A/N: Hey everyone! I'm sorry it always takes me forever to update. I've been reading your reviews, and I just wanna thank you guys for reading this story and giving honest feedback. Anyway, here's Chapter 25! Enjoy! :)

CHAPTER 25: Stories Untold

"Aaand... Cut! We're done!" Rodrick exclaimed after I finished delivering the last line, a grin spreading across his face from ear to ear. He pressed the stop button on the video camera, and then raised his hand for a high-five.

I raised my hand as well, but instead of giving him a high five back, I smiled and patted his shoulder. "Not quite yet. Don't get too excited, Heffley. We still have to edit, remember?" I said as I walked past him, stepping over the mess on the floor.

He turned. "Well, yeah. But at least we're done shooting all the clips, right?"

"Yep. Good progress." I forced a smile again and then sat on their couch to rest for a while. Well, it indeed was a productive Monday afternoon.

Rodrick's grin slowly faded. He noticed something. "Okay, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Huh? Nothing. Nothing's wrong," I replied immediately.

"You're not jumping with excitement or freaking out. Aren't you happy?"

"I am happy! See?" I showed him my biggest smile. He almost laughed. "I don't have to jump up and down. I might trip over my costume." I was wearing a long dress during that time for my part in the video.

He sat down beside me, heaving a sigh. "I'm tired."

"Yeah, me too."

"But I had fun. Did you?"

"Of course."

We glanced at each other, and then I looked away. After that, there was a moment of silence. It was like we were both in deep thought, or maybe he was just waiting for me to say something. I cleared my throat and then got up from my seat. "I think I should help you get these things back upstairs before your mom gets home," I said.

"Ah yeah. Right."

He got up from the couch as well and started with the tripod. Right after that, he ran upstairs to put both the tripod and the video camera back in his room. Meanwhile, I gathered the scattered papers and props on the floor and put them in the two boxes we used as containers for costumes and props. Rodrick got back downstairs just in time to help me with the boxes. He must have noticed that I was struggling to carry the box I had with me, so he took it and told me to carry the other one instead because it was lighter. I did, and then followed him up to his room. We were silent all throughout, probably because we were too tired to talk.

After we brought everything upstairs, I realized I was still in my costume. "Oh. I should get probably changed already," I told Rodrick. He nodded. I took my clothes and went to the bathroom.

As I was changing, I mentally cursed myself for thinking about it too much—about what Mae told me about. It's been almost a month since the party and Rodrick still hasn't told me a thing. The thought was bugging me the entire time I was at his house that he almost noticed it. Good thing he didn't keep asking questions or it might have spilled out of me. And I didn't want to be the one to bring it up. He might just deny, deny, deny (I heard Rodrick telling that to Greg a few days after the party happened).

These thoughts were still floating in my head when I opened the bathroom door. Apparently Rodrick was right outside the door and I almost bumped into him. "What—"

"What took you so long?! Really need to go pee," he said.

I stepped aside as he rushed in the bathroom and closed the door. "You could have used the bathroom downstairs!" I said.

"That one has no lock!"

"It had one before your stupid party happened," I muttered in a lower volume.

"Whaat?!" he called out.

"Nothing!" I went back upstairs to Rodrick's room.

I threw the costume into one of the boxes and then pushed these boxes to one side of the room. Rodrick literally just left everything lying around in the middle, except for the video camera, which was on his bed. I wanted to leave already, but I figured that it would be rude to just take off without Rodrick knowing. To pass the time, I sat on the bed and took the video camera to check the clips we shot these past few days. The latest one was, of course, the one we just took which was me in my costume reciting some lines from the book. Gosh, I looked so stupid. I looked at the other videos, which were of Rodrick doing his part. Some included both of us when we reenacted some scenes, and some of those took a billion takes. It was all so ridiculous and funny, especially the bloopers.

I kept moving on from one clip to the next, casually browsing. One of those was just me eating chips in their living room before we started shooting. Another was me sitting on their couch, dressed in my regular outfit, reading the script, and then trying to hide my face away from the camera. Both were around 30 seconds to a minute. What a total waste of memory space. I was about to delete both clips when Rodrick suddenly appeared on the door.

I turned the video camera off and set it down on the bed. It sure took him longer in the bathroom than I expected. I gave him a questioning look, hoping he understood what I was asking.

"I… Nature called." he replied.

I shouldn't have waited for him to say it. I got up. "Well, uh, I should go now."

"Oh. Where you goin'?" He shrugged, his hands in his pockets.

