Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

Author's Note: This story was written for the 2022 Zenmasters Anthology on tumblr.

CHAPTER ONE
EXIT RAMP

Hyde stood on Melissa's driveway, clothed in his plaid wool coat and wool mittens. The November air was frigid. The sky was clear blue, but the shining sun gave as little warmth as the girl in front of him. A perfect day for a break up.

Melissa looked at him expectantly. Her lips were slightly pursed, ready to unleash a cutting response to what he might say. No denying she was damn beautiful, brown skin glowing like burnished bronze in the sunlight. Her expressive face revealed every emotion, however slight. He never had to guess how she felt. Opposite of the impassivity he'd trained into himself for survival, usually assisted by the shades stashed in his coat pocket.

No denying she was smarter than him, either. She had a clever counterargument for any point he made. A gripe for each flaw she found in him.

And no denying anymore he wasn't in love with her. Donna and Forman's dueling stories in the school paper brought that home to him yesterday. Squabbling was all they had left after two years of dating and seventeen years of friendship. Squabbling was mostly what Hyde and Melissa ever did, and they'd been together less than two months.

"You're a great chick," he said, and her lips pressed together harder, pushing blood and color from them, "but I'm not the right guy for you."

"Why?" Blood returned to her lips, brightening them, and her eyes reflected the confusion in her voice.

He'd enjoyed gazing at those eyes when he got her to laugh. Or just before she'd kiss him. Her expression was soft then, full of a joy he craved to see. His first girlfriend, and they hadn't even screwed yet. She drew the line at sex, a boundary he respected. Any man worth the title would.

"You need someone you don't have to carve into your ideal boyfriend." He pinched the top of his freezing ears. Should have worn earmuffs, but Melissa might've accused him of not listening. "Someone who's already there. I'm not that guy."

She tilted her head, a sign she was considering his words. She played with the fringe of her scarf and said, "You have been a lot of work."

"There ya go."

At the start of their relationship, challenging her had been impossible. He was on autopilot. Bud had run off again, making him fatherless and essentially homeless. Vulnerable. Melissa knew it and used his fear of losing her, too. Withdrew emotionally if he spoke wrong, canceled or put off dates until he behaved exactly "right".

Then the Formans caught him crashing in their basement. They welcomed him back without hassle, and his mind reset. That began the trouble between him and Melissa.

Wind swept through her driveway, shaking the leafless trees lining the streets. His exposed cheeks burned with the chill. His pale skin must have turned pink, and she caressed the side of his face with her gloved hand. "But you're hot and funny and kind," she said, "when your head's not up your ass."

"Are you cool with this?" He flinched as his own question. He was asking permission to break up with her.

She pulled her hand from his cheek. "You trying to be nice about dumping me? Oh, yeah. Real cool."

"Trying?" His stomach squirmed. "Breaking up ain't a day at Funland."

"You've never done it before, so how would you know?"

He scratched the back of neck, but his fingers were too protected by his mitten to be effective. "This is exactly why I'm not the right guy for you. Everything I say, how I say it, bugs the hell out of you."

"You're dumping me! Of course it bugs the hell out of me, especially because of the bullshit reason you're giving me."

"It's not bullshit." A relatively painless split had been his goal, but disapproval radiated off her body. He'd witnessed the blinds drop over her eyes often, the stiff posture, the distance she put between them without moving an inch. His heart pounded faster. He sweated under his wool coat. He was afraid, freakin' afraid, despite that he was the one ending the relationship.

"Truth is," he said, "I don't get why you agreed to date me. My 'lack of etiquette' ticked you off the night Donna introduced us. Then I went through some personal crap. Messed up my skull, but that's the me you got along with best. Once I was back to normal, bickering became our normal. We can't seem to stop. Is that what you really want for yourself?"

Her gaze lowered to the concrete of the driveway. "No."

"If it'd make you feel better, I'll take back breaking up with you, and you can dump me."

