To TJ or not to TJ

Summary: Sandy and Kirsten in college. There's a TJ trip but they've just broken up and don't feel like going, what happens if their friends persuade them…

Disclaimer: If I owned the OC I'd have a yacht with a swimming pool on by now.

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Hope you've enjoyed this. I've had a great time writing it. Thanks for your amazing reviewing response. I'd write anyway but it really does make it special.

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Chapter Eight

You wake up slowly, confused. Your back is pressed up against something, or someone, judging by the arm draped across you. It's male and familiar but it takes a moment for your sleep soaked brain to recall yesterday.

It's Sandy. God. You should have known better than to share a bed with him; even broken up you can't stop yourselves becoming tangled together in your sleep. You remember endless mornings waking like this, Sandy curled protectively around you. Or sometimes you'd be pressed up against his chest with your own, his arms round you, yours around him, hearts beating next to each other.

Focussing on the hairs on his arm as you fight more tears, you idly wonder if he's awake. But surely if he was you wouldn't still be cuddled up as close as this. That said, you are awake and haven't moved the offending arm away. At that realisation you slide gingerly out of bed, glancing at Sandy as you stand up. His eyes flutter closed a fraction too late and you look away, hurrying into the bathroom to prevent any discussion. Fleeing the awkwardness between you because neither of you are over the other yet.

Sandy is up and dressed when you emerge from the bathroom.

'Breakfast?' he asks, ducking his head so as to avoid your eyes.

You nod. Sure, why not continue this uncomfortable charade as long as possible?

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All of a sudden you realise how weird this is; Kirsten sat opposite you in the diner booth, sharing breakfast like you're still together. Matching coffees being lifted in sync, Kirsten eating the crusts of your toast (there was a displeasing lack of bagels), the pair of you disappearing behind respective sections of the newspaper having fought over Arts and Leisure. You hate to admit it but this feels so right. Waking up with her again was such an unexpected pleasure and now, sat here like this you feel you could do this every morning for the rest of your life. (As long as there were bagels.) If you think about it, there is a kind of old-married-couple feel to the situation.

You're startled from your reverie by a sniffle from behind Arts and Leisure. Putting down the crossword you reach across the table and tilt Kirsten's paper towards you so you can see her face. It's flushed and two shiny tear trails are evident down her cheeks. That's all you see before you're left with the newspaper in your hand and an empty booth in front of you. You don't hesitate in getting up yourself, flinging several dollar bills amidst the remains of the abandoned breakfast and following your fleeing ex.

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Outside, several yards along the street you realise you don't have the key to the motel room. There is nowhere else to go; beside the motorway is the motel, the diner, a shop of some description and the garage. So you sit down on the dust sidewalk where it peters out into nothing. That's where Sandy finds you two minutes later. In the midst of your tears you're aware of the speed with which he followed you. But then of course, Sandy is ever the gentleman. He wouldn't let anyone wander off in a strange place alone. He sits down on the kerb beside you, one arm slipping round your shoulders and making it even harder to breathe. It's reflexive to lean into the comfort, bury your head into his shoulder and let the tears come. Sandy doesn't say anything as you slowly dampen his shirt and it hits you how awkward this is too. You're too close.

Pulling away, you attempt to stumble to your feet but Sandy follows you. He catches your hand as you turn away, forcing you to face him, trapped.

'I can't…do this,' you choke out. 'I can't…be like this…not like this, not with you, not any more. It's too hard.'

'You mean you don't want to be friends?'

'I don't think we can be. Last night…this morning…just now…'

'Didn't feel like being friends?'

You nod.

'But…'

'We tried Sandy, didn't we?'

'Yeah, but…'

'And we failed. I'm sorry I pressured you about the summer but I just wanted to see where I stood. It seemed like I was taking things more seriously than you and I was right.'

'That's not true.'

'I'm not doing this Sandy. We're already broken up, we don't need to argue.'

'We're not. You're just telling me how you feel. Something you failed to do at the time.'

