Note! Apologies in advance for any random spaces. Fictionpress hates me for some reason and won't let me get rid of them.

“This is boring,” Atticus said.

“Shut up,” his loving girlfriend said.

“Ames, this is really, really awkward for me,” I heard Liam whisper. “It’s only been, what, two weeks? Three?” He picked at an orange flower on the couch and then went back to staring awkwardly at his shoes.

“This was her idea, somehow I don’t think she minds,” Amelie hissed back.

“Tonykins, what did you do to the DVD player?” Atticus asked.

Anthony turned to glare at him. He was poking buttons on the broken DVD player.

“Don’t call me that. And I didn’t do anything.”

Things just weren’t supposed to work the way I wanted them to. I had thought that it would be fun for all of us to get together, but apparently nobody else shared that sentiment, judging by everybody’s reactions.

“Well then,” I said.

“Yeah,” Tandy agreed.

“You know, I really think I should leave. I mean, all of you should hate me right now for, er,” Liam said.

“Surfer boy, you’re probably my favorite person in the room,” Atticus said.

Tandy hit him with the remote.

“I’m not a surfer,” Liam muttered.

“If you like him so much, maybe you should date him,” Tandy suggested eagerly.

“The yaoi has infected her brain,” Atticus explained to us. “And by the way, I do like you better than him.”

“Good.”

“Nobody hates you,” I said to Liam.

“Um.”

“Why aren’t you two touching at all?” Tandy asked politely.

“Erm,” both Liam and Amelie said.

“Public displays of affection,” I supplied.

“Got it!” Anthony cried. The TV screen went blue and proclaimed that the DVD player was on.

“We should watch Brokeback Mountain,” Tandy said.

“No!” all of the guys exclaimed.

“The Holiday,” I said.

“Nooo,” Liam groaned.

“Hey, I liked it.”

“It was so…so…”

“Don’t say it was a chick flick. Because it sucked a whole lot less than most chick flicks.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Waterworld,” Amelie said.

“Oh god no, I laughed my way though that whole thing,” Atticus said. “I mean, really, dirt is never going to be that cool. And Kevin Costner with gills is just weird. Seriously. If you make me watch that, I’ll do something drastic. I’ll…eat Tandy’s face.”

“You do that anyways,” Anthony muttered. Atticus threw a pillow at him.

“So The Princess Bride it is!” I announced.

Thankfully, nobody had a problem with that.

“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die,” Anthony said in a terrible Spanish accent. He brandished an invisible sword in the air as he sauntered over to the couch in a way he clearly thought befitted a Wizard of swords.

“My way’s not very sportsmanlike,” Atticus retorted.

“As you wish.”

“Wuv, twuuuue wuv.”

“Dear god,” I muttered. “You two are worse than me.”

“’Tis but a flesh wound!”

“Ant, that’s the wrong movie.”

“I know that.”

We ended up talking through the movie. Tandy decided to do all of Buttercup’s lines, and Atticus did Westley’s. The fact that they had all the lines memorized was a little strange. They sat curled up together in a big armchair, and they were just so cute that nobody had the heart to tell them to shut up.

Amelie and Liam sat barely touching each other. However, it was obvious how they felt, because they kept looking at each other.

I was sitting on Anthony. He was quite comfortable.

“So,” Amelie said, “are there any cookies?”

Atticus glared at her. “I don’t spend my whole life baking,” he said between lines.

“Yes you do,” Tandy chuckled as he said the next line.

“There are five different types of cookies in the pantry,” Anthony said. “I’d go get them for you, but I’m a little busy.” He poked my side.

“I’ll get them,” she said. She got up and went up the stairs. Liam looked awkward again.

“I have a question,” I said.

“Hmm?” my chair murmured.

“Is fire one syllable or two?”

“Surprisingly enough, that isn’t one of the things I stay up at night thinking about,” Atticus teased me.

“I do,” Anthony said. “And I think it’s two, because it just sounds stupid with one syllable.”

“I think so too.”

When Amelie got back, we were all trying to say “fire” with one syllable (it’s surprisingly harder than it sounds. Trust me.). She just stared at us.

“I can feel my IQ going down,” she said.

“Oh, hush,” I muttered.

“I have no idea what some of these cookies are, but they look amazing,” she said.

We settled in and watched a bit of the movie, until Buttercup was about to kill herself and Atticus decided to take the opportunity to address Tandy—using Westley’s words—about her breasts.

“Ewwww,” Anthony squeaked. “That’s gross.”

“That is a little weird,” I agreed.

“Shut up,” Tandy said.

“Anybody else think Buttercup is a moron?” Amelie asked. That made us all laugh. “She’s just so helpless. And stupid.” Amelie rolled her eyes.

“You’d never catch her with a paintball gun,” Liam said.

