Sponge: Enjoy this week's chapter! Warnings: some heavy Fraphne kissing and some Shelma angst. Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Scooby Doo characters. They belong to Warner Brothers, Cartoon Network, and Hanna Barbera.

Chapter 11: I Wasn't the One

As Fred, Daphne, and Scooby leisurely drove back to the beach house, the piercing siren of an ambulance behind them startled Fred so badly he nearly jumped out of his skin from surprise.

"Wasn't expecting that," he murmured, changing lanes to let the ambulance pass. It wailed by and turned into the parking lot of a restaurant.

"Hey," said Daphne, frowning. "Isn't that the place where Shaggy was going tonight?"

Fear twisted Scooby's stomach. Daphne was right – they were passing by The Bloody Stake, where Shaggy and Mai Le were meant to be having dinner this evening. "Rhat if something rappened to Raggy?" he whimpered.

Fred and Daphne shared a look, then Fred turned off the road into the parking lot as well.

They parked the car and hustled to the entrance of the restaurant, where a small crowd had gathered as paramedics wheeled out a gurney. Daphne was relieved to see that the person on the gurney was not dead – in fact, she was full of life, screaming uncontrollably and clearly trying to reach towards her face, though her hands were strapped down. Daphne's breath caught as she saw the girl's face. It was covered in deep gashes, as though she had scratched herself over and over with her fingernails. There was a huge boil that had clearly popped recently, blood and pus trickling from it.

Fred's stomach turned at the sight. But Scooby gasped with recognition.

"Ruh-roh," he gulped. "It's Rai Le."

Fred and Daphne gaped at him, then glanced back at the young woman on the gurney as the paramedics loaded it into the ambulance. It had been hard to tell through the carnage, but Scooby was right – it was Mai Le.

Which meant Shaggy was probably nearby.

Daphne frantically looked around the crowd, trying to figure out where he was. She finally noticed him standing near the front door, white as a sheet. She pointed him out to Scooby, who raced for him and brought him back to the others.

"Like what are you guys doing here?" he asked.

"We saw the ambulance pull off the road and followed it when we realized where it was going," Fred explained. "Shaggy, what happened? Is Mai Le okay?"

Shaggy let out a long, slow breath. "Like I don't know," he replied. "She had this…pimple. Like a huge, red spot. She was messing with it, and then she went to the bathroom…and like, I guess it…popped.".

Daphne shuddered. She'd popped her fair share of pimples in her day, but Mai Le's methods seemed extreme to her. "Was that what those scratches on her face were from?" she asked. "From trying to pop the pimple?"

Shaggy looked at her blankly for a moment, then shook his head. "No, no, like that was from when she was trying to get the spiders off her."

"Wait," Fred said, holding up a hand. "Spiders? What are you talking about?"

Shaggy looked at him uneasily. "Like they were inside the spot, man," he explained, his voice very thin. "The zit popped and spiders came out."

"Rhat?!" Scooby yelped. That had to be the most disgusting thing he'd ever heard.

"Like yeah," Shaggy breathed. "It was so gross. She was like, clawing at her face trying to get them out but they just kept coming."

"Okay, stop," Daphne begged. She could think of few things more horrifying than spiders exploding out of a face pimple.

"That's not the worst part," Shaggy went on, lowering his voice. "Apparently, this was in the book. Like, the Book of the Dead."

The others gaped at him. "How do you know that?" asked Fred.

"Velma called me," Shaggy explained. Then his face blanched. "Oh my God. Like I totally forgot about Velma." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed.

"Shaggy, are you okay?!" Velma's voice was overwrought with anxiety, and Shaggy was surprised to find himself somewhat comforted by that. The idea that she still cared about him enough to worry.

"Like I'm fine," he assured her.

"What about Mai Le?" she asked, sounding slightly calmer but still frazzled.

Shaggy glanced at the others. "Like I don't know," he replied. "Listen, Scoob, Daph, and Fred are here too. They saw the ambulance pull up to the restaurant so they followed it. We're on our way back now."

"Ambulance?" The apprehension had returned to Velma's voice.

Shaggy sighed. "Like I'll explain everything when we get back."

x.X.x

The adults were still getting dinner ready in the kitchen when Fred, Daphne, Scooby, and Shaggy arrived back at the beach house. Velma was waiting for them at the front of the hall and mouthed my room before slinking into it. The group politely dodged the adults' greetings as they went after her. Scooby made eye contact with Nova, who followed them down the hall where Velma closed the door behind them all. She looked unequivocally relieved that Shaggy was unhurt, but immediately asked him to rehash what had happened at the restaurant.

