a/n: Yes, apparently I managed to squeeze out another plot from my messy brain. Although it shares the same as my other stuff, this is going to be sort of an evolution of my usual genre, as the setting will be post-college/post-university. This is sort of a take-off/based from one of my poems, The Lighthouse. And will probably be told mostly in the guy's point of view (I'm not sure yet), so it'll be a little different, a little experimental. Fortunately, I'm planning this story to be short and sweet (unlike my melodrama sagas). Needless to say, it just has to be told. But I hope you guys will like it anyway. So thanks for reading, let me know what you think by leaving a review if you've got the time, and enjoy! Ciao...

Prologue
Ten years ago…

“Well?”

Marga chewed on her nails in deep thought, her gaze trained on a particular pair on the dance floor, wrapped in each others’ arms, dancing to the slow song, seeming unaware of anything else that was going on around them in the dimly lit ballroom.

Not Mrs. Tilde breaking apart this couple horrendously making out behind the pillars. Not Louis and Andrew Baker, the school’s twin pranksters, slipping tiny amounts of liquid dye into the night’s last batch of punch. Not the requisite lousy band the organizers had managed to scavenge for the senior batch’s big Prom night playing stupid 80’s movie themes.

Two of DSV High’s most popular people: Janice Whitman and Josh McCabe, the head cheerleader and the tri-state basketball league’s most valuable player—the world’s answer to the Most Predictable Couple of the Year Award.

“Marga,” Elise prompted again, more pointedly than before, from her seat beside Marga at one of the sideline tables. “Come on. You’re not gonna talk to him? You’re not going to do anything??”

Marga glanced back at her friend with a resolve. “Elise,” she started as-a-matter-of-factly, “the only chance I had with Josh I lost the day I was born.”

“Oh, for god’s sakes, just pleasedo something,” Elise groaned out loud. “I’ve had to listen to this I-will-and-I-almost-did shit since 8th grade. Don’t make me put up with it another year. “Come on,” she shrugged in rationalization, “you’re probably never going to see him again after graduation anyway.”

“Exactly! So what’s the point?” Marga pointed out.

“Get it off your chest, at least!” Elise said knowledgeably. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh, oh,” Marga let out a short laugh. “I can think of a few things.”

Elise shook her head. “You’re such a chicken.”

Marga rolled her eyes. “Oh please,” she groaned. “Look, I just can’t do it. And I won’t do it. It is a pointless endeavor and I’d rather not participate. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to go ‘wait, I just realized my girlfriend of three years is an ugly witch. Maybe I’ll see what the bottom-feeders have to offer’,” she mimicked a comical tone before returning to her no-nonsensical one.

Elise shot her a look of ridicule. “I didn’t say you should ask him to marry you. I was just suggesting that you at least go and talk to him face to face for once. Trust me, it’ll save you the years of therapy you’ll need like ten years from now. Like some kind of unresolved psychological childhood issue of how you can’t confront your fears or actively go for what you want or some shit like that,” she kidded.

Marga sighed, glancing back at the dance floor again, in time to see the couple leaving to take a break from dancing. Janice broke apart from Josh to head for the bathroom, possibly for her ten o’clock nose powdering, which left Josh standing near the refreshments table.

“There’s your big chance,” Elise nudged her. “He’s alone.”

Marga took a huge, deep breath, her nerves already frayed, as she managed to stand. Five years. Five years of playing hide-and-duck in the halls, sneaking peeks from the Science lab, and staring at the back of his neck whenever he walked ahead of her—she had that profile down pat.

She knew he knew who she was, because everyone did. She was the girl who kept track of Science lab materials and griped when you lost your borrower’s slip. And she had already talked to him once before, Marga reminded herself. Well, technically, he asked her for a light—not that she had one, but that qualified as talking.

Now she just had to talk to him. It was easy. It’s conversation—stringing words together to form sentences. You didn’t take up Advanced English and Grammar electives for nothing…It’s easy, Marga convinced herself, as she walked the seemingly far distance from their table to the refreshments table where Josh was.

