Tales of The Awkward: Chapter 12 (Re-Solution)
Ron Stoppable didn't know what to think.
To say that he was a mess wasn't quite covering the bet. In truth, he was more in disarray than the post-Showtime Los Angeles Lakers.
Sedale Threatt?
He attempted to keep his misgivings hidden behind an emotionless expression as he walked Tara home. Neither one had much to say to one another since they had departed the park. Perhaps it may have been a mutual understanding between the two of what just transpired about ten minutes ago.
It was difficult to tell what his reaction was, because he didn't show much. Was he supposed to angry? How was he supposed to feel? Was he in the right to just leave Kim out there without saying much of anything? Why didn't she tell him the truth? Better yet, what was the truth?
Was the truth so damaging that she couldn't tell him?
If not for Tara hastily taking him away, he would've likely stood there all night, waiting for an answer.
They continued to silently walk until they came upon a three-story house near the corner of Commonwealth Avenue.
"This is my house," Tara pointed out. Ron nodded somberly. He turned away from her to get himself to his destination when he was tugged by his shoulder.
"Ron, wait!"
"Uh… Yes?"
"Um... I'm sorry about what had happened back there at the park, and I hope it didn't..."
Ron really didn't want to hear from her about what had happened at the park minutes ago. He looked into her eyes as she half-spoke and half-rambled on. There was something about her eyes in the moonlight. He didn't want to think about what happened at the park with Kim. Thus, he decided to concentrate on something else, namely the girl in front of him.
After about thirty seconds of Tara explaining why what had happened in the park shouldn't ruin the good time they had together, she stopped her rambling. Ron was simply staring at the blonde cheerleader. It didn't scare her, but then again, she wasn't totally exhilarated either. Her heartbeat began to shoot up in anticipation. What was he going to do?
Her answer came in the form of a pair of lips taking her own. Her sky blue eyes widened. It must've taken her ten seconds for her to realize that it was Ron's lips.
'Oh... He's...:'
Finally! Tara had waited all evening for this to happen and now it was finally, and at long last, it was happening. Even better was the fact that it was better than what she had imagined it would be. She wanted to absolutely do cartwheels and somersaults right now... well, if Ron wasn't kissing her anyway.
Smitten, wasn't she?
Ron really didn't know what he was getting himself into. Heck, he didn't know when he decided to lip-lock with his date. All he wanted was to get his mind off Kim. So, of course, in typical guy fashion, the first (or second) idea that came to him was to kiss Tara goodnight, and NOT because he had a good time up until the fiasco at the park or even because Tara had clearly liked him.
He attempted to pull away when he felt a pair of slithering arms encircling his neck, pulling him back in.
You see, when you're confused about how you feel about another person who could possibly be your love interest, this is where you would break the lip-lock. It happens in most romantic comedy movies, no fooling! But in the mascot's case, he pulled away because he was afraid of what this may escalate into.
His eyes widened considerably at the girl in front him. She had almost looked like she was in a trance as she blankly stared back at him. His conclusion was that he was either the greatest kisser on the known planet, or he made a mistake more grave and inauspicious than when the Minnesota Twins let go of that overweight, oft-injured designated hitter-slash-first baseman from the Dominican Republic in 2002.
"I-I," he struggled to find the words. Maybe he was entranced as well because it had been his first kiss. He began to go red in the face, his level of panic rising as the girl continued to stare back at him.
It appeared to be the latter in his mind.
"I-I've got to go," he said in a hushed tone before almost running off down the street, leaving a confused Tara in front of her house.
He thought kissing Tara would be part of the solution, but it wasn't. In fact, it opened up a brand new can of worms for him. Tcha, he didn't even know what the solution was. All he knew was that while he was kissing the blonde girl goodnight, his mind was only on one thing, and it wasn't her.
The blonde cheerleader stood there near the walkway to her home, perplexed and delighted at the same time. Still, Tara managed to gain her bearings and stumble her way to the unlocked door and enter her house. Since she was the last one inside, she promptly locked the door. Locked, however, were not the thoughts she had about Ron; He was so mysterious during those last twenty minutes. She thought that Ron would a little unnerved, or even angry by catching Kim spying on them, but that didn't seem to be the case. Tara knew how close they were as friends, and to a degree, she knew how Kim felt about him. Then... maybe... it didn't matter how Kim felt.
