By Jaded (opheliadrowning@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Decisions are finally made.
A/N: So sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out. And saying this, although it's not necessary, it wouldn't be a bad idea to revisits chapter 7 and 8 for a little refresher to make this chapter flow better.
Chapter Nine: None of the AboveHyde woke up earlier than normal the next morning. Used to sleeping in the basement, he was unhappily roused from sleep by the sunlight streaming through the windows of the Burkhart house. He sat up and rubbed his face with his hands. Some of the throw pillows were at his feet. He must have kicked them off in the middle of the night.
For a moment as he sat there, he wondered where he was again, if this had been another one of those nights with another one of those girls. But it only took a second for him to remember that it was none of the above. Waking up alone and fully dressed on the couch, it was for sure not "another one of those nights," and the girl had been not just any girl. Hyde turned around and looked at the staircase leading upstairs. He wondered if she was still asleep. He wondered if she had been able to sleep at all.
Hyde got up and walked into the first floor bathroom. Pale morning light streamed through the small frosted window in the bathroom, and it made the stark white room look even colder than it really was. Hyde shivered, rubbing his forearms to get some warmth back into his body. This was where Jackie lived, he thought, where she lived now, all alone. He turned on the faucet and splashed some water of his face, blinking the water out of his eyes as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror.
His normal routine after waking up in a strange house was to leave as quickly as possible, often times before the girl woke up. It had always worked best that way, and usually there were no hard feelings because the conditions had been understood the night before. But this was Jackie Burkhart and no such rules applied to her. She could've been from Neptune for what it was worth.
She'd freak-out if he left, but maybe he was underestimating her—or rather, overestimating his importance in her life—in her orbit.
Why does she do this to me? he thought, slamming a fist against the porcelain sink. He winced in pain.
Hyde left the bathroom holding his hand and swearing underneath this breath and began making his way up the stairs to the second floor, trying hard not to think about what he was doing and especially why he was doing it.
It wasn't difficult finding Jackie's room. The giant purple poster of the unicorn and the name plate that said "Princess" were dead give-aways, but as he stood before her bedroom door he felt himself hesitating. Did he want to really go in there? Or more importantly, should he? But the sheer fact that he was standing there answered his first question.
Jackie's bedroom. Bedrooms implied a lot of things. Naked things in a lot of cases, and naked often meant sex—or vulnerability—and either option made Hyde a little uneasy because both cases involved Jackie. His brain went into sudden overload. A hot girl—possibly not fully dressed—was a good thing. It was not a bad thing, yet…yet.
He had to stop thinking about it. Pushing his thoughts aside he grabbed the doorknob, twisted it and entered.
Jackie was still asleep. Hyde breathed a sigh of relief and began to backtrack.
"Steven?" Her voice was sleepy and soft.
Hyde swore under his breath. Okay, so she wasn't as asleep as he might have thought.
"Um, hey."
Jackie stirred in bed, still mostly snuggled underneath her sheets. She made a little noise like a purr. Hyde swallowed, scratched the back of his neck and did not move from his spot.
Jackie reached out an arm towards him, and then pulled it back quickly. "Oh, it's so cold," she said and dug herself further into the warm cocoon of her bed.
Hyde felt his breath catch in his throat. He could only see the top of her head, the soft halo of her hair. He took a step forward. He wanted to get into that bed with her, keep her warm, relive the night before, but he stopped. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. He sensed a pattern was developing to their relationship.
Relationship. The word made him start. When had this become a relationship?
"Steven?" she said again.
Jackie was sitting up in bed now. She had propped herself up against a mess of pillows like some princess. Her hair was out of place and for some reason that made him smile.
"Yeah. I'm still here."
"I can see that."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Good morning to you too, sweetheart."
It was the wrong thing to say, so it seemed. Jackie's face froze and she began to stutter.
Hyde put a hand out to stop her. "Look, I'm sorry—"
"About what," she said quickly. "Sorry about what? Nothing to be sorry about—"
"Jackie."
Jackie threw her hair back behind her shoulder and took a big breath. "Look. Steven. I just—about last night--"
Hyde walked over and sat down on the edge of her bed, his back to her. "Yeah, about that, Jackie. Look. . ."
"Steven."
"…I know that what happened. . ."
