A/N: Thank you guys again for so many excellent reviews! I appreciate every single one of them! After a few chapters of fluff, here I go with some plot. I hope it's not too full of meaning. XD Sorry for the long wait…but hey, forgive me!

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson's. Of course.

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Roger's POV

2 weeks later

"So…this Friday night?" Mark collides his shoulders with mine gently, his bag strapped around his chest and sneakers quietly slapping the floor with every step. The hall is packed with people, chaos of every kind in every direction. Girls crying, boys laughing, couples fighting, couples making out, teachers yelling, students causing trouble. It's all so high school, I just can't stand being here anymore. I think the only thing that keeps me sane is being with Mark. Two weeks and I'm already fucking beaming.

"Yea…my dad keeps canceling and he insists that Friday is going to work out. So whatever. Are you free?" He nods enthusiastically to my confusion. I have no clue why he would want to meet my father so badly. Maybe he just likes spending time together.

"You're sure you're okay with me coming?" His face looks so innocent, so naïve and small, now any doubt I had in my mind has vanished.

"Of course. I don't know what I'd do without you there. Are you sure you want to come?" I pose with a slight chuckle, burying the thought that this might be a disaster in the back of my mind. As long as my mother is there I'm sure the fights won't be as horrible as I imagine. But I never even considered that I might have to tell my father, whom I don't see except for maybe four times a year, that I am dating another boy. I'm not ashamed of Mark in the slightest bit, if anything I'm grateful, but telling my father will just be…an experience.

"I…yea. Yea, I'm just…a little nervous about meeting your dad…are we gonna? I mean…will he…are you…?" He stumbles over his words and I resist the urge to reach to his lips with mine. School always ruins a perfect opportunity.

"I don't know how things are going to go. Maybe I'll talk to…" My vision is subsided when Carrie and Maureen pass us through the hallway, walking slowly beside each other. Carrie's daily creative outfit catches my eye, another pink blouse with no sleeves, a black skirt with white fringes and sandals. In March. It takes me a second to realize that we are not speaking, but it really hits home when I receive a partially nasty squint from her, then an apologetic pout from Maureen. I turn to look at Mark, his eyes shut temporarily in fear. I guess he's known how mad Carrie is at me for a while, after attending many of the same classes as Maureen, he hears, whether he likes it or not, the details of the girls' every conversation.

"That was…awkward." Mark mumbles, but I'm barely paying attention. I can't help but feel horrible whenever I see Carrie. Whenever I think about Carrie. I just ruined one of my greatest friendships for another one. Although I'm incredibly happy I'm with Mark, there's a feeling of loss. I need Carrie back.

"Yea…look I'll see you later okay? You have to get to class anyways." I smirk sadly, then hesitate as how to say goodbye.

"All right. Umm…" He's at a loss too, and instead of leaving him behind with nothing, I grasp his hand firmly in mine, giving it a tiny squeeze and running my thumb over his knuckle.

"I'll see you later, Mark." I stare directly into his bright blue eyes, at this moment when I would give anything to kiss him. Even though we haven't talked about it yet, I don't think either of us wants to make our relationship the school's business. There are a lot of liberal, open-minded people here, but also a lot of "bullies", as Mark says.

"Yea…" He sighs as I walk away, separating our hands and disappearing into the crowd of teenagers, regretting his absence from the first second we lose contact. I hate this school.

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"Mom, I'm home." I say quietly, doubting she is able to hear me from the basement, but I could really care less. I'm so wiped after the day I've had, I just want to sink into my bed and die. Maybe I'll call Mark. Maybe Katie. Just someone. Someone who will keep me sane, keep me awake.

I don't wait for an answer before darting up the stairs, turning the corner and reaching my room at the end of the short hallway. Blue carpet cushions my sneakers, and I kick them off when I remember that my mom might just kill me for running through the kitchen without taking them off first. My body immediately falls back on to my bed, the springs harshly jutting into my back as I prop myself up on a pillow, leaning my head against the wall. I grab the phone from its place, wrapping the cord around my finger and dialing the first number that comes to mind.

"Hello?" A voice rings out on the other end, and a brief sigh captures my lips.

"I miss you." I say quietly, and picture Mark blushing on the other end.

"Hey, I miss you too. We only see each other like twice a day, it sucks." I hear some sort of commotion, as if Mark is trying to get away from something. Maybe it's his parents. I don't blame him, after his father was watching his moves like a hawk.

"Yea, I know. We should hang out after school more often. You busy now?" I don't even think before asking, completely ignoring any previous engagements I may have made. My afternoons are usually filled with gossip-chocked conversations with Carrie via telephone, before sitting by myself for hours trying to write music. I think I'd rather spend time with Mark.

"Uhh…I don't know. My grandparents are over and I think they're staying for dinner. My mom might kill me if I leave." He sighs, disappointed. "Sorry." He adds to make sure I know he really doesn't want to reject my offer.

"No, it's all right. You available to talk for a while?"

"Yea, of course." I smile in satisfaction. For some reason I was nervous he would reject a conversation. Am I really that desperate and needy?

