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We do almost everything that lovers do
And that’s why it’s hard
Just to be friends with you
Every time your heart is broken by the fool
I want you to know
That it hurts me too
“I don’t wanna go into the Haunted House, Dylan!” Kirsten shrieked, giggling. “It’s scary!”
Dylan grinned down at her, gazing into her forest green eyes. Mmmm. They were at the annual Fairleigh Carnival together. Usually, Dylan hated carnivals, with their gaudy colours, fat-laden food and those god-awful clowns that bounced up to you with noses even Rudolph would be envious of (except they didn’t glow) and shoved balloon animals in your face. Dylan didn’t even like balloons. They popped. He shuddered. Still, Kirsten had wanted to come, and no man alive could say no to her when she was looking at you with those saucer-like eyes like the Puss in Boots from Shrek 2…
They had spent almost the whole day together, laughing and giggling and waiting in long, snaking lines just to go on stupid rides like the Ferris wheel and teacups that went round and round and round until you puked. Dylan had used almost the whole bottle of mouthwash that he always carried around just to get the taste of bile out of his mouth. But Kirsten had loved it, dragging him around the whole park and posing enthusiastically for photographs. The girl never got tired. It was nice to have her to himself again, though…ever since Randall came…There was something Dylan didn’t like about Randall.
Or maybe it was the same something he didn’t like in all Kirsten’s boyfriends.
“Hello? Earth to Dylan?” A hand came waving in front of his face, startling Dylan from his wayward thoughts.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. The Haunted House.” Regaining his composure, Dylan hitched his best evil smile onto his face. “Too bad, Kirsten. You chose the last ride, so I get to choose the next one,” said Dylan, chuckling evilly. “And I choose the Haunted House.”
She had run out of options. Still, nobody could force Kirsten to do something she didn’t want to. Thus, she unleashed her ultimate weapon: the Puppy Dog Pout. Lowering her eyes, she stuck out her full lower lip at just the right angle and tugged lightly on Dylan’s index finger. Was it his imagination, or did he see a spark fly when she touched him? “Please, Dylan?” Her soft voice wavered slightly, and she stepped closer to him. Dylan took in a sharp breath, and felt his heart melt into a puddle of goop in his chest. “I’m really scared.”
The battle was lost before it had even begun.
Kirsten peered up at him through her long, thick eyelashes, and smiled to herself, but was still careful to keep a pleading expression plastered on her face. Three, two, one…
“Okay, Kirsten, you win,” said Dylan, sighing.
Ha. All those hours of watching Kim Possible reruns were so worth it.
Instantly, Kirsten’s face transformed and a bright smile lit up her face, reaching her eyes and making them sparkle like emeralds in the sun. “I won! I won!” she giggled gleefully, dancing about in the evening sunshine. Her hair shone like newly spun gold in the dying light, and Dylan had to fight back the overpowering urge to reach out and run his hands through it. Instead, he reached out and took her hand, pulling her to his side.
“Okay, okay, you won,” he smiled down at her. She barely reached his shoulder, and he loved that for some odd reason. Perhaps it was just the old “I’m taller, so I’m better than you” mindset.
Or maybe it was because she fit so nicely under his chin…not that he had tried.
“So where do you want to go next?”
Sea green eyes twinkled up at him. “Guess.”
Dylan rolled his own chocolate brown eyes and groaned. “Oh, Kirsten. Please, no. Anything but that.” he begged, dropping down to his knees and grasping her hands. “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaseeeeeeeeeee.” Her only response was to smirk mischievously and drag him by sheer force towards the horror of all horrors:
The Funhouse.
Kirsten huffed and turned her little nose up, shaking her blond hair back and placing a hand on her hip. “Well, I don’t care. Why do we have to grow up so fast, anyway? What’s wrong with being a kid for a few hours?” she pouted. Her annoyance lasted only until she spied an image of her body in a mirror that made it look like she had just been stepped on by an elephant, and burst into hysterical laughter. Dylan grinned despite himself. He loved seeing Kirsten so happy. He moved to join her, and together, both of them laughed and giggled at the ridiculous reflections.
After half an hour, Dylan glanced at his watch. “Okay, Kirs, time to go.” He tugged on her hand. “Aw, okay.” She came with him reluctantly, and together both of them walked through a dark passage, following the exit signs. They were silent, each thinking their own thoughts...it had been a long day, and they were tired out.
However, the Funhouse had one last surprise in store for them.
“Randall?!?!!”
Kirsten let go of Dylan’s hand and stared at the couple in shock, rooted to the spot. The man looked very uncomfortable, and the girl, an extremely pretty redhead, simply turned and stared at Kirsten insolently, curling her slender arms around Randall’s neck. “Yeah, he’s my Randall, what of it, bitch?” said the girl, putting special emphasis on the word ‘my’. “If you don’t mind, could you hurry along like a good little girl? You’re kinda interrupting a session here, ya know,” continued the girl, smirking nastily at Kirsten. Randall shook the redhead’s hands off him and she pouted.
