A/N: Happy New Year! This here I call my stream of consciousness chapter. On second reading, it seems a bit disjointed and there's probably a lot in here that's peripheral. But I'm posting it anyway. Because it was hell to write in the first place so there's no way I'm writing it again.

i-h8-sclub: sorry about the typos. I'm lazy, but from now on I promise I'll make an effort.

Jill: I love Jeremy too. He's one of my favorite characters actually :o)

darcyonihanaYes. I do hope on hinting at the affair, within the next two chapters I think. That's the plan, anyways. (Hurray! I'm always so happy to hear ppl have read About a Boy. It's so awesome.)

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Chapter 18

Jen's White Knight and More Dating Advice from Jeremy

Or is it? Fine, I mean. I'm not worried about Christian—at all—but suddenly I'm wondering about the other side of the triangle. What is going on with Chase? And I'm all in the mood for a good clarifying chat with him. Thanks to Jeremy. Or no thanks.

He picks me up around one and we drive to Panara for food and to go over some Ancient Classics stuff. But I, of course, have my own private agenda.

Unfortunately, Chase and I actually talking about anything real or anything pertaining to us is an unprecedented event. He's always been a bit evasive when it comes to where we stand with each other. Understatement: he's always been extremely evasive. So I'm not sure how to bring it up, or if it will even go anywhere once I bring it up.

I start with: "So I made up with Christian last night," casually wedging that juicy slice of information into the conversation, again like I did with Jeremy. Like it's not big deal.

And Chase takes it like it's no big deal. "Uh-huh," he mumbles without looking up from his textbook. "So did you actually read Agamemnon? Because I sure didn't."

Damn. Why do I never get the reaction I want? People are too damn unpredictable these days. In this case, I get no reaction whatsoever from Chase. The Christian tactic is obviously not going to work. New strategy.

"Jeremy thinks I'm trying to play both sides. Like, I'm keeping my options open. He says it isn't fair," I prod.

Chase shrugs. Flips through his textbook. Eyes glued to the table. "Well. It kind of looks that way."

A-hah. So maybe that there is my reaction. And maybe he is a little pissed off about the Christian thing. And maybe he doesn't want to be just friends.

But then he adds, "I wouldn't worry about it, though. You know what you're doing." Still not looking at me.

Okay. I give up. Seeing as carefully broaching the subject isn't working, I'm going to cut to the chase here. "You don't want to date me, Chase Everhart," I say very evenly.

Now he looks up. He studies me for a minute or two and then he matches my tone. "You don't want to date me either, Becka Hanson."

He's right, of course. "Then why are we acting like we still want it?" I ask.

Chase shrugs again. "Because it works for us," he says.

Right. It works for us. I have a couple of questions about that assumption, but Chase is already back into his textbook which means discussion is closed and that's all I'm going to get out of him today. I sigh. I guess it doesn't matter. Chase and I, we are what we are. It doesn't matter.

I close my textbook and stare at him until he looks up again. When he does, I say, "I have to go."

"Where?" he asks, like he thinks I'm making this up and wants to see how weak of an alibi I've got.

"I have to meet Jen. We both deserve new shoes and today is the day for buying them. So," I begin standing up, "you can drop me off at the mall. Or, in the spirit of our pretend-like-we're-dating relationship, you welcome to come along. I'm sure it'll be loads of fun."

Those last few sentences are dripping with sarcasm. But Chase just says, "Okay," which means he's coming.

Because Chase is my psuedo boyfriend.

Whatever.

I dial Jen's cell and five minutes later we meet her outside of Express. She stares blankly at Chase.

"I know," I roll my eyes meaningfully. I brought a guy shopping. Heinous crime in girl world. "I've overbooking myself these days. Chase's fault, really. Apparently lunch dates with him transcend into the afternoon. I seriously wasn't planning on bringing him along."

"Whatever," Jen shrugs, a reaction very similar to my own. The three of us make off towards the shoe stores.

"So are you sure you can survive this?" Jen asks Chase, looking up at him dubiously.

"Hey, do not underestimate my shoe-shopping skills," he returns.

"I made Christian come shoe shopping with me once," I interject absently, forgetting for the moment that I am with Chase and random Christian anecdotes are probably not on his list of favorite conversation topics.

"Surprise, surprise," he says sarcastically.

I send him one of my ice-queen-death-looks and continue, more to myself than to anyone who might happening to be listening to me, "He lost a bet. Swore he's was gonna get a six-pack one summer a couple a years ago. Didn't."