Revelation!
Her eyes grew wide at the thought. Ron must not have cared about how his best friend felt about him because of her! Ron Stoppable was, in effect, choosing her! She began to put it together. What he said in the restaurant... the kiss just a few minutes ago.
Anyone know what time it is?
Swoooooooon Time!
The girl nearly collapsed on the staircase at the memory of Ron kissing her moments ago. "Mmmm," she cooed as her body gradually went as warm one of those fine furnaces. Oh, yeah... things were going to heat up between her and Ron in the future, just like it heats up in the Northeast during the summer months.
(Warning, Tara; it's not the heat, it's the humidity.)
Kim Possible didn't know what was more painful: the aches and pains from falling nearly two stories out of a tree onto a patch of thorny bushes, or the ache of her best friend walking away from her without saying a word to her.
To make matters worse, it was well past the hour of eleven, which was her curfew, and she was limping through the neighborhood. Everything that happened this night felt like a bad dream. Now that she had truly seen the error of her ways and the consequences that followed, she wondered what she was thinking by spying -- not 'keeping surveillance' on her best friend. Monique warned her even before she disembarked on this suicide mission of sorts. Speaking of her, in addition to Ron, she may have a lost another close friend earlier as well.
After several minutes of painful gaiting through the quiet neighborhood, she got to within meters of her home… How hard could it have been to just say what she felt?
"Because... I think there may be something between us... and I don't mean open space, Ron!"
"Because I feel that you've grown on me, Ron. You've grown on me like losing the big game grows on the Philadelphia Eagles."
"You've got to believe me, Ron! The Devil made me do it! Stop me before I kill again!"
Any one of those explanations... well, maybe not the last, could have been acceptable rather than saying nothing and standing there as frozen as an ice rink. She had to let out a grievous chuckle at another thought; she remembered a few nights ago, when Ron told her that he had a date. He didn't want to tell her, and she insisted, because they were the best of friends and they could tell each other anything, no matter what the consequence was.
Not only did she break into Ron's privacy, but she broke her own word.
The redhead opened the front door and stepped inside the Possible home. She wanted to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. Well, what she wanted to do preferably was wake up from this nightmare and since it wasn't a nightmare and was reality; she would be fine if this nightmarish evening ended. Kim walked upstairs, wincing in pain with every other step on the staircase.
The extent of her injuries weren't known, much like the extent of how much she screwed up with Monique and Ron. The comparisons to her transgressions earlier in the evening could be as bad as Jimmy Rollins' proclamations.
After all, every fourth-place team are the ones to beat.
Kim just wished that this night would just come to an end without further incident. There was just no kind of good that came out of this chaotic evening.
"Kimmie? Where have you been? What are you doing in so late?"
And on top of all that, she was going to be grounded for a week. It was her mother's voice from behind her. Kim pounded a fist on her bedroom door before pressing her head against it in weary frustration. Everything was just crashing around her, or so it seemed.
"Kim?" Mrs. Possible asked again. Something must've been wrong with her long daughter. She went over and placed a hand on her eldest child's shoulder, the younger redhead turned around to face her mother, a distraught look in her eyes.
Mrs. Possible had rarely seen the kind of expression that graced her daughter's face. The calm that Kim usually displayed was a quality that she admired. She wasn't going to jump to conclusions, but only a few people could stir up Kim like this.
She refrained from asking probing questions. "Bad night?"
"Yeah, mom... bad night," she replied sadly.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
The teen heroine sniffled. "No, mom, I'm fine..."
She knew that her daughter wasn't telling the truth. It seemed to her that whatever Kim was dealing with, she wanted to deal with it alone.
What Kim had said wasn't the first lie of the evening, and it probably wouldn't be the last lie she was ever going to say in her life. If there was anything she could do to avoid a disastrous night like this, a little bit of honesty would go a long way…
It was kind of like a little talent would have done Taylor Hicks some good... if he wasn't 60.