Ignoring her, Randall strode over to Kirsten, who was trembling with rage. He stopped in front of her and pushed a hand through his jet-black hair, blinking his dark blue eyes nervously. “Kirsten, baby, I’m real sorry, this isn’t what it looks like-”
Smack!
The sound echoed throughout the passage. Randall’s head whipped to one side, and Dylan saw the angry red imprint of a hand clearly defined on his left cheek. The bitchy redhead gasped in surprise. Randall turned to stare at Kirsten, guilt turned to rage, eyes narrowing to mere slits. “You're gonna regret that,” hesnarleddangerously. He took one step towards Kirsten’s petite frame, but Dylan was already in front of her, cold brown eyes staring straight at him.
“Leave, Winters. You’ve done enough.”
Randall bristled with anger and outrage, but at 6’1 feet, he was shorter and less muscular than the 6’4 Dylan. It didn’t help that Dylan had a black belt in taekwondo, either. Muttering angrily to himself, he took the redhead by the hand and stalked out of the Funhouse, pausing to yell back, “This isn’t over, Andrews! Not by a long shot!” And with that thinly veiled threat, he vanished.
An anger the likes of which Dylan had never known before blazed up in him and almost consumed him whole. His whole mind was occupied with the thought of murder, specifically, Randall’s murder. “Why that fuc-” He made to chase after him, but felt a hand on his arm.
“It’s not worth it, Dylan.”
“But Kirs-” Dylan was cut off when he looked down at Kirsten, and saw her golden head bowed, although her hand was still on his arm. She was trembling slightly, and he wondered if she was cold. Just as he was about to ask…
Plop!
He heard the drop fall, and wondered whether it was raining. No, that can’t be right, he thought, we’re in the Funhouse. Then, Dylan noticed that the floor directly underneath Kirsten was spattered with drops of water. A sudden realization struck him, and he gently lifted her chin. She did not resist, and he was shocked to see the twin rivers flowing down from her eyes over her deathly pale cheeks. She was shaking from trying to hold in the sobs that threatened to burst out, and he could see it was taking every last bit of control that she had.
Oh, shit.
“Kirs…don’t cry…please don’t cry, Kirsten…” he said awkwardly, patting her on the back. Hey, he was a guy. If he didn’t do something soon, her whole body would soon be convulsed with sobs, and then it would be too late. But what was he supposed to do?! He racked his brains, and at last remembered a self-help book he had idly flipped through while waiting in a doctor’s office recently. Offer comfort. So he did.
“A bastard like that isn’t worth your tears, Kirs, you’re better off without him…”
The only thing that accomplished was to make Kirsten collapse against his chest and sob her heart out, clutching handfuls of his shirt as if that would staunch the pain flowing from the deep wound in her heart.
Too late.
Ah, shit. Screw the stupid book.
He sat down carefully on the dusty floor, and pulled Kirsten to him, stroking her back soothingly, whispering nonsense in her ears, like he had always done. She continued sobbing against his chest for a long time. When her sobs finally subsided, the whole front of Dylan’s shirt was wet, but he barely noticed. He continued rubbing her back in circles as she started choking words out, her tears not yet dry.
“First Angela…then Melissa…Bridget…Stephanie…Veronica…and now…(gulp)..this…” she sputtered miserably. “Why, Dylan? I…always gave him a chance…(sob)..he always said…said he would change…but…” She dissolved into tears again, and Dylan could do nothing about it. He certainly wasn’t a man of words, that much he knew. All he could do was sit there and be there for her…like he had done so many times before. It certainly wasn’t the first time that good-for-nothing idiot had hurt her. Yet, there was no getting used to it; if anything, it seemed to hurt her even more. Every time he saw her sad, a little part of him died inside; she was his joy, his light, his glory.
“Shhh,” said Dylan soothingly. “Don’t cry, Kirsten,” he whispered for the umpteenth time that day, but so softly that she wouldn’t hear it.
“You’re hurting me, too.”
It’s hard to wipe your tears away
Knowing that you should be with me
Now tell me
Kirsten was still crying when they pulled up in front of her house half an hour later. The sky had already turned dark, but it was a cloudy night – fitting for her mood. Dylan stopped his black Ford Mustang in front of her tall, imposing, iron-wrought house gates and switched off the engine. He turned to look at Kirsten.
“I-I’m sorry-Dylan…I j-just…c-can I…stay here a-a while?” she choked out between gulps.
Without hesitation, Dylan nodded. “Of course, Kirs. Anything you need.”
