Disclaimer: Characters and events in this fic are copyright of me. Please respect an author's creativity.

A/N: First in a series of vignettes featuring Pete and Manda, written for formerlydf (on LJ). Yeah. I realized I'd been neglecting them in favour of my CGC, and really, they deserve as much screentime - er, prosetime? - as anyone.

So yeah. Random conversation, little coherence -- but that's how these two interact much of the time. Things come up out of nowhere.

Even Now

“Why did you hang around with her for so long anyway?”

“Who, Sarah?” Amanda lowers her book and arches an eyebrow. She’s probably wondering where on Earth that came from, seeing as neither of us was discussing Sarah Parker, or even high school, at that point in time.

“Mm,” I say, rolling over onto my side and propping my chin on my hand. I can’t stay like that for long because my elbow’s digging into her thigh, but it’s always weird to look at Manda upside-down. Probably because Michael and I used to play chin-people when we were little (or, okay, seventeen, shut up) and I can’t stop seeing them. “Sorry, non sequitur, I know.”

She laughs. “Kind of,” she runs her fingers through my hair, and I put my head back down on her lap. Manda likes to call me a kitten sometimes, but only when she’s in the mood to play-wrestle. Just ‘cause I’m not exactly Mr. Man doesn’t mean I’m a fluffy baby animal. “Any particular reason why this came up?”

I shrug, take both our books, and lay them carefully on the floor beside the bed. I don’t toss books; that’s just ten million kinds of wrong. “I was just thinking about how weird it is that I used to be so obsessed with her. I mean . . . there wasn’t any personality to it. She was just gorgeous.”

Now, this is where most other girlfriends would pout or smack me or something for referring to any other woman as good looking. Manda just nods. “She was at that,” she leans back against the wall and her eyes narrow, staring out at some spot near the ceiling. “I really don’t know why I was friends with her. You, I can understand – she was sexy and you were a lovestruck little straight boy,” – wink – “But I wasn’t attracted to her, so . . .”

“I don’t even remember when it started,” I let one of my arms flop to the side, trailing it down Manda’s leg and letting my fingers play just below her knee. She’s surprisingly not ticklish there. “You two were always together, even in grade school. It was like . . . every boy on the playground wanted both of you and neither of you wanted any of us.”

She grins. “Well, when you have your pick of the class you can afford to be choosy,” another laugh, and Amanda ruffles my hair this time. “I’m kidding. But I guess that’s what it was. Back when we were little, Sarah didn’t WANT all the boys. They annoyed her. She probably started hanging out with me because I could beat them up.”

“Incidentally, that’s why I stayed away from you,” I poke her side. “I was terrified.”

“Are you saying I was scarier when I was eight than I am now?” her eyes sparkle, and I could play banter forever, I really could. But we were discussing something before, I swear . . .

“You know what I mean. But I remember around grade eight or so, Sarah started getting silly,” I think back, recalling the day when the girl I’d had a crush on for four years suddenly walked into class wearing makeup and a skirt that got her sent home to change. I hadn’t been sure what to think. I still don’t know why I didn’t switch to Manda then, but she’s right – I was a lovesick little straight boy.

Still am, if you want to be technical, but I’d like to think I have better taste now.

“Sarah definitely blossomed sooner,” Manda makes air quotes with her fingers around ‘blossomed’; she often remarks how much she hates the word. “But we were friends, you know, and it didn’t make sense to break things off just because she got interested in boys and things first.”

“My God, I was hung up on her,” I snort suddenly, covering my face with my hands. Manda pries them away and laces her fingers with mine, lips pursed from trying not to laugh. “And it was so stupid! She never even looked at me until the whole . . . Michael fiasco, and then she just kept calling me ‘fag’.”

Manda’s face tightens at that. “Hmm,” I can see her jawbone moving beneath the skin, and if I closed my eyes I could probably hear her teeth grinding. “I knew she was nasty before that and I always chewed her out for it, but I never knew how much –“

I kiss her knuckles, hoping to calm her down. She gets so upset over things like this. “It’s all right. And really, the whole school knew. Even I knew, even when I liked her.”

“Didn’t stop you, though,” Manda winks at me.

“I’m a guy, Man’; no one expects me to be rational,” I shake my head a little. “No, it’s true. You two . . . you were the girl every guy wanted to be friends with because you were so nice. And Sarah, she was the one everyone wanted to date because . . .”

“Ooh, wait, sensei, I know this one,” Manda raises her arm and waves it like a kid in the front row in primary school. “I was nice, but boring. And creepy Christian besides. Sarah was sexy and rude and that gave her an edge. Am I right?” I give her a thumb’s up. “Though I suppose naïve little boys like you entertained fantasies of taming her.”