"Steven."
". . . probably shouldn't have happened . . ."
"STEVEN! I'm talking here!"
Hyde stopped and turned around to look at her bossy face. She had her hands out and was rolling her eyes at him. He stared at her in disbelief.
"AS I was trying to say, Steven…thank you."
Hyde stared at her. He could see a few small freckles by her nose that he had never noticed before. He thought she must have scrubbed her face clean of make-up last night. He liked the look on her and couldn't help but think that this was something he could get used to seeing.
On impulse he touched her cheek and leaned in and gave her a quick, soft kiss on the mouth. Her lips were still warm from sleep. He pulled back, surprised at himself, and waited to see her reaction.
Morning, it would seem, was their time. Jackie spared no confused glance, no searching look. Her arms were around his neck and her mouth found his as though it knew no other place to be. She didn't seem very sleepy anymore.
Hyde let himself linger there for a moment because he knew that any second he would stop. He hadn't forgotten what he had said to her last night, but he also didn't want to forget what it was like being with her, kissing her, holding her close and how the entire time he'd feel sick and dizzy and exhilarated.
But it was she who pulled away first. Jackie pressed her forehead against his and opened her eyes. One blue. One green.
"This is where you leave, isn't it?" she said quietly, already sure of his answer.
Hyde dropped his arms and pushed himself off the bed. He got to his feet and looked around the room, then back at Jackie. "Yeah. I guess so."
She nodded and turned her head away to look at the window as Hyde left the room. The sun was up and the sky was bright, but no birds sang. It was the middle of winter.
***
Jackie stayed in bed until past eleven o'clock. She could stay in bed as long as she wanted. She could stay in bed until next week if she felt so inclined, but she didn't. There was just nobody to stop her or anyone to tell her what to do. She had to take care of herself now. She had to make decisions beyond that of choosing a brand of conditioner, as important as that was.
It had been a strange few months but she wouldn't have done anything to take them back. Not the time she has spent with Steven at least, even the painful ones when he hurt her—or when she hurt him. She wouldn't take them back, not even if she had been given the chance to meet Donnie Osmond and do her hair with Marie.
But nothing short of serious head trauma could take that away from her. It was the future that was uncertain and with every passing day it was becoming more obvious to Jackie that she had to make some decisions about who she wanted in her life and how she wanted them if she wanted them at all.
Jackie threw on her bathrobe and headed downstairs to get a late breakfast. When she hit the cold tiles of kitchen she regretted her decision not to wear socks or slippers but it wasn't enough to make her turn around.
There wasn't a whole lot to eat. Sure, there were some eggs, some sausage, but Jackie Burkhart did not do cooking. Instead she found a box of slightly stale cereal and the milk in the fridge hadn't yet expired. She filled her bowl up and without putting anything away began to head back to her room for breakfast in bed.
But in the living room she stopped. There were sofa cushions on the floor. One of the throw pillows had fallen behind the sofa back, and there was a blanket draped over the sofa's left armrest. Jackie stared. Steven slept there last night, she thought. He stayed. Then she could not help but wonder, did Michael even notice that I left the party?
Wouldn't a proper boyfriend have first of all, stayed with their girlfriend? And if they hadn't, wouldn't they, after a few hours, notice that she was gone and at least tried calling to find her?
Jackie walked over and placed her bowl of cereal on top of the grand piano. She sat down on the bench seat and played a few keys. It was out of tune.
Jackie thought about what Steven had said to her a few weeks ago, about how, if she stayed with Michael, she'd only be biding her time before he screwed up and cheated on her, that at some point the other shoe would drop and their relationship would go to hell like it had so many times before. Was this the shoe, Michael forgetting her, probably at the party making out with Pam Macy for the one hundredth time?
She didn't know but was suspecting just as bad? Absently, she reached out and took a bite of cereal. Milk dripped on the polished black wood and Jackie didn't bother wiping it up.
She couldn't deny that there was attraction, that there were feelings between them, but the problem was that it didn't feel right anymore. Where Michael Kelso was concerned there had always been a Jackie Burkhart. She knew that no matter what there would always be a part of Michael that would want her and that there would be a part of her that would crave his desire. Jackie and Kelso. They were a lot like death and taxes: Inevitable, unpleasant, but always a constant variable. But Jackie hated math. She sighed and pushed her breakfast away. Apparently she was only as good at love as she was at math: middling at best. She apparently couldn't figure out where Steven fit into the equation. She kissed him, he left. He kissed her, she ran away. She yelled at him, he came back. It was difficult enough trying to figure out what she wanted, but what he wanted? With Michael, at least she knew, but was that good enough?
