A/N: Sadly, the Eagles lost (were pummeled, actually) to the Stealers last Sunday. But somehow I have pulled myself out of my depression and written another chapter.
Jill – Luke is a long story and not part of this one. Let's just say that 1) his sister hates me, 2) he liked my cousin for a while, 3) after several strained conversations last year I denied having any interest whatsoever beyond friendship and 4) now we are going to colleges in different states. Life goes on. I see him during breaks and we flirt enough to make his sister hate me more. And I don't like him anymore. Just friends.
Nice story, huh?
By the way, sorry about the Chase bit in there last chapter, but don't worry! It all works out in the end (as you all know). And I do plan on making Chase slightly more likable than he appears to be at the moment. Here. Christian's in this chapter. Everyone be happy.
Also, being the review whore that I am, I always want more (hint, hint). You know what to do...
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
"I think we need to talk to West." I say. Usually I'd be the one to talk to if you want information about Christian, but since I'm apparently out of the loop, West is our next best bet. "Where is he?"
"At his apartment?" Taylor shrugs. She's all calm and serene, like she can't see what a crisis this is.
"Come on," I say, Grabbing her by the arm and basically dragging her out of Taco Bell. Taylor is smug the whole way to West's, while I'm working myself into an emotional frenzy. When we get there I whip open the door and charge inside. West is spreading cream cheese on a bagel, and raises his eyebrows when he witnesses my dramatic entrance. I head to the couch and sit down as Taylor follows me inside.
"Ladies," says West, wandering out to his living room. "What's going on?"
"Becka is having an emotional breakdown," says Taylor and she rolls her eyes.
"About... Chase?" West ventures cautiously.
"I am not having an 'emotional breakdown,' Taylor," I say to her, emphasizing her name for good measure. Then to West: "I am having a 'crisis.'" Now the record is set straight. "And about Christian," I further clarify.
West has been looking frightened of what was coming up to this point, but when he hears I'm only talking about Christian his face relaxes into relief. This is familiar territory. Since freshman year when we all met in Comp class, the four of us have been a sort of circle of truth. I've spent plenty of time complaining about Christian to Taylor, or about Taylor to West, or about everything else to Christian. We're all used to counting on each other like this. West sits down on the floor facing me and Taylor takes a seat beside him. I feel like I'm in therapy.
"Okay. What's the crisis?" West asks.
Taylor answers for me. "I told her I think Christian and Sophie Walker are in the process of hooking up."
"Which is ridiculous!" I burst. "Tell her it's ridiculous!"
"It's certainly an interesting speculation," West muses. I'm biting off my thumbnail. West, who along with Christian hates when I do this, hands me half of his bagel to stop me.
"Yes, but completely ridiculous," I repeat, hoping he'll just agree with me so I can be comfortable with life in general again. But he doesn't.
"I don't know, Becka. They have been seeing an awful lot of each other, now that I think about. She's around like you used to be before, well... Chase."
"But that doesn't mean anything, necessarily," I argue. "I mean, it's not like he ever wanted to date me." Ha ha ha. Good thinking, Becka. Take that Taylor.
"Right. It doesn't mean anything necessarily. But he does act like with her like he acted with you. Maybe slightly less dynamic. I think—" he pauses for a moment, then continues on a different track. "You know, he was tragically in love with you sophomore year."
"He was?" I ask like I don't believe it. Which I don't.
"He was?!" Taylor echoes.
"Sure," West says to his girlfriend. "I can't believe you missed that one. I mean, Becka generally wanders around in a state of oblivion, but it was pretty obvious."
That is so weird. Christian liked me sophomore year. But he doesn't anymore. And that is totally not the point here. "Okay, but I'm not talking about two years ago. I'm talking about now and I still don't think that proves anything about Sophie Walker."
"Why do you care so much anyway?" Taylor asks suspiciously.
Why do I care so much? "Because. I. Hate her," I answer. "West?" I plead, hoping for an answer I'm going to like.