“Not taming,” I say, affronted, “I wouldn’t ever want to ‘tame’ anyone. That’s insulting. But she definitely wasn’t quite so . . . mean . . . in my fantasies.”

Manda tugs at my ear with her free hand and makes a face. “Note to boyfriend: I don’t want to hear about your Sarah-fantasies.”

“Well, shoot. There goes tonight’s itinerary,” she sticks out her tongue at me and I just smile.

“I know what you mean, though,” Manda says, and her tone is suddenly far away somewhere. “I did it too,” I quirk my eyebrows; she rolls her eyes and ignores my junior-high insinuation. “I always imagined that if I just lived by example well enough, she would come to realize that she didn’t have to come down on people like that all the time. But it never worked.”

Her mouth droops, and I sit up, shifting so I’m curled up beside her, one arm around her waist. “Don’t worry about it,” I play with her hair, pushing it away from her face and behind her ear. “Some people just . . . yeah. She struck me as a bit obtuse.”

Amanda nods and leans her head against my shoulder. “Very. You know, even before I met you, I felt sorry for you.”

“Was I really that pitiful?”

“Pathetic,” she says, without missing a beat, “I don’t think there was anyone at school who didn’t know you were Freud over heels for her.”

“Ha, ha.”

“She didn’t know what to make of you,” Manda’s arms both wrap around me, and I wonder if she’s feeling a little possessive. Maybe I should cut the ex-interest talk soon. “She thought you were a geek in public school, and then we hit ninth grade and all of sudden you were kicking everyone’s butts at sports. She thought you’d done it to impress her.”

I frown. “I didn’t. I did it for Michael.”

Her grip relaxes, just slightly. “Hmm. I told her not to be so egotistical, but you know Sarah. And if you had done it to get her attention, it worked,” I can only blink at her; Manda cocks her head. “It’s true. She thought you were hot, and the sports-thing helped.”

She pulls away so she can face me, and her eyes are snapping. Uh-oh – clearly there’s something I’m missing here. “Sarah was actually interested in you. Do you know the only reason she wouldn’t go out with you?”

I shake my head. I want to tell her that I don’t really care, because, honestly, I don’t. What does it matter, now that I have her? But she’s angry about something now, and it’s best to let her finish.

“Because you were best friends with The Fag,” Manda’s mouth twists on the last word. “I’m serious. I was so angry . . . I tried telling her that she didn’t know Michael was gay. I tried telling her that even if he was, it wasn’t any of her business, and if she liked you then it was even LESS important.”

I probably should be angry, but by now I’m so saturated with stupid people and ignorance that I just feel sort of tired. And stupid, really, that I had been so hopelessly hung up over someone that shallow, but there isn’t anything can be done about it now. I don’t say anything.

“You know, and this is totally stupid to be telling you this, but,” ah, right on cue, two fingers tuck her hair behind her ear in a smooth sweep. Saw that coming. “I went out with Michael at first because I thought it might fix things. You know; if I went out with Michael then maybe she wouldn’t mind him so much and people wouldn’t pick on him. And maybe she wouldn’t mind you and the two of you could get together.”

That one surprises me. “Eh?”

“I know. I thought you’d be good for her,” Manda shrugs, burying her face in my shoulder. “I didn’t know you, but I knew Michael from a few of my classes and if he liked you, I figured you must be okay. Isn’t it silly?” she laughs, her breath puffing against my arm. “What did I think I was doing? Trying to fix everything? Sarah didn’t change and I fell for Michael and he was gay and it was all insane.”

I pull her hair gently, just enough to get her to look at me. “Hey, hey,” my eyebrows furrow. “You did fix everything. We’re all where we’re supposed to be now.”

Manda’s face is red and her fingers twitch like she wants to play with her hair again but knows I’ll recognize the gesture. “Still. It’s dumb.”

With her in this mood, there’s nothing left for me to do; I pounce and tackle her to the bed. After a few minutes of tussling, I pin her, straddling her hips and holding her wrists to the mattress. Manda smirks at me, an expression that suggests she let me win, but I’m not so sure. Yeah, she’s got her martial arts and whatnot, but I didn’t do three years of rugby for nothing.

“Are you done being all silly now?” I challenge, tilting my head.

“If I say no do we get to do that again?” she counters, and hah, success! She’s grinning.

“Maybe,” I say, and bend down to kiss her.

It doesn’t take long before I’m on my back, but that’s okay. She’s here, and no one will laugh if I prefer it that way. Even if someone does, I really don’t care.