"Um, home… to do my homework."

"Oh. Yeah, okay. I'll come with you downstairs."

"Hey, you should keep those boxes. Your mom might ask if you're throwing a costume party or something," I said while walking past the doorway, just to strike up a conversation while we went downstairs.

"Haha, very funny." He rolled his eyes as he closed the door. And the conversation was over.

I took my things which I left on the couch in the living room, and then headed to the door.

"So, are you coming tomorrow?" Rodrick asked when he opened the door for me.

"What?"

"We're going to edit the videos right? Are you coming here tomorrow or am I coming to your house?"

"Oh yeah. Uh, I don't know yet."

He frowned. "Don't you have like a schedule listed down or something?"

"Let's just decide tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright." He scratched his head.

"Bye," I said, and then walked away before he could respond. I just needed to get home. I couldn't hold another awkward conversation with him especially with that thought I've been trying to push away since Thursday last week.

That night he sent me a message on Facebook. I already accepted his friend request a few weeks back, since it was the practical move because of the project. Anyway, his message said: Hey, is everything okay?

I didn't reply.

The next day, Rodrick was by my locker when I came by after our last class. I considered turning away and walking back to where I came from because I was low-key trying to avoid having a conversation with him, but I really needed to get my History book from the locker. And besides, he already saw me.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey." I opened my locker.

"Okay, I'll get straight to the point. Is there something wrong? Are you avoiding me?"

"What? No." Partly false.

"You've been more cold these past few days. Last night, I sent you a message. You didn't reply—"

"I... forgot to. Homework."

"I tried to catch up with you after our classes today, but you always left the room immediately," he added. When I didn't respond, he continued. "What's up? Is it the project? Are you mad at me? Did I do something?—"

"Well did you?" I snapped. Damn it, April. Think before you say something, I thought to myself.

Rodrick was taken aback by that. "Um… I-I don't know... That's why I'm asking."

"Just like I thought," I muttered.

"Okay, so you're totally mad at me. What did I do? Just tell me."

"You know what, nevermind."

"But—"

"Forget it, Rodrick. We're cool. I'm not… angry with you or whatever." I shut the locker door, and then started walking away.

Rodrick followed and soon he was walking beside me. "Okay… Uh, so what's the plan for today?"

"What plan?" I noticed a few students staring at us again while we made our way through the halls.

"The videos. Are we going to start editing today?"

I forgot about that. Ugh. "Oh. Yeah, sure." We did have to start editing. The deadline's in less than a week.

"Great, okay. I can drive us home."

Along the way, we decided to just start editing the videos at his place, since the video camera was there and he has a computer anyway. I helped out a bit, but went home early because I still had to do my History homework.

We did the same every afternoon for the rest of the week. I went to his house and we'd help each other edit. At times, Rodrick and I helped each other with the homework, but we only did a part of it together since we also wanted to finish the video as soon as possible. I was glad Rodrick was fully cooperating with the project. Besides his annoying habitual jokes and sarcasm, I honestly felt like I was working with a different person compared to our first weeks of no progress. As the week went by, these meetings with Rodrick for the project helped me get preoccupied with work to do, so that I wouldn't have to think about that thing bothering me. I thought it shouldn't be too big of a deal anyway. The busyness worked for me. Our conversations almost went back to normal again. That Thursday I even ended up having dinner at the Heffleys residence. We had a very short homework so Rodrick and I finished it together and then we really got into editing the video (and watching and laughing at the bloopers) that we lost track of time. That night we finished, like, 90% of the video.

. . . . . . . . . .

"April, how's your English project going?" Claire asked during lunch on Friday. Mae and Olivia were with us too. The boys were with their friends that day. Anne never showed up at our table again. I haven't been seeing her around, except during class, where there's no chance to chat.

"We're almost done!" I replied. "How about you guys?"

"Yeah, we're almost done too. We just have to add a few more things to the paper."

"Oh, so you guys are just passing a paper? I thought we all had to present."

"No, we have a presentation ready. But we have to pass a paper too, remember?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The paper that we all have to submit, aside from the presentation."

I almost spit my food. "Paper? What paper? You're kidding, right?"

"I'm not! Seriously, April. Mr. Martins mentioned that like a month after he gave the project and assigned partners. You were there right? You're never absent in class."

I buried my face in my hands, cursing under my breath. "Ugghh, I completely forgot about that! It was probably around that time when Rodrick and I weren't talking to each other."

