Woowww... I don't think I've ever had this many reviews on the first two chapters before. Usually I get on average about three reviews per chapter, but now I've already got 14 on the first two! I love you guys. I also wanna quickly say thank you for your great feedback. This is kinda based on something a friend went through, and I want you to know (as I have read these reviews and I take into account what you say) that if you ever wanna chat about anything, just email me. It's also kinda based on my life too, so I'm not completely useless if you want to talk to me. Seriously. I mean it. I'm not just being... can't think of the word, but basically, yeah, email me. And if you just want to talk about anything, please email me. I don't bite... not anymore... anyway, sorry for the long A/N, I'm just a little worried about some people. Please keep reviewing, o faithful review-people. And tell a friend! Lilian xXx
"This swing taken?"
Drops of rain had begun to fall, and, feeling the cold suddenly, Monica shivered before shrugging. "No," she said shortly, but, Chandler thought to himself, at least she hadn't bitten his head off.
Both were silent for a few minutes, before Monica threw a quick glance at him. He looked vaguely familiar to her, and she struggled to recollect where she knew him from. Her silent questions were answered as Chandler looked at her, and asked with a warm smile "You're Monica, right? I'm Chandler... Ross's friend."
Monica smiled to herself as she recognised the friendly face she'd seen around the house. Lately though, he'd seemed depressed, but she couldn't ask him why. It wasn't as if he was her friend to ask. Why should she care about her brother's best friend, companion? It was none of her business. This had been impressed on her from an early age, or so it seemed. Nothing was her business, unless it was told to her. Don't ask questions, and you'll be told no lies. It was a common saying around her house, and Monica had grown used to it.
"Hey," she said quietly. "What brings you here? Do you often come here to swing by yourself? I never see you."
Chandler looked away, not wanting to answer, and Monica decided that she had broken a rule, questioning someone she barely knew, about something she didn't need to know about. If Ross ever found out... she would get into major trouble with her parents.
"Sorry," she muttered, kicking a piece of dirt beneath her feet angrily. "It's not my business. I shouldn't have asked."
He turned back round, trying to smile. "No, it's okay," he reassured her. "My parents... they had a fight."
Monica's eyebrows raised alarmingly. "Your parents? Really? Ross is always going on about how wonderful they are, how free and easy with each other, never have a problem..." She died away as she saw Chandler's face fall, remembering, realising.
"Yeah. Maybe that's why it happened," he said gruffly, and stood up. He didn't know why, but suddenly he felt he could tell this girl anything. He barely knew her, yet something inside her made him want to admit everything to her, tell her about it... and something told him that she would willingly listen, and perhaps even open up to him. It was a lot to take in for a first encounter-a proper first encounter, anyway-and Chandler was scared a little.
Similar things were going through Monica's mind. Chandler looked troubled, hurt, scared. He looked like he needed someone. And right now, she wanted to be that someone. She wanted to listen to someone elses problems for a change, instead of worrying about her own. She wanted to comfort another human being, and tell them that everything was going to be alright. Even if no one would do it for her... she still had the compassion in her heart to want to help another. Maybe he would listen to her anyway...
It was silly. They barely knew each other. She shook her head in disbelief, and Chandler looked at her, a little confused. She smiled weakly at him before standing up as well. The cold had got to her and she wanted to run about and behave like a child again. All her childhood years seemed to have flown out the window since that day...No. Don't think about it. Forget it, have fun. Enjoy life. WHERE was all this positive energy coming from?
"Hey..." she said, not really sure where to start. "I know this might sound funny, but do you wanna go for a little walk somewhere? I'm kinda cold, and I don't wanna go home just yet," she admitted.
Chandler nodded. Maybe she does need someone, he thought to himself, and offered her his sweater which she refused, preferring to hug herself and do some form of light exercise instead. "Sure," he said, after his gesture had been politely turned down. "I don't really wanna go home either."
Neither of them spoke as, while the rain continued to pour, both left the playground area and walked towards the trees in the forest behind the park.