Jackie could hear the grandfather clock ticking, a mournful sound. She wanted to smash its face and make it stop. Jackie suddenly started. Make it stop. It was an epiphany, like when she had first discovered make-up.
Jackie ran up the stairs. She suddenly had to be somewhere.
***
"Kelso."
Eric had cracked an hour ago. Fez probably would've cracked in about thirty-seconds but he was out with his girlfriend, Nina, and therefore, was uncrackable. Hyde was still holding out, though barely.
"Kelso! Quit it!"
"I caaaaaan't!"
Hyde finally had enough. It was one wail too many. He planted one of his feet on the cement floor of the basement and with the other one slammed his other booted foot into the sofa. The whimpering mass of flesh at the end of the couch shrieked between sobs.
"Kelso, either shut up or tell us what's wrong and get it over with!" Hyde folded his arms over his chest and tried to get his focus back on TV where it belonged.
Eric shook his head in disgust. "What, did Jackie dump you again, man?"
Kelso's silence spoke for him.
Hyde got quickly out of his seat. "Did you cheat on her again, Kelso?" There was an edge to his voice that wavered dangerously on caring but he didn't try to hide it. If they noticed, they noticed. If they didn't fine. Whatever. Hyde leaned over and frogged Kelso on the shoulder.
"Damn, Hyde! I didn't do nothing! I didn't cheat on her!"
"Then why did she break up with you?"
Kelso let out a wet sob. "I don't know!" he moaned. "Yesterday she just called me and said we had to talk." Kelso took a deep breath and tried to unroll from fetal position. "I thought she wanted to make out, or you know, talk about how good looking we were, but she was all serious and stuff when I met up with her."
Hyde let Kelso compose himself a little more and watched him as his friend tried to find the words. Hyde tried to ignore the fact that Eric wasn't watching Kelso but watching him, his eyebrow cocked, his lips quirked in a strange smile.
"Jackie was all like, 'it's not you, it's me.' I mean, what is that, man? Then she started talking about how we weren't going to last, how we we're 'right' for one another. Whatever. I mean, we're totally hot together and we're good at doing it and making out, what more do you need in a relationship?" Kelso started hyperventilated into his hand. He looked up at Hyde, his eyes swimmy with tears. "I gotta get her back, Hyde. I just gotta."
The words came out of his mouth before he could give them a second thought. "Why?"
Kelso's expression was blank and his mouth froze as it tried to form a sentence.
"Why?" Hyde pressed, his heart racing in his chest. He swore underneath his breath.
"Because—" Kelso looked at Eric for help, but Eric shrugged. "Damn, Hyde! Because! She's Jackie and I'm Kelso and we're like, in love or something. We just belong together, okay?"
Or something, Hyde thought to himself.
"Why do you have to ask me hard questions, Hyde? Can't you see that I'm hurting inside. Don't make me think too! I can only hurt in so many parts of my body at the same time."
Hyde paced over to the washer and dryer and leaned up against it. His stomach was tied all up in knots and he couldn't make the feeling go away. He couldn't stop thinking about Jackie. The problem was he didn't know what to think about her.
With most girls he didn't think because he didn't have to. He just did. It worked out that way, no strings tied, no emotions attached, but he knew he was already long past that point and there was no going back. Jackie wasn't just any girl, and she wasn't just a person to him. She was just Jackie if it was possible for her to be "just" anything.
Kelso sniffled and began talking again. "I have to win her back." He looked up at Hyde and Eric, his face hopeful. "You know what? I totally have a plan."
"Does this somehow involve special brownies and a giant butterfly net?" Eric asked.
"What? No," Kelso said, waving it off. Then he paused. "You know that's not such a--"
"Kelso," Hyde barked.
"Right." Kelso wiped his snotty nose on the sleeve of his shirt. "Jackie's birthday is coming up, and what does Jackie like more in the world than presents? Oh man!" Kelso jumped up from his seat. "We're so going to get back together! I'll get her the perfect present and she'll fall right back into these strong arms of mine! It's fool-proof!"