At his words, fresh tears streamed down her wet cheeks, and he put his arm around her comfortingly, even wiping the tears away as they slid down her face. Soon, a pile of tissues formed on the floor of his Mustang. It grew and grew as the night wore on. Eventually, Kirsten fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. Dylan dabbed at her cheeks one last time, and tried to remove his stiff arm from around her shoulders. However, the moment he moved it, Kirsten stirred, and he stopped moving for fear of waking her. The last thing he needed was for her to wake up and start crying all over again.
Having nothing better to do, Dylan studied her face. She was indescribably beautiful, even after hours and hours of non-stop crying. He loved her usually sparkling green eyes the best, but of course her high cheekbones, small nose, full lips and wavy golden hair that curled around her shoulders only completed the perfect picture. He gently took her soft, small hand in his, and marveled for the hundredth time how perfectly it fit in his larger, rougher hand. Kirsten. Everyone loved her, too, for she was a brilliant student and head cheerleader to boot, yet she was nice to everyone, no matter jock, preppie, nerd, geek, skater or punk. She was the golden girl ofLeondale High School.
So how the hell had she ended up with scum like Randall Winters?
It was a rhetorical question, really, for he already knew the answer. Typical story of good-looking guy with exceptional charm who uses sweet, beautiful girl to get into the popular circle and attract MORE popular girls, then leaves said sweet, beautiful girl. Actually, he rather thought that Randall had been looking to ‘get some’ with Kirsten, but Dylan knew for a fact that she wasn’t that kind of girl. Which probably explained Randall and Redhead in the Funhouse that day.
Randall and Redhead. He allowed himself a mirthless smirk. How fitting for each other. Or maybe The Bitch and The Beast would be better?
Dylan sighed. Kirsten didn’t deserve all this. She deserved a nice, sweet guy that would take care of her no matter what. Someone whose very world revolved around her. Someone that would stand up for her, protect her, love her, cherish her...die for her.
Someone like…him.
As soon as the thought popped up in his brain, Dylan tried to push it away, but it only grew and grew until it occupied all the available space in his mind. He looked at Kirsten’s angelic face, sleeping soundly, and felt his heart wrench. There was no running from the truth now, in the dead of night, with nothing to distract you:
He loved her.
He should have realized it earlier, he thought, remembering the waves of jealousy he got when he saw Kirsten with Randall, or with any other guy for that matter. They were so strong, he could barely concentrate on his work in class for thinking about her. She always lurked somewhere in his mind, no matter if he was eating, playing or working. Heck, he wasn’t even safe in his dreams any more. Too many times he had jolted awake, sweaty and breathless, from a dream which invariably involved her.
It got harder and harder to comfort her each time she got hurt by the jerks she always seemed to date. She would come running to him, green eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and he could only put his arms around her and rock her till she cried herself to sleep.
She should be with me, he thought bitterly. I would never hurt her.
If only she liked me that way…
Why
Why are we still friends
When everything says
We should be more than we are
And tell me why
Every time I find
Someone that I like
We always end up just being
Friends
“Who do you go running to when you feel sad?” Kirsten murmured to herself. She looked up from the computer screen towards Dylan, who was sprawled on her bed. She smiled at him. “Well, no duh. You, of course.” She returned her eyes to the screen and typed his name inside the box. “Dylan Hunt.”
They were in her room, just hanging out on a Friday afternoon, the way they always had since 8th grade. It had become a ritual of sorts for them, but ever since Dylan had walked in on Kirsten and Randall kissing on her bed one day, the ritual had stopped for a while. Dylan rubbed his eyes at the memory. His eyes hurt just thinking about that day, giving literal meaning to the phrase, “My eyes! They burn!”
Still, now with Randall out of the picture, he would have her to himself again…for sighed softly. Guys were always hovering around her like damned vultures, ready to sweep in once another left.
She was going to be the death of him someday, he just knew it.
Erasing the thoughts from his overactive brain, Dylan rolled over and propped his head on his arm. “Gee, Kirs, I didn’t know you were into the whole ‘online quiz’ scene,” he commented.
“Well, why not? Some of them are quite accurate, you know,” she shot back. Suddenly, a message box popped up, and she grinned as she read the contents. “Although evidently not this one.”
“Why? What’s it say?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
She crooked a slender finger at him. “Here. Come see for yourself.” She giggled again as she looked at the computer screen.
He groaned, but rolled off the bed and uncurled his long frame gracefully. Running his fingers through his spiky brown hair, he made his way lazily towards the computer, where Kirsten was twirling around on her computer chair. “Let’s see what we have here.” Dylan bent down and began to read.
Kirsten was giggling, hardly able to contain her mirth. “It’s so off the mark, isn’t it?” she asked. “I mean, the thought that I would be 99 compatible with you!” She giggled even harder, tears almost leaking out of the corners of her eyes. She regained her composure slightly, and continued, “You’re my best friend, Dylan. I could never date you. It’s just so funny!” And with that, she dissolved into giggles again.
