You guys seriously blew my mind! The response to my story has skyrocketed! It is beyond my comprehension!

But no, that's not even it. It's not the volume of reviews, it's the content. I can't believe how much you guys love my story. To get people saying they told half their school about "my awesome story" was incredible. Then to see usernames like "Enough Fan" and "More Enough"… I almost cried. *Cough cough* I mean, no I didn't. I'm a big girl. I'm so happy you can't get Enough (tee hee, see what I did there? XD)

I was going to wait a smidge longer once again, since I have four essays I'm in the middle of writing, but the chapter before last was record-shattering, and this one pretty much blew "record shattering" up in a microwave and ate it for breakfast… so HERE IS YOUR REWARD! Enjoy! It's the longest chapter yet.

Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb.


CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR:

Words

FERB

I rushed in my backdoor, disbelieving what had just happened. It didn't happen. It couldn't have happened. It… I…

Phineas was going to kill me.

I moved further into the room, where I was met with what had prompted me to try to apologize to Isabella in the first place despite the fact that I'd still been upset: a beckons by my brother. My eyes automatically fell to the third note.

'P.P.S. If you don't go and apologize to her, I will not hesitate to build an impenetrable fortress and not talk to you this time. Do it. Today. And be nice about it, please. –Phineas'

When I first read that this morning it had confused me, but then I remembered that one ridiculous fight we'd had when we were kids. Part of me didn't want to apologize just to see Phineas throw the fit, build the fortress, and try not to speak. He'd struggle with that.

Now all I had left was guilt.

And be nice about it, please.

Well. I'd failed. Not only had I not been very nice about it, I'd gone and…

And… it was the heat of the moment! We were fighting, and some things came out wrong, and she had the ridiculous idea that I didn't care about her, and she wouldn't listen, and… and I'd kissed her.

I kissed my little brother's girlfriend.

I crossed to the sink and rinsed my hand. I added a little soap, hoping that would be the end of that, but it stung something fierce. I gingerly patted it dry with a towel. It hurt. Ow, it hurt. But as much as I deserved the injury, it wouldn't do to have it get infected. I had no choice but to clean it.

Well, and Isabella would kill me if she knew I hadn't taken care of it. I thought back to her backyard just moments before… to her reaction, to her concern when she took my hand, to her lips making their way down my jaw…

No! I would have no more of Isabella! No more contact, no more consideration, no more! I had to truly cut her out! Because she was my little brother's girlfriend, and I'd just kissed her, and that would never be okay!

With a groan, I turned around to the kitchen counter, leaning on it and burying my face in my good hand. It would never be okay.

I heard the backdoor open, and before my muscles could respond, my mind jumped to the realization of what was happening. But she could not be here right now! She could not! My head snapped up, and I finally processed the fact that she was giggling.

She stepped inside, laughing and leaning against the wall like she'd just heard the world's funniest joke.

And she was completely soaked.

I wasn't seeing things, right? No, she was completely drenched from head to toe. And… and… oh, god…

Did… she remember she was wearing a white dress today? White dress with a pink bra, apparently. Add a lot of water… not the best combination. Thankfully her skirt had multiple layers, but…

Within a second, my mind shut down and then went through a total reboot. Why was she wet?! What was she even doing here? She's smart enough to know her presence wasn't a good idea! She's smart enough to know we had to stay away from each other! Absolutely and conclusively. Period.

"Isabella, what—"

"I love you."

Uh.

What?

"No, it's not even that," she laughed, throwing her arms out like she was exasperated. "I mean, I've always loved you. So that's not what I'm saying." She shut the glass door behind her, stepping out of the pool of water already accumulating around her feet.

She crossed over to me and threw her arms around me. I was too stunned to move… and probably much, much too selfish to regardless. Despite the water now seeping into the front of my shirt, I just loved feeling her against me. Feeling her in my arms. I was going to hell.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she said. "I'm sorry about not accepting your apology, and I'm sorry for picking a fight. I'm sorry about your hand, and… and…"

I was too stunned to do anything but hold her.

"Oh!" She sprang back. "Oh, I'm sorry for getting you wet!"

What had happened those four minutes we were apart from each other?

