THIS CHAPTER IS FOR ALL YOU WONDERFUL REVIEWERS! I love you all and thank you very deeply for your feedback and encouragement. I'm superbly happy you are enjoying the story. One more chapter to go, and I promise I will not abandon this story to oblivion. The last chapter shall appear. Until then, enjoy the update and the shipping goodness (because let's face it, T.J. and Spinelli are one of the greatest couples to come out of this show-how can I not adore them?)
The loud knocking coming from the front door alerted the entire house to the guest. Mrs. Detweiler was walking towards the door when T.J. flew past her.
"Igotit," he said so fast that it became one word. Mrs. Detweiler had a lecture and three good health tips on the end of her tongue for her hurried son. She kept them to herself, though, after noticing through the kitchen window that it was Spinelli coming to call. T.J. deserved the time with his friend. Quietly, she slipped back into the kitchen.
T.J. opened the door. There she was in all her glory...well. Sort of. Not her usual glory. She was in a dress. A pretty, silky, red dress with lace straps. Because of the material's shorter length, T.J. noticed there were no shoes on her feet. That is what brought T.J. back to the fact that this was Spinelli before him and not some European fashion freak that came knocking. Her hair was windblown and her cheeks were flushed from her run over here.
She looked amazing.
In the half-second that T.J. needed to come to that conclusion—enough time for his heart to swell with happiness and his cheeks to hurt with how wide his smile was—Spinelli took that half-second to accomplish a different goal.
"Where are they?!" She practically shouted.
Another half-second passed where T.J. gathered the words to answer her was too long for Spinelli's current amount of patience. So she took action. She grabbed T.J.'s hand and dragged him upstairs.
"I need those back," Spinelli told him while tugging on his arm. T.J. nearly tripped a few times while trying to keep up. "Do you know the torture I've had to go through? Dresses, skirts, blouses—everything. My mom is trying to kill me! I cannot believe she hid my clothes. I should have known they would be here. But I've got 'em now. You do not win this, Mom!"
Spinelli released T.J.'s hand as soon as they reached the top of the stairs. She first went into T.J.'s room, half out of habit and half out of suspecting the hiding place of her clothes. T.J. watched in shock as she tore through his closet, checked under his bed, and sifted through each of his drawers. When she found nothing, the fiery girl turned to her best friend and stared him down with a glare that nonverbally threatened his very existence.
"Where are they?" she asked a little too calmly, a sure-fire way to tell that she was on the war path.
T.J. got over his shock rather quickly. He felt like he should be mad at her for ripping through his room or sad that she hasn't properly greeted him or happy she was there. A mix of all three emotions brought him to smirk at her and say, "Hi, Spinelli. Good to see you to. Missed you."
This brought Spinelli down a notch. Her cheeks turned red. Her stare turned to the ground. "Hi," she said shortly. "Can I please have my clothes back now?"
At that phrase, T.J.'s happiness was brought down several notches and replaced with more sadness and anger. Wasn't she happy to see him? Didn't she miss him? What was wrong with her?
"Uh...yeah. They're in the spare room."
T.J. followed Spinelli as she hurried down the hall and into the room where her things were hidden. There they were, nicely folded on the bed, waiting for her. Spinelli leapt onto the bed. She briefly flew through the air until she landed on the soft mound below. Her giggling and shouts of joy rang throughout the house.
"Aw, I missed you guys. I thought you were gone forever. You have no idea what I had to go through while you were gone." Spinelli found her leather jacket and hugged it to herself. "I missed you most of all. I won't ever let you out of my sight again."
T.J. watched from where he was leaning against the door frame as Spinelli put on the jacket, tucked it around herself, and hummed in pleasure and relief. His sour mood turned worse.
"Glad to know you missed your clothes," T.J. said bitterly. "It's not like you haven't seen me for a whole summer or anything. I'm replaceable. Your clothes apparently are not."
Spinelli's shocked look melted as she began laughing. She got up off the bed and threw herself at her best friend. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight enough to remind him of her almost unnatural strength. T.J. tried to remain mad at her—he really tried—but this was his Spinelli. He missed her way too much. So he found himself returning the hug. She smelled exactly like he remembered. She's still short too. T.J. isn't too big himself, though he did take up football freshman and sophomore year of high school, but he always liked the fact that he was taller than Spinelli.