“She’s use it to poke the other people while screaming ‘Westley! Westley!’” Amelie rolled her eyes and bit into a cookie. “I would die without paintball.”

“So would I,” Liam said softly. They shared a shy glance. I assumed they weren’t really talking about paintball.

“Oh my god, they’re so cute!” Tandy squawked.

“They’re one of those adorable couples that make you go ‘aww,’” I said. They both blushed. “And Tandy and Atticus are the kind of couple that is so weird that nobody else gets it.”

“Hey!” Tandy said.

“It’s a good thing. You two are really the only ones who can understand each other that well.” I grinned and chuckled as Anthony groaned; his brother was kissing Tandy.

“So what kind of couple would you say you are?” Tandy asked when they broke apart.

“We aren’t a couple,” Anthony and I said in unison.

“Fine. I think you would be the passionate type of couple. I mean, you can’t keep your hands off each other anyways; if you threw kissing in the mix, it would be even worse.” She waggled her eyebrows at us.

“We can too keep our hands off each other,” I retorted as Anthony removed his right hand from my jeans pocket and his left from my waist.

“Actually, Polly, you kind of can’t,” Amelie said.

“Not helping,” I snapped.

“It was always a little awkward when we were going out,” Liam said. “You touched him more than you touched me.”

“God, I’m a horrible person,” I cried, hiding my face in my hands.

“I didn’t really mind though,” he assured me. “I kind of prefer to keep to myself.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s weird.”

“Polly,” Amelie said warningly.

“Sorry.”

Liam smiled.

“It’s okay. That’s probably why it, er, didn’t work. We’re very different.” He ran a hand through his blond hair, and bit his lip like he knew that there were more differences between us than just our hair color.

We all quieted down then. The last part about how there were five kisses that were the most passionate and pure and whatever else got eyerolls from Amelie and the Pierce boys. I thought the line was a little weird, but it was still very sweet.

“All right then,” Atticus said.

“Yeah,” Tandy agreed.

“So let’s do something manly like play football,” Atticus said.

“Says the one who knows all the lines and lives in a kitchen,” Tandy replied.

“How was work today, Ant?” I asked. “I really could’ve worked, you know.”

“This Simon guy, the one I told you about, seemed like an okay guy. He was genuinely interested in the work—but more interested in the girls that came in.” He sighed and lowered his head onto my shoulder. “I have to say, I like you better than him.”

“Well, good. That makes me happy.”

“You two are so adorable,” Amelie said.

“Hush. We are not.” His lips moved on my shoulder as he talked.

“Aren’t they adorable?” She turned to Liam, who looked at her like she was crazy. “Well, they are.”

“You guys need to make out or something,” Tandy said.

“Ew!” Atticus cried.

“I have a question about the hickeys,” Liam said.

The room got very quiet, and the only sound was Anthony as he choked.

“Um, okay,” I said. Liam was the only one who didn’t really know the full story about that.

“No,” Anthony gasped out. “You talk to me later.”

“Okay,” Liam said. “That’s fine with me.”

“Ant,” I murmured, “are you sure—“

“Polly, it’s fine.”

“Tell him the truth,” I whispered.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

I sighed and leaned against him.

“I’m really tired,” I murmured. “I think I’m going to leave.” Stretching, I stood up and yawned.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Anthony said. He too stood, and he hugged me tightly. “He won’t be mad,” he breathed into my ear

“Okay,” I replied. He kissed my forehead and then released me. On my way up the stairs, I called, “See you guys later.”

I only hoped Anthony was right about Liam.

--this break is on purpose!

“I’m breaking laws by talking to you,” I said.

“I don’t know why you didn’t just wait until you got here,” Anthony replied. “You haven’t even asked me how it went yet.”

“That’s because I’ve given up worrying about Liam. That’s Amelie’s job now.” I crawled to a stop and then made my turn. “Hopefully nobody sees me driving with my phone.”

“I really don’t think this is worth breaking the law for,” he said. “I’ll see you in two minutes anyways.”

“Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Right.”

“Shut up. You know I love you.”

I could hear him sigh deeply.

“No you don’t, Polly.”

“You can’t tell me that. Since when is my brain in your head? Last time I checked, it was still in mine.”

“Sometimes I wonder.”

“Oh, hush. When I get there I’m going to proclaim my love for you and you’ll just smile and tell me I don’t look quite as nice as I did on Sunday.” I dropped my phone as a policeman went by. Now, I don’t know how it is in other states, but in Illinois, you have to be eighteen to drive and talk on the phone at the same time. After the policeman was gone, I brought my phone back to my ear.

“Yes, that is my usual response to proclamations of love.”

I squeaked as a squirrel ran across the street.

“So you have had love proclaimed to you before?” I asked.

