Chapter 6
"C'mon," Rachel said, anxiously motioning for Monica to follow her upstairs to her room. "You gotta tell me everything."
As Monica climbed the stairs, she realized she never thought she would be in a position to fill Rachel in on the details concerning her and a guy. It was always Monica who begged to hear all the juicy tidbits. She decided to enjoy this turn of events for as long as it lasted.
Rachel plopped herself down on the bed and sat cross-legged after patting a spot on her quilted comforter for Monica.
"He is cute!" Rachel gushed. "His eyes. They're so blue! And his smile!"
"I know!" Monica wholeheartedly agreed.
They both laughed.
"Monica, you look so happy. Okay, now you talk. Tell me everything."
As Monica relayed the events of the past two days, she included the conversation she'd overheard between Brenda and Laurie.
"Those bitc..."
Monica cut her off. "Thanks, Rach, but you know it's what others have said and are saying, too. Brenda likes Chandler, but he told me he's not seeing her."
"Good for him!" Rachel said, with righteous indignation. "She doesn't deserve him."
"You don't even know her," Monica chided, while secretly being thankful she had a friend who was on her side, no matter what.
"Hey, she spoke badly about you. I don't need to meet her to know she's not nice. So is Ross like pulling his hair out over this or what?"
"He's being okay about it in front of us, but he's also giving us not-so-subtle warnings. And he probably is cursing both of us when we're not around. But guess what? I don't care!"
They both collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"What about this whole I don't want any potato chips, thank you, and I'll drink a Diet Coke. Is it because of Chandler?" Rachel asked.
"No," Monica said, picking up a lavender throw pillow and clutching it to her stomach. "Not entirely. I decided to get serious about losing weight before I even met Chandler. Okay, so he's an added motivation, but Ross already lectured me about not using Chandler as a reason to lose weight. I don't need to hear it from you, too, Rach."
"I wasn't going to say anything. I think it's great. I'll help you any way I can."
"You're such a good friend to me!" Monica exclaimed, her voice conveying her gratefulness. "You know, Rach, the first time Chandler kissed me, I tried to think of all the cool things you told me to do if a guy ever kissed me, but I...I couldn't remember any of them."
"I'm sure you did fine. He kissed you again, didn't he?"
Monica shrugged shyly. "Yeah, he did. And it was sooo awesome. I know I can't call Chandler my boyfriend or anything because we agreed on that, but Rach, I gotta tell you this. He is someone I can totally see myself giving my flower to someday!"
"Monica, please. We've talked about this before. Don't call it that. It creeps me out."
"Okay, okay," she said, fidgeting with the pillow.
"Do you think...I mean, is that something you think Chandler would want to do? With you?"
"I don't know," Monica said. She began to feel some of her newfound confidence slipping away. "You don't think he would, do you?"
"No, Mon, I'm not saying that, okay? I just...I think you should consider, very carefully, what he said to you tonight before he left."
"Was he trying to let me down gently?" Monica asked, her voice almost a whisper. "Did I totally blow it, Rach? You gotta be honest with me because I don't know what I'm doing!"
"No, Mon. I think he just wanted to make sure that you knew where he was coming from. I think he likes you. I really do. But he is a guy, Mon. I think he wanted to emphasize that point."
"Because I'm a moron who had this stupid dreamy look on her face that probably freaked him out! Why can't I be cool like you, Rach?"
Disgusted with herself, Monica threw the pillow on the bed and stood up. Rachel stood as well and placed her hands on Monica's upper arms.
"I believe, with all my heart, that Chandler genuinely likes the Monica he met this weekend. You were being yourself. You don't have to be like me or anyone else. The worst thing you can do is to start playing games with him. He saw the real you, and he wasn't freaked. He spent time with you. But he's in college, Mon, and you're not. That's all I'm saying."
Monica nodded. "You're right. I told him I can handle this, and I will. You'll see!"
*~*
When Chandler arrived at NYU, he decided to go to Central Perk, a local hangout, for some java and dessert. He thought Ross might be there. He didn't see his roommate, but he did see a few of his male friends and decided to join them at one of the tables. When he sat down with his cup of coffee and piece of apple pie, the guys started pointing and laughing.
"I see you finally managed to shed all that 'excess weight'," one of them said and then high-fived another guy.