When Spinelli finally pulled away, T.J.'s anger had dwindled significantly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to brush you aside, but I needed my clothes back. It was a matter of life and death." At T.J.'s skeptical look, Spinelli shrugged. "Well, my life anyway. People treat me differently when I wear a skirt. It sucks. Apparently clothes not only make the man, they make the woman too—any which way they please."
"What do you mean?" T.J. asked.
Spinelli scowled. "Nothing. I'm just glad it's over now. Things can go back to normal with everybody." Spinelli turned back to her pile of clothes and began gathering them up. "It's good to see ya, Teej. Wanna go get a soda at Kelso's? Your summer has got to be better than mine, and I wanna hear all about it. Can you help me carry my clothes first? They've been away from home too long, just like their owner."
T.J. chuckled. "Sure Spinelli." The young man moved forward, totally prepared to be loaded up like a donkey with his friend's burden when he caught sight of Spinelli's face. She was fiddling with the end of her dress, a solemn look on her face. When she saw T.J. staring, she brought the smile back on her face. She tried handing him some more clothes, but T.J. took them and dumped them back on the bed.
"What gives, T.J.?" Spinelli asked.
"What gives with you?" T.J. asked. "Why are you sad?"
"I'm not sad!" Spinelli exclaimed.
"Then what was that look?"
"What look?"
"That sad look."
"I already told you, I'm not sad."
T.J. crossed his arms. For a solid thirty seconds the best friends had a stare-down. Spinelli was the first to cave. Years of being under T.J.'s leadership have her in the habit of trusting her best friend and giving in to what he wants even if it sounded crazy. He's proven himself a great leader and best friend. Maybe he can understand her this time too.
Spinelli crossed her arms and looked anywhere but her friend. "It's just...I'm—I was treated differently. It's the clothes fault. I needed my old clothes back."
"Why are the clothes at fault?" T.J. asked.
"Ever since I came back, things have been wrong. Did I tell you I got hit on by Lawson?"
T.J.'s hands clenched into fists. "Yeah, I heard. But Lawson's done horrible stuff to us before. He shouldn't be the one to make you freak out. It takes a lot more than him being an idiot to phase you."
"Well, it wasn't only him," Spinelli admitted. She sunk down to the floor, leaning back against the bed. T.J. sat on the floor beside her. Spinelli stayed quiet a minute, glancing at T.J. every now and then. T.J. was almost afraid now. Spinelli? Uncomfortable? Around him? This wasn't good. This wasn't even normal.
Spinelli took a deep breath and tried phrasing her problems in a way her friend might understand and forgive her for. "It wasn't my fault my mom wanted to convert me into a doll. Sure, she says she likes me like I am, but she also tries getting me into all this new stuff. Now, she actually managed to do it, and it's...I've gotten some weird reactions."
T.J.'s eyebrows furrowed in thought. "The guys treated you differently?"
"Not—entirely," Spinelli admitted. "They at first treated me differently, but then they didn't. Everything was normal."
That was really confusing. T.J. needed clarification. "Alright, Spinelli, not seeing a problem here. You're back. Everything's like it should be. We are all together before school ends."
Spinelli looked extremely uncomfortable. T.J. tried to put his arm around her, but the spitfire teen squirmed out of his hold. Spinelli was never one for excessive physical contact outside of violence, but it was a rare occurrence when she turns it down from T.J. The amount of trust she had for him granted him certain rights the others were restricted to.
"Teej, you gotta answer me honestly here, ok?" Spinelli said to her friend without taking her eyes off the floor.
"Always, Spinelli."
Spinelli's eyes cautiously trailed up to meet his. "Am I mean?'
T.J. would have laughed if she hadn't look so scared. "What? Spinelli, what gave you that idea? Of course you're not mean."
Spinelli looked away from her friend again. "I just...you might be wrong. The others think I'm mean."
"What?" T.J.'s mind raced to try and find an explanation. Had the others done something to Spinelli? Said something? They all seemed ecstatic after seeing her again. Happier than all summer, even. "I don't understand. Our friends think you're great."
"Yeah, sure," Spinelli snorted. "That's why they flinched at me when I got close. That's why they opened up to me—after I got nice clothes. These stupid clothes—" Spinelli bunched up the skirt of her dress between her fists. "—made me look like someone else. Someone nice. Someone who wouldn't beat up their friends. I beat up Vince. Did he tell you that? I got mad at him. I was rough with all the others. They were afraid of me. I saw it with my own eyes. I'm mean. I'm horrible. I'm...you all deserve better than me. Better than a mean friend."
