


Would You Mind

by StoriesThatNeverWere



Category: Zoey 101
Genre: Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2008-10-06
Updated: 2008-12-02
Packaged: 2013-07-08 16:51:55
Rating: K+
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,065
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4579775/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1037029/StoriesThatNeverWere
Summary: Post-Chasing Zoey. How vague the inquiry “would you mind” is. In her final year at PCA, Zoey becomes consumed by how her answer to this question keeps changing.





	1. Part 1

**Open Minded**

With each day we were together, it felt more and more right to relax into his embrace. To return the pressure of his kiss, and to squeeze his hand whenever he said something cute. As months passed, months after the Haven of Hawaii was behind us, I felt so strongly about him I swear I never before knew what love was. But he had always known. And it took me four years to realize how sweet the feeling was, and how much I wanted to cling to its presence.

With hours, minutes and seconds a blur, all simply existing to make me happy, I spared no second thought that October afternoon when Lola entered the dorm room and asked, "Is it okay if I skip going out with you and Quinn tonight? Chase said he'd be able to help me with my sea-life project, now that he's an _expert_ on marine animals. Honestly, one trip to Maui and suddenly that boy thinks he knows everything about the ocean."

I chuckled freely. "Yeah, well, don't deflate his ego too much. He may have his head up in the clouds, but I'm on Cloud Nine and the commute is easy."

"So you don't mind?"

"No, not at all."

And I meant it.

**Keep in Mind**

"Happy Halfiversary!"

I watched Chase's cheeks dance around his mouth as he laughed, "Happy what?"

"Halfiversary! Our half-year anniversary!"

"Wow. Does Hallmark sell cards for those?"

I gave an exaggerated sigh. "No, they don't, but they should. Anyway, so tonight I thought we could grab a bite at Sushi Rox and then head down to the-"

"Oh! Zo, I'm sorry. I can't tonight."

His lips curled into an apologetic half-smile, one which I had seen too many times in the past.

"Didn't Lola tell you we were going to the theatre this evening?"

I blinked, and then blushed when I faintly remembered the previous night- Lola had been babbling about a talent agent inviting her to see a production at a local playhouse, where she suggested Lola could get a taste for theatre, even on a smaller scale. The woman recommended Lola bring a date, and since Vince had a game the next day he couldn't risk being tired for, she had decided to ask someone else.

"Oh. Right. Well, couldn't she take Michael or Logan?"

"Michael has a math final to prepare for, and Logan… well, could you imagine _him_ at a play?"

I tried to picture the scenario for a moment and shuddered. I saw Logan boasting on and on about how much better an actor he was than the actual performers. No, that wouldn't do. Lola would never become a famous actress if she were charged with the murder of a director's son.

"Well, isn't there anyone else?"

Chase shook his head, resting his hand on my shoulder. "Look, the play's writer is Matthew Larson. He's a friend of my dad's, and a totally awesome writer. I was hoping to meet up with him and have a chat. You know I've been looking into script-writing this year, and he said he'd be more than happy to give me advice."

"You talked to him?"

"Yeah. When Lola showed me the program for the play I saw his name and gave him a call. So, he's actually expecting me."

I nodded, but couldn't hold back my disappointed frown. "Okay. Well, uh, I suppose we could celebrate tomorrow?"

Those two beautiful eyes, the ones I can never get enough of, bore back at me. "The last thing I want is for you to be upset…"

"No! No," I replied too quickly, "You and Lola both want to go. And we'll be able to get together tomorrow… so you two go and have fun."

Chase leaned forward to briefly brush my lips with his. He tasted of stale Blix and sweat. "You sure?" He tentatively brushed hair from my face.

"Of course. I don't mind. Really."

And I almost meant that.

**Never Mind**

With the first semester almost over, I decided to adopt a new activity to replace basketball. President of the school newspaper wasn't what I had in mind. But since Kelsey Martin, the residing president for two years, moved to Texas, there was an opening available and my career counselor noted how good working on the school newspaper looked to colleges. This was all the encouragement I needed to sign up.