"Well, he has one now," Jen says.

"Oh, somebody's noticing," Chase teases, tousling her hair in his flirty, familiar way that is usually reserved for me. She fends him off then wrinkles her nose at him very cutely. Okay. What is with all the Jen-Chase action?

Not that I'm jealous.

It just that suddenly I feel like the third wheel, which is not a feeling I'm used to feeling and not one I like feeling either. And suddenly this whole fun shopping excursion feels more like a chore. And I want to get it over with. And I want Christian. And I'm seriously pissed off with Chase. Because does he want me to be his little girlfriend-who's-not-a-girlfriend or not?

But halfway through the excursion—some where around when Chase slings an arm around my shoulder and sings me an off-key rendition of "When You Say You Love Me"—I realize I may have been overreacting. Like I said—me and Chase, we are what we are. Take it or leave it. We'll never date seriously but we have a hell of a time together. It's not something worth overanalyzing. So I decide, from now on I'll just roll with it.

After four stores, Jen and I are very close to finding the perfect pair of shoes. And then it happens.

Sometimes I forget how truly ridiculous Jen is. Her appearance is so deceivingly benign that you just start thinking she must be as average as she looks. But the girl is truly and Bridget Jones at her core, and things happen to Jen that just don't happen to normal people. Case in point:

Somebody steals her shoes.

I'm serious. We're at one of those places where you help yourself. We've both taken our shoes off and we wander around the corner to look at what's in the next aisle. And when we come back, somebody's taken her shoes. Not my shoes and Jen's shoes. No, just Jen's.

I find it all mildly humorous. "Shoe pirating," I say dryly, staring at the floor where Jen's shoes should've been. "Who'd have ever thunk in?"

Jen, on the other hand, does not find the situation funny at all. She is becoming both mournful and panicky. They were, apparently, one of her favorite pairs.

But Chase, by far, has the oddest reaction to the theft. "For God's sake, they couldn't have gotten far. The shoes were here like two minutes ago," he says, and with that he makes off out of the store, evidently to track down the robber.

Jen slumps down on a bench. "He's never going to find them," she says crossly. And I'd have to agree with that.

But somehow, Chase does find them. Five or so minutes later he re-enter the store, shoes in hand. It a very knight-and-shining-armor moment—Chase walking triumphantly down the aisle, Jen look admiringly up at him—

And me again feeling like the third wheel.

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Back at home.

I'm sitting in our living room, paging through People magazine, when Jeremy plops down on the couch beside me.

"Inspiring reading," he notes, smiling humorously at me.

I look at him briefly and wrinkle my nose. I return to my reading.

"So I've been thinking," he continues. A phrase that demands my complete attention, especially when coming from Jeremy. I put down the magazine.

"That's always dangerous," I observe.

"Right," he says. "So about the whole Chase-Christian thing."

"Oh God, not that again," I moan.

"Pay attention," he scolds, "because I've figured out what your real problem is."

"Oh. Please. Enlighten me."

"I'm going to ignore the sarcasm there, because I know deep down in you, you really want to hear what I've got to say." Jeremy pauses to give me the chance to agree. I just stare blankly at him so he continues, "See, you think you're keeping your options open. But you're not."

"What do you mean?" I ask, for the moment forgetting to keep up the pretense of disinterestedness.

"Nobody knows that you're available, Becka," he explains. "Christian still thinks you're going to wind up with Chase, and Chase has always thought you have something going on with Christian." I must look a little mystified because he adds, "You seriously can't see that?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly. "I don't know if I even believe it. But anyway, even if it is true, what am I supposed to do about it?"

"Set the record straight. Especially with Christian. If you and Chase are really something that's never going happen, just tell Christian that. I mean, even if you don't want to date him, the guy deserves to know what's going on."

I know he does. "But the thing is," I begin slowly, wondering how exactly to explain this. "With Chase, I feel like—I feel like it's supposed to be a secret that we're never going to hook up. Like, he wants to keep it to ourselves. I don't know why, he just—he definitely gives me that vibe. The don't-go-spreading-this-around vibe."

Jeremy shrugs. "Well, I can't say I understand that," he says. "Anyway, you know what my advice is. Clear the air. Tell the truth. Because the way you're going about this, somebody's going to get screwed over, and very well may be you."

And that's all he has to say on the subject.