T.J. grabbed Spinelli, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him, allowing her to cry against his signature jacket. If friendly physical contact was rare, tears were nearly unheard of when it came to Spinelli. T.J. had only seen her cry three times in his life, this being one of them. One sob-fest was enough in his opinion. He didn't need his best friend losing it, especially not over some reason she made up in her mind. His strong, brave, kind-hearted, beautiful friend didn't deserve to cry. She deserved to be happy all the time, but T.J. completely understood that sometimes people just needed to let it out. Really, after a summer apart from all her friends only to come back and think they see her totally different was enough of a reason to shed a few tears.
Spinelli cried until all that was left was a few sobs here and there with the occasional shudder. T.J. rubbed her back, trying to soothe her as the last of her tears feel. When she tried pulling away, T.J. kept her close with a strong arm around her, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder.
"Sorry, I—"
"Shut up and listen, Spinelli," T.J. said in the voice that he uses for when he is carrying out a scheme—authoritative yet calm. "You've been gone all summer and let me tell you, it has been one of the worst summers of my life. That's even taking into account the summer you all were gone to different camps. Everyone was out of it. Yeah we had our own problems as you heard, but the biggest problem was not having you around. It's like our whole momentum was thrown off! We suffer more without you than with you—and that doesn't mean you make us suffer.
"Really, Spin. What even put the idea that you're mean in your head? Ok, so sometimes we have to watch our steps when you're around, but that's because you punish us when we deserve it. There hasn't been a time when you hurt us that we didn't bring it upon ourselves. Vince told me afterwards that you knocked some sense into him and that he was grateful for it. You helped him get over his fear in your own special way. You care. You're not mean. You're tough. Big difference. Sure, you can be a little forward with your words and actions when it comes to other people, but that doesn't mean you're bad. I've seen you use them for good plenty of times. Remember when you went after Harold Bertoni after he poured chocolate milk in Newton Greene's locker? He didn't mess with anyone months after you got through with him."
T.J. found his mind trailing off towards the conversation with his sister he had earlier. He remembers the reasons he spoke then and decided that verbalizing them now would be a good idea.
T.J. took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Spinelli, you know how wonderful you are. Don't let these little things get in the way of your awesomeness. You are brave, strong, and beautiful with or without the fancy clothes. Sure, sometimes things change. You gotta remember we are in the middle of our teenage years. If movies and meddling adults' opinions are to be trusted, then we are changing, finding our own style, you know? I mean, I even went through a showbiz phase. Remember that?"
Spinelli snorted—a fairly unattractive sound with her stuffy nose, but it was a laugh nonetheless. The memory of T.J. in a flashy outfit on stage next to Mikey was a hilarious thought that never failed to make her snicker. "You looked like a dork."
T.J. chuckled. "Yeah. Good times. But that's my point. I tried and found out it wasn't for me, but I did realize that showbiz is a lot like student council. You gotta play the part in order to actually pull off the production. Whatever this clothing phase has got you freaked out about, realize that something good is bound to come out of it and that we've all got 'em. We're still going through them even. Just...don't shut us out because of it. I don't think I could go another day, let alone a whole summer, without you again."
Spinelli was quiet a moment before asking, "Really?"
"I'm insulted you even have to ask."
T.J. pulled her closer, hugging her tightly against him, relishing the fact that she was here with him and not an ocean away. Spinelli wrapped her arms around his torso, returning the embrace. After a few minutes of the soothing gesture, Spinelli pulled away. She turned away from T.J. and wiped at her face.
"Great," she grumbled. "Now I'm a mess. This is why I don't cry."
"Nah, it's good. Getting it all out. I've got a sister. She's cried more than her fair share." T.J. got to his knees and did a quick search of the clothing pile. He found what he was looking for and sat back down. The article of clothing—a red-orange knit cap—was placed on Spinelli's head. She fixed it so it lay correctly. "There. That's more like it. Actually, you look a lot like you did in Third Street. Red dress, black jacket, knit cap—it's all there."
"But no striped stockings and no boots," Spinelli pointed out.
"Ah well. Close enough." T.J. ruffled Spinelli's hat, messing it up.
Spinelli rolled her eyes in good humor before fixing it once again. When that was done, Spinelli looked up and at T.J. and met his eyes. "Thanks, T.J. Really."