Unfortunately, I had not considered the incredible responsibility of being in charge. My first few weeks were spent getting used to the way the paper was run (and convincing the staff I would be just as good as Kelsey, as many seemed to doubt). The newspaper and PCA newsroom worked together, so I spent every Tuesday and Sunday afternoon with Jeremiah Trotman, working out headlines and reports for the upcoming issue. He was furious whenever I asked to reschedule, and mumbled how I wasn't "dedicated to the cause". Needless to say my frustration peaked when I learned Rebecca Browning, a girl whom in the previous year had attempted to blackmail me, was the writer behind the newspaper's most popular column, "Dating Do's and Don'ts."

Thank goodness she was there to give the staff more reasons to hate my guts.

Fortunately I had Quinn and Lola, who were behind my efforts one hundred and ten percent. Lola volunteered to take over some of the workload, while Quinn offered to give Rebecca a serum that would make her go bald. While both offers were very tempting, I was determined to do this on my own. I would gain the trust of my staff yet, even if it meant working longer hours.

As it turned out, that's exactly what it meant. During the start of the year Chase and I had been able to go out almost every night. But working with the newspaper spared me less leisure time, and we were barely making a date a week now. And unfortunately, this included cancelling the evening's movie plans. There was just no way I could organize tomorrow's issue by midnight unless I started right away.

"Lola!" I called as she was walking passed the dorm room. I pushed up to my knees, avoiding crushing the clippings and papers around me. "Can you do me a favor?"

She beamed instantly. "That depends. Who is it you want me to kill?"

"Nobody. I got swamped by the staff again, because apparently they are incapable of arranging their reports chronologically…" I took a deep breath and swallowed my anger. "Chase is probably waiting for me in the lounge. Could you go apologize to him and tell him I can't make the film tonight?"

"Sure, Zo." Her smile was that of sympathy. "You know, it's really awesome how dedicated you are to this. And whether the guys at newspaper say so or not, everyone knows the paper has never been better. Even the teachers have been saying so."

Despite anger curdling under my skin, hearing her comforting words did cool my insides a bit. "Let's hope so."

Turning to leave me to work, Lola suddenly snapped her fingers. "Hey…" she seemed to stop, and after a moment waved her wrist lazily, "Never mind."

"What is it?" I asked, even though my focus had already returned to the papers in front of me.

"Nothing. I just thought maybe I could go to the movie with Chase."

"What's wrong with that?"

"You wouldn't mind me going to a movie… alone with your boyfriend?"

I scoffed. "Of course not. I know you two are just friends."

I heard her sandals shuffle against the carpet. "Still, I wouldn't feel right about it. Besides, I offered to help Stacey with her Home Ec project. How she could think everyone put sassafras in their chocolate chip cookies makes me seriously doubt her mom's cooking abilities …"

I would have laughed if I had not been dawdling on her previous remark. I looked up in time to watch her leave, feeling suddenly bewildered and unsure why.

**Don't Mind if I Do**

"Come on, Zoey. This is the Winter Ball! Every couple at PCA goes to this event… well, except for the geeks…"

"Hey!" Quinn chirped, popping her head out of the closet to protest. "Geeks are people too, thank you. And we dance better than most of you anyway!" She returned her attention to two dresses, feeling the material of both to determine which to wear.

"I can't! Mr. Brenner said that if I complete this project by Monday, I can bump my B+ in Physics to an A. This is really important." And so came my rebuttal, making me feel like a broken record. There was always work to do, and lately there wasn't a moment I didn't pray for an end in sight. "Besides, you aren't getting ready either."

When it came time for a dance, Lola usually spent the entire day preparing her outfit and makeup design. But tonight she remained lying on the top bunk, seeming to gradually lose interest in the _Buzz_ article she was reading.

"It's no fun to go to dances by yourself," she remarked quietly.