"It's just like a write-up version of your presentation, anyway. Summary, characters, all that stuff. Piece of cake! Don't worry, you'll finish it." She patted my shoulder.

"Hey, speaking of Rodrick, have you guys talked about that night at the party?" Mae asked.

I lowered my hands a bit and stared at her, trying to keep my annoyance hidden. Just when I was forgetting about it already, she decided to bring it up. From my peripheral vision I saw Claire quickly shaking her head, glaring at Mae.

"Perfect time to bring that up, Mae," Olivia commented bluntly.

"Oh. I'm-I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that, April," Mae said, looking down at her food.

I put my hands down. "He still hasn't mentioned it."

"Well, did you ask him about it?" Mae asked.

"No. Not directly, at least," I answered.

"Maybe you should—" Mae started, but Claire cut her off.

"Just forget about it for now. You'll end up talking about it soon anyway. It'll probably just come up," she said.

"Can't believe he still hasn't told you. I mean, doesn't it even bother him that he lied to you?" Mae added.

"Mae, this is Rodrick Heffley we're talking about," said Olivia.

Those words alone explained it all. Mae nodded. Claire also showed a sense of affirmation. They got the message in a snap. Of course, everyone who knows Rodrick would know what kind of person he is. For some reason, though, I found myself not fully agreeing with Olivia, seeing how Rodrick had been acting these past few weeks compared to when I first met him a few months ago… But who knows? They've known him longer, so I can't just dismiss what they say about him.

. . . . . . . . . .

"Rodrick, did you know we have to submit a paper for the English project?" I asked him as we made our way to my locker.

"What paper? Like a note or something?"

"A paper, as in the printed version of our video presentation."

We got to my locker. "Huh. I didn't know we could print videos," he said, looking at the ceiling and probably imagining what a video printer would look like.

I rolled my eyes and hit him with one of my books. "Seriously!"

"Ow!" He rubbed his upper arm while I dropped and took things from my locker. "Okay, I get it. I get it. Though I don't remember him mentioning that."

"Me too."

"Maybe we don't need to do it! We didn't hear him mention it anyway."

"That's not how it works, Rodrick."

"Okay, okay! We're almost done with the video and we'll get this done, alright? Calm down. You're freaking out again."

"It's just... I didn't want to cram anything this weekend."

"Stop worrying, will you? You need to relax. We got this." He ruffled my hair.

I glared at him for a split second and then fixed my hair. "Fine." I closed the locker door, and then we both started walking to the parking lot.

"So what's the plan for later?" he asked.

"Um, we're almost done with the video... Maybe you can finish it, and then I'll go home to work on the paper?"

"But what if I need to ask you something about the video? I mean, you need to see it, right?"

"Oh right... And you can also help me out with the paper once you finish the video."

"Yeah. My place?"

I sighed. "Okay. I'd just have to get my laptop from my house when we get there." I had been riding with Rodrick on the way home all week. We both got pretty used to it already.

After what seemed like 20 minutes, or less, Rodrick parked his van in front of their house. We did as planned: I went home, left the things I didn't need, took my laptop, and went back to Rodrick's.

When Greg opened the door, I greeted him. "Hey Greg."

"You know, Rodrick really should give you a key to our house," he said.

I stepped inside, and Greg closed the door behind me. "Ha, no need to worry about that. We're almost done."

"Rodrick's upstairs," he replied while he made his way back to the living room.

When I got to his room, I knocked. There was no answer, so I just let myself in. I knew it was rude but in my defense, he wasn't going to open the door because he was asleep on his bed. I shook him about three times, and as expected, that didn't work. So here's what I did next: I turned on his computer, inserted the Löded Diper disk I found on his desk, plugged in the speakers, turned up the volume, placed them near Rodrick's ears (but not too near because his hearing might get damaged and I didn't want to go through the hassle of bringing him to the hospital and all), and then played a song.

"AAH!" Rodrick shot up from his bed, eyes wide open with his hands covering his ears.

I immediately paused the song because it was too loud. Both of us needed a moment to recover. "And you guys call that music?" I said. This annoyed Rodrick even more that he kept cursing me for the next two minutes. I found it a bit funny, actually.

After he calmed down, he sat down on the bed again and said, "Took you so long to get back here, so I took a nap first."

I snorted. "Hey I was gone for like 15 minutes. And don't blame me. I tried waking you up the nice, gentle way."

"Didn't feel a thing. Your little hands need to put in a little more force."

"Maybe you shouldn't sleep like you're hibernating for winter."