'I tried, you didn't want to listen.'

'I'm sorry. I was stressed.'

'And I wasn't? Bang in the middle of my finals?'

'Don't act like I timed it that way, I had exams too; if I don't pass I don't get into my second year of law.'

'Well I'm sorry for caring about us.'

'I care…cared.'

'Didn't feel like it. You didn't even want to talk about what was gonna happen after school was over for me.'

'I did, I just wasn't ready to.'

'And what do you mean by that?'

'It doesn't matter now.'

'Sandy, just tell me.'

'I uh…applied for an internship at the P.D.'s office, so I'd be able to stay here for the summer, with you, I hadn't heard back from them at the time…'

'And now?'

'I start first week of break.'

'Oh.'

'I didn't want to tell you in case it fell through and I needed to figure out some other way to keep us together.'

'You wanted to keep us together.'

'Obviously. And well…I wasn't about to follow you to Newport unless I had to.'

'I didn't want to go back anyway…I um, got a job at one of the galleries in Sorselido. Before we…you know.'

'You never said.'

'I never got the chance.'

'You didn't back out did you? You love that place.'

'Not yet.'

'Looks like we're both gonna be in Berkeley for the summer.'

'Well…'

'You can't cancel. That job is the first step to owning your own gallery.'

'But…'

'Kirsten, please.'

'I'll think about it.'

'What is there to think about?'

'Well…stuff.'

'Like?'

'What to tell my dad, where to live…'

'That's why you wanted to talk about it!'

'Sandy! It wasn't like that. I wanted to know if it was worth me staying, worth looking for a place.'

'But you thought we were ready to live together.'

'Well, maybe. Obviously I was wrong.'

'I overreacted.'

'You can say that again.'

'As did you.'

'Maybe.'

'You know you did.'

'OK, I did, by a long way but…what difference does it make now?'

'Well…if we're gonna both be in Berkeley…'

'Sandy…'

'Just hear me out. I'm sorry and you're sorry, it was a bad time for both of us but we uh…we seem to have unfinished business so surely we owe it to ourselves to…complete it?'

'I don't know.'

'What don't you know? If we're both gonna be around this summer why not? Why avoid each other?'

'It's just…'

'I miss you.'

'I miss you too but I don't want to break up again.'

'We can cross that bridge if and when we come to it.'

You bite your lip; you can't deny that this is what you want. That you would break up all over again for the chance of more time with him. 'Um…can we uh…take it slow?'

'Apart from the whole living together thing.'

'Sandy, I can't…I didn't mean…'

'I insist. Why pay two rents when we'll never be in both? Although…I only have my digs till the end of the semester too so we'll have to be looking for somewhere on a budget, should be fun.'

'I don't mind where we live.'

'You might regret saying that.'

'Well remind me that I did.'

'Ok. Can I kiss you now?'

'I guess so.'

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Ten minutes of kissing on the pavement later, you pull away gently and lead her away by the hand still clasped in yours. She smiles mischievously as you fumble with the key to your room again, the hand snaking round your waist from behind and reaching towards your crotch makes it difficult to concentrate. You manhandle her through the door when it's finally open and she laughs wildly as you toss her onto the unmade bed. Your clothes last about two minutes beneath her deft fingers and hers soon follow to the floor. Another ten minutes and both of you are sated and sweaty, a tangled, breathless mass in the bedclothes.

'That's slow huh?' Kirsten asks. You can feel her lips curve into a smile against your chest.

'Well I did take your clothes off this time,' you point out and she laughs before kissing her way back up to your mouth. Immediately you feel the familiar stirrings and it hits you how much this girl gets to you, how much you missed her, how much you…well, maybe…love her?

Yeah. You do. For some reason the idea no longer scares you.

Neither of you make it to Mexico that weekend.

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And there you have it. Hope that was a good balance of cuteness and angst for the summer! I wanted it to be light but I can't resist some angst! Please review.

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