“No. Have you?”

“By my mother.”

“Oh, well, me too then. But my mom loves everybody so maybe it doesn’t count.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Of course it counts,” I said.

“Is that your car?”

“Hmm, I wonder who that hunk in the library could be.” By that time I had parked my car in front of the library window.

“Be quiet. You’ll make me jealous.”

“Oh my god!” I shrieked. “It’s Albert Pescal! Oh, I just knew there was something between us!”

“Pardon me while I go puke.”

“Meh.” I got out of my car.

“If I remember correctly, he interrupted something between us,” Anthony said.

“Hmm. I seem to recall that too,” I said as I walked up the stairs.

“And how do you recall it being?”

“Something about that sentence sounds wrong.”

“Answer the question.”

I opened the door.

“It was better than nice,” I informed him as I snapped my phone shut.

“Well, that’s good.” He smiled. “Same duties as Sunday?”

“Sure.” I grinned mischievously. “I love you.”

“You don’t look quite as nice as you did on Sunday,” he said, playing along. “And still you look amazing.”

“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He rolled his eyes and pushed away the cart of books to be shelved.

I assumed my position behind the desk and began checking books back in. While I was checking in The Silver Kiss, Anthony strolled past and went into the staff lounge. A moment later, I heard classical music.

“Gotta love TV radio,” he said. “Sirius is quite wonderful.”

“I really only listen to Sirius during Christmas. They have such lovely music.”

“Indeed. So hey, were you flirting with me earlier?”

I blinked innocently.

“What do you mean?” I’d completely given up pretending that I didn’t like him. Love him. Whatever.

“When you pulled up.”

“Oh, that? Nooo, Ant, I really thought I saw dear old Albert.”

“You had better be kidding,” he said, leaning across the desk in a very threatening manner.

As I leaned toward him, I said, “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.”

“I think you are.” He grinned.

“How do you know?”

“Wishful thinking.”

Watching him talk was so wonderful. He had such a nice mouth.

“Keep talking,” I said.

“Why?”

“Just—“

The front door opened and he backed away as a middle-aged woman in a denim jumper came in. She hurried up to the front counter and dropped a bag of books on it. I took her books and put them on the “To Be Checked In” cart.

“Hello, Mrs. Cooper,” Anthony said cheerfully.

“Oh, hi, Anthony,” she said, looking flustered. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Puppy Too Small is, would you? Annie is throwing a fit because we don’t have it.”

“Sure. Follow me.”

And then I was alone again, free to check in books.

I scanned the book for Mrs. Cooper when she came back; after thanking Anthony and myself, she left.

“She brings her kids here sometimes,” he said. “They’re adorable.”

“I bet.”

“Well, I’m going to go finish shelving.” He smiled and then returned to the young adult room. Luckily for me, the process of checking books in had become rote, and I was free to think about more important things. Like Anthony.

Once upon a time, thinking about my feelings and the feelings of a boy would have come second to books. However, there are some people who are just more important. Everybody had told me that he liked me, was crazy for me, was head-over-heels for me. I was beginning to see that maybe they were right. Guys don’t give you hickeys unless they like. Well, nice guys don’t, anyways. And Anthony was definitely a nice guy.

Guys don’t almost kiss you in front of Albert Pescal unless they liked you.

So I drew my conclusions.

He liked me. I liked him. The question was, did he like me as much as I liked him? Or maybe more? Less?

I liked to set myself up so as not to be disappointed. That had always been my philosophy on life. I always assumed that guys just didn’t like me that way, because otherwise it would hurt more if I was rejected. Which is why I’d never asked anyone out.

Initiative. That’s what I needed. And maybe a new life philosophy.

I found myself going backward. The break up. Liam. Prom. The bookstore. The day Anthony had kissed me. The day I had yelled at him for incorrect grammar usage. Not finding the book I wanted.

An Old-Fashioned Girl.

I was Polly.

That would mean that Liam was Mr. Sidney, and Anthony would be Tom.

I took a moment and laughed, because that meant that Atticus was Fanny, being a sibling of Anthony and all.

But that would make Tandy, Mr. Sidney…

Never mind. My metaphor was getting too confusing. Liam was Sidney. Yeah.

So. Would Tom actually profess his love for Polly, or would Polly become an old maid who would forever teach piano lessons and live with her kitten?

But wait. I didn’t play piano. Oh dear.

I sighed.

An Old-Fashioned Girl. It had started everything. I realized that, since the beginning of my figurative thinking, I had gotten absolutely no books checked in. I glanced down at the book in my hand, and I very nearly fainted.

Speak of the devil. There was sweet little Polly, plunking away on her piano.

Yep, you guessed it. An Old-Fashioned Girl.

I scrambled out from behind the desk, and I ran into the young adult room.