"Well, maybe…" he started. I waited for him to come up with a retort as I sat on the bed next to him and turned on my laptop.

"Maybe what?"

He groaned. I smirked, and when he saw me all he said was, "Whatever." He got up again. I thought he was going to start working on the video already, but instead he headed for the open door. "I'm getting food downstairs. Want anything?" he asked me.

"Uh, yeah sure. I am pretty hungry. I'd like a—"

"Too late." He went out and pulled the door to a close.

"Wow, thank you," I said. No one heard it, of course. Anyway, I focused and started working on the paper.

Rodrick went back up after about 10 minutes. I was halfway through describing each character by then, only looking up to see him come in. He was carrying two sandwiches, one of which he was holding and already half-eaten, and the other on a plate. He closed the door behind him and, to my surprise, walked towards me and handed the plate.

"Isn't that yours?" I asked, because I assumed that both sandwiches were for himself.

He shook his head. "Nah, I'm not that hungry anyway."

I was a bit surprised that he's giving me food. "You sure?"

"If you don't take this now, I'd gladly volunteer to eat it."

"No, I'll take it. Thanks." I got the plate and started eating as I continued with the paper.

"Knew you're as hungry as a bear," Rodrick muttered as he went back to his seat to work on the video.

"Excuse me?" I said, a little defensively.

"Ssshh, I'm working," he whispered in a rather sarcastic tone. So annoying.

After about two hours, I heard Rodrick say, "YES!" He stretched his arms up high, and then pushed himself away from the desk, his chair rolling along and stopping right in front of me. "Video's doooone, Prescott!"

"Well, I can see that," I replied with a smile.

"You probably have to see it one more time before I render and export it." He rolled his chair back to the desk.

I moved over to the side of the bed near the desk to watch the video. Five and a half minutes of Les Miserables and our embarrassing faces. But it wasn't that bad, actually. All we could then hope for was our effort to be worth the grade we were going to get.

"So, everything's good? No more last minute changes before I hit this button?" Rodrick asked one last time.

"No more. Save it now!"

Rodrick did, and the 'Rendering' window appeared on the screen. It would take another few minutes before the 'Exporting' window would appear. We gave each other a high-five. Big smiles of relief were on our faces. One less requirement to worry about!

"Great," I said, moving back to my area on the bed, in front of my laptop. "Now you can help me finish the paper!"

"Uh, can I take a nap first or something?" he replied.

I glared at him. "A nap for you would mean sleeping for an entire night, so that would be a no."

"I'm kidding. Ugh, I want this done as much as you do." He went to sit beside me on the bed. "What else is missing there?"

"I'm almost done with the summary. Just the analysis and our reflection left."

"Wow. You write fast."

"I was looking at our script and the PowerPoint I made before. Almost everything's there, actually. Just need to, you know, turn them into paragraphs."

"Hmm. Maybe you should consider doing my papers sometime." He bumped my shoulder as he said that.

"Don't get your hopes up on that," I said. I heard a snort from him but he didn't reply.

For the next 40 minutes or so, both of us focused on the paper—well, actually, Rodrick was just watching me type. He reasoned out that it was me who said everything was in the script and PowerPoint anyway. I didn't argue anymore because I just wanted to finish everything already. At one point he rested his head on my shoulder, pretending to fall asleep. When it was getting too heavy already, I shook my shoulder so he'd sit back up. Then he strummed his guitar for a bit. After a while, he got bored with that, so he took his drumsticks and began making beats out of whatever—his bed, my shoulder, the wall, his desk.

Eventually it got so annoying. "Rodrick, can you keep it down? I'm trying to work for real here," I said. Of course he ignored me. "Rodrick. Rodrick." I called him out again. "Rodrick!"

"What?!" he finally replied. He was seated on his computer chair, making some sort of rhythm out of the plate and his desk.

"Can you stop that?"

"Can you stop that?" he imitated me.

I tried to stop myself from laughing so I just threw a pillow at him. "Hey, stop!"

"Wanna play that game, huh?" He grinned and threw the pillow back at me. I threw it back at him. The pillow went back and forth hitting our shoulders and faces. Then at one point Rodrick just got up from his chair and started hitting the pillow at me like a little kid.

I instinctively covered my face with my arms. "Rodrick, stop! Wait—hey! You might hit my laptop!" I took it and quickly placed it on the desk so he won't step on it.

Rodrick kept jumping all over the bed and laughing. "Not. Stopping. 'Til. I. Win!" he said while hitting me with the pillow.

