A/N: Once again, thank you dear reviewers, and please, continue with the story.
Badum, badum, badum...ENJOY!
Chapter 4: Festering 't.
The moment I walked into the boys' locker room for P.E., the moment I saw him, I knew what topic lay on Vince's lips. I had successfully avoided talking to him the entirety of the weekend, which wasn't incredibly hard as I had locked myself in my room and turned my stereo on full blast. My parents weren't very happy that weekend, but, to their credit, they seemed to sense that it was best to leave me alone. I collapsed on the bench, tossing my backpack to the ground.
"So?" Vince asked, grinning broadly. A few other guys greeted me on their ways to their lockers, getting ready to change for class, "How'd it go?"
"How'd what go?" A friend, an obnoxious boy that went by the name Dickie asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," I muttered, kicking my locker.
"Talk about what?" Dickie pressed. He hated being left out of anything, was extremely nosy, and did I mention he was obnoxious? But he did tell a lot of great jokes that you couldn't repeat in front of your parents, and sometimes, women, "Come on, TJ, tell Dr. Dickie all out it."
"He went on a date with Spinelli," Vince explained.
"That's great Vince. But you didn't say it loud enough for everyone to hear, so you may want to go around school and make sure everyone got the message. While your at it post a news bulletin, make an announcement over the intercom and maybe you could write a story, front page material right there," I ranted, laying down on the bench. I didn't mean to be harsh, but I wasn't exactly my cheerful self.
"Jeez, someone's cranky," Vince muttered.
"Sorry." I wasn't.
"Spinelli?" Tommy, a tiny curly haired boy commented from his locker, pulling his gym shirt over his head, "You went on a date with that scary chick? I don't even think I could talk to her for fear she'd bite my head off...literally." I laid my arms over my face, sighing.
"Alright, Dettwieler," a boy who went by the nickname Snicker, a miniature Casa Nova, said, sliding next to me, "How's this catch your fancy. A girl, a hot girl, and I'm talking hot. A lot hotter than that Spinelli chick, but I mean, that girl's a dog, so...but anyways, she's hot. She's a tenth grader, blond, got legs like you've never seen..."
"Did this have a point?" I demanded; my voice muffled by my arms.
"She's got it bad for you, Dettwieler," Snicker slapped my shoulder, "Can you imagine, a tenth grader, dreaming about you, thinking about you. Guys our age can only fantasize about something like that...well, not me, of course, but I will set you up with her, just say the..."
"What are you doing?" Vince snapped, "Get lost, will ya'?" Snicker left, heading back to his locker and Vince stole his seat. "Talk, Teej."
"I screwed up, Vince, I screwed up big time," I moaned, "Everything was going fine, and it was working, and then I screwed up."
"Alright, what happened? Where'd things go wrong?"
"When I kissed her."
"You kissed that scary chick?" Tommy gasped. Vince and I both shot him glares.
"So...you guys kissed," Vince restated, trying to grasp what was wrong with that sentence, "It's not like you two haven't kissed before."
"But it was different this time Vince," I cried, pulling myself up, "You don't get it. She was there, I was there, we were on top of the monkey bars..."
"You were on top of monkey bars?" Dickie interrupted.
"Yes! We went to the park! We climbed to the top of the monkey bars, and she was wearing my jacket because she was cold, and she looked really, really beautiful. And I wanted to kiss her."
"And you kissed her? Just like that?" Vince scrunched his nose, obviously trying to imagine it.
"No!" I groaned, "I asked."
"Fatal mistake," Snicker shook his head.
"Shut up," Vince and I snapped in unison.
"She didn't want to, and she said a lot of things that now that I think about it make a lot sense. But you know how I am, Vince, I wanted to kiss her so I kissed her," I sat up.
"Then what? Where'd it go wrong?" Vince pressed.
"She asked if I thought it was weird, and I asked her...she said it was, so I did."
"Did you? Did you think it was weird?"
"It's weird-ing me out just hearing about it," Tommy commented.
"Teej?" I frowned, pulling myself up and busying myself with opening my locker.
"You lied to her," Vince hissed knowingly.
