He had been staring at the ceiling for over five hours and his mind had yet to take a detour from thinking about his girlfriend. Instead, he had their fight playing over and over again in his mind, cringing and regretting the words he said to her. His heart broke each time he pictured the look of hurt in her eyes.
He sighed, frustrated now more than ever with himself. Rolling over onto his side, he reached over to his side table to get his cell phone. Flipping it open, he dialed a number he knew by heart.
She picked up after the first ring.
"Let me guess what you want to talk about," his best friend of more than ten years said. He could imagine her shaking her head. "The girlfriend."
"We had a fight," he told his friend.
"I know," she said. "Why else would you be calling?"
He smiled a little. Their conversation was always so typical, but it was having talks like these that always helped him.
"It wasn't your fault," she continued. "It was hers."
He shook his head. Already the guilt was doubling twofold within him. "No it wasn't. It was mine. I was rash, saying things I didn't mean. We just haven't seen each other in a while and it seemed like we were growing apart. And I was upset." They were both entering their last year in different colleges, and work was swamping both of them. Only on certain weekends would they see each other, but lately all their contact had been through short e-mails and five minute phone calls. So when they were finally going home for winter vacation, they met up and ended up fighting.
"Look, I know how she's like," his friend said. "She pushes you away during the most crucial times. And it's her fault you guys haven't been talking. She's always busy, neglectful, and selfish. She should make more of an effort."
"And what about me? Like I don't have to make any effort to talk to her," he fired back. "I forget to call. Then when we do talk, I'm always doing something and not concentrating on her like I should."
She sighed, frustrated with her best friend for being so foolish and kind. He was such a sweetheart, the perfect guy girls would dream of… And he got stuck with an idiot of a girlfriend.
"How is it that you two ended up together again?" She quietly asked, though she knew the answer already. After all she was there through it all.
"Senior year of high school," he recalled, the memory making him smile. "It was her birthday and she was crying about how her best friend had forgotten her birthday. I appeared, comforted her, and then we kissed."
"And despite all the awkwardness and trying to deny what was there, you two ended up together happily ever after," she finished for him. There was a hint of sadness in her voice. "Or so it seemed."
Still, even after three years, the feelings he had for his girlfriend was still growing strong. They only ever had three big fights, well now four including the one they had today. Always though, after the fight he would find himself seeking the comfort of his best friend.
"Should I say sorry?" He asked.
"No," she cried over the phone. "Why would you do that? The girlfriend should apologize first."
"No, stop giving in. It's her fault. Trust me."
There was a moment of silence on both ends of the conversation. Then he said, "I hate it when we end up fighting."
"I know. She does too I'm sure." There was a pause before she continued. "Why is it that you love her?"
This question again. It was the same question she asked him back in senior year. She would always ask him the same question every year, always when he called her to talk about the fight he just had with his girlfriend. Always, his answer would be the same.
"I love her because she's beautiful, despite her denials about the fact. I love her because she knows me in and out. I love her for her kindness, her intelligence, her humor, her lame insults and her even lamer jokes. I love her because the very thought of not loving her makes me sick. I love her because after each fight, all I want to do is say sorry a hundred times to her and run to her and hold her again. I love her because I just do."
His answer was always long and exaggerated and filled with all the cheesy lines found in those cliché movies. But they came from his heart, and his love dripped from every word.
As his best friend, she knew he was telling the truth. Yet, she couldn't help but feel like his girlfriend didn't deserve his love. He was just too good for her.
Of course, she would always tell him, and he would always respond with, "That's stupid. She's too good for me."
And always, she wouldn't be able to say anything else to change his mind.
"You're stupid for believing that," she muttered over the phone. On the other end, she heard some rustling. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing, just picking something up." What he was picking up was his car keys, but he didn't tell her that. He knew what she would say. Instead, he continued the conversation as if nothing was going on. Grabbing a jacket, he quickly left his house and headed for the car.
"For once you should put yourself first," his friend continued, not noticing anything.
"Uh huh," he muttered. When the engine of his car started, he did his best to cover up the sound. But his friend was too busy listing the ways of how he was better than his girlfriend to notice the noise. As he backed out of his driveway and began roaming the streets, she was still rambling.
"You're too considerate, too kind, too sweet, too smart, and too funny for her," she listed. "You're also too cute. Did I tell you how you could do so much better than her?"
He laughed a little bit. "Yeah, I think you told me that already. Again, you're wrong."