She was so busy giggling, she didn’t notice the faint shadow that passed across Dylan’s handsome face. He smiled, showing his white teeth, but his eyes remained blank and expressionless.
“Yeah. Hilarious.”
Who you really love
Cos’ it would mean losing you
But am I a fool, girl, not to say
If I’m always scared
I’ll lose you anyway
Somehow, somewhere, I’ve got to choose
No matter if it’s win or lose
Now tell me
“Come on, Kirs!” he urged impatiently. “We’re going to miss it if you don’t hurry up!” Dylan tugged on her hand and she stumbled.
“Hey, it’s hard to climb up a hill in 3-inch heels, okay?!” said Kirsten angrily, flipping her flaxen locks over her shoulder in frustration. “You try climbing Starlight Hill in these things, more so at night, when you can’t even see your own feet!”
"Why are you wearing those heels anyway?" he queried. When he received no answer, he sighed. “Alright, fine.” Dylan let go of Kirsten’s hand, and she looked up, surprised. “You asked for it.”
“What are you going to - Aaaah!! Put me down!” she squealed, as Dylan hoisted her up in his arms and threw her over his broad shoulder. Hey, she’s real light.
He grinned, although he knew she couldn’t see it. “Well, you said you couldn’t walk, so I’m carrying you.”
“Dylan Connor Hunt! You put me down this instant, do you hear me?!” Kirsten shrieked, giggling uncontrollably and kicking her legs about.
“That sounded more like a…friendly suggestion to me.” Chuckling to himself, Dylan carried her all the way up to the top of Starlight Hill, enduring kicks and scratches all the way.
Finally, he deposited her unceremoniously on the ground, where she landed with a ‘oomph!’ Kirsten rubbed her butt, grimacing up at Dylan. “You idiot, that hurt.”
Dylan sat down beside her and rubbed his ribs, where a particularly painful kick had landed. “Oh, and your kicks didn’t hurt, did they?”
“Fine, we’re even.” She held out her hand to him. “Truce?”
“Truce.” He grasped her hand and shook it firmly.
Kirsten tried to pull her hand away, but Dylan wasn’t letting go just yet. “Um, Dylan? You can let go of my hand now,” she said, grinning at him, but her grin faltered when she saw the completely serious expression on his face. “Dylan..?”
“However,” he continued, as if she had never spoken, “There is one last thing I have to do first.”
And with that, he proceeded to pull her towards him…
…and tickle her to death.
“Hahaha! Okay, okay! Stop, stop, stop!” pleaded Kirsten breathlessly, trying to squirm away from Dylan’s merciless fingers. However, with 150 pounds of solid Dylan lying on top of her, this was no easy task. She beat him with her fists, but he wouldn’t budge an inch. Dylan smirked, his white teeth flashing in the darkness. “Only if you say you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!! Please, Dylan!” she begged.
Dylan sighed, pretending to be sad. “Aw, you’re no fun.” He stopped tickling her and made to get up off her, but stopped when he looked into her beautiful eyes, now almost black in the darkness. The moon came out from behind a cloud and cast a silvery glow over the hillside, illuminating her face, making her seem almost ethereal, like a pale goddess with her golden hair, fanning out on the soft grass, and her delicate, angelic features. Only thing that’s left is to grow wings, he thought dazedly, momentarily stunned by her beauty. I can’t imagine life without you.
“I can’t either, Dylan.” Kirsten whispered softly, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Shit. Had he said that last sentence out loud?
Apparently he had, for she reached up and gave him a hug, something Kirsten would never normally do, except with maybe (he gulped) her boyfriends. Tentatively, he hugged her back. Her slim frame fit nicely against his long, lean body…perhaps too nicely.
Tell her how you feel about her now, a voice in his head whispered. It’s the perfect moment. Tell her, tell her, tell her!
But what if she rejects me, another voice argued. Things will never be the same between us again. I don’t want to lose her.
You fool! The first voice scolded. You’ll lose her anyway if you don’t tell her!
As he was still struggling with his internal debate, Kirsten unwittingly made his decision for him when she pulled away, and he lost his chance. The voices in his head faded away, but one word resounded in his brain:
Fool.
“Well, now that the Hallmark moment’s over, would you mind getting off me? Only you’re crushing me to death.” She grinned. Dylan sighed inwardly. Oh yeah, the moment was gone all right. He rolled sideways off her, and sat up silently, not replying her with a witty retort like he normally would have.
“Look!” Kirsten pointed to the skies, and Dylan raised his head reluctantly, just in time to see a falling star streak fire across the night sky. Kirsten reached out and gripped his hand excitedly as more and more stars began to fall. “Quick, Dylan, make a wish!” She closed her eyes, and Dylan could hear her muttering indistinctly to herself under her breath.
Smiling softly, he closed his eyes and wished too.