Ron Stoppable was stuck. And by stuck, not your-hands-are-stuck-to-flypaper stuck, but Sonic 3 Carnival-Night-Zone-Act 2-on-that-blasted-drum stuck.
The weekend blew by like any common Nor'easter without him noticing it. It was pretty unbelievable that his entire weekend was spent that deep in thought. Now it was Monday, and he was stuck on that Carnival Night Zone drum. In fact, some of the reason why he was stuck on that drum was of his own doing. It only took him five minutes that Friday night to realize the foolish mistake he made.
Kissing Tara to get his mind off of Kim? That was almost like consistently eating at a fast food joint and complaining about being obese… it was like ramming one's head into a wall to avoid unconsciousness, or more similarly, like fighting a war to achieve peace.
(Is that S-Chrome, on the left side of politics, again? There are LAWS against that.)
Now he was feeling guilty. But why was feeling guilty? He had nothing to feel guilty about! He told Kim the truth about his date. She said at the time that she was all right with it. Why, if anyone should be guilty about what happened, it should Kim, yo!
Now, if only he believed that.
Why he couldn't believe that Kim was in the wrong was a twisting, constricting question underneath that blond mop of his. Kim couldn't be right all of the time in her actions. For crying out loud, she was stalking him that night. Stalking was wrong, it was always wrong… and for goodness sakes, she didn't tell him the truth. Wasn't the truth instrumental in any relationship, be it friendship or other 'ships above that?
He should be steamed at Kim. He should have given the riot act to the tune of Dan Hawkins. While it wasn't inter-murals or DIVISION ONE FOOTBALL!!! that they were talking about, all the experts would have said that he should have given it to her good.
Still, there was no reason for Ron to feel as guilty as he did. On one side, he wanted to go over to Kim's place and talk, but at the same time, he wanted for his red-haired companion to come over to him and explain why she did what she did. Because, cot-dang-it, he was so not the one to blame here. He wasn't! Yeah, K.P. was the fearless leader out of the both of them, and she did a heck a lot for him... and... Well, he did still have that slight, nagging attraction toward her.
Heh, slight and nagging?
slight (slahyt) adj.
1. Small in terms of amount or degree.
2. The margin of the Boston Celtics missing the playoffs this year. The dictionary enjoys blatant lies as well.
3. Getting a nice, healthy bulge in your cargos when thinking about her without garments.
nagging (nag'ing) adj.
1. To find fault or complain in an irritating, wearisome, or relentless manner.
2. Coach Tom Coughlin.
3. "I'm not going to tell you again, Ron. Kim likes you and you like Kim! God, why don't you ever listen to the nice narrator guy?"
attraction (uh-trak-shuh-n) noun.
1. The act, power, or property of attracting.
2. Providing pleasure or delight, especially in appearance or manner; pleasing; charming; alluring: an attractive personality. (attractive)
3. Ronnie's tongue just about dragging on the floor at the sight of his best friend in a black dress.
Diagnosis: Oh, yeah... slight, nagging attraction for sure.
Who exactly was he fooling? If it hadn't been for that slight feeling of attraction, he would have felt as guilty. Uh, right?
Not really... or, really? Or...
Oh, yes... Ron was stuck on that gal-darn drum... and worse yet, school started in two days. There wasn't a refrigerator large enough for the young man to thrust his head into and try to forget all of this madness. He was stuck in between what his big, strong, unwieldy head, and what his warm, fleshy, illogical heart, was telling him. His head, usually ignored by Ron, told him to be unforgiving, unapologetic, and vindictive. What right did have spying on him? None, that's what. He deserved, at the very least, an answer and he didn't get that.
And, if he did relent before Kim did? Oh, well, then he was a total slave to his best friend. A weakling that was ready, willing and able to let the girl walk all over him without any provocation.
(Ah, the dangers of having one's "manhood" on the line! Ron wasn't a man yet, and already it was the line. Tough break, kid.)
His heart, which he and every Disney-related protagonist followed often, urged patience and forgiveness Kim was the closest person to him... so why should he push her away due to a misunderstanding?
The old ticker also told the sidekick dropped another suggestion his way.
"Don't feel outraged or angry at her, Ron... you should be flattered."
Excuse me, flattered?
