Disclaimer: This story, though transcribed from Kin's narration by me, is nevertheless using characters etc. owned by mithmaulin. Be nice.
A/N: And this is it, folks! The conclosiologue! It's been an awesome ride, and I've had a heck of a lot of fun. Hope everyone enjoyed. :: blows kisses ::
In summation, it has been proven that despite whatever self-control the subjects assumed they possessed, in the end it was not enough to keep the relationship a secret. Moreover, despite the general population's assumption that the subjects were incapable of establishing a romantic attachment, this disbelief was not enough to overcome substantial evidence. Repercussions are still forthcoming; negative consequences have been minor and, so far, dealt with. Hypothesis disproved; maybe I should start creating Experiments in which I don't secretly want the hypothesis to fail.
Phase the Third ended at that performance, and though Mic gave me a hard time about not letting him know until I did, I think he was just as relieved as I was. All stages of hiding were complete and unnecessary now — not that I planned on prancing down the halls with Mic in my arms and rainbow flags stuck all over my clothes, but whatever.
I'd been just a touch nervous about the school's reaction once word spread from the musical-goers, but really, it wasn't that bad. It helps that Prize is a fairly liberal community to begin with, but also, we only had a few weeks left of school. If anyone DID have a problem with us, there wasn't enough time to orchestrate anything worthwhile.
We didn't, really, give people too much to talk about. Micah was still Micah despite my dramatic finale to the Experiment; he still squirmed whenever I put my hand anywhere but on his (the reason for this — well, that's another story, heh), so most of our public displays were reduced to hand-holding. But as someone who'd spent most of his teenaged existence convinced that no one would ever find him attractive or want to date him, I was thrilled enough about that.
I dropped Mic off at his Lit 12 class about a week after the Les Mis final; he was excited for his exam, nerd that he is, and of course was attending the last class even when most everyone else had skipped. "It's the principle of the thing, Kin," Mic said, standing beside the door, but he still hadn't released my hand. We were horribly sappy about that sort of thing. "Besides, aren't you up for the Perfect Attendance award this year?"
"Shut up," I said, and kissed him. I didn't mean to do it on purpose, I swear — it's just that, by that point, kissing Mic was the usual way of silencing him when he was teasing me, and I forgot where we were.
Surprisingly, Mic didn't freak out, though I realized what I'd done pretty quickly and pulled away. Mic just shoved my chest, smirked, and slipped in through the half-open classroom door, leaving me staring after him.
There was a kid stopped in the hall when I finally regained motor control and turned around, and he was giving me a curious look. "You some kind of fag or something?" he asked conversationally, head cocked to one side.
Normally I would have made a smart remark about his observational skills, or tried to convince him that I was actually a very tall, flat-chested girl, but I wasn't in the mood this time. "Guess so," I said, hefting my textbook more securely in the crook of my arm.
The kid — I think he was a junior, but we all know how familiar I am with the social circle of DCS — just grinned. "Cool," he said, then sauntered off to class.
I actually stood there at the doorway to Mic's Lit class long after the bell had rung, peering through the tiny, scratchy window in the door at Mic's blond-orange head as it bent over his notebook, and I had to run. When the teacher asked why I was late, I was so flustered that I couldn't come up with anything coherent; she just shook her head at me and motioned me back to my seat.
When school ended, Mic was waiting for me at my locker, and this time, I was the one surprised when he greeted me with a small wave and a kiss on the cheek. Mic just laughed at my stare, blushed, ducked his head, and caught my fingers with his. We met up with Katherine, Sharon, and Josh on the way to the bus stop and we talked and joked about nothing in particular and planned to meet up at Sharon's that weekend for a movie marathon and to discuss whether or not it would be worth re-opening Josh's Tolkien RPG before we all moved away to University.
I rode with Mic to his house, and when we reached his door, he pulled me into the alcove and drew me in for a long, slow kiss. This is the point where words fail me, because I can't think of an adequate phrase to describe how it feels to be with Mic. It's just . . . it's like getting all the seasons of X-Files on DVD for free AND acing all my exams AND getting a top scholarship at UPri all at once, and that doesn't even top it.
Anyway. My conclusion? It really doesn't matter how many people know or who approves or disapproves or what we do in public or how comfortable either of us is with affection or whatever. I've got my Micah, and he has me.
Mic insists that I leave off with a Les Mis quote, because this Experiment wasn't geeky enough already, so I turn the final words over to him:
Okay, so I changed the gender. Sue me.
In my life, he has burst like the music of angels
The light of the sun
And my life seems to stop
As if something is over and some thing has scarcely begun . . .
Corny and cheesy as all hell, yes, but I think I'm going to need surgery to get Marius out of my brain now.
Okay, so Kin may be a jackass and I may be just as much of a bastard when I want to be and we BOTH may be completely inept when it comes to relationships and social mores (hah, yeah, probably no 'may be' on that last one), but we managed to get it together when it really counted, and I really don't care about anything else.
I always thought I was too scared and too shy and too nerdy and too invisible for any of this to happen to me, but it did. And if it took a couple absolutely ridiculous Experiments to prove me wrong, well, so be it. I finally got a boyfriend who's an even bigger dork than I am. (I'm kidding, don't worry. Well. Sort of kidding. Kin IS dorkier than I am but that's part of his charm, so I don't think it coun— woo. Side tracking.)
Oh, and Kin? You owe me five dollars, remember, since you refused to pretend to ask Cosette on a date after you lost to me at MarioKart. If you don't give it to me by tomorrow, I'm confiscating your notes and selling them to Sharon
What? No! Augh, Mic, give them back! You can't — get back here!