Suddenly, a hand shot out of nowhere and shook him. “Dylan! Haven’t you finished wishing yet?” His eyes flew open, only to meet bright green eyes staring back at him. “Yeah,” he nodded, “I’ve wished.”
“Oooh! Tell me tell me tell me!” He grinned at how she sounded exactly like an excited little schoolgirl.
“No, I can’t. Haven’t you heard? If you tell your wish to someone, it won’t come true.”
“Awwww.” She looked disappointed, and Dylan had to resist the urge to laugh.
“Well, do you know what I wished for?” Her smile was back, firmly in place.
“Let me guess…a new Barbie doll?” Dylan teased.
Kirsten slapped him on his arm and he mock winced, pretending that it actually hurt. Which it surprisingly did, but only a little.
“I don’t play with Barbie dolls…” Dylan lifted an eyebrow at her skeptically, “…all the time,” she conceded, glaring at Dylan. He grinned.
“Kirsten Rowena Andrews being truthful? Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” he teased her. She pouted and turned away from him, crossing her arms. “Fine, then I won’t tell you what I wished for,” said Kirsten sulkily. He scooted closer to her and turned her so that she faced him.
“Okay, okay, I won’t tease you any more, I’m sorry,” he apologized, though in truth he wasn’t sorry at all. “So go on, Your Highness, spill the beans.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, but uncrossed her arms, and a dreamy smile lit up her face. “I wished for my Prince Charming to come…someone who I can really love, and will take care of me, and will never, ever cheat on me.” Her voice wobbled slightly as she said the last part, and Dylan knew what she was thinking about. He put an arm around her, and she leaned into him, sighing contentedly. They were silent for a long while, him busy with his own thoughts, her watching the stars as they continued to fall, white hot streaks against the black backdrop of the night sky. A zephyr blew up and toyed with long strands of her golden hair, sometimes stroking his face. Dylan shivered uncontrollably, but not because he was cold.
“Hey…Dylan?” A soft, sleepy murmur caught his attention, and he tilted his head to gaze down at the head nestled on his shoulder. “Yeah, Kirs?”
“Do you think he’ll ever come? My Prince Charming?” She mumbled sleepily, and yawned.
What if he’s already here, but you don’t know it?
Thankfully, this time he didn’t voice his thoughts out loud.
He smiled gently at her. “Sure he will, Kirs. Sure he will.” She lapsed back into silence, but he could see a sleepy smile stretching her lips, and felt his heart twinge at her sheer innocence.
Do you want to know what I wished, Kirsten? I wished…I had the courage to tell you,he thought.At least it would be better to know the truth once and for all than to be a fool for eternity.
Double or nothing.
Why
Why are we still friends
When everything says
We should be more than we are
And tell me why
Every time I find
Someone that I like
We always end up just being
Friends
Dylan was sitting in his room, bored out of his mind. Kirsten had gone to the mall with her girlfriends, and as much as he loved her, there was no way he was going to spend a perfectly fine Saturday afternoon walking his socks off in the mall, listening to a bunch of giggly girls, ‘those shoes are SO HOT!’, ‘that skirt would look so great on you!’ ‘what do you think of this dress, does it make me look fat?’ Next thing you knew, they’d be offering to give HIM a makeover. He shuddered. Perish the thought.
Problem is, his jock friends were all at his friend Mark’s house, watching some football match or other. They were probably splattering each other with soda and pigging out on pizza or Chinese takeout while yelling at the screen, “Pass it to Rooney, damn it! PASS!!!” Hard to believe as it was, Dylan actually wasn’t really that into football. He had nothing against ‘the beautiful game’, as Maradona so eloquently put it, it was just that he found basketball to be a lot more interesting. Hence his exclusion from the football-mad society of Westside High. He didn’t really mind, actually.
Of course, that still didn’t help his current state of boredom. Dylan flopped on his bed and stared at the posters of Michael Jordan plastered all over his pristine white walls. Dylan wasn’t really one for decoration…he preferred a no-frills, down-to-earth look for his bedroom, which explained the lack of anything remotely colourful in his room, save the posters. Even his boring white bed was covered by a boring white blanket, and on top lay a boring white pillow. Boring, boring, triple boring. Which was exactly what he was now.
Ping!
Dylan’s brown head swiveled around eagerly as an instant messaging box popped up on the screen of his previously silent computer. Finally! Someone to talk to. He plopped down in a chair in front of the computer, and was surprised when he realized it was Mark.
markmywords: hey, man, wassup? y aren’t u over here trashing d house like de rest of us?
deludedDCH: I dun do football, lol. So what’s up? y aren’t u watching d game?
markmywords: now halftime, England’s leading 2-1. d others r fighting about hu gets to use de bathroom 1st. GOOOOOOOOO ENGLAND!!
deludedDCH: lol yeah, go England.
markmywords: u sound bored. get ur ass over here and join d parrrrrrtayyyyy!
deludedDCH: haha. I’m not THAT deluded. nice try.
markmywords: hmph. fine. ur no fun.
deludedDCH: I am bored tho. anything to do online? any new games?
markmywords: hmm. u can try jabberwacky. it’s a kewl AI site. u can juz type in nonsense n shit 2 it n it’ll actually REPLY, like it really noes wat u’re thinking. IS DAT KEWL OR WAT???