"What?" Chandler asked, even though the knot forming in his stomach told him he knew what, or rather who, had prompted their insults.
"C'mon," Tony, one of Chandler's friends from high school, said as he straddled his chair. "We know you were only seen with Miss Fatty as a favor to your roommate. Relax, man. She's history. You never have to see her again."
"Or more importantly," another guy added, "be seen with her again. You deserve a medal. You wouldn't have caught any of us having to walk with her on campus. You are the talk of NYU this weekend, that's for damn sure."
"Yeah, okay, whatever," Chandler said, his appetite suddenly gone.
He pushed away the coffee cup and the plate with the untouched pie on it and stood from his chair.
"Where ya goin'?" Tony asked. "Phoebe Buffay is about to entertain us. You know we can't make it through one of her sets without your running commentary."
"Well, you're gonna have to," Chandler said, his tone gruff. "I don't feel like being witty. Any of you got a problem with that?"
"No," they all chorused, wondering what had set off their normally good-natured friend.
"Good. I'll see you guys later."
Chandler was ready to leave when a dark-haired, dark-eyed man, who looked to be of Italian descent, approached him from the next table.
"Hey, I'm Joey Tribbiani. I come here a lot and see you here, too. Looks like you're having some trouble with your friends."
"Nah. It's nothing. I'm Chandler Bing, by the way."
They shook hands. Joey eyed the still uneaten piece of pie.
"Are you really gonna leave without eating that?"
Chandler looked to the table where his "friends" were too busy guffawing and pointing at him to notice he'd left his apple pie untouched.
"Is that why you introduced yourself to me?" Chandler asked, incredulous. "You want my pie?"
Joey had the decency to look uncomfortable. "Well, it's a perfectly good piece, and if you're not going to eat it..."
"Go ahead," Chandler said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Eat the damn piece of pie. What do I care?"
"Thanks, man. Oh, and hey, if you ever want to sit with someone who won't point and laugh at you, come to my table. My friend Phoebe sings here, and I usually come with her, so..."
"Do you go to NYU?" Chandler asked.
"No, not me." Joey straightened his stance and smiled confidently. "I'm going to be an actor."
"Oh, okay," Chandler said, trying not to laugh or sound cynical. "Well, hey, good luck with that."
*~*
"I think my family's home," Rachel said.
She peered out her window and saw the headlights of her father's Mercedes as he pulled into the driveway.
"Yep, they're here."
Rachel and Monica, now dressed for bed, pulled on their robes and headed downstairs to greet the Greens. What they didn't expect to encounter was their fury.
"Rachel Karen Green," her mother said, after sending her two younger daughters upstairs, "you have a lot of explaining to do, young lady."
"Mom, wha-what's going on?"
"You put us in a terrible position tonight. We ran into Monica's parents who thought their daughter had been staying with us. We didn't even know she would be here tonight! How could you have lied to your parents, Monica, and Rachel, how could you have covered for her?"
"I'm sorry, Mom, but Monica had something really important she needed to do."
"That involved you and lying?" her father demanded.
"Monica, you get on that phone right now and call your parents. They are worried sick about you. Tell them we will drive you home immediately. Rachel, we will discuss your punishment when we return."
"I'm so sorry," Monica said, practically in tears.
"Call your parents!" Mr. and Mrs. Green yelled simultaneously.
Monica heard the disgust in her mother's voice and squeezed her eyes shut as she recoiled from the tongue lashing. She knew it was going to be a long night.
"I'm so sorry, Rach," Monica said over and over again, as she dressed in the bedroom. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I'll make it up to you. I swear I will."
"My parents are furious," Rachel said miserably. "I hope they don't ban me from the malls!"
"Think of something you want, and I'll do it for you. I promise I will. I'm sorry."
*~*
Monica could not look at her parents as she trudged, despondent, into her house. Her mother ordered her to sit on the sofa in the living room.
"Tell us where you've been the last two days," her father said, his voice stern. "And don't you leave out a single detail, missy."
"I went to see Ross at NYU," Monica said, her voice small.
"What?!" her parents yelled.
"See," Monica said, looking at them for the first time, "I knew you wouldn't let me go, so I had to sneak around to do it."
