Disclaimer – Still don't own 'em. Or Bowling for Soup, despite my love for their wacky tunes. Or Harry Potter. Hopefully I've covered everything
A/N – So a few of you asked me to continue, and since I have nothing better to do, here you go! I got a request for making them older. What the hell, enjoy! Warning: Prepare yourself for fluff in choking quantities.
…
It was never quite clear when she had fallen in love with him. Maybe it was the day he suddenly became beautiful, his skin-and-bones physique filling out into lean muscle, his face becoming defined and sharp. Perhaps it was when he took her to the eighth grade dance because she had cried when Malchior Eriksson didn't ask her. It may have been the day in fourth grade when he threw a punch at a boy for calling her creepy. Or maybe it was the day he saved her from playground bullies and asked her to be his friend. In any case, Raven was not a stupid girl. But she was in love with her best friend, so didn't that automatically make her one?
She sat in her living room, curled in an armchair with a beat up copy of The Deathly Hallows in her fingers. Her eyes remained glued to the book, but a keen observer would have noticed that the page never turned. Raven was thinking.
In the next ten minutes, Garfield would be at her house to pick her up. He had called her not too long before that, informing her of her impending kidnapping. This was not an unusual circumstance. Ever since he acquired a car, the seventeen year old had spent all of his free time driving Raven anywhere and everywhere. She complained the whole way – not that she really minded.
She and Garfield had an odd relationship. Ever since day one, Raven had made it quite clear that Garfield was not her preferred choice of company. In fact, their first few play-dates had consisted of Raven reading while he played video games. They could sit in comfortable silence for hours, just happy to have a loving presence close by. Raven had learned very quickly that Garfield was orphaned. "It's the reason I go to Dr. Adams." He had shrugged. It took a lot longer for Raven to open up about her father. When she did, Garfield had creased his eyebrows together at first, and then said, "That isn't very nice. I'll never let anyone hurt you again, Raven. Promise!"
Maybe that's when she fell for him.
Throughout elementary and middle school, they were each other's only friends. Every once in a while they would hang out with Victor Stone, the kid with the prosthetic leg, but he was much older than them, and couldn't spend too much time in their company. Raven and Garfield became their own little bubble – shunned by the rest of the world because they were different. Jennifer and her posse, who grew up right along with them, began to refer to Raven and Garfield as 'The Freak Club'. Gar always shrugged it off. "The Freak Club is exclusive," he had said one day at lunch between bites of salad. "Just you and me. I don't mind that."
Could she have loved him at that moment?
And then high school happened. Raven stayed the same for the most part, keeping her signature bobbed cut and peaking her height at 5'2". She never wore make-up, never tried to look pretty. Her boobs weren't huge, and she wasn't rail thin. She remained a permanent fixture of The Freak Club. But for Garfield, he turned from an awkward gangly caterpillar into a full-grown butterfly. Suddenly, he was taller than her, something he had never been. His voice finally dropped into the rich tenor of adulthood after having been cracking throughout middle school. Suddenly, Garfield Logan was handsome. And then all of the pretty, popular girls found his dumb jokes funny. All the popular guys started talking to him, inviting him to parties. To his credit, Gar stuck by Raven's side, even though she was holding him back from his true potential in the social ladder. She heard what they whispered to him when they thought she was paying attention to something else. "Why don't you just ditch her and chill with us?" "Gar, are you gonna eat lunch with goth chick again?" "Who is that girl anyway? She's so…weird."
"She's my best friend," he'd tell them. "And we've eaten lunch together every day since first grade. Why stop now?" Nowadays, people just accepted the fact that Raven and Garfield were a package deal. It knocked Gar's reputation down a few notches, but he apparently didn't mind.
"Actually, I liked it better when we were losers."
A honk from outside shocked Raven from her memories and made her drop her book. It hit the floor with a thwap. She narrowed her eyes and sighed. Garfield was at her house to pick her up. Picking up her battered book and placing it softly on the table beside the armchair, she shoved her cell phone into her sweatshirt pocket and walked over to the door. She didn't bother yelling for her mom, her mother knew Raven was always either with Gar or at the library anyway.
Garfield was sitting at the wheel of his jeep, smiling cheekily at Raven. She blushed, and then cursed herself for doing so. The faster she could fall in love with someone else, the better.
