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Notes: Boy Meets World does not belong to me. I think it originally belonged to ABC before they sold the rights to Disney. At any rate, I'm not making any money off of this, and why would you want to sue a kid anyway? It's not like I'm doing any harm.
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And so it was over. The fight was done, everyone was friends again, and everything was settled. Everyone had made up; things were the way they should be. It was all resolved.
Right?
"So... where do we stand Eric?"
He blinked at me in that oh-so-innocent-and-naive way that he has. "What are you talking about Jack? We're friends again. Everyone's friends again, remember?"
"That's not what I meant..." I sighed. He probably didn't even remember the time that we were drunk and I kissed him. He probably didn't even notice how hard I had fallen for him, goofy and erratic as he was."
"What did you mean, Jack?"
We were walking back from the serious make-up session that we had had following the fight. Well... not directly from there. After making up the whole lot of us went out for ice cream and there was a lot of soul-searching. But that was done, and we were all of us walking back to our respective homes. And I was walking with Eric.
"I meant... I meant... isn't there more than just friendship between us? I mean... aren't we past that?"
He gave me a blank look and I just knew he didn't understand. I sighed once again. I would never get through to him. He has this deliberate obtuseness sometimes. Even though he can come up with the greatest and deepest of insights, he still pretends not to notice the little things. Maybe he really doesn't. Maybe he's just a genius in the way that the ancient insane prophets were geniuses. Either way, it's nearly impossible to get him to notice things with covert hinting.
"Look... can we stop and talk a moment?"
We were still in the park where we had gotten ice cream. It was rather late, so there was almost no one around. That was fine for what I had in mind to talk about.
"Sure Jack," he said amiably and a bit curiously. We walked a few more feet to a painted green bench. It was old, and worn, and the paint was chipping. It creaked when we sat down, but showed no signs of collapsing, thankfully.
We were silent for a moment. I was unwilling to broach the subject. How could I? What had even possessed me to bring this up? So I was feeling the need for a bit of closure after that argument. That was no reason to go around confessing my love to the only guy I had ever felt anything for my entire life.
Finally he became impatient enough to prompt me. "You wanted to talk about something Jack?"
"Yeah..." I muttered. I took a deep breath and leaned back, eliciting more creaking from the bench. The air was cool, and fresh, and went a great way towards soothing my frazzled nerves.
In the end, I decided to start with an event, rather than an emotion. I don't do emotions very well.
"You remember that time that we went to that party? It was right before you started looking into sororities. We went to that fraternity party. I think that was what got you looking into the girl's side of things anyway, but that's not the point. Do you remember the party?"
He was strangely serious when replying. I guess my somber mood must have rubbed off on him. "I remember most of it, I think. We got pretty drunk, didn't we?"
"Yeah." A small smile crept onto my face at the memory. "I practically had to drag you home to the apartment. Of course I was pretty drunk too, so it was sort of a mutual dragging, but we got there."
There was another small moment of silence, followed by another prompt from Eric. "So, what about it?"
I suddenly wished I smoked. I definitely needed something to calm me down at the moment. "I don't suppose you remember... what happened when we got back to the apartment?"
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, searching for his reaction. I expected a smile and a "no", but he surprised me with his answer.
"I don't know." He looked vaguely sheepish. "I... I was pretty drunk. I think I remember some things, but others were... a dream, or a hallucination or something. There were bunnies. Purple ones."
I shook my head. Somehow that was just like Eric. "Well... what do you remember?" I asked. "Besides the bunnies," I added hurriedly.
"Besides the bunnies?" He looked up at the sky. "That was a while ago. Let me think... There was some vague wondering about whether fraternities had girls, and there was a whole lot of headache the following morning. I remember... I remember you carrying me up the stairs and dumping me on my bed. I remember being slightly miffed about it because you were just as drunk as I was."
He turned his head toward me. "That's when the bunnies came in. But after that... you tucked me in." He smiled back up at the sky, seeming to enjoy the memory. "It was like you were worried about me. You tucked me into bed, and you kissed... me..." He suddenly blinked and looked back down at me. "That must have been a hallucination. I mean, right after the bunnies and all..."
I couldn't meet his eyes. For my life, I couldn't look him in the face when I whispered, "That part was real. I really did kiss you."
"So when you asked where we stand... you want to know if I love you back?"
...Did I mention how quick Eric is on the uptake? If he gets, he really gets it.
I cleared my throat in a rather embarrassed fashion. "Um... yeah. I guess I sort of do."
There was another pause, this one far more awkward than its predecessors. Eric surprised me by having no change in the tone of his voice when he next addressed me. "I didn't know you like guys Jack."
Great. Now I really couldn't look at him. I clasped my hands in my lap and looked down at them, trying to keep my voice steady. "That's the thing," I said, "I don't. Not really. I like girls. I've always liked girls. I really thought I was in love with Rachel. But then there's you. You're the only boy that I've ever really been attracted to, and it might just be because you're... well... you. I don't know."
"Hm." I sneaked a look at him to find him pondering this information. To his credit, he didn't look the least bit disgusted or angry, simply thoughtful.
"I guess," he said eventually, "I love you too. I mean, I never really gave it much thought, but you mean a lot more to me than any of the girls that I've known, including Rachel. You remember what I told you? When we were competing about her, it was never about her. It was about the competition. And now that I think about it... maybe a little bit about you too."
He looked over at me after finishing this narration and blinked. I must have been an interesting sight: completely slack-jawed and bug-eyed. In my wildest dreams, I had never expected more than an "I really care about you as a friend". I hadn't even really dared to hope for that much. And then he comes right out and tells me that he loves me too...
"A-are you sure?" I asked, shaken. "You're not just saying that, or over-rating your own feelings? You really... you really love me back?"
He nodded easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Of course." Then, apparently to demonstrate his point, he leaned forward and kissed my lips softly.
Needless to say, my brain stopped working for a moment. All I managed was a lot of blinking and some vague stares. I finally scrounged up enough mental skill to grab him by the back of the neck and pull him into a harder, longer kiss. Though startled, he quickly recovered and began kissing me back. A random coherent thought managed to work its was into my brain. It took me a while to decipher it, but when I did it came to the equivalent of "How the Hell did he get to be such a good kisser?"
We finally broke apart, because we are mammals after all, and mammals need to breathe. I think I managed something as witty as "Oh."
He smiled and stood up, holding out his hand to me. "Come on," he said. "We can go for a short walk before going home."
I nodded dumbly and let him pull me up. A walk. Right. That could work. I could start thinking again. And stuff.
He didn't release my hand after we stood up, nor when we started walking. And that was fine with me.
or
Oh God, that was hideous. Let me complain to the author.
