and stood there for a moment, staring at Mark, trying to figure out the one, perfect thing to say, that one gem that was a combination of cleverness and romanticism, that would let him know that I didn't just want to be his friend. That was the last thing in the whole world that I wanted. But the longer I stood there staring at him, the more it dawned on me that that gem wasn't going to come to me.

Sometimes words fail us. There are times when we can't get across the things that we're feeling because words would cheapen it. I guess that's why people say that actions speak louder than words.

I took a step forward and took Mark's hands in mine, looking up into his face to where his expression had changed to slight confusion. I opened my mouth, prepared to let whatever was there fly out spontaneously. "No." I said simply and inexplicably. Then, to both cover up the bewildered look on Mark's face and to correct the awful moment I'd created, I kissed him, and I think that got the message across far better than anything I'd said. Mark put his hands on the small of my back and pulled me tightly to him.

We pulled apart, and I nuzzled into his neck, enjoying the feeling of his arms around me. "Happy birthday, Mark," I told him. "I don't ever want to be your friend."

Mark laughed, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Great. I don't want to be yours, either. Do you want to go inside?"

I nodded, and he led me by the hand into Mac's apartment.

"Hey—Johnson, where the hell did you go, brother?" I heard OC yell as we walked back inside. There weren't as many people there as I'd thought there would have been. In fact, there were only about fifteen people there. OC made his way towards us. "Vic!" he said, clapping me on the back as if we'd known each other for years. "Glad to see you here, baby."

"Vic? Who just said Vic? Is she here?" Bah stood up abruptly from a chair in front of the television. He spotted us and made his way over, thrusting a drink into my hand. "It's not beer, don't worry," he said reassuringly.

I took a small sip, my face screwing up at how strong it was.

"So are you two here together? You know... together?" Bah asked, leaning in our direction.

Mark and I exchanged a glance. "Yeah," Mark said before I could answer. "We're here together."

"As a couple?" I didn't see who had said that, but I looked tentatively up at Mark. He grinned at me, and then nodded.

Everyone in our little circle standing there jumped as Mark said loudly to everyone else in the room, "It's my twenty-third birthday today, and I couldn't be happier, everyone! This," he pointed down at me, "Is my girlfriend. And her name is Vic." Everyone looked around for a second, probably a little confused, and then started to clap awkwardly.

"That was a little over the top," I said, my face turning red.

Bah winked at me. "I'd like to propose a toast, everyone," he said, calling everyone's attention again, "to a long and happy relationship between my two friends here, the birthday boy Mark Johnson, and his lucky lady, Vic!"

"To Mark and Vic," Mike Eruzione crowed, holding his bottle up, and everyone followed suit.

I laughed, and Mark took my hand in his. "Kiss her, you fool!" OC yelled.

I looked up at Mark, who shrugged. "To us," he said quietly, and put his arms around my shoulders again, pulling me close for another kiss.

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