"Rae-Rae!" he called, waving one hand. She shook her head, chuckling to herself.
"I thought you knew how much I do not appreciate that nickname being screamed in public," she deadpanned. She paused at the doorway of the jeep; or technically lack-there-of. Whatever clutter that had previously been on the seat had been probably thrown into the back seat. "You cleared a seat for me. How nice."
"Only the best for my favorite girl!" he laughed. Raven blushed deeper. He extended a hand, and she took it, allowing him to help her into the passenger seat. His grip was strong and warm, and Raven frowned slightly when he pulled it away. The second her seatbelt was clicked in, Garfield took off down the street with a squeal of rubber. "Oops. Forgot how sensitive gas pedals are, heh." Raven rolled her eyes.
"I'm going to die in your stupid jeep, aren't I?"
Garfield shot her a dirty look before patting the dashboard. "Shhh," he murmured. "Don't listen to Rae and her hurtful words."
Raven cocked an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth lifted in amusement. "Have I been replaced by a car?" Garfield thought for a moment, comically rubbing his thumb over a nonexistent beard.
"Eh. Me and you have better conversations." He shrugged. "Want to hear about dumb stuff Roy did today?"
Raven smirked, flicking her eyes off of Garfield to stare at the blurred trees to her right. "Always." Roy was one of the very popular boys who no one seemed to actually like. He had orange hair that was about forty-five percent gel and always wore these ridiculous sunglasses. Raven found him absolutely obnoxious, and Gar agreed. But he still spent time with him at school, joking around during class and making half-assed passes at girls. Very quickly, Roy assumed he and Garfield were best buddies.
As Gar began a long and complicated story about Roy's pursuit of a girl Raven wasn't exactly familiar with, she tuned out. Garfield had never needed any indication that Raven was listening – he'd probably carry a conversation with a brick wall, given the chance. So instead of listening to the long-winded tale having something to do with a bunch of dandelions and a poem, she watched him as he spoke.
Of all of Garfield's features, Raven's favorite was his eyes. They were a brilliant green, constantly sparkling with mischief and curiosity. If she looked close enough, she knew that his irises were ringed in blue, and around the pupil were streaks of gold.
As the story ended, Gar glanced over at her with a huge smile on his face, exposing still slightly crooked teeth. Raven smiled back, blushing and hoping he hadn't realized she was staring at him.
As he turned his gaze back to the road, he let out a soft snicker. "Man." He took a hand off of the wheel and pushed back his unruly blonde locks, which hadn't changed since childhood. "I never wanna fall in love. Roy is in way too deep. Just seems like a load of crazy to me."
Raven covered up her sudden burst of disappointment with a laugh that may have been a tad too enthusiastic. Gar cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Huh, that wasn't even supposed to be funny, but you laughed," he said. "Rae, you've got me pretty confused here." It was an inside joke between them; that Raven rarely, if ever, laughed at Gar's jokes.
"Don't get used to it," she said quietly, a small smirk on her lips. "It may have been a onetime thing."
His lips quirked up at the edges, Gar's signature 'I-don't-want-to-smile-but-I-can't-help-it' look. She saw it often, usually when she playfully insulted him. The radio station Garfield currently had on was playing an obnoxious ad. Raven reached over and turned the tuning knob. Immediately, she was assaulted with the upbeat music and ridiculous lyrics of "Almost" by Bowling for Soup. She was about to change it, but then remembered: it was one of Gar's favorite songs. She pulled her fingers away from the dial, albeit reluctantly. They were coming up close on his house, she would only have to endure it for a little bit longer.
Garfield snorted in disbelief. "Don't you hate this song?" he laughed. His fingers tapped the wheel to the lyrics. Raven was just thankful he wasn't singing.
"You don't." She shrugged. They were stopped at a red light. His eyes were on her – she could feel it.
"Well, aren't you feeling generous today!" he said. An incredulous note had crept into his voice. "The last time I played Bowling for Soup in your presence, you threatened to break my iPod. I'm surprised you're actually letting me listen to my favorite song!"