She turned on her heel, strolling back to the door like she wasn't sure what she should do with herself. "I don't love you, Ferb. Well, of course I do love you! You're my best friend, so of course I love you, I'm just not saying that."

She started meandering around our kitchen table, and I began to wonder if she'd somehow hit her head. I turned to follow her movements, keeping my eyes locked on her, but she was all over the place. I honestly had no clue what to make of it.

"Because then there's the whole word in, and that was what I was missing, but I fell in my pool, and I realized I've had the word in in there all along, and that's why I wasn't saying what I was just saying to you, because even as I said it to you, it would never be enough."

She stopped at the head of the table, running her hands through her dripping hair.

"And now I've realized that, but I can't, and I realized I'm in with the wrong in because I thought it was in all along, when it wasn't and it isn't and it never will be because… because…" She was clearly out of air by now. "Because of you."

She started laughing again, and I could only stare at her. She was so Isabella right now. She looked like she was happy and like she might cry at any second. She looked like a drowned model and she looked like a giddy psychopath.

I… I couldn't wrap my head around any of it. What just happened? Maybe I'd hit my hand so hard it traveled up my arm and did brain damage. I covered my eyes, tilting my head back in confusion.

Did… Isabella really just come in here in stitches, soaked in a see-through dress, and start wandering around rambling like a lunatic?

"Sounds about right," she confirmed and I removed my hand from my eyes.

Oh great… I'd asked that out loud… Damn her ability to draw words from my mouth!

I could only go back to staring at her. Then she jolted.

"Wait, did you say—" she looked down at herself, seeming to realize for the first time that she was wearing a white sundress. I hadn't meant to look, but the fabric up top was thin, leaving nothing to the imagination over her bra. It wasn't exactly subtle, either: bright pink with dark pink lace over—

My eyes shot to the ceiling. My cheeks burned so much I swore I could have cooked pancakes on them.

"Um… u-uh, I'm so sorry," I stuttered, still refusing to look at her. "I'm sorry I… I should have told you sooner… I should've—I was just so confused, and—"

"No, no… It's… it's okay," she said, seeming to sober up from her crazed rambling of before. "I didn't even…"

Doing my best not to look at her, I made my way over to my chair at the table. I had one of my favorite hoodies draped over the back, and I grabbed it. I crossed back around the table and held it out for her.

There were two seconds before her hand fastened around the material, and within that time my eyes betrayed me; they flashed back to her face, and in that moment of weakness they were hooked.

"I'm sorry," I murmured again, and she smiled down at my hand, still holding the hoodie even though she had it.

"It's okay," she repeated. Thankfully her voice seemed more amused than anything. "The embarrassment is eased by the rare sight of you getting flustered." Which… of course made me even more flustered. She laughed. "See? I've never seen your cheeks that red. What happened, Mr. Stoic? Did I throw you off your game?"

"Coming from the girl whose cheeks match her bra," I quipped, but it only ended up making me more self-conscious. I wanted to hit my head against something. I was always so collected, especially regarding ladies! I wasn't supposed to get flustered! How could she have so many effects on me?

She rolled her eyes, and I realized how close we'd somehow gotten. Cursed moment of weakness! The jacket still separated us—a final defense against our rash idiocy—but we were both holding it, and in some way that counted as a connection. I was looking down at her, and she was staring up at me…

I dropped my end of the hoodie and took a step back. How had it become impossible to simply be in the same room as her? How the heck had we gotten to this point? We couldn't fight—we couldn't even be standing in a reasonable proximity—without getting so caught up in each other that we did something stupid.

She continued to watch me, doing nothing but hold the jacket. She… she should really put it on. That would make all of this so much easier.

"Well?" she snapped suddenly, and I raised my eyebrow at her. "Are you going to turn around, or what?"

That did nothing to help my confusion, and I realized I could die of embarrassment right now. Any second, I could keel over. My cheeks were feverish. But I immediately turned away from her. Then I heard the sound of a zipper. Putting on the hoodie. Then I heard the sound of another zipper. Not putting on the hoodie? I heard the slap of wet clothing against the ground, then the sound of a zipper being pulled up?

"It's safe," she said, but I didn't need to turn around. She strolled right passed me, making a beeline for the sink. Her sopping dress was held in her hand, and it took almost an entire minute watching her ring it out for my brain to process that she was only wearing my hoodie.

