AN: More to come.
and then there's those other things
which for several reasons we won't mention
everything about them is a little bit stranger
a little bit harder, a little bit deadly
I yawned and stretched, distracted momentarily from my romantic
angst by the pleasant comfort of sleeping in my old bed, with my
old sheets, my head on my old pillow. Mom had set up my old
things in a room I could use when I visited, which I guessed she
had hoped would happen more often than it actually had. But then
that old comfortable feeling began to remind me of other things
with which I used to be familiar and that I wasn't familiar with
anymore, that I'd never truly be familiar with again, and I
rolled out of bed with a sour expression on my face.
I stomped downstairs but tried to pull myself together before
hitting the kitchen. There was Mom, making toast. Carey was at
the table as usual, already eating. Fi sat in a chair beside him,
rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. It was really nice, and for a
second I wondered why I had ever wished for something more.
"Good morning," said Carey cheerfully, and then I
remembered. God, it was hard to even look at him anymore. They
were almost like twins sometimes, just a couple of years apart.
"Hey," I mumbled.
"Rough night?" Mom asked sympathetically.
"No, I slept really well," I admitted. "Thanks for
the room."
"Fi, are you okay?" Carey nudged her. "You've
barely said five words since you got here."
Mom shot him a warning glance. I wondered why.
Fi didn't look up when she answered. She stared at anything but
us: her hands, the empty chair, the wall. "I'm fine. I don't
really want to talk about it."
"That's all right," Mom told her, and set a plate of
toast on the table. Fi just looked at it.
"So, Ned said that Clu's coming in sometime later
today," Mom offered. It was Carey's turn to shoot her a
warning look, but this time I knew exactly what the reason was.
"Really," I said nonchalantly. "That's cool.
Haven't seen him in a while."
"Yeah, I bet you two will have a lot of catching up to
do," Mom smiled. God, she had no idea, did she? Maybe we'd
been more successful about hiding it than I'd originally thought
we had.
After a short, awkward silence, Carey spoke up again: "I
wonder if we'll have any more visitors?"
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Was it him? She'd said this
afternoon, right? Not this morning. It was morning, wasn't it? I
hadn't overslept? I swallowed hard.
"I'll get it," Carey volunteered, and I couldn't help
but follow closely behind him, as much as I wanted to stay put
and not betray myself like this.
He opened the door slowly, like he already knew who would be
standing there and was dragging it out for my benefit. Short
blonde hair. On a short person. "Jack!" she squealed,
and hugged me hard.
"Annie?" I asked in disbelief. "You're really
here?"
"Of course!" she giggled, grabbing my hand. "I
couldn't wait to see you! We were in L.A., and when I got the
e-mail, I convinced my mom to let me come and stay for a couple
of days!"
I had forgotten that in person, as opposed to online, virtually
every sentence Annie spoke, whether it was a question or a
declaration, ended with an exclamation mark. I supposed it was a
minor annoyance, and concentrated on being happy to see her. But
why had she come?
After Annie finished greeting Mom, Fi, and Carey almost as
enthusiastically as she'd greeted me, she dragged me upstairs to
my room and closed the door.
I was beginning to get a little scared.
She laughed. "I couldn't believe it, when he told me, I
thought, who, Jack? Me? Are you kidding? But we're such good
friends. But then I started thinking about it, and the more I
thought about it, the more perfect it seemed."
"Slow down. He who?"
"Carey!"
"Told you what?"
"About you."
"And?"
"Me!"
"He told you I liked you."
"Yes. Don't be mad at him, he just wanted you to be happier
than you were."
"But-" I paused. It had been a nice gesture on his
part, as idiotically misguided as it seemed to me. After all,
hadn't I gone to great lengths to convince him that Clu was the
exception and not the rule? Hadn't I gone on about those stupid
girls I went out with, and how cool it was that I'd kept in touch
with Annie? It was a reasonable assumption to make, and a caring
thing to do. But now I had to get rid of her.
"Annie," I said gently. "I'm sorry. I just--"
"Well, I know you're surprised to see me, but--"
"Carey got it wrong."
"What?"
"It's--it's not you. I'm sorry. I love you, I really do. But
you're, like, my sister. You know what I mean?"
She sat down beside me on the bed and nodded. I couldn't see her
face anymore. We both stared forward, at the blank wall.
"I'm so sorry, Jack," she said. "I just
thought"
"It's nobody's fault. It was a rational assumption."
She nodded again. I wondered if she would cry. I hoped she
wouldn't.
"There's no reason," I continued, "why we can't
have a hell of a good time now that you're here, though, is
there?"
"No," she smiled.
"Come on," I said. "Let's go out."
"Where?"
"I don't care. Anywhere. The mall. Whatever."
I dragged her down the stairs and out we went.
When we got back later, Mom told me in passing that Clu had
called Ned and Irene to say he'd had car trouble along the way
and he wouldn't be coming in until morning. It was fine with me.
My reaction was almost authentic. By that time my attentions were
focused elsewhere. Namely, on helping Carey the way he'd thought
he was helping me. And just because he was wrong didn't mean I
would be. In fact, since he wasn't lying about his feelings,
obviously, not like me, I figured I had a much better chance of
being right about what he wanted. I would help him get it. I
would help him get her. And then I'd be helping her, too. Carey's
attempt at doing a good deed for a friend perceived to be in need
had truly inspired me. Annie, suddenly my best girl friend
(although I still hadn't told her the truth about Clu) gave me
tips on how to talk to her to help her see that the two of them
truly belonged together.
After all, I knew I could never get what I wanted, but there
seemed to be no earthly reason why Carey couldn't.
I knocked on the door and turned the knob without waiting for an
answer. "Fiona? I think we should have a little talk."