I pealed my gaze from the computer screen to glance at Lola. She didn't look well, her skin a bit too pale, and the locks of her hair straying from their normal position aligning her shoulders. She had been miserable since Monday, when Vince told her he needed "a break" from their relationship. The horrid _break_, which is eventually followed by the dreaded _up_. Quinn and I tried to comfort her the best we knew how (with chick flicks, chocolate and internet shopping) but Lola was in a content slump.

"I'm sure there are some people going without dates. And it's not too late to get someone."

Lola rolled her eyes, falling back on her pillow. "What decent guy would be available on the night of the dance?" She started a staring contest with the ceiling, "Besides, I don't want a new boyfriend right now."

"So take someone as a friend," Quinn offered thoughtfully, slipping a sleek purple dress off its hanger.

"Like wh-"

"Knock, knock."

In the doorway stood two well-dressed boys, the bushy-haired one in a proper black tuxedo, and the other in a brown, more casual suit. Behind them a smiling pair, fingers entwined, waved with their free hands. "Hey girls."

"Wow, you look fantastic." Quinn's remark had been intended for the whole group, although she was looking to her boyfriend as she said it.

"And you look great too!"

Quinn frowned. "I'm not dressed yet, Logan." She held up the purple dress and shook it.

"Oh… right." He gave a sheepish grin, one which Quinn repeatedly admitted made her insides melt. Immediately her face softened into a smile.

Chase joined my side, kissing my cheek before sitting on the bed. "So there's no chance I can convince you to come to the dance tonight?"

I shook my head, not able to think of anything more to say except "I'm sorry".

"That's alright," Chase said in a happier tone than I would have expected. He hopped to his feet and marched across the room. "That means I will get to take this_ lovely lady _instead," he declared as he held out his arm. "Mademoiselle Martinez, if you would."

The gesture Lola made reminded me of a frightened lion tamer. "Oh, no I'm not going!" And without delay the boys erupted into an uproar of objections.

"Lola," Lisa, detaching herself from Michael, approached the bunk beds and rested her head against the top mattress. "You can't leave Quinn and me to watch over these guys alone- we'll be outnumbered!"

Michael interjected, "Yeah! And if Vince was stupid enough to break it off with you, you deserve to go to this dance looking hotter than ever and showing him what he missed out on!" Five sets of eyebrows raised at once, each aimed at Michael. Realizing how he sounded, he tried explaining himself, "What? That's what I would do if I was a girl!" and failed.

Lola turned away, I assumed as a way to avoid eye contact with the rest of the group. "It's not a good idea."

"Lola, I'm insulted." Chase feigned offense. "Do you deem me so poor a dancer you will not honor me with your presence?"

"You know it's not like that…" she started, but made no effort to finish.

"Hey." Chase lowered his voice, stepping forward to place his hand lightly on Lola's. I watched him tilt his head and lick his lips, a habit he adopted while trying to find the right words to say. "Why don't we just go hang out for a bit? If you get tired or I step on your toes too many times, we can leave. But I couldn't have a good time if I knew you were wasting away such a great night…" His gentle smile lingered momentarily before turning boyish. "Besides, you know how cranky Zoey gets when people are in the room while she's working."

"Hey!" I threw a balled up piece of paper at him, which rewarded me a small smile from Lola.

"And apparently violent too," she added to Chase's observation.

"Yikes, we better get out of here before she throws her laptop at us!" Michael grabbed Lisa's wrist and dragged her out the room, their giggles resounding off the corridor walls as they hurried along.

"Yeah, and we promised Coach Hexler we'd help set up the refreshments table before everyone started arriving," Logan explained as he stepped towards the door. "You ladies meet us at the dance?"

"Sure," Quinn answered cheerfully. "We'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Uh…" Lola glanced over her clothes. "You better make that forty. I look like a wreck!"

Chase laughed. "Are you kidding? You look fantastic. You could go dressed like that," he speculated at her attire of sponge-bob square pants pajamas.

"Yeah, right. Now leave! We have to get ready. Shoo! Shoo!" Lola, suddenly looking better than she had all week, pushed the boys out the door.