Raven shrugged again. The light turned green, and they lurched forward. His gaze was off of her, and she let out the breath she had been holding. Having been friends with the boy for ten years, she had memorized almost everything about him. She knew Garfield as well as she knew herself. His favorite color? Easy: green. Gar liked everything green. He constantly joked about his veganism being attributed to his love of the color, and thus his love of veggies. Birthday? March 17th, at 3:49 P.M. Cue another green joke. Favorite song? Almost by Bowling for Soup.
As soon as they pulled into the driveway, Raven unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped out, her black hair flopping against her neck as he did so. Garfield turned off the engine, but left the key in the ignition, allowing the song to continue to the end. Raven rolled her eyes and walked slowly to the front door, her hands inside her sweatshirt pockets. Garfield's guardians, Steve and Rita, usually left the front door open, knowing full well that their adopted son rarely remembered a house key. Raven opened the door and stepped into a house as familiar as her own.
Immediately facing the entryway was a table for placing items like keys and spare change. On this table were two framed photos, both of which contained Garfield. The first one had been taken when the boy in question was about ten years old. It was a formal portrait; Steve and Rita standing just behind Garfield, shoulders touching. It was a strange photo – anyone who looked at it knew that the child was not born of the parents. Steve looked stern and serious, his piercing blue eyes staring straight into the camera. He was chief of police in Jump City, a job that suited his no-nonsense attitude well. Rita looked formal and as beautiful as ever. She had been an actress before settling down with Steve. Her brown hair fell just below her shoulders, accentuating her olive skin and deep brown eyes. She had been the woman Raven had seen in Dr. Adams' office, holding hands with her adopted child and chiding him for chewing on his hand. In the photo, Garfield stood stiffly in the middle, his unruly blonde hair tamed with a comb and his skinny body adorned with a wrinkled white button-up shirt. The smile on his face was huge, showing all of his teeth, which were caged with braces. At the time the picture was taken, Garfield had informed Raven that the picture had taken two hours to get one that looked good. Gar wasn't a good picture taker.
The second photo was older. This one was taken before his parents died. Exactly six months before, actually. Garfield, about six years old, had both arms around the necks of his parents, who were kneeling on either side of him. Raven loved the photo. They all looked so happy, identical toothy smiles across the board. They looked so normal – almost like a family on a TV show. Garfield's mother had her head leaning against her son's, their blonde hair mingling together. His father looked like an older version of his son, only with a mop of brown hair. Even their eyes were identical – the exact same shade of green. Raven skimmed her fingers over the glass covering the happy family.
"You know, I think you've seen that picture a million times. Why are you always so fascinated by it?" Raven whipped around, feeling as though she had been caught doing something embarrassing. Which was totally ridiculous. Gar stood a few feet from her, leaning his back against the closed door and cocking an eyebrow at her.
Raven turned back to the framed photo. "I think it's beautiful," she murmured. "I've never seen a group share so much love in one snapshot." When she was five, her family had taken a professional photo. It used to hang above her fireplace until her father broke it during one of his fits of rage. It had looked very fake and tense, the three members of the Roth family not touching or smiling.
Gar strode toward her. He picked up the photo and smiled at it. "You know, I always thought this picture was kinda cliché." His thumbs caressed the edges of the frame. "But I guess love always looks that way in hindsight." Raven blinked. Every once in a while, Garfield said something really wise. It usually surprised her. In a good way.
"Wow," she breathed. "That's actually kind of…deep."
Garfield smirked and put the picture down gently. He shook his hair out and sent Raven a bright smile. "Yeah, I'm a pretty great philosopher. Like that one dude. Play-dough!" And just like that, he ruined it.
"It's Plato, Gar," she sighed. He shrugged.
"C'mon, Rae," he laughed. "You know I've never been much of a history guy." It was true. As much as Garfield knew about animals, he couldn't for the life of him understand history. In eighth grade he turned in an essay detailing the reasons for the American Revolution: the British were forcing them to drink tea.
"Or a math guy," she smirked. "Or an English guy." Garfield crossed his arms and pouted his lip. They often exchanged in playful banter like this. Raven would never admit it, but she loved it.
"Well, I can do science pretty dang good!" he exclaimed. Raven rolled her eyes.
"Pretty dang well," she corrected. Gar narrowed his eyes at her, the corner of his lip twitching. She stared him down, a singular eyebrow raised. He broke pretty quickly, throwing his hands up in the air and turning away down the hall. She chuckled and followed him to his room.
