DISCLAIMER: I don't own That 70's Show or anything related to it. I wish I did cause then I could make Jackie and Hyde be together. Humph… Oh well. The last season never happened. Sorry that I haven't been writing. I've been busy and I forgot. Also, this chapter isn't as short as the others but I still couldn't think of anything. There isn't any JH in it but I wanted everyone to know where the other characters are.

Summary: Takes place in the 8th Season, during and after Fun It. Jackie and Hyde bottle up their feelings because they can't stand getting hurt again by each other. The final season leads them through tragedy and self-discovery. But will it lead them together again?

Chapter 11: Draw The Line

Heads I win tails you lose lord it's such a crime

No dice honey you the salt you're the queen of the brine

Checkmate honey you're the only one who's got ta choose

Where to draw the line

The TV was on, full blast, in the basement. But the person there wasn't really watching it at all. His mind was more focused on other things, moral things. He was debating which one of his friends to betray. He could betray Hyde by not telling him what he knew. Or he could betray Jackie, who didn't even know she was being betrayed. In his mind, the biggest hurt to Jackie would be going back to Hyde because, even though they were best of friends, he knew that Hyde would hurt her again. And again. And again. The cycle would never stop.

His heart and his mind were at war, trying to figure out his next action. He could tell Hyde that Jackie still loved him so they could get back together again. Or he could keep his mouth shut and eventually get Jackie himself. He knew it would only be a matter of time before Jackie realized that he was the best guy for her, even if she would never love him. Being with a goddess was good enough, he thought.

So, Fez sat, as he had been for days, thinking about what to do, still not knowing the answer.

The heat was unbearable. It was thick, sticky, oppressive, choking and any and every other horrible descriptive word a person could think of. But in the heat, Eric could only think of one. Hot.

The students wiped at their brows every once and a while. They were generally used to it; they were born in it. Today it was a little worse because it wasn't dry; it was humid. The air clung to the students and their clothes, getting trapped inside, threatening to never come out. It made them irritable, but they didn't show it. They were happy just to have the opportunity to learn.

Before Mr. Eric came, they helped their families with whatever work they had, whether it was washing clothes, carrying buckets of water from the river or taking care of younger siblings. Then they started building a school. It had three rooms, a classroom in each. Adjoined to the school was a medical center, with one large room and several smaller rooms and a wooden hut for the teachers and doctors and nurses to live in, sometimes sharing rooms. The area was poor, but not overly poor. They were like most other small African villages, nothing terribly important about them.

Mr. Eric was the last of the three teachers to come. When he arrived, some of boys snickered at him for being so tall and lanky, without any muscle. The other teachers, men, were sturdy, one was even fat. The parents admired the fat teacher at first, because it meant that he came from a place that had a generous amount of food. It meant that he must be smart and rich and a good teacher for their children. They thought less of Mr. Eric (although not much) because he was a lighter and albeit healthy version of them; they didn't think he was as smart. But after just a few days of Mr. Eric teaching their children, they loved him best. After school, the students of Mr. Eric rushed home screaming. They shouted in joy that Mr. Eric was funny and nice and treated them good. They said there were a few things they didn't understand, (one commenting that they didn't understand why Mr. Eric sometimes referred to himself as Luke. He had said his name was Eric) but otherwise they were happy that Mr. Eric was their teacher.

The good news had gotten back to Eric, via the fat teacher in an unhappy tone. He immediately called his mom and told her, even though it was 2 in the morning where she was. He couldn't hep it; he was too happy.

Even though it was what he wanted (after all, he choose to go there) he didn't realize what it meant until the children said they liked him. He felt needed and wanted and loved, something that he rarely felt at home. His friends needed, wanted and loved him, but they would survive without him. It would take a serious adjusting period but they could do it. The kids needed him to survive. Without him, they might not have a teacher and get an education. They would stay poor like their families and never be able to help their country become a better nation.

Eric thought he would be home sick. He wasn't.

She watched the clock on her night stand tick passed another minute. 'Just one less minute until he gets home', she thought. She turned over and thought about all the times that they had together. Moments when he messed everything up by being a dumbass, moments when she was too stupid to see how much she loved him. It wasn't supposed to be this way, she knew that. They were supposed to be in Madison. She was supposed to be in college. Life didn't turn out how she planned.

She had a check list of everything she wanted. Going to college. Becoming something great. Being with Eric forever.

She only had one of the things on her check list. And then she got a call from Africa. And then she had none.

Author's Note: I should have the next JH chapter tonight. Review!