"What is wrong with you?" her mother demanded. "If you wanted to see Ross, all you had to do was ask. We would've taken you."
"But I wanted to do it on my own! I'm eighteen. I'm not a baby. I can do things by myself!"
"And you sure did this one the mature way," her mother sneered.
"We realize you're not a baby," her father said, "but when you pull stunts like this, Monica, how can you expect your mother and me to treat you like an adult?"
Monica looked away. She knew they were right, but she didn't want to think about it.
"Answer your father!" her mother yelled, her patience gone.
"I know I messed up," she finally said, her voice trembling.
"And you got your good friend Rachel in trouble, too," Judy added. "I don't understand you sometimes, Monica, I really don't."
"Sometimes?!" Monica cried. "How about never!"
"Listen, young lady," Jack said, shaking his index finger at his daughter. "Don't you talk to your mother like that in that tone of voice."
"I had something really important I wanted to talk to Ross about. I didn't go there just to fool around!"
"You should have come to us," Jack said.
As soon as they started taking turns lecturing her, Monica tuned them out. She let her mind wander to the time she had spent with Chandler. As she heard her car and mall privileges being revoked, she asked herself if it had been worth it. Reliving their last kiss in her mind's eye, she knew it had been. She couldn't help but smile inwardly even as it sounded like her parents were punishing her into the next century.
*~*
"Did you talk to him?" Phoebe, a quirky blonde, asked Joey, as they sat on the sofa in Central Perk sipping coffee after she had sung and played her guitar for the patrons.
"Briefly."
"What's his name?"
"Chandler Bing."
Phoebe mulled the name over. "Kinda unusual, but that's okay. What else did you find out?"
"Apparently, he was forced to be with some loser fat chick," Joey said. "Man, his friends were giving him a hard time."
He grinned as he recalled the fast and furious quips being thrown Chandler's way.
"So, you don't think he's seeing anyone?"
Joey shrugged. "Didn't sound like it to me."
"Then," Phoebe asked, her hazel eyes lighting up, "you think I might have a chance with him?"
"Pheebs, after what I heard his friends say about that chick he was with, how could he not want to be seen with someone as beautiful as you?"
"C'mon," Rachel said, anxiously motioning for Monica to follow her upstairs to her room. "You gotta tell me everything."
As Monica climbed the stairs, she realized she never thought she would be in a position to fill Rachel in on the details concerning her and a guy. It was always Monica who begged to hear all the juicy tidbits. She decided to enjoy this turn of events for as long as it lasted.
Rachel plopped herself down on the bed and sat cross-legged after patting a spot on her quilted comforter for Monica.
"He is cute!" Rachel gushed. "His eyes. They're so blue! And his smile!"
"I know!" Monica wholeheartedly agreed.
They both laughed.
"Monica, you look so happy. Okay, now you talk. Tell me everything."
As Monica relayed the events of the past two days, she included the conversation she'd overheard between Brenda and Laurie.
"Those bitc..."
Monica cut her off. "Thanks, Rach, but you know it's what others have said and are saying, too. Brenda likes Chandler, but he told me he's not seeing her."
"Good for him!" Rachel said, with righteous indignation. "She doesn't deserve him."
"You don't even know her," Monica chided, while secretly being thankful she had a friend who was on her side, no matter what.
"Hey, she spoke badly about you. I don't need to meet her to know she's not nice. So is Ross like pulling his hair out over this or what?"
"He's being okay about it in front of us, but he's also giving us not-so-subtle warnings. And he probably is cursing both of us when we're not around. But guess what? I don't care!"
They both collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"What about this whole I don't want any potato chips, thank you, and I'll drink a Diet Coke. Is it because of Chandler?" Rachel asked.
"No," Monica said, picking up a lavender throw pillow and clutching it to her stomach. "Not entirely. I decided to get serious about losing weight before I even met Chandler. Okay, so he's an added motivation, but Ross already lectured me about not using Chandler as a reason to lose weight. I don't need to hear it from you, too, Rach."
"I wasn't going to say anything. I think it's great. I'll help you any way I can."
"You're such a good friend to me!" Monica exclaimed, her voice conveying her gratefulness. "You know, Rach, the first time Chandler kissed me, I tried to think of all the cool things you told me to do if a guy ever kissed me, but I...I couldn't remember any of them."