"Good." I spurt out, at a loss for words, then shut my eyes in fatigue. My pillow suddenly feels like heaven, forming around my blond locks and curving to fit my comfort. I can't fall asleep…I can't…I…

"Roger?" My eyes snap open, drool beginning to drop out of my mouth when I spring awake.

"Huh? Yea?" I say drowsily, afraid of how long I was actually asleep for.

"I asked you how your day was. Am I really that boring?" I feel so horrible for falling asleep on the phone, after all, I was the one who called him all excited to talk. Then I completely drift away.

"I'm so sorry…I'm just so tired, I didn't mean to fall…"

"Hey. Don't worry. You have a lot of stress. It's no big deal. I'll try to keep the conversations exciting." He quips with an adorable lightness to his voice. I smile with a hint of a blush touching my cheeks, and wrap the phone cord tighter around my finger. Do I deserve him? If it were me I would be so jealous of Carrie I'd probably explode. But he keeps his cool. He actually tells me it's all right. He knows that Carrie is important to me. I admire him for that.

"What would I do without you?" I say out of the blue, then smack my head in response. Where the hell did that come from? He makes a joke and I respond with substance? Fuck.

"I don't know. I was thinking the same thing." Now that just makes it worse. He's so fucken amazing I can't stand it. He knows exactly what to say. Even when he's hesitant or stuttering, it's all perfect.

"Great minds really do think alike." I say after a long pause, as if it took me that long to think of a good joke to follow. I shouldn't have made a joke. Fuck I'm screwing everything up.

"Guess so." He chuckles nervously, when I hear a high voice quietly say something to him in the background. "Jesus, Rog, I have to go. My mom is throwing a fit. She is expecting a call I guess. Sorry." My heart sinks in my chest, but I nod in understanding.

"It's okay. Parents…I'll talk to you later?" I don't know why all of a sudden I'm sounding so desperate, so pleading in everything I say. Mark must bring it out in me.

"Yea. I'll call you again once I'm allowed." His voice stings in annoyance, and I laugh softly at his attitude. "You should sleep. You need it." He sounds genuinely worried, making me realize just how lucky I am.

"Okay. I'll try." I glance down at my mattress, feeling the harsh springs with my fingers. It's doubtful I'll be able to fall asleep for long.

"I'll uh…mi…talk to you tomorrow then." He hesitates, but I know what he was going to say. Maybe it's because his mom is there, maybe it's because he's afraid it would be too much.

"All right. Bye Mark."

"Bye." I place the phone back and fall against my pillow, my eyes shutting and my body immediately becoming unconscious. I guess falling asleep isn't as hard as I thought it would be.

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"Roger! Rog!" I'm woken up again in a less than desirable way, as the sounds of my mother's screams fill my ears. I'm able to get myself out of bed to open the door, rubbing my eyes and building up the energy to yell back.

"Yea?" I say as loud as possible, then lean my head against the wooden door while waiting for an answer.

"Carrie's here!" My heart beats roughly in my chest the second I hear her name. She's here? Why would she come over? I thought she hated me.

"Okay." I say quietly, almost to myself as I check the clock. Eight. Holy shit. I slept completely through dinner. Thanks mom. At first I contemplate staying in my room, but then Carrie would just build up more anger towards me. No, I have to face her. I just don't want to fight. I want to apologize, but I know she won't take it.

My body almost forces itself down the stairs until I reach the front door. Carrie is sitting on the porch, on the bench my mother bought spontaneously last year because she thought the porch looked empty, even though it looks worse now with this bright green bench. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, deteriorating her make up and causing her to sniff every few seconds. For a brief moment I just watch her, hating myself for being the reason she's crying. How could I have done this to her?

"Car…" I say gently, opening the door completely and stepping out onto the porch. Her skinny frame rises up to stand in front of me, her skirt blowing in the wind and goose bumps becoming visible across her pale arms. She sighs heavily, letting a small smile show on her lips. This brings tears to my eyes, and stings my heart. I grasp her quickly, pulling her into my body and embracing her shoulders. I want to say something…apologize…beg for forgiveness…anything. But I just can't think of the right words. For now, silence is a virtue.

Her sobs become violent, shaking both of us, and my lips connect with the top of her head to soothe. I doubt I'm of much help, but to my contentment she seems to settle down afterwards. Her fingers grip tightly to the back of my shirt, and I realize that she is not only shaking because of the tears. It's freezing outside, and she has what seems like a tank top on. I remove my button up shirt, placing it around her, and lead her into the house. I still don't know what to say, baffled at the fact that she would even come over. But I'm so glad she did. I've missed her so much.

After we sit down on my bed, I'm rushed into another hug, this one shorter. It feels so good to hold her again, like we are friends. But I know there is more to say. More than silence. She grabs a tissue from the box beside my bed, wiping at her cheeks and nose, then taking in a deep breath. I mentally prepare myself for anything she might say, telling myself that I can't forget Mark. When she's done, she crumples it into a tiny ball and tosses it into my garbage, not even looking to see if she's made it in…which she has. I can't help but smile. Even now, even when she's been sobbing, even when our relationship's core has been shifter, she still shoots baskets into my garbage.