He explained again how Mai Le had been touching her acne all evening, how she'd gone into the restroom, and how she'd returned with a face full of spiders. Nova looked aghast at the description, but Velma just looked grim.

"The story in the book didn't describe the aftermath," she explained, handing the leather bound tome over to the others. That had been part of the reason she'd been so worried. "It ends when the spiders pour out of the red spot."

"When did you discover the story?" asked Nova. Shaggy, Daphne, and Fred were sitting on the bed, the book open between them as they read it together. Scooby paced fretfully.

"Just before I called Shaggy," Velma replied. "I'd had the book on me all evening, but I put it down to take a shower. I was there for no more than half an hour, and when I came back, the new story had been written in the book."

Nova looked uneasy. "I was in the kitchen with Brad, Judy, Ricky, and Cassidy the whole time," she said. "None of us left the room, and we could see both the front and back doors from where we were. No one came in."

Velma gestured to her window. "I wonder if someone snuck in," she said. "It's the only logical explanation."

"Ror it's the ritch's rhost," Scooby spoke up.

"It's not a ghost," Velma said. "And it's not a witch. But I should text Ben. Let him know about this latest development."

Shaggy scowled and looked down, picking at a loose thread on the comforter.

"How'd it go at Rung's?" Velma asked Daphne and Fred. "Did he give you any new information?"

"Not exactly," Fred replied. "He did confirm that the Crystal Cove PD is into something shady, but he either didn't know or wouldn't say what it was. He also implicated the mayor as the one pulling the strings."

Velma frowned. "Do you think that's true?" she mused. "Should we be looking at the mayor instead?"

"I wouldn't write Rung off as innocent just yet," Daphne spoke up. "I know he's bad news, and he could still be hiding something." She'd been turning this hunch over in her mind ever since they'd left the Ladderton mansion. But before she explained her hunch, she'd need to tell the gang everything. In a low voice, she reiterated her conversation with Brenda from that morning, including her confession about being roofied by Rung the previous summer.

By the time she'd finished, everyone was gaping at her. "Jinkies, Daph…" Velma murmured.

"I know," Daphne sighed. "It's awful."

"How many people know?" asked Nova. "About what happened to Brenda last summer?"

Daphne shrugged. "I'm not sure. Brenda mentioned being rescued by her boyfriend, Dylan, before anything too horrible happened, so he knows. But he may not be the only one. What if Ethan and Gary found out somehow and threatened to tell the police?"

"But if the cops are dirty, they wouldn't necessarily be any help," Velma pointed out. "Especially if they're working for the Laddertons."

"I know," Daphne sighed again. "I'm still trying to work that part out."

Velma frowned thoughtfully. "It's supposed to rain tomorrow," she said. "Maybe we can go to the library that Ben told us about. If the Laddertons have been fixtures of the town for as long as Rung claims, I bet we'll be able to find some more information on the family and their history in the genealogy section. We might learn something that will tell us more about their alleged dealings with the police."

"That's a good idea," Daphne agreed. "We can look up the mayor too. Rung might have just said that she was into something shady with the cops in order to throw us off the trail, but we might as well cover all our bases."

"Okay but like," Shaggy protested. "What does any of this have to do with that?" He pointed at the Book of the Dead, which was still clutched in Fred's hands. "Ethan, Gary, and Mai Le all appeared in stories that were written in the book. Now all three of them are missing or hurt. Am I like, crazy for thinking that there's a connection?"

"Rof course rot," Scooby assured him.

Velma took the book from Fred and held it thoughtfully. "I wonder if whoever is writing the stories is trying to help us somehow," she mused. "Like they're trying to lead us in the right direction or something."

"Kids!" called Judy's voice from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready, if you'd like to join us!"

The gang all looked at each other.

"Like I guess we might as well," Shaggy said, rising from the bed. "I didn't actually get to eat."

"I can't believe you still want to eat after all that," Daphne remarked.

Shaggy grinned. "Like there's not much that'll put me off food."

He and Scooby were the first to leave the room, with Nova and Velma following close behind. But Fred caught Daphne's hand and kept her in the room for a moment.