"Who said you'd win?" I also wasn't able to stop myself from laughing with Rodrick at this childish war. I did my best to avoid him and steal the pillow from him but he just wouldn't let go. Since Rodrick kicked his other pillow off the bed, I had nothing to use against him. So I grabbed the blanket he was stepping on. He didn't see it coming so he slipped. I gasped—Rodrick's bed isn't that big, so I was worried that he might fall on the floor and hurt himself. Good thing that he only landed on his back on the bed. That was my chance. I started hitting him with the blanket. It was a lame weapon of choice. There wasn't much of an effect so he just chuckled and soon both of us were up. It looked like we were having a sword fight, except that my sword was a blanket and his was a pillow.

"Not giving up yet, huh, Prescott?" he smirked. I just shook my head.

Like I said, the thing about Rodrick's bed is that you couldn't run around like it was some kind of arena. We just went back and forth, and switched places, and somehow, we tripped on each other's feet. So I fell backwards, and Rodrick just by my side. He turned over, and continued with the pillow hitting. He really wasn't going to stop.

"Alright, alright! You win! You win!" I said in between giggles.

He stopped hitting me with the pillow. "Yes!" He laughed and then laid on his bed as he threw the pillow to the edge.

Both of us were panting by then and my hair was all over my face. "You win, you win…" I muttered, trailing off as I looked at him. He combed his hair out of his face with his hands, propped himself up on the bed with one elbow, and then looked at me too. My smile slowly faded for a moment, realizing that his face was close to mine. Not super close, but… just enough for me to gaze at those eyes. Those hazel brown eyes. Looking at them brought me back to that moment when we were at the roller rink. But putting that aside, this moment gave me a weird feeling inside—a feeling that was familiar. My heart beat faster, but I was pretty sure it wasn't from all the jumping on the bed. Was it like this—did it feel like this when we were about to kiss at his party? He smile started spreading across his face, his teeth showing. And I smiled too, seeing him like that.

"Rodrick?" a woman's voice from outside interrupted the moment. Both of us instinctively looked at the door. Soon we heard some footsteps that seemed to be climbing the stairs.

"Susan," Rodrick whispered.

We scrambled to fix the bed and ourselves before Mrs. Heffley entered the room.

"Rodrick?" his mom called again.

I got up from the bed and sat on the chair near the desk, fixing my hair so I'd look like a decent human being who didn't just lose from a stupid pillow fight. Rodrick got up as well, pushing the chair I was sitting on, so he could stand over the computer and pretend he was doing something there. He handed me my laptop and threw the other pillow just before the door opened to reveal Mrs. Heffley.

"Dinner's re—Oh, hi April!" she greeted when she noticed me. "I didn't know you were still here."

"Good evening, Mrs. Heffley." I smiled at her.

"We're finishing our English project, mom," Rodrick said.

"Well, both of you can take a break and come down first. Dinner's ready. April, you're welcomed to have dinner with us." She beamed at me.

I was shy to eat with them again for the second time in a week. "Oh, that's okay. You don't have to worry about me, Mrs. Heffley. I—"

"It's fine, April. I insist."

I glanced at Rodrick and he just nodded once. I looked at his mom again and said, "Okay. Thank you, Mrs. Heffley."

"Alright. Hurry down, both of you." She closed the door and went ahead.

"Your mom's really nice," I told Rodrick. He had a stupid grin on his face when I looked at him. "What are you smiling about?"

He held his arms out like a champion and walked to the middle of the room. "The mighty Rodrick has won the battle of pillows!"

"Whatever." I shut my laptop and then took my phone so I could inform my mom that I wasn't going to have dinner at home. Rodrick and I then went downstairs to have dinner.

After eating, both of us sat on the bed as I continued the paper, and he just watched what I was doing. Yeah, maybe he did help out a little bit, like 5 words or something. After a few minutes, he got up to check the video's progress. "Ten more minutes," he said, slumping onto the bed.

I updated him with my progress as well. "I'm starting on the reflection already."

"I thought you write fast. What's taking you so long to finish that? Didn't you say that you just turn everything into paragraphs?" he asked, moving behind me and peering over my shoulder to see what I'm typing.

"Hey, coming up with good content isn't easy. My brain gets tired too, you know. And did the pillow champion forget about the pillow fight already?"

"My brain is tired too."

"Really? Unbelievable. I didn't know you use it."

"Hey!" He lightly pushed my shoulder.

"Kidding! I'm kidding!" I raised my hands up for a few seconds and then went back to typing. "I know you use your brain... sometimes."