Usually, Garfield's bedroom was a disaster. It was so incredibly cluttered that the carpet was practically covered in junk. His clothes were everywhere, and Raven found it impossible to determine what was dirty and what was clean. Gar always waved off her comments, saying he knew, and that was all that mattered. The walls were covered in posters of movies, bands, and national geographic covers. One wall was devoted to pictures, tacked haphazardly across the mint green surface. Photos of his parents, of him as a baby, of his adopted parents, and about a hundred of him and Raven. Up until he was fifteen, Gar had had bunk beds. When they were younger, this had been perfect for sleepovers. Around middle school, this became an awkward affair, so they stuck to phone calls if they wanted to prolong their time together into the night. Now Gar had a queen-sized bed that was never made, heaped with clothes, and generally not a place Raven could see anyone actually sleeping.
But today, when she walked into his room, she thought for a moment that she had accidentally gone through the wrong door. The floor was clear, exposing a lush purple carpet. There were no clothes to be seen, so she assumed they were in the chest of drawers that stood against the wall, practically unused for years. A desk stood against the other wall, housing a closed laptop, a lamp, a stack of comic books, and two picture frames. One of them was a picture of his mother and father, waving to the camera from the back of a dusty truck. The other was of her and Gar. They were about eleven and standing on the beach, Garfield flashing a thumbs up and Raven barely smiling under her huge black sunhat. Raven looked up to find that a bulletin board was tacked in front of the desk. Across the wall were framed photo collages; one devoted entirely to her. She blushed just looking at it. Of, course, they were best friends, so it was to be expected. It wasn't like he felt anything for her.
The bed was in the same place. It wasn't made, but it just looked like someone had slept in it recently. Sitting on top of the covers was an acoustic guitar. She glanced over at her friend. Gar had his hands shoved in his pockets, watching her with some apprehension.
"You like?" he asked. His green eyes darted around the room, focusing on everything but her. "It's sorta the reason I kidnapped you. I cleaned it yesterday! Well, my mom helped me, but I did a good forty five percent of the work!"
Raven smiled. "I'm proud of you, Garfield," she said, allowing a note of affection enter her voice. Normally, she showed as little of her emotions as possible. Her father's abuse had made her scared of anger, and her mother's tears made her afraid of sadness. And being happy…well, she hadn't learned that yet. Since she was knew to this world of emotion, she was afraid that she would accidentally let it all spill out at once in an overwhelming flood. In any case, Garfield balanced her out with his emotions; he always felt them one hundred and ten percent. She glanced over at the instrument laying on his bed, wanting to change her train of thought. "You play guitar?"
"Uh, yeah." He was blushing. Her stomach did a tiny flip at the pink tinge to his cheeks. "It was my dad's. Steve took it out of storage a coupla years ago." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't have the heart to really pick it up until about a month ago." Raven stepped closer to the instrument, running her fingers over the taught steel strings.
"Will you play me something?" she asked. His blush increased and he ran a hand through his wild blonde hair.
"I've never really played for anyone before," he said softly. "But for you, sure." Her heart leaped. He stepped over and sat on the other side of the bed. Raven moved slowly until she sat beside him. Garfield swallowed and picked up the guitar, placing it across his lap. After a breath, he began to strum. Almost immediately, Raven recognized the chords to "You are my Sunshine".
She listened to the music in silence, watching Gar's fingers move deftly over the strings. At one point, she turned her attention to his face. It was scrunched with concentration, his eyes focused on the guitar. His eyebrows, thick and surprisingly dark, were pulled together, a tiny crease forming between them. His mouth was fixed in a firm line. Quite suddenly, Raven felt the need to put her hands on his face, smooth away the creases and the stress. Just the thought made her blush.
He brought the song to an end. Raven felt a tugging in her heart. She wanted him to continue. Garfield breathed out, visibly relaxing. His green eyes met hers, and a tiny smile tugged at his lips. "My mom used to sing that to me," he murmured. "Thought it should be the first thing I learn."
"It's beautiful, Garfield," Raven breathed. His smile widened, and his cheeks flushed.
"Wanna learn how to play it?" he exclaimed suddenly. Raven was taken aback slightly, her violet eyes widening.