"What's up?" she asked. "You okay?" It occurred to her that he hadn't said much these last few minutes.

"Are you okay?" he asked her seriously. His blue eyes shone with concern.

Daphne's mouth quirked up into a confused grin. "Yes…?" she replied, her voice lilting up in a question.

Fred sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Why didn't you tell me about Rung this morning?" he asked. "After your conversation with Brenda?"

"Oh, Freddie," Daphne sighed, sitting back down on Velma's bed. Fred followed her. "Honestly, I got so caught up with the scarecrow that it slipped my mind. And then I just forgot about it until later. I wasn't intentionally keeping it from you."

"I know," Fred assured her. "But…I mean, he was buzzing around you all last night. What if he'd…" He trailed off, unable to even complete the sentence.

"He didn't," Daphne said firmly. "Brenda told me he drugged her drink last summer, but I kept my beer on me all night. He wouldn't have had a chance to do anything to it." She gave him a small smile. "I can take care of myself, Freddie."

He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her. "I just can't stand the idea of you in trouble," he whispered into her hair.

Daphne hugged him back and buried her head in his broad chest. "You've got to let go of this image you have of me from high school," she teased him gently. "I told you last summer, I'm not Danger Prone Daphne anymore."

"I just want to keep you safe," Fred whispered, his voice soft. His lips were by her ear now, and a warm ripple of pleasure caused Daphne to shiver blissfully in his arms.

They were kissing in moments, Fred clutching fistfuls of Daphne's thick orange hair as he laid her down gently on the bed. The skirt of her sundress slid down her thighs and she sighed contentedly as Fred's large hand caressed the smooth skin of her legs. She moved her hands along his shoulders to his arms, reveling in the feel of the firm muscles of his biceps as they kissed hungrily.

Approaching footsteps stopped them in their tracks and they looked up just in time to see Velma stop in the doorway. A kaleidoscope of emotions crossed her face – confusion, amusement, and then something that looked like…jealousy? Or maybe wistfulness?

But it was gone in a flash, replaced by wry derision. "Really guys?" she laughed. "On my bed? With the door wide open?"

Properly abashed, Fred and Daphne sat up. "Sorry Velm," they apologized. This was not the first time they'd been caught in a compromising position by one of their friends, but the last time it had happened was back when they were still in high school. They liked to think they were in better control of their hormones now.

Velma rolled her eyes good naturedly. "It's fine. But if you don't come to dinner soon, Brad and Judy are going to send out search and rescue dogs."

Fred and Daphne chuckled and followed her out. As they all took seats around the table, Velma's eyes darted briefly to Shaggy, and her expression shifted back to one of forlorn nostalgia.

Daphne clocked it, and understood with sudden clarity the melancholy look she'd seen on her friend's face.

x.X.x

Later that night, Velma dreamed about the pale lady again.

In the dream, she found herself in a long ornate hallway once more. But instead of a door at the end, there stood the pale lady. The woman slowly walked toward Velma on unsteady feet, her beady eyes blinking ominously. Velma had turned to run, only to find the pale lady suddenly at the other end of the hall. She kept up her slow forward march.

Fear grasped Velma as she searched desperately for a way out, but in every direction she turned, the pale lady was there, steadily moving toward her – and getting closer every time Velma tried to escape.

With furious urgency, Velma made one final, frantic attempt at an outbreak, twisting away – only to find the pale lady's face right in front of hers.

That was when she'd awoken with a shriek.

Gasping for breath, she fumbled for her glasses on her night table, but was unable to locate them. Instead she floundered for the switch on the small lamp beside her bed, flicking it on and casting the room in blurry light.

She couldn't see a thing. Every hazy shape, every bleary shadow seemed to arrange itself into the form of the pale lady. She continued to grasp around her nightstand for her spectacles, but she couldn't feel them anywhere. Panic shot through her. Where had they gone?

The sound of her bedroom door flying open behind her wrenched another gasp from her throat.

"Whoa!" said a very familiar voice from the doorway. "Like it's okay. It's just me."

Shaggy.

Her shoulders sagged with relief. "Oh," she panted, trying to disentangle herself from her blankets.

"Are you okay?" Shaggy's voice was closer now. His lanky shape moved further into the room.

Velma swallowed, trying to catch her breath. "Uh…yeah," she murmured. The dream was still in the forefront of her mind, but Shaggy's presence was helping to calm her down.