He responded with a fake, annoyed laugh. And then he started ruffling and playing with my hair. After a while though, I felt that he wasn't 'playing' with it anymore. I wasn't sure if he was tying it to a ponytail or... braiding it?

"Rodrick… what are you doing with my hair?" I asked.

"Tying it all up in one knot," he said, though I was pretty sure he wasn't serious about that.

"If my hair gets all tangled, I swear—"

"Relax."

"Are you…" I reached backwards to feel my hair. Confirmed. "You're braiding my hair?"

"No," he replied in a defensive tone.

"Rodrick Heffley knows how to braid hair? That's so not you," I commented. He didn't respond.

The silence and him braiding my hair reminded me of a fond memory. "My older brother used to braid my hair a lot when I was younger," I told him.

He paused from braiding. "You have a brother?!"

"Yeah."

"What? I thought you were an only child." He continued braiding while we talked.

I found myself smirking, though I knew he couldn't see my face. "Well, I'm not. Lots of things you don't know about me, Heffley."

"So how come I've never seen him here? It's like he never existed 'til you mentioned him. Your parents never even mentioned him whenever we had that family dinner thing over the summer."

I took a pause from typing. "Heh. Well, they never really talk about him."

"Why?—You know what, you should tell him to come visit sometime. Both of us could hang out or something." He held out his hand by my side, asking for a ponytail. I gave him the one on my wrist. He finished braiding and tying it.

I reached backwards again to feel my now braided hair. Definitely not perfect because there were a few strands sticking out. Still couldn't believe he knows how to braid though. I turned to face him, smiling. "Not bad, Heffley."

He shrugged. "Well, I am a talented person with talented hands."

"Haha. Whatever." I was about to start working on the paper again.

"So where is he? Your brother?" Rodrick asked.

My smile disappeared. "Uh. He's…"

"Ah, I get it. College?" I didn't reply when he said that. He kept asking anyway. "Is he coming home for Christmas?"

"Uh, no."

"Why not?"

"Because he… he passed away two years ago." I was looking down at the laptop but I wasn't typing anything.

"Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't know." Rodrick said.

"It's okay," I replied. Then there was a few seconds of silence. I couldn't continue typing because I couldn't formulate my thoughts.

"What happened? I mean, if it's okay to talk about it."

I put the laptop beside me first since I couldn't focus anyway. I took a deep breath. The scenes played out in my mind once again as I told Rodrick what happened. "Well, one night he got into a big fight with mom and dad. I don't really remember what they were fighting about, but after that, he left. The last thing he told me was that he's going to go over to his friends' house. Then next thing we knew, a policeman was at our door telling us that my brother got in a car crash." I started feeling a lump in my throat.

Rodrick was looking at me with eyes that seemed to express sympathy for the first time. Meanwhile I looked at him from time to time, but for the most part I was just staring down at my fingers.

"The police told us that the accident involved my brother's car and a truck. They said he was most likely drunk driving because they found a bottle of beer and a pack of cigarettes lying around in the car… But I know my brother. I know he's not an alcoholic and he didn't smoke." I wasn't there to witness he accident, so I could only imagine what really could have happened.

"Maybe he just didn't tell you that?" Rodrick said.

"I don't know. I don't think so. He was never the reckless type. And, you know, I got to bond with him a lot. He was like my best friend." I took a deep breath again, so I don't break down.

"You guys must be really close," he said.

"Yeah," I replied. "That's why sometimes I just, you know… I couldn't help but think that I could have stopped him from leaving that night." I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. "We were still able to talk before he left. If only I convinced him harder, you know? He would have listened to me. He always did—"

"What are you talking about? Have you been blaming yourself for the past two years?" Rodrick interrupted. I didn't reply. Silence meant yes. "It was an accident and you had nothing to do with it."

"But if only I was able to convince him to stay, he'd still be here, right?"

"You don't know that—"

"I could have done something so that accident didn't have to happen. But… all I did was keep quiet and watch him walk out that door." My voice cracked. A few tears started streaming down my face. I immediately wiped them away. I shouldn't be like this in front of someone I'm not even sure I could consider a close friend.

"Hey, hey…" He moved closer and, to my surprise, pulled me in for a hug—a big, comforting hug. And it felt so genuine. At one point I thought, Is he really hugging me? Once he let go, he placed his two hands on my shoulders and looked at me straight in the eyes. "Shit happens. But it doesn't mean that it's your fault, okay? Stop being so hard on yourself," he said.