She looked at him, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. "It would, actually."

"Good."

"Steven, I had fun during the fun parts." She rubbed his arm, and the distance between them narrowed. "I hope you did, too."

"Yup."

"That's all?"

"Nope."

Melissa yanked the zipper of her jacket the quarter inch higher it could go. "See, this is why I had to ride you so hard … and don't smirk. I didn't mean anything lewd."

His smirk turned into a grin. "I know."

He walked toward his car, parked a few feet from where he'd been standing. She called after him, "I agreed to go out with you because I saw you could change."

The muscles in his shoulders tightened, and he took off a mitten. His instinct was to flip her off, but he'd been the fool, infatuation overwhelming his common sense. He should've realized from the get-go they were wrong for each other.

She deserved a better final goodbye than the bird, so he saluted her with two fingers at his forehead. A respectful farewell.

The Camino's driver-side door opened with a comforting click, and he glanced at the cloudless sky. A sense of freedom flowed through him. But he wouldn't be completely free until he got another girl out of his system, one who felt zilch for him.

The following Saturday, Forman cornered Hyde in the basement. His arms were stretched out, hands gripping Hyde's door frame. Hyde was supposed to meet Fez and Leo at the mall. Leo had, unbelievably, inherited a million bucks from a dead uncle. Hyde and Fez were going to help him spend it—a well-timed distraction from Hyde's recent breakup and other shit—but Forman wouldn't let him leave his room.

"You got two seconds to move it."

"I need you to mess with Jackie and Kelso's relationship," Forman said. "You know, like you used to do for kicks."

Hyde's arms fell limply at his sides. "I'm gonna regret asking, but what for?"

"To break Kelso's confidence so he'll botch PriceMart's industrial film." Forman let go of the door rest and thrust his thumb at himself. "And who'll be waiting in the wings but the young man who's been Red's dependable, worthy worker and son."

A tempting cause. Jackie's fawning support of Kelso the last few days was nauseating, especially since Kelso's acting talent consisted of aping a third-rate actor.

"Can't do it, man," Hyde said and pushed passed Forman. He got as far as the shower, where Forman grasped his short sleeve.

"Why not?"

"I messed with Kelso while he was cheating on Jackie," and later when Hyde thought Kelso might hurt her again, but ... "They're happy now. Not my place to take that from 'em."

"What about my happiness?"

"Relax, Forman. Kelso'll screw this up on his own. He's Kelso."

Forman sucked in a breath, and the basement's lights glinted in his wide eyes. "That's right—he's Kelso!"

Hyde slammed his fist into Forman's shoulder, a half-friendly, half-annoyed gesture. He hoped it stung. Forman's hurt ego wasn't a reason to vandalize someone else's relationship.

"See ya." Hyde snatched his wool coat from the hooks by the back door. Exited to the cold outside. As long as Kelso continued leaning into his Saturday Night Fever method of acting, Red would kick his ass off that film after the first take.

Both of Hyde's theories had been spot on. One, Red fired Kelso and replaced him with Forman for the industrial film. Forman resembled the perfect drone in the corporate hierarchy of PriceMart, sure to inspire future generations of of stock boys.

Two, Leo's million-dollar windfall was unbelievable because it wasn't real. He'd mistaken a Publisher's Clearing House sweepstakes form letter as an inheritance letter. Hyde and Fez were forced to return the clothes, candy, and miscellaneous crap Leo bought them, including Fez's parrot.

Wins and losses. That was how life went, and Hyde counted on having more losses than wins. Surrendering wasn't in his nature, though. He kept fighting for better, and it pissed him off.

Hyde barely gave Melissa, and their relationship, any mind by Christmas week. That bruise had yellowed fast, but he focused on Jackie whenever they were in the same room. His gaze, his thoughts, his feelings swarmed to her. He'd flick them away only for them to reappear in seconds.