Unbidden, a memory of their time as secret high school sweethearts entered her mind – the nights after solving particularly terrifying mysteries when Shaggy had awoken from a nightmare and called her on the phone in the middle of the night. The way they would commiserate, wishing they could be together in person so she could comfort him.

She could see the irony of their current circumstances. They were together physically, but broken up. And it was Velma who needed comforting, not Shaggy.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to steady her voice. "I can't find my glasses. Would you mind grabbing my extra pair from my suitcase? They should be in a case in the front pocket." She pointed into the corner, where her duffel bag sat in a heap.

A few moments later, Shaggy was at her bedside, holding out the spare glasses. She took them gratefully and put them on, becoming aware of several things at once:

First, her regular glasses were not on the nightstand. They must have fallen somewhere, perhaps under the bed.

Second, according to the dim glow of the digital clock on the dresser, it was almost two in the morning.

Third, Shaggy was not wearing a shirt. His tattoos stood out in stark contrast against his pale skin.

Velma flushed, all thoughts of her nightmare immediately flying out of her head as she forced herself to glance away from him. He hadn't been wearing a shirt at the beach this afternoon either, and she'd been just as flustered then, but it was different to have him shirtless in her bedroom late at night. Her gaze landed on the Book of the Dead, which was where she'd left it on her night table. Determined for an excuse not to look at Shaggy, she flipped it open. Nothing new had been added to it since The Red Spot, but she looked anyway.

Shaggy hesitated a moment before speaking. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly.

Velma nodded, still not looking at him. "Yep. Totally fine."

But Shaggy went on. "I heard you through the wall, Velm," he told her. "Like…you were screaming."

It had woken him up, the sounds of short, gasping breaths that permeated the wall they shared before the final shriek that had jolted him upright. The dogs had somehow stayed asleep, but Shaggy had immediately raced out of his room and next door. Normally the sounds of terror were enough for him to flee in the other direction. But he could count on one hand the number of times he'd heard Velma scream like that, and if she was in some kind of danger…

He hadn't even taken the time to throw on a t-shirt. A decision he was now somewhat regretting. He was very, very aware of how close they were sitting to each other on the bed, of the fact that he only wore low-slung sweatpants, and of the fact that Velma was wearing a knee-length orange nightshirt, her bare legs only partly covered by the tangle of blankets.

She looked up at him and he felt his face color. Worried about doing something embarrassing if he stayed in the room, he abruptly stood up. "Like you want a midnight snack?"

Velma blinked at him, perplexed. "What?"

"A midnight snack," he repeated. "That always helps me feel better."

Velma allowed herself a small smile. "Why does that not surprise me?"

Shaggy chuckled. "What can I say? Food's my answer to everything."

Together, they crept down the hall to the kitchen, where they quietly got out bowls and spoons. Velma flicked on the dim light over the sink while Shaggy rummaged around in the fridge for the half gallon of milk and selected a box of cereal from the pantry. He passed it to her as they sat at the table together, and she smiled gratefully.

"I figured a midnight snack from you would be a little more culinary," she admitted, pouring cereal into her bowl. She kept her voice low, so as to not disturb their sleeping friends down the hall.

Shaggy grinned at her wryly. "I like to keep it simple," he told her, his voice just as quiet. He took the box of cereal from her. "Normally I'll make this pasta thing. Orzo and chicken stock and parmesan cheese. Super easy and delicious. But we don't have those here so like, we'll make do." He gestured to their bowls of cereal.

Velma smiled and looked down. "That orzo thing sounds good," she said.

Shaggy almost offered to make it for her sometime, but caught himself.

They ate in silence for a while until Shaggy cleared his throat.

"Like you wanna tell me what's going on?"

Velma sighed, pushing cereal around her bowl with her spoon. "I've just been having these weird dreams," she said at last. "The past two nights."

"Like what kind of dreams?"

Velma shook her head. "They're hard to explain," she replied. But she tried. Haltingly she described the nightmares she'd had the past two nights, finishing somewhat lamely with, "I don't know. It was scarier in the dream."

Truthfully, she still felt a little unsettled, and after hearing her descriptions, so did Shaggy. He'd finished his cereal by now and stood up to bring his bowl and spoon to the sink. "Well," he said. "Like it sounds plenty scary to me."