He says, "I think you should talk to Christian."
Wrong answer. "I doubt he'll tell me anything, knowing I hate her and all."
"I think you should talk to Christian," West repeats, "for more reasons than that." He says that very seriously and we're all quiet afterwards. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to think. I don't know what I'm doing right or wrong or anything anymore.
"You know you kind of haven't been around," West adds after a moment.
I shrug. I can't argue with that. But I don't want to talk about it. "What do you think about Sophie?" I say deliberately, evenly.
West sighs, seeing that I'm not giving any. So he gives a little. "I'll say this. Either Sophie is sort of replacement you, or he does like her, or he's trying to really piss you off. But that would be pretty out of character with him, so I'd say it's either A or B."
"And I say it's B," says Taylor. I'm ready to bite her head off. The girl is not helping. But Chase sees my impending rage and interferes.
"And if he does like her, Becka, let him have that. It was bound to happen eventually—one of was going to find someone you liked better than the other. You found Chase. Maybe Christian found Sophie. It's kind of good that it happened for both of you at once. No one gets left behind."
Maybe. Depending on your definition of good, that is.
"I'll talk to Christian," I say. West is satisfied.
- - - - - - - -
Chase, Taylor and I have a study date tonight. We meet in front of Right Hall, but I decide I'm hungry, so we run to the caf for take-out. But on our way out I spot Christian. He's sitting at one of the four-person tables, the ones by the windows, buried in his calculus text book, one hand pushing the hair out of his face. Seeing him there startles me almost—he's like this familiar stranger. I nudge Taylor and gesture with my head towards him. "Let's get this over with," I say.
"Right now?" she asks, glancing meaningfully at Chase.
"Chase," I say. He's a few steps ahead and turns around. "Taylor and I have to talk to Christian real quick."
Taylor looks doubtful at the words 'real quick.' Chase looks from me to her then back to me like he's trying to figure out what's going on. I think he gets he's not invited.
"Just real quick," I repeat.
"Yeah, sure," says Chase, snapping out of it. "I wanted to talk to Amy Richards anyway, who's right there, so just come get me when you guys are done."
"Thanks," I say gratefully. "Come on," I instruct Taylor, pushing her in front of me. For some reason I'm really nervous.
Christian looks up when Taylor sets her take-out container on the spot beside him. "Hey Taylor," he says, eyes returning to his book. Then he notices another container in the spot across from him. He looks up to see me. He doesn't say anything, just looks down at his book again for a minute like he's making a decision. Then he shuts it, and looks back up.
"Beka," he says as a greeting.
"Howdy stranger!" I answer cheerfully. That's how I'm going to play this: perky and cheerful and light.
"Stranger indeed," says Christian, smiling very, very slightly—the kind of smile you don't notice unless you really know a person. I take it as encouragement and plough recklessly ahead.
"Hey," I say, keeping the laugh in my voice. "You've got nothing to complain about. I hear you've been... keeping yourself busy..." I leave that one open-ended, hoping he'll catch my meaning.
He narrows his eyes and studies me. "What are you saying Becka Hanson?" he asks suspiciously.
"Nothing," I answer with a shrug. Different attack now: "Wasn't it nice of someone to buy Sophie Walker a piano?"
"Receiving gifts is one of those love language things, you know," Taylor adds, helping me along with the interrogation.
"Mmm," I nod. "And probably Sophie's love language. Someone knows her pretty well, I'd say." I glance meaningfully at Christian. Then I ask him, "What do you think, anyway?"
"I think someone was too pleased with themselves to anticipate all the gossip that piano's been causing. Stupid thing to do, really," Christian answers.
Well, at least he's not the secret piano lover. I look at Taylor who shrugs. It still doesn't answer everything.
"She's getting enough negative attention already without the piano," Christian adds. That comment, off course, is directed towards me and I feel a sharp pang of guilt. But I press onward. Questions must be answered.
"She seems to get plenty of attention from you," I say.