The Battleground: and we don't mean Michigan, Oregon, and New Hampshire
"Flattered? Flattered? Have you lost your cotton-picking mind?" A man in a black pinstriped suit yelled to a smaller man in a white tuxedo. He was much taller and brawnier than the man who was given an earful. The bigger guy looked strong and full of resolve, while the smaller guy to be as equally strong, though not as physically imposing as the man who was yelling.
Ah, the mind versus the heart. The age-old rivalry akin to the Cardinals and the Cubs had it not been so one-sided, in the Cardinals favor, for the last 65 years.
"Yes, this young man should be flattered," the smaller man, known as Heart countered, his voice full of that good ole Southern charm. "He knows he should feel that way."
"Heart, you are one cracked crab," the man in the black suit, Head, said dismissively. "This young man here shouldn't feel flattered. He should be outraged that someone so close to him would violate his privacy and truth. This Kim character should not be allowed to just... walk away from this debacle without answering truthfully about her motivations."
Boy, his head was a well-organized and well-processed individual, and maybe most shocking of all, the guy had all the deliveries and cadence of a high-priced lawyer.
Man, Ron thought. I should really start using my head more often.
"Head, you are too headstrong... no pun intended," Heart argued. "Ron knows that he shouldn't be all mad and angry at her. Besides, those negative emotions cause wrinkles."
"Oh, yeah, Heart. That's great reasoning," Head rolled his eyes.
"Anyway… Would you know why Kimberly would do such a thing?" Heart asked. The small man seemed to know the answer, and Ron was riveted enough to hear it.
"Well, it would be best if we let that Kim character explain it instead of second-guessing. There are a million different reasons why she did what she did, but the best answer would come if we heard from her and her only," the taller man explained.
"Yes... well, the Heart would know," the smaller guy said confidently. "You know Kimberly wouldn't do anything like that if she was in her right mind."
"Your point being?" Head calmly asked.
"Well, I think she felt jealous that night," he said with a smile.
"What on Earth would Kim be jealous about?"
"Simple. She felt threatened that someone would steal our Ron away from her, which is, in this case, Tara," Heart answered.
"And why would Kim feel threatened? And, furthermore, Ron doesn't belong to Kim, literally and romantically speaking, so what's that about?"
"Sure, he doesn't literally belong to Kimberly, but from what I guess, Friday nights are usually the night they do things together. And as for why she would feel threatened, why do you think?"
"Why do you think I'm asking you?" Head asked.
This was so typical in the case of emotions. Head could explain for hours on end on the way things work, but never come up with the reasons why. Heart shook his head and sighed.
"Because I think Kim likes our dear boy here," he said, a smile growing on his pudgy chin.
"Don't be ridiculous, Heart," the cynical center of the nervous system panned. "In your mind, everyone loves everyone for any old reason. You still think that Bonnie girl likes Ron because she insults him every chance she gets."
"Hey! I think she does, she just keeps it well-hidden… but I digress. But, seriously, though, I think young Kimberly has a crush on our boy,"
"You really think so?" Ron, who had been observing the debate from a distance, asked meekly.
"Hey… Wait a minute! You're not a part of this debate. Go mind your own business," Head snapped.
"Head's right. This is an A-to-B conversation, Ronald. So kindly 'C' yourself out of it," Heart added; his ire equal to Head's.
"Oh, sorry…" Ron replied weakly.
Both stared at the blond boy until he got far enough out of their view.
"Now then, before we were so rudely interrupted… How do you figure that Kim feels that way about Ron? Her feeling that way toward him would be socially illogical."
Socially Illogical? Sociological?
"Oy… Head," Heart placed a hand on the taller man's shoulder apologetically. "Not everything can be explained on what's logical or not logical."
"Illogical," Head corrected.
"Yeah, 'illogical,' Thanks, Spock," Heart said whilst shaking his head. "Now then, Ronald isn't a bad guy, even though he at times doesn't think very highly of himself."
"You still didn't answer to why he would be flattered," Head asked, confused.
"Given his self-esteem level, I think he'd be flattered," Heart replied evenly.
"So you believe that this Kim character and our Ron are on the precipice of a romantic relationship?"
"Not only do I think, I know," Heart answered with a wink.