Moments ago in the church auditorium, Pastor Dave announced he'd fired Forman from directing the Christmas pageant. Forman was absent, but in retaliation, Hyde, Jackie, and their friends decked Pastor Dave in Christmas lights from neck to ankles. He couldn't move his arms or legs or stand from the chair he was bound on.

"Whoa, dudes. What'd you do, man?" That was from Leo, who strode across the auditorium. Hyde was about to plug in Dave's lights, but Leo didn't laugh. He chastised Hyde and the rest of them about what they'd done to Dave—and for disrespecting Forman during the Christmas pageant rehearsals.

Leo split from the auditorium with the speed he'd entered. Hyde dropped the plugs that would light up Dave, but the guy had earned a little payback. Forman's crime was trying to keep his friends in line for the pageant. And not stoned. Pastor Dave caught them smoking pot in church and held Forman accountable, which sucked. Another reason, among many, Hyde chose to be irreligious.

Dave was supposed to be a man of a compassionate God, but he'd offered only injustice to Forman. That bull had nothing to do with God or compassion. Hyde would do right by Forman, but Dave was being an uncompromising asshat, and—

"Michael, those shows are for babies!" Jackie said. She and Kelso were arguing behind Hyde, and he scowled at them. So much for cramming his mind with non-Jackie subjects.

Watching Rudolph was for babies, but she and Kelso didn't have to do every damn thing together. Or like every damn thing the other liked. Accepting Jackie's rejection of his idea would've for the best, but Kelso wouldn't let up. She pushed back, nastier than she had to, and he bolted from the auditorium.

Colorful lights decorated the church windows, a Christmas tree nearby, and Dave—albeit his were unlit. The night had the potential to be a festive one, full of naughty-bad fun. But it was a tough sell without Forman and Kelso around.

Hyde swiped a roll of gift wrap from a pile against the wall. Donna and Fez wanted to find Forman, but Hyde said, "Or we could stay here and wrap Dave."

His left arm grew warm. Jackie was standing beside him, grinning, while Donna and Fez both responded to his suggestion with annoyed stares.

"Come on." Hyde raised the roll of gift wrap as an enticement. Jackie nodded in approval, but Donna and Fez followed Kelso's path out of the auditorium. "Jackie?" Hyde said.

She shrugged, as if apologizing, and also went. Hyde planned on going with her, but Pastor Dave called him back. Hyde obliged, physically. His thoughts remained with Jackie as he plugged in the Christmas lights holding Dave prisoner.

Later that night, everyone involved in the Christmas pageant gathered in the Formans' driveway. With some cajoling, they convinced Forman to return as director. The clincher had been giving him the present he believed he wouldn't get this year: a cassette deck for the Vista Cruiser.

Kelso was carrying Jackie piggyback with Hyde behind them. They'd clearly gotten over their Rudolph argument. The fight might've indicated bigger relationship problems, but that was irrelevant. If Jackie and Kelso broke up, she wouldn't be interested in Hyde anyway.

And Hyde wouldn't pursue a girl who had no interest in him. Disrespect was scuttling through his life like roaches. Forman to Donna; Donna to Forman. Jackie to Kelso. Hyde to himself through his relationship with Melissa. Half a dozen people to Forman this week.

That shit ended tonight. From Hyde, at least.

Friends were hard to come by, and he'd been lucky not to lose his two best ones. Chasing Donna when she continually rejected him for Forman was freakish. Hyde had learned from his years' old mistakes, but shame was a dependable reminder.

Jackie would date him only through a quirk of the cosmos. Still, they'd have to change too much of themselves to work, and he'd been through his half of that torture with Melissa.

Fake snow blew from Bob's snow machine next door. Flakes of it landed in Hyde's hair, and he brushed them off. His love for Jackie should've been as simple to get rid of. Its birth was an accident. Its death, sentenced by the kiss he and Jackie shared at Inspiration Point. But it wouldn't quit growing.