"It's not like I haven't lied to her before," I said, pulling out my gym clothes, and sorting through them. "I just...what was I gonna do? Tell her the truth and ruin what we already have, a really great friendship? I want to be in her life, Vince, even if it's just as friends."
"Have you spoke to her since that night?"
"No."
"I thought you guys called each other every night." I said nothing, pulling my shirt off, balling it up and tossing it in the locker. "TJ, obviously lying to her didn't do anything. You have to tell her the truth. Maybe, I don't know, maybe she lied too. Maybe she thought she was telling you what you wanted to hear."
"You and I both know Spin's a bad liar, and she can't lie to me. I know her too well," I argued, pulling on my gym shirt and running my hand through my hair, a mess as usual.
"Maybe, Teej, maybe you heard what you thought you were going to hear," Vince suggested, "You haven't been thinking real clear lately when it comes to Spinelli, and you know it." I sighed, laying my forehead against the coolness of the lockers.
"And what if I tell her the truth? Huh? What happens then? She shoots me down, rejects me, yet again?"
"You're friendship will last. You've been through tougher times then this," Vince grinned, "I still remember when she broke your collector's edition Señor Fusion action figure, and you wouldn't talk to her for three weeks. That was bad."
"I was seven," I cried out in exasperation, "And I forgot about that. I'm still mad about it, by the way, that was my favorite one, my grandpa bought that for me for my birthday..."
"TJ, you have to tell her the truth," Vince repeated, "One way or another, you're friendship is getting torn apart. I spoke to Gretch, she said..."
"You spoke to Gretch? Why is what's going on between Spin and me so fascinating to you guys?"
"Because we love you both. Anyways, Gretch said that Spin's been...well she hasn't been herself. She's been crying..."
"Spinelli doesn't cry." Of course, I knew that wasn't true.
"Well, she has been. You made this mess, Teej, now you have to take responsibility and clean it up," Vince gave me one last pat on the shoulder before leaving to his own locker. I sighed.
"Let's go, boys," Coach called from the doorway, ushering the already dressed students out the door. I had to finish changing, but my mind was once again on Spinelli, well, it had never left her. But Vince had a point, and I hated that. And if what Gretchen said was true, then I didn't want her crying.
-0-0-
When the bell for lunch rang I found Spinelli by her locker, shuffling through the mess. There were a few other people around, but everyone else had already gone to class or the cafeteria in a rush to beat the long lunch lines. For what I had to tell her, I didn't really want an audience, and I knew she'd appreciate not having one as well. I snuck up behind her, tapping her shoulder. She spun around, caught my eyes for a brief moment, and looked away. They were red, her eyes that is. It was faded, but I could tell, she had been crying. I felt a pang of guilt.
"What's up?" she asked, and I could hear her draw in a deep breath. She focused on the mess that was her locker, most likely searching for her wallet or lunch bag.
"Nothing," I leaned against the lockers, noticing a small group of girls chatting, shooting odd glances my way, and then breaking into giggles. One of them in particular was staring. It made me uncomfortable. We were silent, and I hated it, that tension hanging in the air between us. "Spin..."
"Can I borrow a dollar?" she interrupted, "Apparently I forgot my lunch at home, and I'm broke."
"Oh...yeah, sure," I searched my back pocket for my wallet, produced the bill and handed it over, "Spinelli," I tried again, and she froze, "We need to talk...about that night."
"Don't," she slammed her locker door shut, "It's over, and it's done. Can't we just forget about it, already?"
"No," I protested, "Spinelli...""I'm hungry. And I have a test in history," she told me, "I don't want to deal with this right now."
"Maybe we should try again."
"What?" she cried, evidently confused.
"Maybe we should try it again, the kiss I mean. The first time is supposed to be weird," I licked my lips, dried out, staring at the ground, "Can we? Try it again, I mean?"
"We talked about this, we dealt with all of this," Spinelli shook her head, her words quavering.
"No, we didn't. We lied to each other, to ourselves," I yelled, my temper rising, I jerked away from the lockers, turned to her, "For what? Our friendship? We'll still have the friendship, Spinelli, it's strong, it's not going anywhere, so what are you so afraid of?"
"Why can't you just overlook me like everyone else, Teej?" she cried, tears spilling down her cheeks, "Why can't you just pretend I'm an ugly part of the background?"