Marga stopped about two feet away, close enough to stare at the familiar sight of the back of his neck again, just above the collar of his tux. She was starting to breathe heavily. She knew she must look like a total freak, but she was going to do it. She was finally going to do it. Just do it, she braced herself. You can do it, Marga. You can do it.

--

Present Day
(Ten years later…)

“Yes?” Josh stopped short upon opening the door, when the person standing at the porch turned around.

Her smile was what hit him first. Not because there was anything bad about it. The thing was she had one of those genuine smiles, the kind that you couldn’t ever fake even if you wanted to—it was real. Meant. As though she was really incredibly happy to see him—which was strange since Josh didn’t think he’d ever seen her before in his life.

“Hi,” she greeted.

Josh blinked at her blankly. “Uh…hi,” he replied then narrowed his eyes at her. “Do I…know you?” He gave her another once over. She was dressed in simple blue jeans, a cropped top, and flat sandals, but there was something about the overall look that almost screamed ‘class’ and ‘elegance’. Something his girlfriend Janice would probably have termed ‘glamorous’.

The girl’s smile waned a little and she moved to prop the designer sunglasses she was wearing up onto her head the way a headband was worn to push back her slightly wavy reddish blonde hair, before she met his gaze again. He blinked, as for some reason now, he felt she did look vaguely familiar. That is, before—without warning—she leaned up towards him and the next thing Josh knew, she’d caught his lips with hers.

His eyes widened in shock, but other than bracing his hand on one side of the door frame so he wouldn’t lose his balance when she pulled him towards her, he moved not an inch. His mind was reeling, thinking maybe it was some sort of practical joke or felt like he’d won a prize he didn’t know from a game he didn’t join. But when she seemed to start to break off, his forehead creased at the sudden constriction in his chest, and he felt himself lean into her again—to kiss her back.

Her lips were soft and warm—and sweet—and instinctively he touched her cheek and pulled her closer against him, closing his eyes. The long kiss felt like a lifetime before Josh was able to pull himself back down to earth. What the hell was he doing? His brother was in the living room. His girlfriend could come by at any time. And here he was making out with a complete stranger at his front door, in plain sight to all the neighbors.

“Whoa—,” Josh blinked quickly as he stopped short, backing away from her, back into the doorway, almost well into the house. He blinked again to check if he wasn’t just seeing things, or having extraordinarily strange daydreams. No. She was still there. She now stood at his front door, her cheeks flushed, looking slightly wide-eyed as if she hadn’t expected what had just happened to happen.

Then she smiled again. This time her smile had a hint of relief and embarrassment, but she seemed to have regained her confidence now that she’d gotten that over with. “I’m sorry about that,” she apologized airily. “But uh…thanks,” she bade shortly.

Josh stared at her, baffled, his forehead still creased. That was it?? He couldn’t believe it. She turned to leave, taking the steps off their porch lightly, to head back to her car parked at the curb. Josh blinked again, hard, before he found his voice. “Hey! Wait!” he called. “Who are you??” he threw up his hands in confusion as he watched her efficiently hop into the car and zoom off all in under five seconds.

He watched the taillights of the car disappear around the corner, standing in the middle of the path, his hands on his hips. He shook his head to himself in bewilderment. What the hell—??!

“You left the door open, loser!” his younger brother, Jimmy, called out from the porch, watching him strangely, “What are you doing there?”

Josh felt like pinching himself. Did what just happen just happen?? He was still shaking his head to himself in bafflement as he walked back into the house.

“So what did the hot girl want with you?” Jimmy asked, giving him a mischievous look. He had answered the door earlier before calling for his brother. “I’m telling Janice,” he threatened with an evil grin.

Josh shot him a dark look. “Shut up, booger.” He shooed him into the house before he walked in himself, glancing back over his shoulder one last time, still at a loss, before closing the door behind him.

--o-o-o--