“Anthony!” I shrieked. “Look! I found it!”

He jumped and scattered all the books on the cart.

“What?” he cried.

“That day I came in and couldn’t find it!”

“Oh.”

“I’m making too big a deal of this, aren’t I?”

“Well, kind of.”

And then I took the initiative, and I threw myself at him. My arms wrapped around his head and I kissed him, good and hard. Then I jumped back, cried “Yes!” complete with a fist in the air, and then I did my mother’s touchdown dance.

He just stared at me, and I realized how stupid I looked.

“Oh. Sorry,” I said.

He blinked and then breathed deeply.

“Do you want to know the name of the girl I’ve loved for over a year?” he asked softly.

Oh crap. Over a year? The proverbial bug of my spirit squashed against a windshield.

“No,” I said in a small voice.

“Well it’s Polly!” he said.

I stared.

“But Anthony, we haven’t known each other that long.” I was still upset from the bug squashage.

“Well, I know that,” he said, “but I didn’t want to ruin the quote.”

“Oh my god!” I screamed. “Are you quoting Tom?”

“Um, yes.”

“Oh my god!” And the bug magically reincarnated itself. And then the bug froze and began having trouble breathing. “You love me?”

“Um.” He coughed.

The bug—you know what? Metaphors have never been my strong point.

“That’s great!” I cried.

“I’m glad.”

“You see, I’m afraid I love you too.”

We stared at each other.

“Polly, are you wondering why we’re still talking?”

“Kind of, yes.”

So he took my face in his hands and kissed me. Our fifth kiss, and all the Pollys of my being were swooning dramatically.

It was perfect. The most amazing, wonderful, fabulous thing ever. His arms were around my waist, and mine were around his neck. It was like every other time we had hugged, except it was very, very different. Obviously.

I sighed against his lips, and I felt, rather than heard, him chuckle.

The kiss was everything a kiss should be; passion, love, knowing that I’d probably loved him even when I had been with Liam. All that and more, rolled into…perfection. It was like a movie kiss from the old movies. At the end of the movie, the hero and heroine are locked in a deep kiss, oblivious to everything around them. Of course, there would be violins playing.

Wait.

Breathlessly, I pulled back.

“Ant,” I whispered.

“Hmm?” He stroked my face, his eyes still closed.

“Do you hear violins?”

His eyes opened.

“What?”

“Violins. Do you hear them? More specifically…Gone With the Wind?”

He leaned his forehead against mine and listened.

“You know, I think you’re right.”

“Huh.”

“It must be playing on Sirius.”

“Probably.”

“Seems rather fitting,” he said with a smile.

“Mmhmm.”

He kissed me again.

“So, how long for you?” I asked.

“What? You mean…I don’t know. I just started out liking you and it grew into this huge thing. I tried to tell you so many times.” His lips strayed to mine. Ever since we’d been friends, he had kissed my neck, my cheek, my forehead, but never my lips.

“I knew something was going on when you stripped down after prom and I developed this strange fixation with your chest,” I giggled. Speaking of which, my hands were splayed over his chest.

“Oh my god, Polly.”

“I know.”

“Why are we still talking?”

“Because that’s what we do.” I slipped one hand into his curly hair and I pulled his head down to kiss him.

Absolutely perfect.

A/N: OH my God! LAST CHAPTER! yeah. It's pretty durn exciting. I hope people actually read these notes because sometimes I actually say things that are not pointless, and this might be one of those times.

I want to thank everybody who magically found the first chapter of this story waaaay back when and stuck with it all the way until now, and of course I want to thank everybody who started reading later in the game. You guys are all amazing and wonderful and I probably wouldn't have kept writing this story if it hadn't been for you guys and your encouragement and, yes, compliments (as I am, in fact, human, and compliments feed my ego and make me believe that I can actually do things like this). Thanks SO MUCH!!

Now, as to an epilogue. There WILL be one. Except...it isn't in this story. It will be included in my next story, which is called...er, well, Fortunately, I think. It will be a scene, and it won't be completely random because the main character is Polly's cousin. Yay! How exciting!

If any of you guys think you're going to miss me and my crazy ramblings and er...yeah, I have a livejournal account! (and I would greatly appreciate help with it as I'm rather technologically challenged...) my username is mannakins14 and all I ask is that you inform me beforehand that you're going to be adding me as a friend or...whatever (I, uh, am not sure how it works yet...) because otherwise there is a very strong chance that I'll think you're a creepy pedophile who is living in the caverns of Alcatraz and has somehow managed to get internet and...NEVER MIND, I'm just very paranoid.

Once again, THANK YOU! Even if it sounds like a cheesy Hallmark card, I seriously couldn't have gotten through this thing without you guys.

Phoenix