"Wait a minute, you think?" Head asked. "You know? Thinking and knowing is supposed to be my job!"
After another day of dormancy and second-guessing on the level of Buck Showalter, Ron decided to get up and out. It was a lovely Tuesday morning, and now was a better time than any to get out and enjoy the moments of the waning summer.
Waning summer? In truth, he had to high-tail it over Middleton High and pick up his schedule for the first semester. By the way the blond was walking one would think that it was raining like cats and dogs out there. Yeah, what did happen to the summer with all the relaxing in the sunshine, and kicking back, enjoying the long days?
Oh, yeah… the days got lost in all of this awkward business. He rolled his eyes… he didn't want to think about that night anymore. In his mind, he knew that there was no way to undo it, and dwelling on it while trying to find out why Kim did it was as ridiculous as tearing off petals from a flower and droning on whether she loved him or not.
Carefree, dang-it… Ron was carefree, and even if it killed him, this day, he was going to be carefree.
It wasn't off to a good start, though.
As usual, his mode of transportation, a lamer-than-Gilbert Arenas scooter sputtered out just as he got within distance of its goal… much like the New York Knickerbockers. For all he cared, he could've left the keys in the blasted moped and no one would be stupid enough to steal it.
Ron continued his trip by walking the rest of the way. About ten minutes later, he was within the grounds of Middleton High. The hallways were loosely populated with students who either came before or after him lounging around. As he passed, a good few of them turned in his direction to take a look at him.
'Odd,' he thought. He came upon to a less-populated portion of the ground floor and quickly whiffed at the shirt he was wearing. OK… he didn't offend…
Ron shrugged to himself. It was probably his imagination getting away from him, much like the thought that Dirk Nowitzki or Steve Nash were real MVP candidates of the NBA.
He went over to his homeroom to collect his schedule and it went on without further incident. Well, except for the fact that he had Sequential Math B… which means trigonometry!
Ron shuddered.
Boy, this was what his junior year in high school was going to be… his 16th birthday was coming a few weeks or so, and on top of all that, he happened to have all kinds of problems with the opposite sex. The opposite sex problem wouldn't be such a problem if Kim hadn't been the subject of his problems.
No problem, right?
Eh… carefree, Ron! Carefree!
Speaking of the opposite, a welcoming member was to the left of him. Maybe she could clue him in on.
"Hey, Monique?"
The lovely chocolate-skin girl turned in his direction. "Hey, Ron, what's up?"
"Trigonometry. But seriously, do you know what's up with Kim?" He asked, his voice modulated to a low tone. "Because you wouldn't believe what happened Friday."
"Oh, I would…" She flapped. She quickly zipped her lip once she realize that somewhere along the lines of when she left Kim and Saturday morning, Ron and Kim must have met up, and by the look on the sidekick's face, it must not have been good… and also, little did she realize, she committed a Critical Error 110B.
It happens to the best (and worst) of them.
"What?"
Oops. Monique did not want Ron to know that she was in on what happened the entire night, even if she was unwilling to follow Kim's lead.
"Eh…" she stalled.
"Why are you stalling, Monique?"
"Uh… I'm not stalling. I just had a lot of caffeine, and I had a momentary crash," she lied, hoping that it would stir his attention away, but to no avail.
"No, Mo… You're definitely stalling," Ron replied. "What's going on?"
Monique sighed. While Ron was weird at times, he was a sweet boy, and he really seemed concerned with the actions of his hotheaded companion.
"I'll tell you the truth, Ron," she began. "Friday night, Kim came to me after she came from… wherever she came from and dragged me along with her."
"Wait… you were in on this too?" He asked incredulously. The look on her face told the entire story.
"You don't understand, Ron. I…"
"You don't have to tell him," a voice from behind the both of them said.
"Kim?"
Both pairs of eyes turned toward Kim as if a searchlight caught upon a fleeing criminal.
"I think I can explain myself," the redhead continued. "First of all, Mo, I'm sorry I dragged you into that mess on Friday, and I hope you can forgive me for it. But with all due respect, I think I can explain to my best friend about what happened."
'Of course, she had to make a dramatic entrance,' Ron judged. He had an idea to say something in regards to what Kim said...