"That's good for you then, isn't it, Kelso?" Eric said, giggling.
"Isn't it?" Kelso said admirably. "Oh man, I gotta go then, don't I?"
Hyde sat back down in his chair and readjusted his sunglasses. He propped his feet back up on the chair and folded his arms together, focusing all his attention back on the rerun of "I Love Lucy" that was playing. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Kelso run out of the door and into the snow.
"How long before he realizes he's forgotten his shoes?" Eric sniggered.
Hyde looked up at Eric, his mouth dry. "Uh, uh." Hyde blinked hard and shook his head to clear his mind. "Yeah, he forgot his shoes," he said, not answering Eric's question. Hyde stood up. "Maybe I should take them to him."
"What? And miss out on an opportunity to burn Kelso? Who are you, and what have you done with the real Steven Hyde?" Eric laughed again, immensely pleased with himself.
"Good point," he said, heading toward the door.
"Hey!" Eric called. "Aren't you going to go bury them or something? That would be pretty funny."
But Hyde was already out the door.
***
"I can't believe you broke up with Kelso." Donna traced a finger over the pattern of Jackie's bedspread. "I guess Kelso's really history for you. I never thought that'd happen unless you met someone else." Donna's finger suddenly stopped running over the floral pattern of the comforter. "Oh my god. You met someone else!"
Jackie had been empty her "Michael" box. She chucked the stupid rubber chicken into the garbage, a momento of their first year anniversary.
"What? That's crazy talk, Donna. You're crazy!"
Donna looked skeptical. She waggled her eyebrows at Jackie. "C'mon, Jackie, who is it? I was gone all summer long. Was it some guy you met over the summer? Oh, was it forbidden love?" For someone who dressed like a lumberjack, Donna sometimes surprised Jackie with her more romantic notions.
"It's not like that," Jackie said, and it wasn't. She had made the decision the day after the party that Michael, sweet, stupid, sometimes thoughtless Michael, just wasn't right for her anymore, and she wasn't right for him. She also told herself this wasn't because of Steven. Not entirely at least.
Her mother was missing in action. Her father was in prison. It didn't feel right for her anymore to act like a child, and part of her childhood had Michael tied up in it like knots and Chinese finger traps. Not just because they had started dating when she was so young, but that how she thought of him—this beautiful, romantic idea of what love was, how a couple behaved—everything, that wasn't her anymore. She didn't want to be that girl anymore, and she didn't think that she could be a grown-up Jackie if she stayed with him.
Jackie shrugged and lobbed a superball into the garbage. God, how she hated things that bounced. "I just decided that it was a bad idea to get back together with Michael, that's all, Donna. So I broke up with him before either of us could get too hurt."
"Wow, Jackie. That's a really mature thing for you to do. What's happened to you?"
What? Jackie thought. And who.
"Anyway," Donna continued when she realized that she wasn't going to get an answer, "I have to go meet up with Eric soon, but don't think I forgot."
Jackie looked up. "Forgot what?"
Donna gave her an odd look, like Jackie had just declared that her dream was no longer to be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader, bur rather, a Dallas Cowboys linebacker.
"Your birthday?"
Jackie sputtered. Was it already her birthday? She couldn't believe she had forgotten it herself. Neither could Donna.
"I guess with my parents gone and this thing with Michael…"
"Yeah. So uh, I got you something." Donna reached down into her purse and pulled out a square package wrapped in shiny blue paper. Jackie squealed. Sure, she was more grown up in some ways and in other ways was no longer like a child, but she hadn't changed completely.
"Oh, give me!" Jackie tore the gift out of Donna's hand and ripped off the wrapping. "I hope it's a—book?" In her hand Jackie held a copy of The Feminine Mystique. Was Donna trying to say that she didn't she was feminine enough? "Uh, thanks, Donna. That's really sweet of you. And if you want to borrow this any time, don't be afraid to ask. I think you might need this more than me."
Donna gave her another weird look. "I got you something else too, Jackie, don't worry. But really, read it some time. I think the new, grown-up Jackie might appreciate it."
"Sure, sure. Now you said other present?"