"I'm sure you did fine. He kissed you again, didn't he?"
Monica shrugged shyly. "Yeah, he did. And it was sooo awesome. I know I can't call Chandler my boyfriend or anything because we agreed on that, but Rach, I gotta tell you this. He is someone I can totally see myself giving my flower to someday!"
"Monica, please. We've talked about this before. Don't call it that. It creeps me out."
"Okay, okay," she said, fidgeting with the pillow.
"Do you think...I mean, is that something you think Chandler would want to do? With you?"
"I don't know," Monica said. She began to feel some of her newfound confidence slipping away. "You don't think he would, do you?"
"No, Mon, I'm not saying that, okay? I just...I think you should consider, very carefully, what he said to you tonight before he left."
"Was he trying to let me down gently?" Monica asked, her voice almost a whisper. "Did I totally blow it, Rach? You gotta be honest with me because I don't know what I'm doing!"
"No, Mon. I think he just wanted to make sure that you knew where he was coming from. I think he likes you. I really do. But he is a guy, Mon. I think he wanted to emphasize that point."
"Because I'm a moron who had this stupid dreamy look on her face that probably freaked him out! Why can't I be cool like you, Rach?"
Disgusted with herself, Monica threw the pillow on the bed and stood up. Rachel stood as well and placed her hands on Monica's upper arms.
"I believe, with all my heart, that Chandler genuinely likes the Monica he met this weekend. You were being yourself. You don't have to be like me or anyone else. The worst thing you can do is to start playing games with him. He saw the real you, and he wasn't freaked. He spent time with you. But he's in college, Mon, and you're not. That's all I'm saying."
Monica nodded. "You're right. I told him I can handle this, and I will. You'll see!"
*~*
When Chandler arrived at NYU, he decided to go to Central Perk, a local hangout, for some java and dessert. He thought Ross might be there. He didn't see his roommate, but he did see a few of his male friends and decided to join them at one of the tables. When he sat down with his cup of coffee and piece of apple pie, the guys started pointing and laughing.
"I see you finally managed to shed all that 'excess weight'," one of them said and then high-fived another guy.
"What?" Chandler asked, even though the knot forming in his stomach told him he knew what, or rather who, had prompted their insults.
"C'mon," Tony, one of Chandler's friends from high school, said as he straddled his chair. "We know you were only seen with Miss Fatty as a favor to your roommate. Relax, man. She's history. You never have to see her again."
"Or more importantly," another guy added, "be seen with her again. You deserve a medal. You wouldn't have caught any of us having to walk with her on campus. You are the talk of NYU this weekend, that's for damn sure."
"Yeah, okay, whatever," Chandler said, his appetite suddenly gone.
He pushed away the coffee cup and the plate with the untouched pie on it and stood from his chair.
"Where ya goin'?" Tony asked. "Phoebe Buffay is about to entertain us. You know we can't make it through one of her sets without your running commentary."
"Well, you're gonna have to," Chandler said, his tone gruff. "I don't feel like being witty. Any of you got a problem with that?"
"No," they all chorused, wondering what had set off their normally good-natured friend.
"Good. I'll see you guys later."
Chandler was ready to leave when a dark-haired, dark-eyed man, who looked to be of Italian descent, approached him from the next table.
"Hey, I'm Joey Tribbiani. I come here a lot and see you here, too. Looks like you're having some trouble with your friends."
"Nah. It's nothing. I'm Chandler Bing, by the way."
They shook hands. Joey eyed the still uneaten piece of pie.
"Are you really gonna leave without eating that?"
Chandler looked to the table where his "friends" were too busy guffawing and pointing at him to notice he'd left his apple pie untouched.
"Is that why you introduced yourself to me?" Chandler asked, incredulous. "You want my pie?"
Joey had the decency to look uncomfortable. "Well, it's a perfectly good piece, and if you're not going to eat it..."
"Go ahead," Chandler said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Eat the damn piece of pie. What do I care?"
"Thanks, man. Oh, and hey, if you ever want to sit with someone who won't point and laugh at you, come to my table. My friend Phoebe sings here, and I usually come with her, so..."
"Do you go to NYU?" Chandler asked.