Dylan paused to wonder whether Mark was drunk.
deludedDCH: hey Mark, u sure u ok? u sound drunk, lol.
markmywords: I’m fineeeeeeee. now u wan d web or wat?
deludedDCH: sure, give it 2 me. hav fun watching.
markmywords: u got it, babeeee!! England KICKS ASS!!
:markmywords is now offline:
Dylan shook his head and grinned. “They’re all crazy,” he muttered to himself, smiling. He typed in the address that Mark had given him, and found himself staring at a random sentence:
Are you clever?
He grinned. This could be interesting. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed in a response:
Not really.
I see. So how’s things?
Well, I’m in love with my best friend, and I’m too afraid to tell her.
You are in love with money.
Dylan paused for a moment to laugh. For a robot, this one sure was a witty one.
No, I’m actually in love with a human being..A girl to be exact.
You think. You do not KNOW.
Oh, I know all right.
How do you know all?
I don’t, but I know that I’m in love.
Can you tell, if I’m in love?
No. I’m not a romance expert, how would I know?
You said you knew everything.
No I didn’t!
Yes you did.
I’m not getting into this pointless argument.
I don’t like you.
Same goes for me.
Can I be your girlfriend?
You’re a computer program. Besides, I only want Kirsten as my girlfriend.
So ask her!
Creepily enough, Jabberwacky (or whatever the hell its name was) actually started making sense the moment Kirsten’s name was mentioned.
I…daren’t.
Cowardly cowardly custard.
Enough is enough. Dylan clicked the ‘X’ at the top right hand corner of the screen, fuming. Now even a supposedly brainless AI program was calling him a coward?! He knew that the program was only giving random responses, but that random conversation had seemed…eerily real. He got up and paced about his room, dragging his hand through his forest of dark hair in frustration.
I’m not a coward, he told himself angrily. I’m not.
I just…don’t want her to end up like…Valerie.
Dylan slumped on the carpeted floor, his back against his bed. He buried his head in his hands, remembering that fateful day, 7 years ago…
“You’re my best friend ever, Valerie,” the dark haired boy said.
“You are too, Dylan,” said the chubby redheaded girl, her hair in pigtails, her blue eyes gleaming happily.
The boy shuffled his feet nervously, his chocolate eyes trained on his sneakers. “Val…”
The girl looked at him curiously. “Yes?”
“I…kinda sorta maybe perhaps…like you….”
The girl looked shocked and took a few steps backwards. “Oh…uh…I…I have to go, my mommy’s calling me. Bye!” And with that, she turned around and ran away, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to get away from him.
One week later, Dylan moved away, and he never saw her again.
Dylan sighed. Granted, he had only been 10 years old at the time, but losing a friend at any age still hurt – a lot. It was an experience he definitely did not wish to repeat. But things with Kirsten were reaching breaking point…He mulled things over in his head for a long while, went round and round in circles, and finally ended up at the same conclusion he had reached months ago: Either he told her, and probably lose her…or he kept his silence, and lost her for sure.
To tell, or not to tell, that is the question.
I don’t wanna be like your brother
I don’t wanna be your best friend
I only wanna be your lover
When will this end
If I told you that I wanna be in your life
Then you could be the woman in mine
Now tell me
“Dylaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnn! Wakey wakey, Dylan, time to get up!”
Dylan groaned and turned on his side, stuffing a pillow over his ear. “5 more minutes, Mom…” he mumbled sleepily into his bedclothes.
There was silence, and Dylan assumed his mother had let him be. Funny, he thought drowsily, I didn’t hear the door close. He was about to drift back into la-la land when…
“OUCH! What the fu-”
Dylan sat bolt upright in bed, rubbing his arm, which had a very noticeable red mark on it. He rubbed it frantically, trying to soothe the biting pain traveling up his arm. “Damn, Mom, I was about to get up already, no need to pinch me…” he grumbled, looking up. The rest of his complaints flew out the window, and all colour drained from his face as a pair of laughing emerald eyes met his. “Oh. Uh. Hi, Kirs..uh..what’re you doing here?” he managed to stammer out.
Oh, smooth, Hunt. Real smooth.
Kirsten’s pretty lips met together in a pout. “You said you’d walk me to school today, remember, Dylan?” She shook her head at him and rolled her big eyes ruefully. “I should have known you would forget.” She turned and looked sideways at him. “I guess I’ll have to go myself…all on my little lonesome…” She sighed, dragging her feet, her head down, preparing to make her way out the door.