I mean, the hoodie was pretty loose on me, and thus it was a dress on her. The sleeves were super bunched up on her thin arms and fell about constantly. The fabric made it halfway down her thigh, not much shorter than most of her dresses… but… god, she was wearing only my hoodie.

What was happening today?

"Isabella?" I choked out, almost feeling the need to turn around in the opposite direction.

"Hey, you try wearing a drenched flowy-twirly skirt. It's heavy, and I was dripping everywhere." She reached into a drawer and pulled out a dishtowel, which she chucked back at me. "Here."

Seriously, what was happening? We go from fight to kiss to separation to soaked reappearance to sudden rambling nonsense to wearing only my hoodie and acting normal. Well, acting abnormal, but acting normal compared to the whole fighting and rambling lunatic thing.

"Isabella, I… I'm so confused. You fell in your pool? You love me, but you don't love me, but you do love me, but that's not what your saying? And all that stuff where you kept saying the word in, I have no clue—What just happened?"

She tossed her dress to the side of the sink and turned around to face me. I… I got caught in her eyes again.

Crap! Mental slap. I suddenly remembered exactly why we were in this position. I remembered exactly why I'd stormed away from her, and exactly why she absolutely could not be here right now.

"Isabella, you have to leave," I blurted out, my mouth jumping on the same train of thought that just rammed into my brain. "I… I messed up." I let out a dry laugh. "No, that doesn't even cover it. I completely screwed up, completely screwed up everything." I crossed over to her, taking her elbow with the intent of ushering her back outside, back to her house so she and I could boycott each other in the name of human decency. "I won't… it won't happen again, and—"

"No, Ferb." She pulled back, staring at me intently. Any psychosis remaining from the giggling wreck she was when she came in the door seemed largely contained, and I could see the side to her that understood the gravity of this situation. The gravity of what had happened in her backyard. "No, I'm tired of leaving."

"Isabella—"

"No! No more 'you have to leave.'" She laughed. "In fact, 'leave' just made the list."

"The list?"

"With 'maybe' and 'inevitable,'" she muttered. "Words I hate. Don't ask. Point is, I'm not leaving, Ferb."

"Isabella," I put my hands on her shoulders, feeling a distinct sting in my right. I tried to ignore the injury, though. I had bigger fish to fry. "You're with Phineas. Do you not understand what that means?"

"Do you?"

"What?"

"Well based on earlier today…"

"Now is not the time to make jokes, Bella! You should know that."

"Are you kidding?" she laughed. "Everything is a mess right now. Absolutely everything. My friends are at my throat about Phineas, my relationship with you two guys is a wreck, and my dog is dead. I need a joke right now. It's one of the few things I have left I can make sense of!"

I watched her, studying the set of her face and the glimmer in her eyes. I realized something that I hadn't noticed in the wake of our fight—something I'd been too angry to see before. There was some flare there, something vibrant.

"And I know I must not be making any sense," she continued. "I know I must seem all over the place, and I keep contradicting myself, and I don't know how to say what I want to say, or do what I want to do, and I'm drenched, and I'm a mess, but it's the only way I can make it right now, Ferb. I don't know any other way, but I'm trying—"

Her voice broke, but I was surprised to see no tears.

"I'm trying, Ferb..."

But… but I had to keep this in perspective.

"Listen, I understand that. Get it all out of your system now, because if Phineas finds out what—"

"What if I break up with him?"

I blinked. Then I blinked again. A third, a fourth, and she just stood watching me. "What?"

"Phineas. What if I broke up with him? What then?"

I had to turn away from her. I had to squeeze my eyes shut, had to keep myself from running away with those words. I had to keep this in perspective!

"Isabella, you wouldn't do that. You—"

"Would do anything for you, Ferb. Anything to keep from seeing you as anguished as you've been over this. Anything to keep you from being hurt and driven to the point of bursting like I did, and I'm sorry, so sorry that I—"

I turned and placed my finger over her lips.

"I… that was all my fault, not yours. But please, please don't tell me you'd break up with Phineas. Don't tell me that, love, because I—god, I don't have the heart to hear it. You wouldn't break up with Phineas."

I pulled my hand back, but she reached out and took it. She was shaking her head at me. An airy laugh escaped her throat.