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"It's raining really heavily now," Judy said anxiously, as she dried the lunch dishes. "She's been out for over three hours. I'm starting to get worried about her."
"She'll be fine," Jack said comfortingly, as he rubbed his wife's arm. "Monica needs time alone. I can only begin to think what she's going through."
Ross grimaced as he listened to his parents worrying about their daughter. Why were they worrying so much about her? She always returned, and she always went to the same place anyway-the park, to sit on the swings. He'd watched her leave once, and he'd followed her, hiding as he went, making sure she never saw him. Maybe he should go and find her now...
"I'm going out," he said to his mom, as he flung down a dishcloth. "I won't be long."
"You too?" she asked, exasperated, but didn't stop him. "If you see your sister, tell her to come back at once. We have more things to discuss."
Ross nodded, barely hearing Judy, as he left the house and wandered slowly towards the park. Stupid Monica, getting their parents worried about her. Why did she have to become mad all of a sudden?
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"No, Chip, I can't," Rachel said, feeling herself fall to the floor, clutching the phone against her ear.
He wouldn't leave her alone. Why did he keep pestering her? What did he think she was, some kind of slut, out for what she could get? Why did people always seem to get this impression of her? Maybe it was the way she dressed... the way she did her hair, the way she flirted with anyone.
"Chip!" she said, angrily this time. "Leave me alone! I don't want to! Grr!" she finished, before slamming the phone down, and leaning against the wall as she felt tears come to her eyes. It happened more often these days. She knew she wasn't exaggerating. Everyone seemed to have the wrong idea about her. She was only 15. She hadn't even had a serious boyfriend, and already people wanted to...
"Rachel!"
Her mothers cries stopped her in her tracks, and she hastily wiped away the solitary tear from her eye and called back "Yes mom?"
"Have you done your homework yet?" her mother called.
"No mom, not yet, but I will," she replied, suddenly remembering the maths that had to be done before they returned to school.
"Well go and do it now, dear, we're going out tonight."
"Where?" asked Rachel, not noticing the "dear" that her mother used in the sentence. Pet names were few and far between these days, and sometimes Rachel wondered if her parents still loved her.
"You, me and your father have been invited out to dinner by the Gellers," Mrs Green informed her, coming into the hall. "That nice Italian place a few blocks away. Apparently Monica needs cheering up, so..."
"Are they all going?" Rachel asked, wondering if Ross would be joining them.
"I believe so. Yes, I'm pretty sure Jack's going," she replied, misunderstanding.
"No, mom... I meant Ross," Rachel said quietly.
Her mother looked at her, a smile forming on her face. "Per-leaze, Rachel. Don't tell me you like HIM now? That science geek? With his afro hair and-"
"He doesn't have afro hair anymore, mom," Rachel corrected her. "And no, I don't "like" him now. He's just good to talk to, and he makes me laugh."
Mrs Green shook her head in amazement, but shrugged. "I expect he's going," she said, turning on her heel and walking towards the kitchen. "Remember-homework!" she called back. Rachel groaned. She really wasn't in a maths mood just then.
Sighing quietly to herself, she dragged herself up the stairs and across the hallway to her room. It was a nice room, but that was all. Nice. It was pink, and for the first time Rachel felt almost blinded by the pink-ness. Pretty and pink, her parents would say. Girlie. Happy.
Suddenly, she wished her walls were black, her bedspread darker, her windows covered with dreary curtains, just so she could be different. Just so she wouldn't be the typical high school girl, flirting with everyone, being head-cheerleader. Different.
"I wish I wasn't Rachel Green!" she exclaimed suddenly, and threw herself on the bed, clinging to her pillow. Why did everyone think she was someone she wasn't? All she wanted was friends, a good social life, to be popular. If being popular meant that she would have to give in to what Chip Matthews wanted... then perhaps she didn't want to be popular at all.