Donna held out another package, a smaller one. Jackie took it more gingerly this time and unwrapped it slowly, more ladylike, and she was rewarded for her efforts. Inside a small gray box was a pair of sparkly blue earrings. In the light, the colors danced like moonlight on snow. Jackie threw her arms around her best friend and hugged her tightly.
"Thank you," she said, and she really meant it.
Donna left, but ten minutes after she had gone the doorbell rang. Jackie ran to open the door, wondering why her friend had come back. Honestly, she thought, she couldn't have forgotten her mittens or anything. They were huge! How could anyone miss those?
But Donna wasn't at the door. It was Michael, his cheeks rosy pink from cold. He held in his hand a large package. It seemed like she was the only one that had forgotten her birthday. Jackie shuffled her feet and finally, asked him to come in.
"What do you want, Michael?"
"What? Can't I just come over and give my best girl her birthday present?"
"I'm not your girl anymore, Michael."
He seemed to ignore her comment and pressed on. "I just want to make you happy, Jackie."
"Michael, a present isn't going to make me get back together with you."
"I'm not trying anything," he said, but Jackie didn't believe him. He had that look in his eye which either meant he was up to something, or else he had just swallowed something alive.
"I don't think this is a good idea, Michael. I don't want you to get any ideas if I take this."
"Jackie! Since when do I get ideas?"
"If I take this," she began slowly, "will you accept the fact that I'm only taking this as your friend?"
"Yeah, Jackie. But wait until you see it!"
"Michael!"
"I mean--"
"Michael, just stop, okay?" Jackie sighed and sat down, placing the package on her lap. He followed suit and sat down next to her. She ripped the paper down the side and it opened up into a shirt box. She lifted the top and revealed a fuzzy pink sweater.
"Oh," she breathed. She could never resist anything pink and fuzzy. "It's beautiful, Michael. Thank you."
He grinned and shrugged sheepishly. "It's hot, isn't it?"
"Sure, Michael."
"Hot enough that you'll unbreak-up with me?" He leaned over and tried to kiss her. She shoved him away.
"Michael!"
"Damn! You can't blame me for trying."
"Yes I can!" Jackie pushed the sweater back into his arms. She didn't want to part with it, but it was the idea of it. "You need to leave now, Michael, before I get angry."
"Jackie!"
"What did I say, Michael? You can't do this. It's not going to work. I'm not going to unbreak-up with you!"
"But."
"No!"
"Well at least take the sweater then," he said as she pushed him closer to the front door.
"I said no!"
"You have to. I can't return it. I stole it."
"Oh god, Michael. Leave," she said. "Now!" Jackie pushed him out the front door and then threw the sweater after him. She slammed the door before he could say anything more.
Jackie stormed upstairs to her bed room and went directly to her Michael box. She grabbed and headed over to the wastebasket in her room and dumped the contents directly into the trash. She was so done with him.
And she was so done with him five minutes later when she heard the doorbell ring again.
"Leave me alone!" she yelled down the stairs. The doorbell rang again. Jackie refused to open it. It rang one more time, more insistently than before, and Jackie wanting him to just stop, ran down the stairs to tell him off one more time. Michael was so like that. You had to tell him things at least three times before he listened or got the point.
Throwing the door open, Jackie was surprised to see no one there. Had he given up and gone home? That was unlike him. She took a step outside in her bare feet and almost fell over. She looked down. There was a box on the doorstep, wet with snow. It was wrapped in brown paper and there was no note attached to it. She picked it up and then looked around to see if the mailman had come, if anyone was around, but the streets were quiet. It was just her.
Closing the door behind her she went into the living room again and sat down on the sofa. Putting the box on the table she stared at it for a full minute before opening it. It briefly occurred to her that it could very possibly be a bomb, but noticing no ticking she went ahead and opened it, thought carefully.
Inside, the contents were wrapped in white tissue paper. On top, a note. Jackie felt her legs tingle, and for some reason, she could feel her heart fluttering into her throat. She picked up the paper and glanced around before reading it, as though she expected someone else to be there with her.
Unfolding it, she read the message printed out in block letters: "JUST SO YOU KNOW."
Everything started to make sense then, but then not make sense because there, beneath the folds of soft tissue paper, there were shoes.
[end chapter nine]