"Explain after three days? That'll help."
...and there it vent... er, went.
Now, Kim would expect that lippy-ness to come out of Monique, especially when she was trying to make a point… but that was Ron who just said that. She opened her mouth to speak up, despite her surprise at his cutting words and found herself cut down.
"So for whatever reason, you drag Monique with you to… follow me around all night on Friday and you don't even have the decency to tell me why?" He asked angrily. "Geez, Kim, we are friends, aren't we?"
Kim was shocked to hear such terse words from the blond.
"Yes, we are," Kim replied calmly.
"So why couldn't you tell me why you did it at the time?"
"I couldn't tell you, but I'm trying to tell you now. Isn't that enough?"
"I don't know, maybe it isn't," Ron replied, his arms crossed defiantly.
Now Monique knew that if Ron had gotten wind of what was going with her and Kim 'keeping surveillance' over him, he would be upset. But right now, on the better half of three days after it happened, it seemed as if he was carrying a grudge… and he almost never did that.
"Maybe?" Kim asked indignantly. "After all I've done for you it's 'maybe'?"
No, just like it didn't take much for Frank Bruno to go down to the mat in a boxing match, it didn't take much for the fiery redhead's nerves to go… well, fiery.
"Yeah, 'maybe'," he challenged, despite the fact that he took a step back from her. "You said yourself that we could tell each other anything, no matter what, and you went back on your own word that night… so you'll excuse me if 'all you've done for me' won't change my mind."
The auburn-haired girl's ire reached a maximum level, which is commonly known as: 'Bout To Whip This Ungrateful Boy's...
"So that's how it going to be, huh? So why not I not tell you the reason at all?"
"Fine with me," Ron turned away from her.
"Well... fine!" Kim replied.
Monique promised herself that as she wasn't going to intervene on anything that involved Kim & Ron and the prospect of them getting together, but their friendship was disintegrating before her eyes, and she just couldn't stand there and let that happen... Not because in her mind that it was the right thing to do, but because there were just things that she was used to.
Monique & S-Chrome Present "Things You Can Count On"
Death.
Taxes.
Quentin Tarrantino being overrated.
The Shield being awesome.
The Red Sox faltering in the second half of the season.
Ice Cube being in a stupid family movie.
Kim & Ron's everlasting friendship.
The dark-skinned girl sprang into action as everlasting friends, Kim & Ron, were in discussion on who could say the word "Fine!" the loudest. She shimmied her way in between them.
"Hey, Hey, wait a minute here." She said. She used her body as a buffer between the dueling twosome.
"She started it," Ron complained.
"If anyone started--" Kim retorted.
"I could care less about who started it!" Monique shouted coarsely. "Now, you two are friends. There is absolutely no way that you two should be fighting like this. This whole thing could have been avoided!"
Monique's head sharply turned in Ron's direction.
"Ron — you would have been a lot better off if you weren't so blasted dense when it comes to girls all the time. Think for once, Ron! And when you do, maybe you'll figure out that Kim happens to be a girl too! And where do you get off with saying that nothing that Kim has done for you has any bearing on one mistake that she made? Has she ever turned you away from the ten thousand mistakes that you've made—even those that may have cost the life of you or her or the both of you?"
"…No," Ron muttered. His eyes darted toward the floor as fast as you can say GIMME BACK MY SON!
"You're right, Monique… I-I'm sorry, Kim," the blond began. He avoided all eye contact toward either girl.
"Oh no, Ron, Kim ain't without her faults." The fashion store clerk said, gesturing for him to halt his apologies. She turned to Kim. "You…" she said with that accusing voice that would make Joseph McCarthy proud. "…you cannot say anything! For one thing, your motto is "You can do anything," but you can't tell this boy how you feel? You follow him around all night Friday and not only drag me around, but you can't even explain yourself when you got found out, and you have the nerve to get mad because he is? I don't know who you think you are, but you'd better get over whatever pride you've got and stop blaming things on everybody else!"
Kim really couldn't say anything, as most of what Monique said what she was thinking over the weekend.
Monique took a deep breath before speaking again.
"…and finally, admit it, Kim. You were jealous that night, just like were a few months ago…"
"A few months ago?" Ron chimed in.
