Thank you for those who reviewed. And just so you know. Rob is coming up at the very end of this chapter though you won't see any fluff until the next chapter. Squee. And please note that this is a very long chapter.
Heidi
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the story plot and the new characters, everything else belongs to the greatest author on earth, Meg Cabot.
A "Friends" Moment
"Oh, I am so that's over," I said to Cecelia, and plopped down on the couch.
Cecelia picked up a piece of wrapping paper off of the floor. "Why, did you not like the party I threw you? You know I took three weeks to plan that party," she teased.
I snorted. Such a typical Cecelia response.
Then I thought back to what I was thinking about the whole party.
You know, maybe I should get someone's opinion on this, so I asked Cecelia. If anyone knew what the right thing was to do, it would be her.
"Cee?" She looked up from behind the couch, where she was picking up littler pieces of confetti. See, that's another great thing about her besides the fact that she's…well, perfect. She actually likes to clean. Which is a humongous help to me because…well I don't. Like to clean, I mean. "You know Rob?"
That caught her attention. She stood up and came to sit down beside me. "Yes," she said cautiously, because she knew all—okay, all except one thing which I have sworn to never let anyone know about, except the guys at the hospital, of course—about the crap I've been through because of him.
Actually, that isn't fair. It took two people to get that fight the way it was, which actually makes me sound dumb beyond belief. Pushing myself into a hellhole of misery and all.
"Well, do you think…." I trailed off trying to think of a good way to ask her whether I should go and find Rob or not, because, well, let's just say that when I was telling her the story about what happened between Rob and me, I sort of told her the biased version, in with Rob starred as the Big Bad Wolf and me as the little innocent piggy that got eaten by him.
But before I could say anything else, Cecelia, seeming to read my mind—and I thought I was supposed to be the psychic. The part about me wanting to go and find Rob, not the part about the contorted story, held up a finger and said, "Don't."
I tried playing dumb. "Don't what?" I asked ingenuously.
She gave me a let's-get-real look and said, "I know what you're thinking about, Jess. We go through this every single year. He hurt you. Now, do you want that to happen again?"
I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat.
Jeez, leather really sticks to your thighs when it comes to the rainier seasons in Brooklyn. (a/n: I don't know if it's true or not, but just pretend it does, okay?")
"The guy has problems. I mean, come on. You went out with him, for, like two whole years and he's never told you he loves you. Now, unless you want me to set you up with one of my 'wacko cousins'" she made air quotes, mocking the way I once referred to her male cousins, who are all either Satan worshippers or gay, "like last year, you'd better clear this ridiculous idea out of your head."
I stared at her for a while and felt my throat start to close up and decided that I'd better get what I was about to say out in the open before I lose my ability to speak.
"But Cecelia, I really miss him. I think I was wrong leaving him. I think he may have been the best thing that had ever happened to me. He was my soul mate. He was the only person I could tell everything to, up until I met you. I think he could have been my only chance at happiness and I may have ruined it."
I dropped my hand down into my hands and when I did, I felt wetness. I was crying.
Oh. My. God. I have not cried since that day seven years ago.
Apparently, I wasn't the only one who had been startled by my outburst, because Cecelia was practically staring at me like I'd suddenly grow horns on my head. And maybe I had, in a way.
After she got over her shock, she pulled my head into her arms, and said, "I didn't you know you felt so strongly about him."
Well, yeah. Why did she think went around with a little frown on my face all the time? Not because Krantz was such an ass. Well, he was, but that wasn't the reason for my unhappiness. It was all because of him. The him that I thought would last forever.
She pulled my head away from her and handed me a tissue. "Jess, you know what? I think you should go see him." Then she added, just to tease me, I think. "Maybe, then, we'll all see you smile for once at the office."
I punched her in the arm playfully, but as usual my playful punch didn't exactly come out right since she rubbed her arm and said sarcastically, "Thank you, Jess. For the wet shirt and the bruise."
"Anytime," I told her. "Anytime."
A Day Later…
"This the last boarding call for flight 009," the PA announced loudly, demanding that I go show the lady on the counter my boarding pass.
Hey, it wasn't my problem that the stupid carryon bag's strap slipped out of the little gadget that connected the backpack to the strap and that it took a long time to get it back into the little gadget.
After showing the lady at the counter, Maria her name tag read, my boarding pass, I got on the plane, found my spot, stuffed my backpack into the overhead compartment, and sat down next to this rather large businessman who smiled kindly at me while I took my seat.
About five minutes later, the flight attendant—Julie, I think she told us her name was—sauntered to the front of the plane to do her little demonstration with the seat belt.
While she was demonstrating how to strap on a seat belt—how old did she think we are? Two?—I thought about what I was going to say to Rob.
I mean, I know I had a whole day to think about it, but I had to pack and talk to Dr. Krantz about letting me take a few days off work to talk to Rob—or actually to visit a sick aunt, as I informed him since it was hard enough with that excuse, no way was he going to let me go if I told him the truth.
I like to think that I'm a rather important part of the team. Being psychic and all.
But back to the whole what-am-I-going-to-say-to-Rob thing.
Then just as I was thinking about this, something cold and hard hit me. Sort of like how it would have felt if the evil stepfather actually got to hit me in that cave.
What if he had moved on and had gotten a girlfriend or was married or something? I mean, he's about twenty-five years old right now, and I don't have the right to tell him to wait for me forever because we broke up.
