This is the drabble that was supposed to go out with Wednesday's newsletter, but technical issues have thus far prevented me from sending it. Hopefully they will be resolved soon and you'll all find a nice surprise in your inbox.

58. At the End of the Day
Alicia Blade
999 words

Continued from 38. Studying

I set the textbook aside with yet another sigh and crawled off the bed.

In the living room, the only signs of the girls were a few topsy-turvy pillows on the sofa and a lingering smell of perfume—I did not know whose perfume, but it was a pleasant, feminine scent, so I imagined it must have been hers. In vain I searched for something she may have left me, in secret. Some card or note or letter tucked in the cushions or beneath the coffee maker.

Stupid? Yes. I knew better. But I couldn't help it. If there was a chance, any slight chance, any at all, that she had left some hint for me to find, in her absence, that told of some secret longing, even half as strong as my own, then I had to know, had to find it, had to—

And… there was.

My heart stopped when I spotted it.

A notebook tucked behind the sofa. Well… not behind, but enough out of the way that it seemed likely enough that it had been put there by design. Pink, with a bunny sticker and loads of scribbles across the cover. It had to be hers.

But no sooner had I spotted it than a knock at the door nearly sent me tumbling over with surprise.

I cursed silently at the unknown intruder who would so blatantly disrespect this oh-so-important, life-changing moment, and went to open the door.

Only to find… her.

Sheepish. Shy. Perhaps even a bit frightened. She stood in the hallway with her head dipped and her bookbag clutched in her arms and a blush—one of the brightest I'd ever seen on her—covering her cheeks.

I could think of nothing to say, and so, finally, she broke the silence with a muttered, "I forgot my notebook."

Oh. Of course.

Secret hint of longing, indeed.

"Oh, okay," I managed, stepping aside. "I… haven't seen anything. Do you know where…?"

"It should be over here," she said, and walked straight to it, and picked it up, and slid it into her bag, and turned to face me, and stood. Just stood, shifting her weight from foot to foot and playing with a loose string on the bag and analyzing the hell out of my beige carpet.

"Thanks, again, for letting us use your place," she finally said.

"Sure, anytime." I was on auto-response mode. It was such a peculiar feeling, being alone with her, here, in my very own apartment, that I could not think of how I was supposed to act. Were there human rules of etiquette for such a situation? "Did you get a lot done?"

"Oh, yes. It's almost all figured out. Mako-chan will make the cake, and Mina's going to make up some playlists, and Rei and I will decorate, and Ami is responsible for getting him away for awhile. It's going to be great."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Oh good. I'm glad you're coming. I mean, I figured you would, but… I didn't know for sure…" She trailed off, fidgeted some more, and finally said in a half-hearted whisper. "I guess I should go. Thanks…"

She walked by me, still standing dumbly next to the open door. "I'll see you later," I called after her, and she nodded, but kept on walking. With no other option, I shut the door and fell against it and beat my head a few times on the solid wood and called myself some choice names.

Once I had stopped feeling quite so idiotic, I pouted up at the ceiling, and whispered to the empty room, "Would you like to stay? I could make hot cocoa. Or dinner… if you're hungry? I have noodles. And popcorn. We could order a pizza? I have movies we could watch, or maybe we could check out Pay Per View and see what's on. Or play games… I have cards, and dominoes… somewhere. I think. Maybe… if you wanted to stay… for just a little—"

Another knock.

I yelped this time, the pounding right at my head, and jumped away from the door. Slicking my hair back in faked composure, I slowly opened it again.

And blinked.

She blinked back. Licked her lips. Her blush seemed to have darkened… was it possible? But there was a firm resolution in her expression. A faux confidence betrayed by the pinkness of her complexion.

"Y-yes?"

"I didn't forget my notebook."

I stared.

"Well, I mean, I did, but it was on purpose."

Nothing.

"I wanted an excuse to come back. After the girls had left."

Was I dreaming?

"Uh… Mamoru?"

I started. "Yes, I'm sorry. I just… what were you saying?"

I saw her gulp, her conviction faltering. She scratched absently at her elbow. "I came back, because I wanted to… to tell you… something."

"What did you want to tell me?"

There was a long, thick hesitation, before I saw her shoulders sink and she shook her head. "Nothing. Never mind. It was about… the party, but we'll just talk about it later. Never mind. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

She turned to leave. Her feet dragged on the hallway carpet, her two streamers of hair swung limply at her sides.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?"

A pause. A slow turning back to me. A disbelieving frown. "What?"

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" The second time, it came out sounding a lot more confident, even though it wasn't.

"Why?"

I shrugged, my gaze dancing off to some invisible spot on the wall. "Because… it might be nice?"

"Are you serious?"

"Sure." I looked at her. "Yes. If you want to."

She allowed herself the slightest, panicked smile, as she nodded. "Okay."

"And maybe you could tell me… whatever it was you came to tell me?"

Her eyes flashed, lowered, eyelashes fluttering, blush blooming. But the smile increased, just a little, as she walked by me into my apartment.

"Yeah," I heard her say. "Maybe."