"Um, I don't know –"
"Oh, come on, Rae," he pleaded. "You are the only person who's seen me play this, so now you gotta return the favor!"
"I don't know how to play guitar," Raven stated. "I doubt I can even hold it right."
Garfield flapped his hand. "Oh, that's all beside the point." Raven opened her mouth to argue, but Garfield interrupted her. "I'll show you. C'mere." He moved to the center of the bed, legs crossed, and patted his lap.
Raven felt herself turn scarlet. "Garfield, I am not going to sit on your lap."
He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his face. "Oh, come on, Raven. I thought we were beyond personal boundaries!" Raven crossed her arms, thoroughly uncomfortable. Sit on his lap? Be that close to him? Good lord, she wanted to.
"You know very well how I feel about personal sp – AAAAGH!" The last part, a strangled scream, issued from her mouth because Garfield had actually grabbed her waist and pulled her onto his lap. Her struggle lasted about three seconds, with Gar wrapping his arms entirely around her small frame.
"Rae, chill out!" He was laughing. Apparently, he enjoyed her discomfort. "This is the easiest way to teach you, I swear!"
"Really?" she snapped, finally succumbing to his enveloping frame. "Because I doubt this is how it is taught normally."
He snickered. She felt it behind her, a rumble in his chest against her back. His mouth was right next to her ear; she could feel his breath stirring her hair. "I thought we agreed we weren't normal," he murmured. Raven tensed, successfully suppressing the shiver that went through her body at his breath on her neck. He reached out one long arm to grab the guitar, placing it over Raven.
"Okay," he started. His long arms wrapped around her, taking the neck of the guitar with his slim fingers. As he did so, his scruffy jaw rubbed against her shoulder. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she hoped he hadn't heard. "We'll start with the chords." His fingers found certain strings on the neck, holding them down tightly. "Okay, Rave. Put your fingers over mine. I think this might work."
"Might work?" she grumbled. Gar groaned behind her.
"Fine. Let's try this." He took his fingers off of the strings and grabbed her hand. He placed her fingers in the position his fingers had been in. "Press down really hard." Raven winced as the steel strings dug into her fingers. He gently put his hand over hers. With the other, he started to strum.
"I think remembering the chords is the hardest part," he murmured. His lips were right next to her ear, brushing it as he spoke. Raven's brain was practically mush. There was no way she was going to remember this.
They spent the next ten minutes learning the opening chords to "You are my Sunshine". Raven eventually got used to Garfield's nearness, and had settled comfortably against him. He had a lot of body heat – she felt like she was wrapped in a blanket.
Eventually, they gave up attempting to doubly play the guitar – Raven complained that her fingers were hurting. The instrument was placed aside. At first, Raven attempted to escape Garfield's clutches, but he was adamant at not letting her go.
"Gar," she growled. He had tightened his arms around her stomach and pushed his forehead between her shoulder blades. "What exactly are you trying to accomplish?"
"Noooo idea," he chuckled. Very suddenly, he rolled onto his back, taking Raven with him. She let out a cry of protest, but her arms were pinned firmly to her sides.
"Garfield!" she yelled. "Is this necessary?"
"You never let me hug you!" he explained. "I'm making up for lost time!" She groaned audibly. Raven had never really been a hugger. It just felt like too much contact for too much time. Whenever she hugged someone, it was a treat.
"There is a reason I am not always letting you hug me, Garfield," she growled. He rolled them both onto the side, and Raven was very much aware that, technically, he was spooning her. Her stomach fluttered.
"And that is?" His breath ruffled her hair. It tickled her neck.
"I don't like human contact." Except yours.
"Don't you like me?"
"Of course I like you." A little too much.
"Then you should hug me more often."
"Gar, your logic is flawed." I love your flaws.
"You know you love me, Rae." He was smiling against her hair, she could feel it. Closing her eyes, she let out a slow breath.
"Totally." Garfield laughed softly, happy he had won the argument. She'd tell him someday. How incredibly true that statement was. But not today, and not tomorrow. Hell, maybe not even for ten years.
But one day, Raven would let Garfield know that she had fallen in love with a fellow Freak. One with blonde hair and green eyes and a stupid sense of humor. And maybe everything would be okay.