I nodded and forced a slight smile. "Wow. Big words, Heffley," I half-joked. That didn't mean I fully agreed with him, but he had a point; and it did make me rethink about this entire thing. He hugged me again, which made me even more emotional. I tried my best to hide most of it, to bury it all back inside. "I'm sorry. I'm such a mess. Sensitive topic," I said, sniffling.

"Not a big deal. Don't worry about it," he replied. He said it as if he'd already consoled a friend before, which I honestly couldn't imagine.

"I just… miss him. I miss him so much."

Rodrick was quiet for a short while. And suddenly he said, "Oh... so he's him."

"Huh?" I broke free from the hug. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"Uh, what? Nothing."

"No, no. You said 'So he's him.' What's that all about?" I asked, wiping away the tears left on my face.

"No. I said, 'heesh… mim'."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Well, it kind of does. Heesh is like, you know, shortcut for cheese, and, uh…" He kept thinking of some weird explanation to cover up what he said, until he saw me frowning at him. I knew he was just trying to avoid the topic. "Okay, you got me," he said, finally. And then he cleared his throat. "I have something to tell you." I told him to just spit it out, although inside I got a bit nervous about what he was going to say. He continued, "That night at the party… Well, they didn't make me eat a tablespoon of hot sauce. They dared me to kiss you."

"Ew," I said. I didn't want to make it too obvious that I was already aware of what happened. But… the party? I've been waiting for Rodrick to tell the truth about what really happened back there, but how exactly was all that connected to my brother?

He paused after I reacted. For a second, it seemed like he was hesitant to continue. Maybe he noticed that I didn't go ballistic or something. But he continued anyway. "I know. I didn't want to because… you were so wasted. But then everyone was cheering to do it and then there you were asking me if I was scared to do a little dare."

I've heard this story before, but for some reason hearing it from him was like hearing it for the first time. "I said that?"

"You did. Here's the funny part. We were gonna go for it… and then you passed out on my shoulder." He was waiting for me to laugh or maybe smile. I didn't. It wasn't funny at all. Noticing that, he just kept going. "So I carried you upstairs, right? And then we had to stop by the bathroom because you had to vomit so bad, and I had to, like stand beside you hearing all that puking noise," he said. That was probably the most embarrassing and disgusting night of my life. "And then you were crying."

"I was?" Maybe that's why he didn't look like he saw me tear up for the first time.

"Yeah. You were crying so hard. No idea why. You just said 'I miss him so much'. I thought you were talking about an ex-boyfriend or something."

"Oh. Ugh. This already happened before."

"It did?"

"I got drunk at a friend's party a few months before we moved here. My friend told me I was all happy and then suddenly I was crying about my brother," I told him, but he didn't need to hear the details. "That's why… Do you remember when we were at your car and you were filling me in on what happened at the party, I asked you if anything else happened?"

"Yeah, I remember that," he said.

"So did anything else happen? Might as well spill everything now," I said.

He stopped to think, and then shook his head. "Not much after that. I brought you here in my room, and let you sleep on my bed. And don't worry, I didn't bother you anymore. After everyone left, Greg passed out on the couch, and I fell asleep on the floor."

"Is that all of it?" I asked. He nodded. "Okay. Uh, now I have something to tell you… I already knew about the truth or dare thing before you told me."

"Oh... So that's why you don't seem so surprised to hear that part." So he did notice my lame reaction. "How?" he asked.

"Mae told me. But I guess she didn't know about what happened in the bathroom," I answered. Oh, okay was all he could reply. I continued, now getting straight to the point, "What I don't get here, really, is why you had to lie. Why did you lie to me, Rodrick?"

"I don't know, I just…" He stopped and looked somewhere else, avoiding eye contact.

"I mean, how hard is it to just tell me the whole story? Were you even planning on telling me the truth?"

He stared at the space between us. "Yeah, it's just that…"

"It's just that what?—"

"I thought that if I told you… things would get awkward between us. And I didn't want that to happen," he said, though the second part was barely audible I almost didn't catch it.

"Oh." I didn't know what to say. He scratched his head. Cue the awkward silence. "W-Why would it get awkward? I mean, it was just… I was drunk… and…"

"See? There it is."

I took a deep breath and just said everything I intended to say. "What I'm saying is… It was just a dare, and I was drunk, and we didn't even kiss, right?" Rodrick and I already have enough awkward moments on our list, so why would this make any difference? Right then I remembered how some people at school were staring at us and how Matt called us lovebirds. But then what do I have to worry about? Our project is almost over, which means I don't have to… spend as much time with him anymore. Huh. I think I've already forgotten what that was like. But… it's not like I'd miss him when he's not around, right? Or… I don't know.