Up till now I don't think he really realized what I've been driving at. Now that I've said it outright he just stares at me. Then he looks at Taylor who's looking at him the same way I am—very intently. Waiting for an answer.
"You guys are double teaming me. That is so not fair," he says finally.
"Just answer the question, Christian," I say a little impatiently.
"There was no question." He's a little irritated himself.
"Fine. Are you in love with Sophie Walker?"
"I'm not," he says. Taylor, at least, doesn't believe him. "I'm not!" he repeats. "God, you two are impossible." He slumps back in his seat.
"I don't know, Becka, should we let him off the hook?" Taylor asks.
Looking at Christian—slouched back in his chair like that, arms folded across his chest, obviously a little cross—I can't help but smile. Poor boy. "I believe him," I say. "Come on, let's go, Taylor. Our homework awaits us." Christian doesn't like Sophie Walker. The world is once again at right.
Taylor gets up and leads the way towards Chase, and I start to follow. But Christian catches my arm as I'm passing him. "Hey," he says. "I haven't seen much of you lately." There's a little desperation in his voice. It makes me guilty again.
I don't like to feel guilty. Like this bitch who drops her best friend as soon as there's a new guy in town. Because that's not me. And that's not what I'm doing here is it? I decide to play this lightly again. "Yeah," I answer. "We should make a date sometime. Um... I'm pretty busy this week but maybe... next Tuesday?"
"Next Tuesday," he says, sounding almost devastated. He drops my arm.
Taylor, who's been standing by all this time, says quickly, "I'm... going to go get Chase."
"I'll meet you guys," I say. She nods and hurries away.
"Next Tuesday, Becka?" Christian repeats again, this time as a question and with more anger than devastation. He knows he deserves better than that. I know he deserves better than that. I'm just not sure I can do better than that. Taking it from the blank expression on my face that I'm not going to give any here, he shakes his head. Then he picks up his tray and his book and he stands up, saying, "You know what? Forget it Becka. I'm not going to just take what I can get." He starts to walk away.
Oh no. I don't think so. "You haven't talk to me either, Christian, for the past to weeks."
He whips around, and laughs. Not a fun laugh but one of those mean, ironic sorts. "I haven't talked to you?! How am I supposed to, Becka? You're like Everhart's lap dog these days. Don't even try to make this about me."
"I don't even know what this is!" Our voices are growing louder
"You don't know what this is," he says dryly and quieter. He sets his tray back on the table, along with his book. "Well let me put it this way. Friendship is reciprocal. You know what that means? It means one person is not always taking the first step. I, Becka, I am always taking the first step here. Now I know you pretty well, and I'm pretty sure the Everhart obsession will wear off sooner of later, but I'm not going to be waiting around. Okay? I'm not going to be sitting on the edge of my seat the whole time your in Chase-land waiting for you to get bored and come wanting me. But when you do get bored, you take the first step. And maybe I'll see if I can fit you in my schedule."
During this discourse, I've turned from a girl to a statue. I can't get anything out of my mouth when he's done. I can't even move.
Christian picks up his tray and turns to go, but he turns around one more time. "I deserve better than this," he says, and then he walks away. I don't know if he said that to me or to himself.
Finally I snap out of it and slowly begin making my way to where Taylor and Chase are sitting. By the time I get there I've pretty much shaken it off. At least for now, that's what I need to do.
"What was that all about?" Chase asks curiously as we exit the cafeteria.
"Nothing," I say. Not true off course. He looks at me skeptically, but I just shrug. I don't expect him to believe me. I just want him to let it slide. Suddenly having the thought it my head, I pull my cell phone out of my purse and begin pressing buttons.
"Watcha doing?" Chase asks.
"Wait," I tell him. A moment later when I'm done I hold the phone up for him to see. "Ta-da! You're on speed dial!"
He rolls his eyes. "Super, Becka," he chuckles. "Who's place did I take?"
"Nobody's," I lie.