"No, not me." Joey straightened his stance and smiled confidently. "I'm going to be an actor."
"Oh, okay," Chandler said, trying not to laugh or sound cynical. "Well, hey, good luck with that."
*~*
"I think my family's home," Rachel said.
She peered out her window and saw the headlights of her father's Mercedes as he pulled into the driveway.
"Yep, they're here."
Rachel and Monica, now dressed for bed, pulled on their robes and headed downstairs to greet the Greens. What they didn't expect to encounter was their fury.
"Rachel Karen Green," her mother said, after sending her two younger daughters upstairs, "you have a lot of explaining to do, young lady."
"Mom, wha-what's going on?"
"You put us in a terrible position tonight. We ran into Monica's parents who thought their daughter had been staying with us. We didn't even know she would be here tonight! How could you have lied to your parents, Monica, and Rachel, how could you have covered for her?"
"I'm sorry, Mom, but Monica had something really important she needed to do."
"That involved you and lying?" her father demanded.
"Monica, you get on that phone right now and call your parents. They are worried sick about you. Tell them we will drive you home immediately. Rachel, we will discuss your punishment when we return."
"I'm so sorry," Monica said, practically in tears.
"Call your parents!" Mr. and Mrs. Green yelled simultaneously.
Monica heard the disgust in her mother's voice and squeezed her eyes shut as she recoiled from the tongue lashing. She knew it was going to be a long night.
"I'm so sorry, Rach," Monica said over and over again, as she dressed in the bedroom. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I'll make it up to you. I swear I will."
"My parents are furious," Rachel said miserably. "I hope they don't ban me from the malls!"
"Think of something you want, and I'll do it for you. I promise I will. I'm sorry."
*~*
Monica could not look at her parents as she trudged, despondent, into her house. Her mother ordered her to sit on the sofa in the living room.
"Tell us where you've been the last two days," her father said, his voice stern. "And don't you leave out a single detail, missy."
"I went to see Ross at NYU," Monica said, her voice small.
"What?!" her parents yelled.
"See," Monica said, looking at them for the first time, "I knew you wouldn't let me go, so I had to sneak around to do it."
"What is wrong with you?" her mother demanded. "If you wanted to see Ross, all you had to do was ask. We would've taken you."
"But I wanted to do it on my own! I'm eighteen. I'm not a baby. I can do things by myself!"
"And you sure did this one the mature way," her mother sneered.
"We realize you're not a baby," her father said, "but when you pull stunts like this, Monica, how can you expect your mother and me to treat you like an adult?"
Monica looked away. She knew they were right, but she didn't want to think about it.
"Answer your father!" her mother yelled, her patience gone.
"I know I messed up," she finally said, her voice trembling.
"And you got your good friend Rachel in trouble, too," Judy added. "I don't understand you sometimes, Monica, I really don't."
"Sometimes?!" Monica cried. "How about never!"
"Listen, young lady," Jack said, shaking his index finger at his daughter. "Don't you talk to your mother like that in that tone of voice."
"I had something really important I wanted to talk to Ross about. I didn't go there just to fool around!"
"You should have come to us," Jack said.
As soon as they started taking turns lecturing her, Monica tuned them out. She let her mind wander to the time she had spent with Chandler. As she heard her car and mall privileges being revoked, she asked herself if it had been worth it. Reliving their last kiss in her mind's eye, she knew it had been. She couldn't help but smile inwardly even as it sounded like her parents were punishing her into the next century.
*~*
"Did you talk to him?" Phoebe, a quirky blonde, asked Joey, as they sat on the sofa in Central Perk sipping coffee after she had sung and played her guitar for the patrons.
"Briefly."
"What's his name?"
"Chandler Bing."
Phoebe mulled the name over. "Kinda unusual, but that's okay. What else did you find out?"
"Apparently, he was forced to be with some loser fat chick," Joey said. "Man, his friends were giving him a hard time."
He grinned as he recalled the fast and furious quips being thrown Chandler's way.
"So, you don't think he's seeing anyone?"
Joey shrugged. "Didn't sound like it to me."
"Then," Phoebe asked, her hazel eyes lighting up, "you think I might have a chance with him?"
"Pheebs, after what I heard his friends say about that chick he was with, how could he not want to be seen with someone as beautiful as you?"