T.J. felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders and peace settle in its place with a dash of happiness. "You're welcome, Spinelli. Really." It wasn't until Spinelli looked away, blushing, that T.J. realized he had been staring. He cleared his throat and got to his feet. He offered a hand up to Spinelli who took it. "So, how about we get your clothes back to their rightful place then head down to Kelso's. I could go for a soda."
"Me too!" Spinelli said heartily. "Just let me wash my face first. I feel disgusting."
T.J. nodded. "You know where it is."
When Spinelli had gone, T.J. turned back to the pile of clothing. A lot of the clothes were worn-out pieces of comfortable clothing. Spinelli always managed to pull them off. She can pull off the newer, nicer ones too, T.J. concluded, remembering how she looked in the red dress. Spinelli can do anything she wants. Spinelli is wonderful, just like he said. He knew it all along. He was glad he could make her realize it too.
T.J. and Spinelli went to Kelso's after transporting Spinelli's clothes. They also went to the park, walked passed Third Street and Fourth Street Schools, dawdled a little while by the pond, and wandered around town until well past dark. The two just didn't seem to want to have their time together end. They were catching up on an entire summer of being apart—it was going to take time, time they were both willing to give. Finally, T.J. reluctantly admitted that he should be getting home. It was twelve-thirty—half an hour past both their curfews. Spinelli agreed and walked with him back to the street where they both lived.
They stopped at Spinelli's front door. The front porch light was still on, a sure sign that Spinelli's parents were waiting up for her.
"They're probably going to be mad," Spinelli sighed. "Great."
"Sorry 'bout that," T.J. apologized.
Spinelli shrugged. "It's not the first time I've done it. Well worth whatever punishment they've got cooked up." Spinelli turned to T.J. before they reached the front steps. She pulled him to a stop and hugged him. "It's good seein' you, Teej. Thanks for sticking around and...everything else."
"Happy to be here, Spin. You've always got me," T.J. said, returning the hug, cheek against her soft hat.
The two teens stood there, relishing the happiness they were living before going their separate ways. Spinelli gave T.J. one last smile before jogging up to her front door and disappearing behind it.
T.J. stood there another minute until the front light was turned off then he headed back to his own house. He walked slowly. He was already late, no point in rushing to be late a few minutes less. His mom was probably already freaking out.
The night was cool, but not cold. A perfect summer night. T.J. hasn't felt this good since Spinelli told the gang she would be leaving over break. He took a deep breath and tried holding it in, keeping the memory forever. T.J. had plenty of cherished memories, but the ones dealing with his friends were too many to count and always his favorite. This was one memory he would pull out on a rainy day.
This night was definitely something he had to ponder in correlation with what he and his sister discovered earlier.
When he walked through the front door, T.J. was bombarded by his mother—as expected. His dad joined in after he heard the ruckus Mrs. Detweiler was making. T.J. stood there and took it with a smile on his face. That is what kept Mr. and Mrs. Detweiler from dishing out too much of a punishment. No TV for three days. Child's play. After T.J. was ordered up to bed, his parents looked at one another curiously.
"What do you suppose has him all high in the clouds? You don't think it's drugs do you?" Mr. Detweiler pondered to his wife, not too serious about the thought in dealing with their usually well-behaved son.
Mrs. Detweiler knew that look. She has seen it plenty of times in her prime. That was what made her throw out the worst-case-scenario thoughts. It was simpler than that. "No, he's simply enjoying the company of his young female neighbor."
"That's right. He hasn't seen her all summer," Mr. Detweiler remembered. "Well, glad he got his friend back."
Mrs. Detweiler sighed. A pleased smile graced her face. "Yes. Very glad...But that gives him no reason to be past curfew!"
When T.J. reached the end of the hall, the second door on the right opened up. There stood a slightly groggy Becky. Her cheeky grin broke through her sleepy haze.
"Sup, dork. I heard Mom and Dad get on your case. Must have been some night to keep you out so late."
T.J. didn't say anything. He stepped forward and gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek. Becky may have been surprised, but she was more pleased at the message it conveyed. T.J. had a great night and she played a large part in helping make that happen.
"G'night, sis."
"Goodnight, little brother."
T.J. went into his room and flopped down onto his bed. His mind had plenty to ponder, but his body wanted him to rest for the night. So—T.J. being T.J.—took action. He pulled out his phone and dialed up another one of his best friends.
"Teej?" came Vince's groggy voice from the other end. "What's going on? Somethin' wrong?"
"Vince, I've got a plan."