"Haven't you figured it out yet? I really, really like you." She glanced to the girls whose full attention was on us now, each one staring intently. What she read in them, I couldn't know, I didn't even bother to look at them. Spinelli was there in front of me; no one else was worth looking at.
"It was a really good kiss, Teej," she whispered, her bottom lip trembling. I smiled, running a thumb along her cheek, wiping away the tears.
"I lied," I told her, "I didn't think it was weird, Spin. It was...it felt right." She smiled, soft, careful, the most feminine smile I'd ever seen cross her face. "So...can we try it again?" She nodded. I didn't hesitate, and she didn't have to tell me twice, as I bent, brushing my lips against hers.
"YES!" A shout, which could only be attributed to Vince, resounded from the end of the hallway and cheering broke out. We broke apart and I looked up, to see the gang down the hall. Vince shaking his fists in the air triumphantly, Gus hooting pumping his arm wildly in wide circle. Gretchen was clapping and laughing at the ruckus the others were causing, and even getting in the spirit enough to whistle. Mikey was standing, nodding his head, clapping his hands together and chanting, "Encore, encore..." Spinelli buried her face in my chest, an action I really didn't mind, that I, in fact, found quite pleasing. I could tell that her face was red.
"Oh man," she moaned.
"Brilliantly displayed," Mikey went on, "Though, the next kiss I recommend should be a little deeper. Spinelli, you have to lean in, you want it, remember?" Spinelli threw her head back, breaking into laughter, and somehow I managed to snake my hand behind her neck and draw her in to another kiss, and I was almost certain that I wouldn't be able to stop kissing her. That is, until a nearby classroom door was thrown open and the teacher stepped out.
"What is going on out here?" the balding man demanded, "Hey, you kids! PDA's are against school..." I grabbed Spinelli's wrist.
"It's time to go," I told her, and we all broke into a sprint down the hallway towards the cafeteria.
"Hey! Get back here! No running in the hallways...oh..." the teacher shook his head, retreating back into his classroom. I stopped as soon as we turned the corner, dragging her in for another kiss, my hand resting in the small of her back and drawing her forward. Her hands came to rest lightly on both sides of my waist, and I knew at that moment, that, if I had my way, she would be the first, last, and only girl I ever kissed.
-0-0-0-0---------------------Present Time---------------------0-0-0-0-
Gretchen leaned over the appointment book laid open on the front counter, checking for when her next patient was due in. She smiled. An opening at last, no appointments for two straight hours. Now all she had to worry about were surprise visits from her clients. She was startled when she turned to find Millicent standing there. She hadn't spoken to the secretary yet about the date with TJ the night before, but Gretchen could tell from the look on Millicent's face that something had gone wrong.
"I'm just checking..." Gretchen started to explain, but trailed off, "So, how's it going?"
"Fine," Millicent shrugged, "Here are those files you asked for yesterday." She handed them over stiffly, then maneuvering her way around Gretchen, "Oh, and thanks for setting me up with your married friend last night."
"Married?" Gretchen furrowed her brow, taking a moment to process this information, "You went on a date with TJ, right?"
"Yeah, and at first I was beginning to think I'd gotten a real great guy. I mean, do you know the sway he has over at Chez Vince, was does he do for a living? Of course, at the end of the date he had the courtesy of divulging his marital status with me."
"But TJ isn't..." Gretchen started, then closed her eyes, groaning inwardly.
"Forget about the wife? Don't tell me she's a howling banshee, because it still makes him married," Millicent made to leave, but Gretchen caught her.
"Please, don't go. I just...I'm going to straighten this out, and TJ owes you an apology," Gretchen told her.
"What?"
"Just wait, alright," Gretchen begged. Millicent placed hands on her hip, tapping her foot impatiently.
"I'm waiting." Gretchen fell into Millicent's swivel chair and picked up the phone, quickly dialing. She occupied herself with chewing her thumbnail until a groggy voice filled the phone on the fourth ring.
"Hello?"
"TJ? It's Gretchen," she whispered roughly.
"Gretch..." TJ moaned, "Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"It's two in the afternoon, Teej," she snapped.
