FicWad

We were now almost three weeks into rehearsals, and everything was coming along rather nicely. I’d been hanging out with Zeke and Lindsay a lot, along with Gerard and Evie, and I don’t know if it was Evie’s pathetic attempts at matchmaking or my own self-absorbed delusions, but it kind of seemed like Zeke was . . . Into me.

“Bye,” he said one evening, then caught me in his arms.

That might possibly have been the longest hug of my life, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to complain. Despite the fact that we’d been at this place for about five hours, he still smelled fresh, like he’d just gotten out of the shower, and . . .

My face was starting to burn.

“Hey,” Lindsay said, going over to Gerard and wrapping her arms around his neck. “So you don’t feel left out.”

He’d been staring at Zeke and me.

My face burned hotter.

Gerard hugged her back, mechanically.

“Are we hugging?” Evie said, appearing from somewhere. “I like hugs!”

I wriggled away from Zeke and went to hug her.

“It’s working!” she whispered enthusiastically in my ear.

“Shut it,” I said, pulling away and hitting her on the back of her head.

“Thank me later, Stevenson.”

“Whatever.” I was going to say “don’t count on it,” but then I realized that I might actually need to thank her.

Oh, shit. My face was going to combust any second now.

“See you guys tomorrow,” I said, heading for the exit as quickly as I could. Gerard mumbled a goodbye and soon caught up with me.

We got in the car, buckled in, and started driving in silence.

“Am I insane?” I asked when we were at a stoplight.

Gerard looked over and laughed. “Probably.”

“No, I’m serious . . .” My voice trailed off. “You know Evie’s, um, trying to set me up with Zeke, right?”

Gerard’s face froze. “Yeah, I guess.”

I chewed my lips nervously. “I think it’s working.”

He turned away to stare at the light. “You like him?”

“I don’t know!” I added wringing my hands into the mix. “I mean, he’s hot and all . . . But . . . Yeah. I don’t know.”

He made a weird noise in his throat.

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He didn’t bat an eyelash as he continued to stare at the light.

“I don’t know. It’s just . . . I keep noticing that you act really weird every time you see Zeke or someone mentions him.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“I do not, damn it!”

“Whatever you say.” I turned to stare out the window.

The light turned green and he resumed driving to the next red stoplight, and the next and the next . . .

Why were all these lights red, damn it?

I noticed he turned right at White Rose Parkway instead of left.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“Hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Thirsty?”

“I guess I could go for some iced tea or something.”

“How about we stop in there?” He jerked his chin at a little 50’s diner up ahead.

“I don’t care.”

He pulled into their parking lot and parked, and we went inside.

“Two?” said the hostess, a tiny, mousy little woman in a yellow uniform with roller skates.

Gerard nodded, and she told us we could sit anywhere we wanted. Gerard picked a booth close to the back, by the windows facing the street.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she said.

“Iced tea,” I said.

“Coke,” Gerard said.

She scribbled that down on an order pad and skated away.

Gerard dumped the box holding the sugar packets onto the table and started making a kind of mosaic design out of them. “Alixz?” he said finally.

“Yeah,” I said, turning my attention from his paper-packet design to him. “What?”

“You’re my best friend, right?”

I glanced out the window, as though someone out there would know why he was asking such a ridiculous question. “Of course.”

“So . . . I should be able to tell you shit, right?”

“It would seem that way.”

Gerard looked up, eyes flickering, and shoved the sugar packets aside. “I’m being serious.”

I searched his face for signs of amusement. There were none, and his demeanor radiated seriousness. “Sorry . . . It’s just . . . You’ve been acting like such a dick these days, I---”

His face turned to stone. “Never mind.” He resumed playing with the sugar packets, this time stacking them into neat little rows by color.

I mentally kicked myself for my stupidity. He was going to tell me something, and now . . . “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. What is it?”

“What is what?”

“You were going to tell me something.”

“I said never mind, Alixz.”

“I said I was sorry, okay? Now, come on. You know you can tell me, whatever it is.”

He stopped.

“I promise not to laugh,” I added by way of cajoling him further.

He sighed.

I twisted my fingers together.

“Never mind.”

“Gerard.”

“Will you stop?”

“I said I was sorry, damn it. Now what were you going to tell me?”

I couldn’t help myself. I was frustrated.

“Damn it, Alixzandra!” he shouted, loud enough to make the other few patrons in the place look over at us.

I froze. I couldn’t remember him calling me Alixzandra before, ever. My grandmother is the only one who calls me that.

We stared at each other.

His eyes flickered a few times, like a candle when it’s struggling to stay lit, and then he suddenly slumped forward, like it was too much effort to hold himself upright anymore.

“Alixz . . .”

He sounded so sad, so desperate . . . I actually got a little choked up.

“Alixz . . .”

“What?” I whispered.

And then it hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks.

He was going to tell me he liked me. This was why he’d been acting like this all this time. He was jealous of Zeke.

That had to be it, it had to.

And he needed confirmation that I wasn’t going to laugh in his face once he admitted it, that I’d still be his best friend.

He looked like he was about to cry.

And I felt like I was going to cry, too.

This was Gerard we were talking about. He was my best friend in the entire world and I was about to break his heart.

Part of me wanted to get up and run home as fast as possible and forget that this had ever happened. The rest of me wanted to stay ---had to--- and put an end to this nonsense.

If only that waitress would come back with our drinks.