Velma watched him at the sink and her heart twisted. She felt bad for what had happened to Mai Le earlier, of course, but she also couldn't help feeling a little relieved that the date had ended in such a disaster. In the dim glow of the light over the sink, Velma watched the lean muscles of Shaggy's bare shoulder blades moving as he washed his spoon.

"When did you start sleeping shirtless?" she asked before she could stop herself. She didn't want to think about her dream anymore, and was desperately looking for a distraction. Admittedly, she could have chosen something less suggestive to say, but it was two in the morning and her brain wasn't working at its normal capacity, so she'd just said the first thing that had come into her head.

Shaggy was still facing the sink, away from her, and thanked his lucky stars that she couldn't see him blush. "Like how do you know I haven't always slept shirtless?" he asked her.

Velma felt her face heat up. "We've…slept in the same bed before," she reminded him, her voice soft.

Shaggy nodded, reaching for a dish towel to dry his spoon. Velma was right – while the two of them had never consummated their relationship while they'd been together, they had shared a bed a few times. "Just like, when it's hot out," he replied, putting his clean spoon on the drying rack before reaching for his cereal bowl.

As he turned, Velma again caught sight of the music tattoo on his ribs, the one she'd seen on the beach that morning.

"Will you tell me about that tattoo?" she asked, jerking her chin toward it.

He went rigid at the sink, freezing with his bowl in one hand and the dish towel in the other. He knew there was another reason he should have thrown on a shirt.

Velma watched him, puzzled. "Shaggy..?"

He put the bowl on the drying rack next to the sink and sighed, but didn't move.

Velma swiftly rose from the table to stand beside him. She could read music. She'd figure out this mystery, at least.

It was four sixteenth notes, beamed together, with a dotted quarter note joined on at the end. F sharp, E, A, A, going down the scale.

She hummed the phrase – and froze.

She recognized the song.

When the gang had been in eleventh grade, Daphne had convinced them all to try out for the school musical, Next to Normal, together. They'd all been cast, including Shaggy and Velma, who had ended up playing love interests. That musical was the reason they'd gotten together in the first place. What had started as a casual showmance had become a full-blown relationship, though of course for the first year or so they had kept it a secret from their other friends. But they had the musical to thank for their romantic relationship.

This tattoo was music from the show. Specifically, a love song that their characters had sung.

"Perfect For You…" She softly murmured the title of the song and a flood of memories came rushing back to her.

He had turned to face her now, his expression plaintive. Sad.

Confusion and longing ripped through Velma like a storm. "Why?" She couldn't help asking. They had been broken up for almost a year. What would have possessed Shaggy to get a tattoo of the song that had made them fully realize their feelings for each other?

He gave a humorless chuckle and looked away. "I like, got it before we broke up."

This just further perplexed her. He hadn't had any tattoos when they'd been in Coolsville last summer before they'd gone back to school. And they'd only been back at school for about a month before they had ended their relationship.

"How long before we broke up?" she asked.

Shaggy shrugged, still not meeting her gaze. "I don't know. Like a week? Maybe two?"

Velma's eyes widened, utterly bewildered. "If you were going to break up with me two weeks later, then why did you get that tattoo in the first place?"

Shaggy looked back at her, anger sparking in his eyes now. "Really? Like we're going to do this again?"

Velma splayed out her arms. Here we go, she thought. Out loud, she said, "Are you seriously still trying to shift the blame on me? We've had this argument dozens of times, Shaggy. When are you going to give it up?"

"Because you're wrong!" Shaggy exclaimed. He caught his volume and paused, waiting to see if anyone in the house would wake up. When no one came out, he continued in a furious whisper. "You keep saying that it's my fault things ended between us, but that's not true. I wasn't the one who ended things, Velma. That was you."

"Only because I knew you were going to!" Velma replied angrily. "You were so clearly trying to dump me, you just didn't have the balls to actually come out and say the words, so you kept complaining until I did it for you."

"No I didn't!" Shaggy argued.

"Yes you did!" Velma insisted. "Every day you griped about the distance and how difficult it was to keep up the relationship."

"Yeah, because it was hard, Velma, not because I wanted to break up!" Shaggy hissed, exasperated. "I was willing to put in the work. You were the one who like, gave up on us."

"Do not try to gaslight me right now," Velma seethed. "You called me that day and said 'we need to talk.' How does that not translate to breaking up?"