"Between her and me," Monique scolded.
"Now, if you don't tell this boy what's going on," she said to Kim, then turned to Ron. "And if you don't get a clue by tomorrow, I will drag the both of you into that Janitor's Closet... yeah, right over there, Ron…" she pointed down the hall. "I will lock the door, then I will kick you, and I'll beat you both, and I'll tell you two that its fair!" She threatened, her sienna-brown eyes burning with the promise of a beatdown. "Understand?"
Both parties nodded.
"Good."
With that, Monique left Kim & Ron to work out their own problems by themselves. She knew what she said was getting through to them... because if they didn't... there would be... mayhem to pay. She suffered enough from their several misunderstandings, so if nothing was going to come of it, a certain redhead and a blond were going to endure a couple of 'sufferings' of their own.
"Boy... she sure told us," Ron quipped, thumbing down the hall. Kim chuckled.
"Yeah, she did," the teen heroine replied.
Both stood there for a few moments before Ron spoke up. "Wait a sec, K.P. You pulled that whole thing Friday because you were jealous?"
The girl looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping before solemnly nodding.
"Yes," she answered. "I was jealous... because well, Friday night is usually the night we do stuff... it's kind of like tradition for us, you know? So I was kind of jealous of Tara."
"Yeah, it is kind of like tradition..." he was about to miss the point... like Karl Malone, yet he rebounded right away. "Why would you be jealous of Tara?"
Kim sighed. She knew that this was going to be the toughest part of explaining herself.
"Because… it's because I might have… feelings…"
She was almost there. Ron stared at her intently, knowing in the back in his mind that she was going to say something important.
She could do this… There was just one word left before the truth could be raised off her conscience.
"…feelings… feelings for…"
'…You, Ron! I think I might have feelings for you, Ron!' If what she wanted to say was only that simple.
"…chocolate cake," she finished, much to the sidekick's surprise.
Critical Error 593: Major Choke Job
Description: A total loss of nerve or lack of the killer instinct at the moment of truth.
Treatment: Learn from the Mavericks, don't choke!!!!
Chocolate Cake? The redhead really wanted to sink below the ground right about now. All the preparation, all of the lessons she was supposed to learn, and all for this? Forget about 'the girl that could do anything', she couldn't do this. What was Ron going to think about this? She was totally sure that she had lost his attention now. Wait… he was still there. He didn't walk away yet. She still had time to explain herself... or explain where the heck chocolate cake came from.
"What I meant to say was…"
"It's OK, K.P. I think I know what you're getting at…" Ron interrupted.
"What, really?" She asked.
"Uh… yeah," he stated. He paused for a moment. "I think."
"So… does this mean we're cool again?"
"Oh, sure," the blond said, waving his hand like as if meant nothing. "We always were. I mean, just as long as you never pull a stunt like that ever again… if so, then I'll put the training you gave me to good use," he grinned foolishly.
Despite the obvious threat, it didn't take but a second for Kim to clasp her arms around his slender form and give her faithful partner an absolute squeeze. Ron welcomed it, despite once again, his oxygen supply being cut down to unbelievable deficits. He did get what his best friend was saying… to a degree. For one moment, his mind was finally at ease. Things between them didn't seem so awkward when he kind of knew how she felt. But, just in case she didn't know.
"You know what, K.P.? I think I feel the same way about…"
She broke the embrace and looked directly in his eyes. They almost glimmered like precious gems. The boy quickly became nervous at his admission.
"…uh…"
Now he was beginning to see how tough it was for Kim.
"…the same way about… chocolate cake."
Somewhere, Cory & Topanga were shaking their heads in disgust. But who cared about them, huh? There was always a time for the truth to be known in the future.
Besides, who didn't have feelings for chocolate cake?
End of Chapter 12
Chrome Notes: As you would know, this chapter was definitely not going to be of the last few, with all the hilarity that comes with stalking people. You'll also notice that this chapter eclipses my usual 5,500 words
Questions? Comments? Afraid that the Sox (Red & White) will Spring Ahead, and Fall Back, like they always do? Do you have feelings for Chocolate Cake?
Review!
S-Chrome