"Yeah, well, you're right," he replied, interrupting my thoughts. "I'm sorry for not telling you the truth."

It was only my second time ever to hear him say sorry. And both happened on the same day. Wow. Well, I sort of heard him say it once before, at the party his band played at—the party we were thrown out of. Yeah, that was when he thought I was different girl he was trying flirt with. But when he said that word twice today, I knew he meant it. "Apology accepted. Thanks for telling me everything, Rodrick. I really appreciate it. Now we can move on and not bring it up in front of our other friends."

"Right."

"And thanks for taking care of me at the party. And for being a good listener."

"Yeah, sure. Just... don't make a big deal about it." He smiled.

I smiled back. Looking into his eyes, I thought that maybe Rodrick wasn't so bad after all. I know he's not going to stop being annoying, and lazy, and all sorts of Rodrick-ness. But this long conversation with him was a turning point. It made me feel that he's more than the image he's trying to project, that he could actually be a good friend—someone you can trust. I guess I do trust him already. Yeah, and looking back at what has been happening recently… I realized that his soft, caring side was showing—him putting in extra effort for the project, actually taking care of me at the party, giving me something to eat when I was at the library all throughout lunch, listening to me being dramatic about my life, giving some advice, giving a real, comforting hug… It was… sweet of him. Those little things, plus our annoying banters, would probably be some things I'd miss a lot when we finish the project. I couldn't exactly explain what I felt, but I knew that a part of me didn't want hanging out with Rodrick to end just like that.

"Okay. Wow, how did we get from the paper to here? Heh," I said, breaking the short silence (and my long train of thought). I took the laptop and started reading were I left off on the paper.

"I was messing with your hair, that's how we got here. Haha." He got up and went to the computer.

"Braiding it." I started typing again.

"Whatever you wanna call it."

"Speaking of braiding, how on earth did you learn to do that?"

Instead of answering that, he said, "Oh look, the video's done! Wanna check it out?"

"That's great. I'll watch it later. Gotta finish this paper first. I'm almost done, I think."

"Suit yourself." He shrugged. Then he wore his earphones and started watching the video.

By the time he finished, I was working on the last few sentences of the last paragraph of the paper. He sat down beside me and watched me type. "Are you done yet? Are you done yet? Are you done yet?" he kept whispering for two whole minutes.

"Sshh! Almost. But if you don't shut up I'm not gonna finish." He then kept quiet and just rested his chin on my shoulder. After around three minutes, I yelled, "Done, finally!"

"Yes!" Rodrick gave me a high-five.

"Let's print this, and then I'll watch the video one more time before I go home. It's getting pretty late."

"Yeah, printer's over there." He pointed to the desk. It was right beside the computer. "I'll set it up."

After he set up the printer and connected it to my laptop, we started printing the paper. That feeling when you've finally finished something you've been working hard for the entire semester.

"Hey, you didn't answer my question earlier," I told Rodrick, who was standing over his computer, closing the other windows. I was by the printer, sitting on the computer chair and waiting for all the pages of our paper to be printed.

"What question?"

He probably wasn't paying attention because he was checking the progress of the video when I asked that. "I was asking you how you learned how to braid people's hair."

"Oh that. I told you, it's just pure talent." He shrugged.

"I don't believe you," I said.

"Then don't."

"Come on! I'm just curious. How come I get to tell something about me—and really personal stuff, mind you—and you don't?"

He groaned, probably annoyed that I kept on asking. "It's nothing. When I was really younger, I hung out with my childhood friend a lot. Sometimes I braided her hair."

"Ooohh Rodrick had a childhood girlfriend," I teased.

"Friend that's a girl. Not girlfriend. But that was a very long time ago."

"Aww, how cute! You guys spent a lot of time with each other?"

"Yeah, doing typical stuff that kids do." He was finished with his computer so he sat on top of his desk as he told the story. "Playgrounds, and all that. We were classmates in pre-school, so we saw each other every day."

"You must be really close, then?"

I saw a slight smile on Rodrick's face while he nodded. He must have been remembering some of the happiest parts of his childhood. "Yeah. Anne was pretty fun to be with. We were almost like siblings, except that we're not—"

I was smiling too, until I heard a familiar name. "Wait a minute, did you just say Anne?"

Realizing what he had said, the smile on his face disappeared as well.