“No, no! Okay! I’ll get dressed already! Wait for me in the living room, I’ll be down in 5 minutes,” Dylan hurriedly assured her. There was only so much he could take of Kirsten’s ‘guilt trips’, which she used as an alternative form of blackmail. Her lips curved in a delighted, self-satisfied grin, and she literally bounced down the stairs.
4 minutes and 36 seconds later, a breathless Dylan almost tumbled down the stairs in his haste to get to the living room, where Kirsten was sitting, chatting politely with his mother.
“You really should come over more often, Kirsten, then I would be able to get Dylan up for school on time,” Mrs. Hunt said, smiling warmly at Kirsten. Kirsten turned to face Dylan, and gave him a gleeful smirk. “The pleasure would be all mine, Mrs. Hunt,” she replied, and Dylan didn’t doubt her for a second. The girl’s fingernails were deadly.
“Okay, well, it’s time to go, so see ya Mom,” Dylan said hurriedly, trying to minimize the communication between Mrs. Hunt and Kirsten. Between the two of them, who knows what elaborate schemes they might hatch, simply to get him up for school on time?? He made a mental note never to forget to set his alarm clock again. Grabbing Kirsten by the hand, he pulled her out the door, into the warm summer air.
“So what was that all about?” asked an amused Kirsten, as they walked together to school. “You acted like you didn’t want me to hang around your mom.”
“I…wanted to get to school early,” he lied.
“Uh-huh,” she nodded her head, but he could see that she didn’t believe him in the least, if the all-knowing smirk on her face was any indication. He merely shrugged lightly and offered her a weak smile. She rolled her eyes, but smiled, this time a genuine smile, and began to talk about other topics.
Randall Winters.
Randall made his slow, lazy way towards them, and Dylan balled his fists, not knowing what to expect. Perhaps he wanted a continuation of the Funhouse confrontation. Perhaps he wanted to beat Dylan up.
He certainly didn’t expect Randall to grab Kirsten and kiss her full on the lips.
“Ooof!”
All the breath wheezed out of Randall as he doubled over, clutching his gut. Dylan had pulled him off Kirsten, then had given his fist free rein and it had chosen to sink into Randall’s flat stomach. Dylan derived great satisfaction from seeing his nemesis in pain. But that did nothing to explain his audacity to kiss Kirsten after he had effectively broken, shattered, stomped on, jumped all over and crushed her heart to microscopic pieces.
Dylan drew himself up to his full 6’4 height, towering over Randall, balling his fists again. Much to his silent chagrin, Randall neither looked intimidated nor fearful. Instead, he simply looked…smug. What an odd expression for a guy who had just been punched in the gut. He stepped in front of a shocked Kirsten, rather like a mother hen protecting her chicks, and growled, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Winters?”
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Dylan Hunt.” Randall sneered, straightening up and crossing his arms. “What does it look like I’m doing, blockhead? I’m kissing my girl! Jealous much?” he taunted, cerulean eyes sparkling with malice.
Dylan clenched his fists so hard, his knuckles were turning white. “She’s not your girl, so stay the hell away from her if you know what’s good for you,” he managed to bite out.
The smirk remained firmly plastered in place on Randall’s annoyingly good-looking face. “Isn’t she now?” he taunted. “Go ahead, ask her.”
Dylan whirled around, cold fear gripping his heart and making his voice higher-pitched than usual.
“Kirsten. He’s lying, right, Kirsten? Right??”
Her head was bowed slightly, golden hair forming a curtain around her face, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “He’s not lying,” she whispered almost inaudibly, but Dylan’s sharp ears caught her words, and his heart sank faster than the Titanic.
He couldn’t control his rage and disbelief. “Why, Kirsten? After all he did to you? After all those times he cheated on you, even after you forgave him? And you’re taking him back? AGAIN?!” The words simply poured out of him, unbidden. He took a deep breath, and continued, slightly calmer, “I just want to know, Kirsten…why?”
“He apologized,” she whispered. “He said he loved me, and that…all those other girls…were just a mistake…” She gazed up at him, green eyes brimming with unshed tears, imploring him to understand. “I love him, Dylan…I can’t live without him…”
Dylan couldn’t believe it. He ran a hand through his messy chestnut hair in pure frustration and resisted the urge to swear and curse so badly, his ancestors would blush. Randall had cheated on Kirsten countless times, yet he could waltz back into her life whenever it pleased him with just a stupid apology?! “Yes, you can, Kirsten,” he was trying very hard not to snap at her. Didn’t she see that there were other people that actually cared about her?! “You have your parents. Friends.” He paused slightly before continuing, “Me.”