"Oh..."
"Are you still in bed?" she demanded, but already knew the answer, so she didn't wait for one, "I have Millicent here, telling me that you told her you're married."
"I didn't tell her I was married," TJ retorted drowsily into the phone, shifting, "She asked if I had a wife somewhere and, technically, I do." Gretchen wasn't sure what it was that made her snap, but she was suddenly on her feet seething with rage.
"Theodore, listen very carefully, and please keep in mind that I only say this because I love you. She is dead. She is dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead," Gretchen could barely keep her voice from a scream and she was well aware of the people in the waiting room turning to look at her, "She's been dead for three years! Three years, TJ. She isn't coming back. Get out of bed; take that damn ring off your finger, take a shower; I don't know when you last took one, but I'm sure you need one now, and pack away her things; put it in storage if you have to, but just pack it all away. And stop this. Because she's gone, and she's not coming back...she's just...she's gone. I don't want to lose you with her..." Gretchen was more than aware of the tears trailing down her cheeks, and that she was gripping the table so hard her knuckles were white, and that she truly needed the support. There was silence on the other end of the line. "TJ?" she whispered, her voice shaking. No answer. "TJ!" she cried, frantically.
"Right," he finally replied, solemnly. There was a click, and then the dial tone.
"TJ," she whispered, knowing he was gone and couldn't hear her anymore. She gaped, sobs shaking through her, "Oh god," she whispered, "Oh god..." She hung up, dialing another number.
"Hey," a voice filled the phone.
"Vince?" Gretchen whimpered.
"Gretch?" there was alert in his voice, "What's wrong?"
"TJ...it's TJ...we have to...I didn't mean to..."
"Gretchen, breath," Vince directed her, "What happened?"
"I didn't mean to say it Vince...but he...I was just so mad. Oh, God, it's TJ..."
"Get to his house, now, I'll call the gang," Vince barked, before slamming the phone down. Gretchen nodded, placing her own phone back to the cradle and turning to Millicent.
"Do you...I don't think I can drive, can you drive?" Millicent nodded, shaking from her shock.
-0-0-
It only took ten minutes to get from the hospital to TJ's house. But when Gretchen finally arrived; Vince, Mikey and Gus were already waiting outside. She was the only one with a key to the house and she assumed, from the way they all sat there, that TJ wasn't opening the door. She raced up the steps, taking them two at a time, and inserted her key in the lock.
"What did you say to him?" Vince demanded, and she said nothing, jingling her key in the lock because it wouldn't turn, although she knew, as practicality suggested, that the key wasn't in all the way. He grabbed her arm, turned her to face him, "What did you say to him?"
"Jesus Christ, Vincent," she snapped, "It's not like I said something that all of you haven't been thinking...that hasn't been on the tip of all of your tongues for the past year. I could not take it anymore. I had to say something...I had to say it..." she saw Millicent, leaning against the car staring uncertainly at the small group, most particularly Mikey, who had his usual incognito get-up; sunglasses, a cap, and a worn jacket with the collar turned up. Gretchen opened the front door and let it swing in. The gang felt their stomachs knot as they stepped in, staring warily about.
TJ sat leaning against the couch on the floor, his legs drawn up, staring blankly at nothing in particular. He didn't acknowledge their presence, didn't even bother to glance up. He held in his fingers a ring, his wedding ring that had been slipped on his finger by Spinelli on their wedding day. He rolled it around in his fingers, silently. It was nothing special, a thin gold band, misshapen from years of being worn, but he held it carefully, as though it were a priceless treasure.
"Teej..." Gretchen whispered and he flinched slightly, "Are you...are you okay?"
"I guess I'm not as strong as you guys," he whispered. And the gang fell silent. Their eyes finding something to look at, anything to study besides him. "I mean...I thought I was over it, I wanted to be over it, I wake up in the morning and think, I'm over it. The pain, it must be gone now. And then..." tears fell down his cheeks, his voice losing it's steady candor, "Then I...then I forget that I'm supposed to be over it and it's three years ago all over again, and...I wish, I really wish I could handle it like you guys, but then, it's not as simple for me..."