Their conversation went back and forth for a few more minutes of insisting who was the one in the wrong. By then, he emerged onto a familiar street and began to slow down. After a minute, he drove off to the side and parked a few feet away from a house he knew so well. With his engine off, he stayed in his car, listening to his friend talk while being immersed in darkness. His eyes intently stayed on the house before him.
"What are you doing now?" He asked his friend. There was some rustling over the cell, and something that sounded like jingling of sorts.
"Nothing, just looking through old pictures of us," she said. "God we were such nerds when we were kids."
"Yeah we were."
There was silence, then, "What about you? What are you doing?"
The moment she asked that, the person he was waiting for finally appeared. His girlfriend.
She was standing before the window in front of a fireplace. At an angle, he saw how she was talking on the phone. If he didn't know any better he would say that perhaps to complain about the crappy boyfriend she had. But he knew she wasn't doing that.
He let out a low whistle, knowing that his answer would not make his friend happy.
"Well, I'm outside my girlfriend's house."
"What! Why? I told you not to cave!" Her shouts were so loud he had to pull his cell away from his ear. By now, his girlfriend turned around and looked out the window, her eyes widening as she realized he was right outside in his car, waiting for her to notice.
"What can I say?" He said to his best friend. "I love her too much to not say sorry first." And with that he closed his cell phone and threw it to the backseat of his car. Then he held his girlfriend's stare for a few seconds before exiting his car and heading towards her door.
As he walked up her front steps, through the window he saw her turn off her own phone and slowly approached the door. He waited for her to open the door, not bothering to ring the bell. By now, this being their fourth fight, it had become a routine for them.
The door slowly opened and there she was standing in a sweater and jeans, her hair down and tucked behind her ears. She looked beautiful but the sad, shameful look she had made him ache. He wanted to make her smile.
Before she could say anything, he spoke first.
"I couldn't wait anymore."
There was silence, and he felt vulnerable standing before the woman he loved, not knowing exactly what she would say. Her eyes shined, and he could see she was doing her best not to cry.
"You're an idiot," she whispered, a small smile reluctantly forming. "I think your best friend told you to not give in first."
He shrugged, grinning. "Guess I was too impatient."
She laughed a little.
"Too bad. I was just about ready to head over to your house." She lifted her car keys and showed it to him as proof.
Not wanting to waste another second with a huge space between them, he stepped forward and took her into his arms. After kissing the top of her head, he said, "It was my fault. For a moment I lost sight of what was really important and I am so sorry. It will never happen again."
She shook her head, her arms tightening around him.
"I was the one being selfish," she said. "I was pushing you away for the hundredth time. It's just I get these huge brain farts and I can't stop thinking how you could do so much better."
He closed the space between them, taking her into his arms and holding onto her tightly. He whispered into his ear, "That will never happen. I love you."
"I love you too," she whispered back. The two of them stood there, holding on to each other.
A moment later he pulled back, and placed his forehead against hers.
Looking into her eyes, he said, "Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am."
"And why is that?" She asked him.
"Every time we have a fight, I always need to talk to my best friend about it," he told her. "She's the one I run to when I need help with a problem or when I need to vent and she is the first one I ask for advice when it comes to girls. She's the first one I have to tell when something good happens to me and the first person I tell when something bad happens. I'm just so glad that I'm still able to do this now that my best friend just isn't my best friend anymore."
"Yeah well you got a great best friend," she said as her hands began to encircle around his neck. "Every time I want to call my best friend to talk about you, he always wants to talk about his problems with his girlfriend instead. I mean, really, how bad of a friend is that?"
Their joking was silly and they knew it, but it didn't matter. Looking into her eyes, he felt just how lucky he was.
"Thank god for you," he whispered, and then he leaned in to kiss the girl who meant everything to him as his best friend…
And the love of his life.
I know, I have been MIA for so long and have yet to update any of my major works. I've been meaning to load some other one shots, but I'm not satisfied with them. Those one-shots I have been agonzing over for months now and I'm still not done.
As for this story, I hope you guys enjoyed it. Again, it's super simple, not much details, but basically it's the idea of why it's good to have a best friend as your boyfriend/girlfriend. Just wondering, did you guys know right away they were a couple already? Or did it take the end for you to realize that his best friend was the girlfriend all along? Or was it just confusing and you have no idea what I wrote. This was written super quick and I haven't had a chance to comb over it. I'm just glad I was able to crank out something.
Please visit my blog or profile to read about the inspiration for this fic or for any other updates/info. Thanks!