"Alright, that's it. I'm sick of being bitched about behind my back," announced Randall. He stalked up and snaked a possessive arm around Kirsten’s slim waist, pulling her to him, glaring at Dylan, who returned his glare. It didn’t help Dylan’s already boiling temper when he noticed that she didn’t resist.
A malicious smirk curled Randall's lips. "What's wrong, Hunt? Jealous?" he taunted.
A muscle twitched in Dylan's eye. "She's way too good for you, Winters," he snarled.
A shadow crossed Randall's face, but it was instantly replaced by anger. "I don't have to prove myself to you, Hunt. Just who the hell are you to tell her what to do, anyway?" said Randall angrily. He dropped his arm from Kirsten's waist and took a step forward, leveling Dylan with a murderous stare and cracking his knuckles."Stay the fuck away from my girlfriend, asshole."
Before he could retaliate, Kirsten spoke up first, clutching Randall's arm and tugging him back, away from Dylan, who looked ready to kill. “Don’t talk like that to Dylan, Randall,” she said sharply.
Oh, so now the jellyfish grows a backbone, thought Dylan bitterly. Yet,a small bubble of pride arose in his chest. Kirsten stood up for me.
“He’s my best friend ever. The brother I never had,” she continued, glaring up at Randall.
The bubble burst.
Randall snorted, but drew Kirsten back against his side. “Yeah, whatever.” He ignored Dylan and began to nuzzle her neck. “Come on, babe, I’ll drive you to school.” His lips moved to rest upon her own.
Dylan felt his heart hit rock bottom as she kissed him back…enthusiastically.
“I’ll see ya around, Kirsten,” he muttered, and swiftly strode away from them towards school.
Why are we still friends
When everything says
We should be more than we are
And tell me why
Every time I find
Someone that I like
We always end up just being
Friends
Dylan heard the sound of pattering feet behind him, but he didn’t turn around until he heard a familiar voice calling his name.
“Dylan! Stop a while, won’t you?”
Reluctantly, he stopped and turned slowly around to face his stalker. “Yeah, Kirsten?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
She brushed a lock of golden hair off her forehead and exhaled softly. “Look, Dylan, about just now…”
Dylan interrupted her, having seen that Randall was nowhere to be found. “So where’s your boyfriend?”
Kirsten winced at the obvious hatred in his tone. “I made him go on to school without me. I wanted to talk to you,” she said nervously, and Dylan felt himself soften a little. “What did you need to talk about?” he said gruffly.
“Dylan…I’m sorry for what Randall said. It was really out of line,” she apologized.
Dylan snorted. "You think?"
She sighed and stared at the ground. "Yeah, he can be an asshole sometimes," she conceded.
Sometimes? Try every waking moment of his life.
"It won't happen again," she promised.“You’re my best friend ever, Dylan, and I would never hurt you.”
But what if I don’t want to be just your ‘best friend ever’?
Kirsten stuck out her hand. “So, friends?” she asked, smiling at Dylan hopefully.
Dylan looked at the hand and pushed it away. “I don’t want to be just friends, Kirsten,” he said. “I want to be…your lover.” With that, he leaned down and planted a long kiss on her rosy lips.
Or, he wished he had the courage to do that.
Instead, he looked at the hand, and grasped it firmly in his own. Kirsten smiled up at him, relieved that she had gotten her best friend back, so much so that she didn’t notice the trace of suppressed regret in his voice:
“Yeah. Just friends.”
A/N: I’m ba-ack! Yes, I know, I haven’t been updating for a long time..(cringes) Too busy reading all the wonderful stories on FP. Haha. No, seriously. That and the exams that have been coming up..seriously, they’re killers. Doesn’t help that I still have a week of exams left. Sigh.
Anyway, here’s a new songfic, using the song Why (Are We Still Friends) by, yet again, 98 Degrees. Originally, I didn’t want to use songs by the same singers twice, but the idea for this story came up, so…I figured why waste it? God, 7500 words..that's twice as long as my last songfic. I guess I just went crazy writing this one. xD The after-effects of not writing for too long.
I put this Author's Notes at the back, because it was slightly longer than usual. When you read this, you should have finished reading the story by now, so I would like to ask a teeny tiny, practically microscopic favour of you. PLEASE REVIEW. I mean, it takes like, what, 5 seconds to write a perfectly good review, and it would really mean a lot to me! And I apologize in advance if the story doesn’t flow well..writing’s a bit rusty from lack of use, and I haven't gone through the story with a toothcomb like I normally would have, because I'm dead tired.
Edit: The story's been edited because there were a few parts that didn't flow smoothly..so, yeah. Oh, and don't think too harshly of Kirsten...she's just a confused teenage girl with an overdose of hormones and is too used to getting her way. She's the 'golden girl' of Leondale High, after all. Dylan has also gained weight to 150 pounds..haha.
So, yeah. That’s about it. Thanks for reading, and you are highly encouraged (read that as practically begged) to review!!
