"Umm… umm… umm," stuttered Chandler. "Oh, is there something on my dress?" Monica spun slowly, showing off her flat belly and flawless figure. "N-no, its just… you look so… different." he said, trying (and failing) not to stare as she turned to walk on the plane. "Dude!" Mr. Geller nudged him and he apologized; but he wasn't sorry, not really.
He was seated with her on the plane. They sat in awkward silence. She wouldn't even look at him for the first hour and a half of the five hour trip to Florida. His repeated stolen glances at her showed him much more than he had seen before. Things like her chiseled features and unique bone structure stood out to him in a new, beautiful way.
Finally he broke the silence, " I'm not exactly the best conversationalist, so don't feel obligated to answer me, or even acknowledge my existence for that matter, but I was sort of wondering… why you hate me?" he flinched away like she would hit him or something. Monica giggled, " I don't hate you; I don't particularly like you, but…." "So, um, why don't you," he asked, "like me, I mean. We've got a long flight ahead of us and I'd like to think we'd both rather have someone to talk to than someone to shoot an occasional glance, or in your case murderous glare, at." She looked up into his deep green eyes and found herself falling into their pit of kindness. In that one moment she felt as though she could tell him anything and everything. And she did.
When she finished he just sat there for a moment. Finally he said " Wow. Look Mon, can I call you that?" She nodded, "look Mon, I'm so, so sorry. I was an idiot; in fact, I still am. I should've never ever said that, and if I could, even if I hadn't known you were there at the time, I would go back and change it. For the time being though, will you please be my friend?" he begged. "Of course I will," she said, "Everyone deserves a second chance; and you just earned yours."