"Everyone keeps telling me what I should, could, would… Isabella, you should know that, Isabella if you could only admit this, Isabella you wouldn't do that."

"Isabella…"

"This…" she held up our intertwined hands. "And… and this…" her fingers spread across the center of my chest, her palm just over my heart. She stared up at me.

"Isabella, you—you shouldn't—"

"No, Ferb," she hummed. "No, no more of that." She took a step forward, leaned up on her tiptoes, and pressed her lips against mine. It was short and simple—just those three seconds of pressure—and she pulled back before I could even react. "This… how this feels… doesn't that trump any should, could, or would?"

I could only gape at her. Phineas… oh god, Phineas was going to kill me.

"Well, doesn't it?" she repeated, and I yanked my voice forth from my stunned brain.

"Not when you're with my brother."

"That's why I would—"

"No, Bella," I snapped back. Then I reigned my tone back in; she didn't deserve that. "I'm sorry, it's just… you wouldn't. You wouldn't break up with him. You wouldn't be able to, and if need be, I can tell you why."

I paused, giving her the opportunity to have her guess. To tell me she knew for herself. I could see she wouldn't say anything. That was okay, though. I would.

"You wouldn't be able to because Phineas is the only one left in all of this—in the entirety of this mess—who isn't guilty. He's always been the last to know on every front, but the most positive nevertheless. He's the only one left with some decency, and you wouldn't be able to take that away.

"You wouldn't have the heart to do it, love. It's one of the reasons I—"Censor, censor, censor! "I just know."

"What makes you so sure?"

I shook my head at her. "Because I don't have the heart to do that to my brother either. You think I want to see you with him? But it's Phineas. Phineas, the most genuine, caring, and ingenious person alive. He has the biggest heart, and I could never crush it. So how could I expect you to? You've got too much heart to break his."

I could see it in the surprise in her eyes. She couldn't comprehend how I'd managed to capture her struggle so entirely. She looked so trapped, and my mind was reeling for a way to make this okay.

Would my brother understand? Well he might, but he liked Isabella. He seriously came to bat for her when I'd exploded at her—mental cringe—and had been wonderful every step of the way. And emotions led people to do crazy things… like start screaming at someone after they were already mourning the loss of their dog, for example. Who knew how my brother might react to something like this.

"But Ferb… people can adapt. People can change. Just look at you. At me!"

"Are you seriously saying you think you can march right up to Phineas and dump him just like that?" I asked doubtfully. She stuck her lip out in distaste.

"I… I don't know, Ferb. But I'm just saying things change. Everything changes, but it's like we're all stuck playing the exact same parts. We're in these roles, we're focusing on all those damn shoulds and coulds and woulds, and you're being so ridiculous right now," she laughed. "Absolutely ridiculous, you silly boy. Why can't you just listen and accept the fact that I—"

We heard keys in the front door.

Shit! This wasn't good.

Because here I was, standing inappropriately close to Isabella in our kitchen, clearly in the middle of a very heated heart-to-heart… with her only wearing my hoodie.

"Yo, bro," came Phineas' call, "you home yet?"

I was frozen; I couldn't respond. Isabella suffered the same affliction, and I suddenly remembered she was still holding my hand. Oh, that was enough to thaw me. I let it drop like a hot coal, taking a step away from her and trying to pretend she wasn't watching me.

Phineas let out a laugh, still by the front door. "Are you actually not home?" he yelled out. "Or am I just being too optimistic about your recent vocal streak?"

"I'm home," I called back. I had to; trying to hide or cover up Isabella being here would never work, and any attempts to do so would only make this even more suspicious. It didn't need any help to look even worse. Two seconds later, Phineas bounded into the kitchen.

And for once I wished my brother wasn't so dreadful at hiding his emotions. He was completely taken aback, and it was written vividly across his face. His mouth dropped open like he had something to say, but couldn't. His eyes automatically went to Isabella, sizing her up in her indecent state, then flickered back and forth between us. He just stood there.

"Hey, Phineas," Isabella broke the stunned silence of his entrance, brushing a few strands of her dripping hair behind her ear. "Um… What'cha doing?"

"What… what am I doing?" he asked, bewildered being the understatement to end all understatements when describing his expression. He looked around the kitchen, probably surveying the various puddles left from where Isabella had been standing. "That is not the question here."