Suddenly realising the possible answer to some of her problems, she lay on her back, thinking for a few minutes, before drifting off into a restless sleep, forgetting all about her homework, Monica, Ross, and Chip.
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The silence was aggravating Chandler. It wasn't so much an awkward silence as a don't-know-what-to-do-or-say silence. They had eventually found a bench and were sitting, watching families walk past them. Happy families, he thought angrily, remembering the little card game he had when he was younger. Mr. Post the Postman. Mrs. Post, the postman's wife. And there were always two children, a boy and a girl. You had to match them up, get everyone in the family, and when you did, they were complete. A happy family.
Yet in his case, it seemed as if his family would be more happy if they were apart. Why were childrens games always based around "family fun?" Family wasn't so fun, he was beginning to realise. Sometimes your family made you want to run and hide away, and forget all about it.
It was Monica who finally broke the silence, by turning to him, smiling, and saying "Hungry?"
Chandler looked at her, and shrugged. "I guess. Don't have any money though, and there's no shops around."
"Doesn't matter," Monica said, reaching for her bag which she had grabbed when she left the house. Somehow, it always seemed to be ready for when she wanted to run away for a few hours. She always prepared it in case such an event happened. That day, she had put biscuits and some crisps in the bag, and she silently offered them to Chandler.
"Wow. You had this all planned out, didn't you?" he asked her, taking a biscuit thankfully, as he was relatively hungry.
"I often run away. Just for a few hours. To clear my head," she said, also taking a biscuit and biting into it absent-mindedly. "So I always come prepared."
Chandler grinned, and Monica was surprised to see how bright his eyes were when he smiled, how they also seemed to smile along with him. But the smile was gone as soon as it appeared, and dullness crept back into his face.
Monica turned away, not really knowing what to say. For so long she had wished that she could meet someone as upset and miserable as her. Now she had, she was lost for words.
"Do you mind me asking," Chandler began, turning back to her, "why you keep running away? Are you... afraid?"
Monica looked startled. "Of what?" she asked, confused.
Chandler went red. "I don't know, exactly," he tried to explain. "Just, I read about kids running away if they're scared their parents are gonna be mad at them, or something, or be violent..." His voice trailed away as he saw Monica's face.
"I'm not a kid!" she said, annoyed. "And my parents aren't violent. They... care about me." Too much, she thought to herself, as she noted the look on Chandler's face.
"Sorry," he muttered, and she offered him another biscuit to show she wasn't mad.
"Yeah, well, maybe that's the problem," she said softly, as he took it. "Maybe they are trying to help me. Maybe they just don't understand what I've been through..."
Chandler looked up. His eyes looked soft, helpful, and worried. For some reason, he felt a wave of sympathy rush through him. This girl was trying to reach out to him. Trying to tell him something, perhaps. Even though they barely knew each other, both of them wanted to help each other. Something inside each of them knew that the other was hurting. He could tell that somewhere inside, a voice was screaming "Let me out! Let me out from this misery, let me out from the wall I've built around me. I need to confide in someone... anyone..."
"Monica..." Chandler said. "I know this sounds.. kinda weird, but, I feel like I could tell you anything."
The look on Monica's face told him she was thinking similar thoughts, and he continued. "And I hope that you feel you could tell me anything too. I mean, we've never really spoken properly... but I want you to know that I-"
What he was going to say, she never found out, for they both heard someone coughing above them. Looking up, Monica went white as she saw Ross staring down at them, a look of shock in his eye.
"So," Ross said, a smile starting to flicker on his face. "Is this why you keep coming here?"
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Odd place to leave it, I know. I'm sorry about that. I just thought it might be more interesting. I know that Rachel's problem might seem a little confusing, but it will become more clear in the next chapter. I'm not trying to make Ross out to be some evil older brother. He's just hurt that his parents SEEM to care about Monica more than him. He may be a little old to care about such things, but I think everyone feels sibling rivalry, no matter what age... I know I do sometimes. Anyway, please read and review. Your reviews have been great so far, I love you all. Lilian xXx