"Simple?" Gretchen cried out, stepping forward, enraged by what she saw as childish, selfish behavior, "You act like you're the only one who's lost something that day! She was my best friend! You're so blinded by your own pain that you can't look around and see anyone else's! You think it was simple for me to deal with this? Do you honestly think it was..."
"Yeah, I do," TJ spat, pulling himself to his feet, his eyes boring into hers, "What did you lose? Huh? Honestly, what did you lose? A phone call every week? Or did you forget about those, because you don't seem to miss them that much? Or, maybe a lunch every now and then! Is that what you lost? Goddamn, Gretch, you lost so much," he said bitterly, sardonically, "How can it not be simple for you, when there's so much around to remind you of what you lost? But then, you don't have to wake up in the middle of the night, reaching for her, and remember. You don't come home to an empty fucking house, call out, hear no reply, and remember. You don't spend every fucking minute of your fucking time alone remembering!"
"Hey," Vince cried, stepping in, Gretchen falling back into sobs, Mikey wrapping his arms about her shoulders, trying to soothe her. "That's not called for. I know that this hurts..."
"Oh, do you?" TJ said in biting sarcasm, "Do you really know how it hurts? No, you don't. You can't possibly know how much it hurts, Vince, do you know why? No? Because you didn't lose what I lost. I mean, how can you possibly understand? The woman you love isn't dead. In fact, she's fine and healthy, and she's standing right over there, and just because you aren't together and you guys don't tell each other how you feel, and probably never will, doesn't change the fact that she isn't dead. You can never understand how I feel, Vince, because you don't know how I feel." TJ shook his head, his breathing nothing more than sharp gasps, "You all pushed it aside, glossed over the pain, and forgot. You never got over it, none of you ever got over the pain, you just...you just made it so she never existed, and, hey, whatever gets you through it. But I can't do that. Because I don't want her to never have existed." He raised the ring, holding it between his thumb and index finger for all of them to see, "This...this is all I have left of my marriage. Can I have that? Please?" He turned, shoulders heaving, tears breaking in a run down his cheeks. He made his way towards the kitchen door, "I want...I want you guys to leave..." he whispered, "I'm sorry." He slipped from sight into the kitchen. There came an anguished cry, a crash, and silence that cut deeper than anything he'd said that night.
"I didn't..." Gretchen started, trying to force the words out through the sobs, "I'm sorry...I know...I'm sorry..."
"Whatever, Gretchen," Vince shook his head, making his way for the door, "He doesn't want us here, let's go."
"Someone should...someone should stay with him," Gus mumbled, staring glossy eyed at the door, "We can't leave him alone."
"Then stay with him," Vince snapped, "But I'm out of here." He pushed his way out the front, followed by Gretchen's trembling form.
"What becomes of us?" Mikey questioned the empty air, "We are five remaining, lost without our missing piece to make us whole." He patted Gus on the shoulder before stepping out of the house. Gus sighed, staring at that foreboding door, the large gap that separated the gang from their leader.
"Maybe we should let him kill himself," Gus said to no one in particular, as there was no one left, "Maybe then he'll be happy, maybe then he'll be with her." He moved out the front door, as well, closing it behind him.
-0-0-
TJ stared out, no more tears falling. He couldn't make anymore. He couldn't cry anymore. He wasn't sure how long it had been, but assumed hours had passed since the gang left him. He stared at the toppled table, a broken glass, and a spill of old water seeping into the wood floor. He didn't care. The phone rang, and he frowned at it. He thought not to answer it. He hated the phone; he hated answering the phone. It rang again. Maybe it would stop. It rang again. He pulled himself up, lifted it to his ear.
"Hun," he grunted.
"Theodore..." a soft, shaking voice. TJ couldn't muster the strength to be surprised, or shocked, but that didn't mean he wasn't. So he frowned at the phone base, and replied.
"Mom."
END A/N: So TJ hasn't really moved on...he's grown rather bitter and angry, however! Man, what can his mother possibly want? I guess you'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out.
Now that you've read it, go REVIEW, so that I can know what each and every one of you thinks. Because, unfortunately, I can't read minds. Sigh...
please excuse any grammatical and typing errors.
Thanks for reading...now, blast some good sad music, and go have a good cry.