"You jumped to conclusions!'" Shaggy jabbed an accusing finger at her. "I wanted to talk about our relationship, things we could do to keep it going despite the distance, like we'd talked about last summer! But you immediately were just like, 'Yeah I've been thinking that we should stop seeing each other.'"

He remembered that moment clearly, the gut punch of shock that had resonated through him as she'd said the words. It had come completely out of left field.

What he didn't know was that she had given a lot of thought to what she would have wanted Shaggy to say if he was going to end the relationship. So when he'd said, "We need to talk" that day, she'd ripped off the bandage.

"Yeah," she'd said softly, the way she would have wanted him to. "I've been thinking that we should stop seeing each other."

There had been a long pause from Shaggy's side of the phone before he'd responded. "Like you have?" he'd said at last.

And Velma had gone into a speech that she hadn't so much rehearsed as she had replayed in her brain several times. About how Shaggy was right, and the distance was getting to be too much. How they couldn't be the kinds of partners the other needed while they were so far apart.

To her credit, she hadn't been cruel. But she'd said it all so eloquently that Shaggy hadn't even thought to argue.

Now in the dimly lit beach house kitchen, he looked at her mournfully. "I never actually said the words 'I want to break up,'" Shaggy told her. "Because I didn't want to."

Velma crossed her arms. "So then why did you just roll over and say, 'Okay, let's break up?' If that wasn't what you wanted?"

Shaggy scoffed. "Because when one person in a relationship wants to break up, like, that's what you do."

Velma stared back at him, feeling utterly disoriented. "You should have told me," she murmured. "Why didn't you say something?"

Shaggy shook his head. "Your mind seemed to be made up," he replied. "Why try to change it?"

Velma narrowed her eyes, guilt and shame and righteous anger shooting through her. "And you don't call that 'giving up on us?'" she asked.

"I thought you'd already given up!" he shot back. "I wasn't about to fight a losing battle. Like what would have been the point? Would it have done any good? Would you have believed anything I said at that point?"

Velma opened her mouth to argue, but hesitated. Shaggy was right. She was so convinced that their relationship was doomed that she wouldn't have listened to reason if he'd tried to sway her otherwise that day.

It had taken several months for them to admit their feelings for each other, and then another whole year after that to tell anyone else that they were even together. But it had taken less than a day for the rocky foundation of their relationship to crumble.

They had always been bad communicators, the two of them. And now they were reaping what they'd sowed.

"No," she admitted. "It wouldn't have done any good."

Shaggy nodded curtly but said nothing.

They stood there in the dark kitchen, hurting and confused. Velma had thought they could go back to just being friends. She hadn't expected the summer to throw all these curveballs at them. She hadn't thought her feelings for him would come back in such a major way.

"I miss you."

She hadn't realized she'd said it out loud. Her voice was barely a whisper, but Shaggy had heard. He looked at her, stricken. Then he let out a breath and turned away.

"I miss you too," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But like, what do you expect us to do about it? I don't want to just be like…a relationship of convenience, you know? Breaking up and getting back together every time we're in town. And like, if the distance is a problem for you –"

Velma exhaled sharply. "Don't pretend like it wasn't a problem for you, too."

"Okay fine," Shaggy replied, holding up his hands in surrender. "Yes, the distance was a problem for me too. So I'm fine with going back to just being friends." Or at least, he could try to be.

Velma stared at him, a little taken aback. "So you do want to break up?"

"We are already broken up!" Shaggy exclaimed. Again, he paused in the immediate aftermath of his outburst to see if he'd woken anyone. After a brief silence, he glared at her heatedly. "You have to choose one or the other, Velma. If you want to get back together, great. If you just want to be friends, fine. But like, you can't have it both ways. You say you miss me. And…I miss you too. I do. But do you miss me, or do you just miss being in a relationship?"

Velma blinked, disoriented by his question. She paused for a long time before finally replying quietly, "I…I'm not sure."

Shaggy's face hardened. "Well like, let me know when you figure it out," he muttered.

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen.

Velma stood there, staring after him. Why did I say that? she thought to herself. Of course she missed Shaggy. She'd tried dating other people and hadn't felt anything close to what she'd felt for him. Why hadn't she told him that? Pride? Fear?

Whatever the reason, she'd clearly made things with Shaggy much worse.

Exhausted and sad and unable to put on a brave face any longer, she sat down at the kitchen table, removed her glasses, put her head in her hands, and wept.

Sponge: Reviews make me happy! Till next week!