Isabella looked at me, but I didn't know what to say any better than she did. I looked back at my brother, surprised to see him watching Isabella watching me. The awkwardness now seeping into the atmosphere would soon be as thick as fog, though, and I knew something had to be said.

"I went over to Isabella's to apologize," I blurted out, completely without a clue as to where I was going with this.

"And I slammed the door in his face," Isabella joined in.

Well, I suppose chronological order was a good place to start.

"I broke in the backdoor."

"We started fighting again."

"I… got mad and stormed away."

"I tripped on—on Pinky's ball and fell in my pool." Her eyes fell to her bare feet, and I had to resist a sudden urge to put my arm around her.

"Then she showed up here anyway."

"I didn't want to end things on a fight."

"She was dripping and illogical."

"I forgot I chose that dress today," she gestured to the sodden lump of fabric on the counter.

"I had a hoodie here."

"I put it on."

"And… we're doing better now. I mean, we're not really fighting." I concluded. Isabella nodded. Yeah… that was a good sum up. It was a weird sum up, because I became aware of some shift between Isabella and I… but it would do.

Phineas' gaze drifted between us like we were still going back and forth explaining how we got into this practically inexplicable situation, but what else should I expect? This was weird!

After a minute, my brother drawled out a confused, "o… kay?" His cheeks started turning pink. "And… um… you couldn't put the hoodie on over the dress?"

"Flowy-twirly skirt," I replied, though I wasn't sure what had possessed me to. My brother turned a look on me that let me know he was wondering if I'd dropped from another planet. "Apparently it's heavy when wet."

"And uncomfortable," Isabella chimed in.

I crossed over to the sink, taking the dress and giving it a proper wringing. My hand burned at this, but I once again ignored it; now was not the time to address the issue. Isabella hadn't been strong enough to get all of the water out, and I was able to get a good dose of that chlorine-infused liquid down the drain.

"But… it's white," Phineas said like he'd just registered that fact.

Isabella let out a nervous laugh. "Hence the hoodie. I, uh—I'd forgotten… I hadn't even realized…"

Oh god, thank goodness I had an excuse to keep my brother from seeing my face right now. I wouldn't be able to bear it if… I didn't even know what I would look like.

And now I almost wanted to laugh, because it wasn't until my conversation with Isabella today that I realized how much I used the word would.

"Would just the made list," I muttered, and Isabella snorted.

"The list?" my brother asked.

I turned on my heel, holding the dress out to Isabella. She took it, purposefully avoiding my gaze. I was okay with that right about now; both of us had been exploding, contradicting messes—swerving here and there, but always missing a road that made sense—and after our most recent conversation, I didn't know how we should act around each other now.

Should. I'd done it again.

"I didn't realize what time it was. I should probably go," Isabella said, taking her dress, and I raised my eyebrow at that dreaded word. "I should…"

She froze, and I could practically see her jump on the same mental bus as I had. She met my eyes despite her previous effort not to, and I thought back to what she'd said a short time ago.

I need a joke right now. It's one of the few things I have left I can make sense of…

I realized she was right, because in that second—that one moment when we both knew we were thinking the exact same thing—we couldn't help but burst into laughter. It wasn't even funny, but it was cathartic, and it felt so good. Isabella was absolutely right; we needed jokes.

And it wasn't even that we needed something to make sense of, because our laughter didn't make sense. It was that we needed something—in the midst of all this frustration and confusion—that was actually supposed to not make sense.

"Guys?" Phineas stared at the two of us like we'd lost our minds. I couldn't blame him. It very well could be true.

"Sorry, Phineas," Isabella breathed, and we both began to reign it in.

"What's going on with you two?"

And… there was gravity. Since when had I developed bipolar issues? Because just that question was enough to completely sober me up. It caught Isabella, too, who looked at me like she was expecting me to answer.

What the hell were we doing? This already looked bad enough. No more inside jokes, no more added tension, no more little back-and-forths and twinkling laughter that reminded me of the one thing I couldn't have.

It was like we kept drifting in and out of the reality of this situation. We had to be more careful about that! The reality was that question. What was going on with the two of us? How could we answer that? Because the answer had to be nothing. It was the only decent answer we could give.

