Author's note, disclaimer, etc: Chapter 5 and still I haven't succeeded in my plan to take over the world (or at least the Disney channel) and therefore own the rights to these characters. Damn. Also, thanks for the reviews! :)
So things were great. For a month, things
were really great. Around the others it was still
"Sorry I drank out of the milk carton, Mrs. P.," and
"Oh, those wacky teenagers and their shenanigans."
Still, no matter how much deeper our relationship became
during the quiet moments when the others left us alone (and no,
you perverts, I'm not just talking about the physical element),
there was a sense of impending doom that infected every word,
every glance, every touch. I think we both knew, or at least I
did, that one of us would eventually come up with the brilliant
idea of telling them all for the sake of being open and not lying
to everyone else we loved, and that one idea would bring this all
crashing down around us.
At just under the one-month mark, the suggestion finally
attacked. It was a perfectly peaceful... I don't know, what
do you call the hours between midnight and dawn? We were
just lying in bed, not touching, fully clothed. I could
feel his warmth occupying the left half of the mattress, hear him
blinking in the darkness, and it was perfect. And then:
"I want to tell them." As if the idea had already
been introduced and argued about, and he was returning to the
subject after everyone had a chance to calm down. Just,
"I want to tell them."
"I think that's an extraordinarily bad idea," I said
after a long, long silence.
"I know."
"Why do you think it isn't?"
"Because what happens if they just find out?"
"That won't happen."
"You can't hide from it forever, you know. I know it's
working now, and it is working, it's working great, but
what happens after a year, three years, five?"
"Good lord, you're optimistic." Another long
silence. "I'm sorry. I just don't know if
it's... worth it, I mean, what happens if this doesn't last?
Maybe the only thing keeping us together is the fact that
we shouldn't be together."
"You think that's all it is?"
I sat up and faced him. "What happens the first time I
slip? What happens the first time I go back to treating you
like one of Jack's friends? What happens the first time I
talk to you like your mother?"
"That won't happen."
It was my turn to stare him down. "Look, I'm fucked
up. I'm your mother's best friend. I'm obnoxious when
I don't get what I want, and sometimes I'm obnoxious when I do
get what I want because often I don't deserve it. I was
lonely without you and I'll probably be lonely with you.
Nothing lasts forever. I'd give this another month.
Maybe. If we tell anyone at all, both of our worlds
will be crushed in an instant. Your mother and father will
despise me. They'll call you things you should never have
to hear from your own parents. My children will despise and
resent both of us. Everyone we know will be against this.
You need to think about whether you want this--me--enough
to risk that." I swallowed hard and softened my voice
to imply sincerity. "And if you decide that this isn't
worth it, I'm not going to blame you. Things can just go
back to the way they were."
"Do you really think that could ever happen, that things
could just go back to the way they were?"
I didn't answer. I just looked at him, silently daring him
to walk out the door. Instead he spoke, barely audible:
"You know what I feel, Molly. What do you want?"
Wasn't it obvious from the way I had so generously offered him an
out instead of demanding that he go?
I was forming a more coherent answer than my instincts had
initially provided when he attacked again with this: "Do you
love me?"
Again, silence. What the hell was I supposed to say?
(Yes. I was supposed to say yes.) But I didn't.
I offered something safer: "I... I just... I don't
know what to..."
And he met my silent challenge by getting up and walking out the
door. Just as I'd planned.
You got what you want, now you can hardly stand it, though...