Suddenly, I wish I could make the plane turn back, but unfortunately, even being an FBI agent, I can't.
Indiana—
As soon as I got off the plane, I grabbed my luggage front the little luggage belt thing—I need to get my terminology correct one of these days—and headed outside to flag down a cab.
I had thought it through on my plane ride. I had a plan. The plan was that I was going to see Rob and pretend that I was here visiting Indiana and see if he's moved on or if he was still single.
Not that I was planning on getting back together with him or anything. No, I decided that I just wanted to see him and that's it…despite what my subconscious keeps telling me to do, which is get back with him.
I mean, I knew that I told you I love him and all, but sometimes love can be harmful. You know, maybe I should get more realistic and let my brain and common sense lead me instead of my heart.
Because the more I thought about it, the more I knew that I couldn't get back with him. I mean, it's been seven years. That's a long time, and maybe he's different now, or maybe I'm different now, you know? I just think it's a smart idea to stay out of a highly dangerous romance trap. Especially one with Rob Wilkins. I am just here to see him so that I can see for myself that I am not attracted to him any more.
I'm here to get over Rob Wilkins and move on with my life.
Seriously, I'm twenty-three and I need to start getting involved in another serious relationship and go on with my life. Just like the way Celine Dion suggested that one Rose girl do in Titanic in her song My Heart Will Go On. Not that Rob had died or anything like Jack did, but still.
Only things didn't exactly go the way I planned it to.
Because when I got to Rob's house—you know, to ask his mother where he lives now since he probably moved out of his mother's house by now—rung the doorbell, and Mary saw me, it looked like she was about to have a heart attack. I am not kidding you.
"Oh, my God. Jess…" she gasped.
At first, I thought she was just surprised that I was at her doorstep seven years after her son and I broke up, but I found out differently after she went, "You can't be here! Rob's in New York looking for you!"
Oh, my God. Total "Friends" flashback was the first thing that popped into my head. You know that one episode where Ross goes to London to find Emily, but Emily was in America, trying to find Ross? Yeah, exactly.
And knowing my lifelong search for irony, you could just image how pleased I was. Not. So not.
"How does he know I'm in New York? How do you know I'm in New York? The only person who knows where I am is Douglas!" I said. Okay, screeched.
Mary's voice was calmer and more soothing. "Rob went to your parents' house to ask where you were because he said that he to see you. And after three days of just standing outside your house, Douglas told him where you were. And then Rob came over to see me and ask for advice on how he should confront you. I'm sorry."
Serious headache alert. Serious headache alert. "Oh, you shouldn't be," although Douglas was going to have to look up to look down when I got done with him. "You know, I should, um, go."
Just as I was about stepping off the porch of Mary's house, she called out my name.
When I turned around expectantly, she said, "Please don't push him away, Jess. He still has feelings for you and if this means anything, he's had a terrible seven years without you. He's been miserable. He needs you."
I nodded. "I honestly can't promise you anything right now, Mary, because I don't know how I feel about him right now. I think I'm in love with him, but…it's been seven years."
She just smiled at me and said, "Good luck, Jess. Bye, dear."
Since I was in town, I decided to go and visit my family…and beat up Doug for what he did to me. Well, not literally, but you know what I mean.
The reactions that I got from my family were more than satisfactory.
I mean, my mother was practically hysterical, but in a good way. I guess.
And Douglas was especially nice to me since he was trying to suck up for what he did. Ahem. He even offered to drive me back to the airport and also giving me Rob's cell phone number so that I could be in touch with him.
But I wasn't going to call Rob; I instead, I called Cecelia to tell Rob that he should just stay at my apartment for right now. She has the keys.
Not because I don't think I can bear to hear his voice right now or anything, but because I think it'd be best if we could talk in person.
So then I had to take a plane back to New York after Doug dropped with off at the airport, telling to me "be safe" and whispering in my ear, "don't mess this up."
Since when had he been all pro-Rob? Jeesh.
Something about planes you should know.
Its ticket is ridiculously expensive.
It's no joke buying one of them. It costs a lot of money. I mean, I know I make a lot—a lot—working for the FBI and all, but it's not like I throw my money everywhere. I like to save up on money, so that I could afford to send my kid off to college or something.
But I knew I was spending my money on something that was totally worth it.
And I couldn't help but think that anything for Rob is worth it.
New York:
Another thing about planes. They make me kind of grumpy.
So that was why I decided that I was going to go to a fast food restaurant to pick up a burger to lighten up my mood. I mean, while I do not think I would want to be romantically involved with Rob again, I didn't want to repulse him or anything.
And I was also buying myself time.
Seriously, it was going to be the first time I've seen him in seven years; I wanted to make a good impression, and not make him think that I've turned into this complete freak after I left Indiana.
I had made up a speech on the plane and all, but I had completely forgotten that speech when we hit a turbulence so I was buying time—I had spent, three seventy five to be exact—to make up a new speech.
Although it turned out that the speech I made up was completely for nothing—like the first little speech—because when I opened the door to apartment, all my old feelings came rushing back causing me to forget everything.
Exactly like the way I felt when I saw him seven years ago.
"Rob."
So what did you think? Good, bad, fine? Please review for me. Please, please, please, please, please?
Oh, and by the way, in the next chapter, I'm going to write in some fluff, though I'm thinking that it probably won't be as long as this chapter.
And also note that I usually do not put up two chapters in one day.
Heidi