"I missed you. Like I couldn't believe. And I hated myself for it." Tears form again in her eyes, but she's able to pull them in, not letting them affect her confession. I cling our hands together, needing some sort of physical reassurance that this won't end horribly.

"I missed you too. I thought you hated me…" She breaks our eye contact, drifting away mentally and throwing me for a loop. "Do you hate me?" I ask desperately, afraid of her answer.

"I thought I did. I tried to convince myself I did. But I don't. I couldn't. I love you." Her fingers fumble between mine, grasping harder, but all I can do is nod. I can't talk. "I don't know exactly why you and Mark hurt me so much. You're my friend and I want you to be happy. Even if it's not with me. I can see how much you like him, and it's stupid of me to deny it. It's stupid of me to be mad at you for needing something. So, I'm sorry." Her voice deepens, and I see moonlight bouncing off of the tears running down her cheeks. I press our foreheads together, trying to offer comfort. For myself and for her.

"I never meant to hurt you. I'm so sorry…I didn't think that…"

"You're my best friend. I don't want this to come between us." She interrupts me, grasping my wrist firmly with her free hand.

"Me neither. But…" Mark flashes through my mind. I want to be able to tell Carrie about my feelings for Mark without feeling guilty. I need my best friend to listen.

"What?" I build up the courage to tell her, afraid of another outburst, when she looks deeply into my eyes. I trust her. I can say it.

"I don't want to feel horrible for telling you about Mark. He's…well…I don't know. It's only been two weeks, but I need to know I can confide in you without hurting you." I place my thumb on her chin, rubbing it lightly back and forth before she pulls away from my touch.

"Oh." She gets up off of the bed, leaving my hands absent and alone. I situate them together on my lap, unaware of what she is thinking.

"I'm sorry. I know it hasn't been that long but…I like him." I explain, and she nods vigorously, pacing across the room like a madman. Her eyes remain focused on the floor while she wears a hole in the carpet beneath her, and all I can do is stare.

"I know…I know." She closes her eyes tightly, rubbing her forehead roughly with the palm of her hand before finally standing still. Her hand moves to her hip, and she straightens out one leg while letting the other one bend slightly in. The look in her eyes is one of confusion, as she carefully searches mine for a sign of what I'm going to say next. But I'm staying quiet. "I just…I don't know if I can take the thought of you two…I mean you can tell me…I just…I don't want to be…around…I…" Her fists clench at her sides, and I stand up swiftly to pull her into yet another embrace.

"Shh…" I whisper into her ear, rocking softly back and forth as her fingers grasp to my shoulders. "I'm sorry. You don't need to hear about Mark and I. I know…that was stupid. We're fine." I sigh reluctantly, knowing that I want to talk to her about Mark, but also that I can't. Not now.

"I'm sorry. I'm not a good friend…"

"What?" I break from her grip and brush the stray pieces of hair out of her face. "Carrie, you are the best friend anyone could ask for. I completely understand. I'm the one who is a shitty friend." She takes a second to breathe before nodding playfully. I smirk at her smart ass reply, then beam even more when I finally see her smile. I stare into her beautiful eyes, and for a second, I'm reminded of Mark's bright blue ones. I miss him. How horrible of me to think of him now, but it's true. Maybe I've underestimated what I feel for him. Maybe it's more than just a high school relationship. Maybe this will become more. It's too soon to tell.

After about an hour of hugging, talking, apologizing, reassuring and enough tears to flood a village, Carrie finally leaves. I close the door with a sigh. I needed that. Now all I need is Mark.

I rush to the phone, leaning my stomach against the rough mattress once and again and dialing as fast as my fingers can. After two rings, I start to get anxious. Then I hear a click at last.

"Hello?" It's not Mark, but a woman. Shit. His mother.

"Hi, is Mark there?" I ask in my most polite voice, when I hear something in the background.

"Mom, gimme the phone! Hello?" Mark says in a strangled voice, and a small chuckle escapes my lips.

"Hey. Excited?"

"Well I like being on the phone with…umm…I like the phone." Mark stops, remembering his mother is somewhere around, throwing me into a fit of laughter.

"Hmm…interesting." I say, and he sighs on the other end.

"How was your nap?"

"Carrie came over." I blurt out suddenly, unable to transition into it smoothly.

"Oh." He says after a brief pause, and I moan quietly. "What happened?"

"It's all okay now." I explain vaguely, and let my head fall to press against the mattress.

"That's good." Mark says calmly, with only the smallest twinge of jealousy hidden in his voice.

"I miss you." I repeat from before, feeling once again very vulnerable. But his soft giggle on the other side reassures me.

"I miss you too." He whispers, and I squeeze the phone into my ear, trying to listen harder, as if I can get closer to him. "A lot." He adds, and for this second, I feel like all of this Carrie drama was extremely worth it.

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Notes: I have an extremely bad headache, and I'm sorry again for the long wait for an update, but I hope this satisfies. No kissing! That's a record for me man. Review please!