Could. Man, I wished she hadn't pointed that out.

"What was so funny?" he restated, and I almost let out a relieved puff of air. That question was much easier to handle.

"Ferb and I are having issues with words today," Isabella answered just before I could, shaking her head. "Would and should in particular. Could too, but that hasn't come up yet. I'm sorry, Phineas, I'm sure we're not making any sense."

"You'd be correct," my brother said slowly. He hadn't moved an inch from when he'd first entered the kitchen.

Isabella cleared her throat. "It's not actually all that funny. I… I just need to jump on any opportunity to laugh, you know?"

Phineas' expression softened at this. "I get it. I'm happy that you have some sort of distraction. And… I guess I'm happy that whatever issue there was with you guys is solved."

I nodded, but Phineas raised his eyebrow at me.

"Is it solved, Ferb?"

Wait… uh…

I looked to Isabella again, silently trying to tell her that she had to take this one; I had no clue what issues there were or weren't, or where we stood. All I knew was no matter what had happened today, the bottom line was still the same; Isabella was with Phineas.

But she never met my gaze. Instead she was staring intently at the clock on the wall behind my brother's head. "My mom will get off of work soon. I need to shower again," she looked down at herself. "And finding some real clothes would be smart. My mom… uh… well, I don't think she'd understand if…"

Oh, stop talking, Isabella. It was already weird enough for her boyfriend to have to look at her in nothing but his brother's hoodie. We didn't need to be reminded what everyone else would think.

"Look, I have to go." She balled her dress up in her hands. "I wanted to tell you thanks for being there for me last night, Phin. I needed it." She strolled passed him towards the front door, turning around as she went.

"Of… course…" Phineas replied, obviously confused by the abruptness of her departure. He turned around too, following her slow retreat with his eyes.

"Ferb…" she looked straight into my eyes, which was surprising. For some reason, I hadn't been expecting that. "I…" she bit her lip, her head tilting to the side ever so slightly, "I'll return the hoodie as soon as possible, okay?"

I nodded. She held my gaze for just a second more, then turned back around, heading down the hall. She left.

The towel Isabella had thrown to me earlier sat on the counter by my elbow and I realized I'd never used it. Well, it was a good excuse to do something. To not have to stand here and drown in the waves of awkward.

I grabbed it with my good hand and bent down, wiping up the floor where Isabella had stood. This was crazy, absolutely crazy! All that had happened in her backyard, the conversation here, Phineas walking in at the end of it… I was still trying to process it all.

I mean, the first thing she said when she walked in was that she loved me, but after that… It was all a mess. She was all over the place, contradicting herself and saying she didn't love me, but that she did, but that wasn't what she was saying. I didn't know what was true or where anyone stood.

Well, except me. I knew where I stood.

I felt guilty, because I wanted to think this was a good day. Isabella and I had… and that was what I wanted, but… no conversation or understanding or amount of laughter would change the fact that Isabella was not with me. She was with Phineas. And I had broken something there. I had crossed a line I shouldn't have.

"Ferb…" my brother spoke—just my name, then nothing.

One deep breath.

"Yes, Phineas?"

"What's going on?"


R/R please! I can't tell you guys how much your responses have meant to me :)

And I was trying to do something creative with this chapter. In his famous essay "Projective Verse" (1950), Charles Olson (quoting Robert Creeley) wrote: "FORM IS NEVER MORE THAN AN EXTENSION OF CONTENT." Just like that, capitalization and all. I tried to embody that this chapter. The characters are confused and all over the place, and I'm using first person narration, so I tried to make it come across as a little confusing and all over the place.

That being said, I still wanted it to be followed and not too questionable XD hopefully I found that balance. But it was just a little experimental writing on my end. All in all, you still got the story ^.^

And NOOOOOOOOO… Isabella finally told her she loved him, but ends up screwing it up. For anyone who was just as confused as Ferb was (it's okay; that's the point of first POV) she was trying to tell him she didn't just love him, but was in love with him, and couldn't get it to come out right. Now Ferb doesn't know what's going on.

Meanwhile, Phineas is asking him what's going on. Ferb doesn't know. Phineas is asking anyway… Should be interesting ^.^

Love, Lilly-Belle