I didn't get much work done the next forty-five minutes, with Lola and Quinn flittering about examining their makeup and hair in the mirror every twenty-seven seconds (an observation which I was more than happy to repeatedly point out). The whole while I watched Lola transform from a depressed pumpkin into a lovely, lively Cinderella.

Before leaving for the ball, the princess looked my way, and asked cautiously, "You sure you're okay with this?"

"What, you going out? Only as long as you're back by curfew," I teased playfully.

"No I mean… going to the dance with Chase. You sure you don't mind?"

I furrowed my eyebrows and looked up at her quizzically. "No, I don't mind. Why should I?"

She didn't give me a reason. Which meant I would have to find out for myself.

**Mind Boggling**

Students were still finding paper snowflakes across the campus grounds long after the night of the winter ball. I had spent the weekend sulking, although decided on Tuesday, upon receiving my A from Mr. Brenner, that is was best I hadn't gone to the dance. Lola deserved to go more than I did anyway. She and Quinn returned late that evening, laughing hysterically about something involving Vince, a bowl of punch and a giant toad (whom Quinn later adopted and named Louis).

I hadn't felt this good in ages. Physics was a worry of the past, the newspaper staff was slowly but surely coming to accept me (much to Rebecca's chagrin) and I had my first free afternoon in weeks to go out with my boyfriend. I was so anxious I found myself drawing in class rather than taking notes, and then daydreaming instead of paying attention to the teacher. Chase mentioned last week he received two opening night tickets from Matthew Larson for his latest theatre production. I was never particularly into plays, but felt giddy for tonight's performance.

Chase and I didn't have any joined classes today, so I wasn't sure when we were supposed to leave. I knew he'd come by the dorm when it was time, and thought it best to be ready early. Hours wore on where I primped and perfected the curls in my hair, occasionally tugging on my spaghetti strap dress to keep it from falling too low. Between the long, passing minutes and my equally gradual impatience, I grew fed up with the dress and changed it… three times. I finally settled on a sea green satin dress I was sure would dazzle Chase. And he deserved dazzling, after waiting months for a proper date.

But at 7:04 I had become anxious. For the last hour I'd been dialing Chase's number almost every minute, but kept receiving his voicemail. _He must have forgotten to turn his phone on, _I concurred with exasperation. Chase often forgot to turn his phone on after he charged it. Still, I would have expected him to call by now…

Deciding not to wait any longer, I ventured across campus towards the boys' dorms, along the way receiving dozens of glances, cat calls, whistles, and one marriage proposal. Upon finally reaching Chase's dorm, I discovered Michael lying upside down over the side of his bed, playing with his clackers. Logan, Xbox controller in hand, was intensly focused on a racing game I didn't recognize. It was his downfall when he turned to look at me- he gazed too long and ran his virtual car into a fence. Of course, he then proceeded to blame me for the crash.

"Michael," I ignored the sulking boy, "have you seen Chase? We were supposed to go out tonight, but he hasn't called me and…" I glanced down at my watch, "the play has already started."

Instead of replying, Michael dropped his jaw slightly and shifted his eyes to Logan, who also looked dumbfounded. "Uh, what do you mean? Chase left an hour ago with Lola."

"What?!" So that's what it felt like to have your heart drop into your stomach.

Michael appeared equally as confused. "Yeah. He said you were too busy to go, so he took Lola instead."

My mouth quickly turned dry, and I could only continue to stare as I tried discerning what happened. "I never said I was busy today. Chase told me last week he received two tickets to the theatre…"

"Yeah, but he said you didn't say you could go, so he figured you were working and couldn't make it."

"Why didn't he ask?!"

"Maybe because you get angry whenever anyone ever asks you anything." Logan replied honestly, his voice tinted with arrogance.

A mixture of emotions rushed through me too quickly, and I could barely balance myself as I fell back onto a beanbag chair. I couldn't believe it. Our first date in forever, including a trip out of PCA, a romantic show and dinner, and there was one thing missing- me.

This frustration combined with the pressure of many weeks of work threatened to take me over in tears. I covered my face in embarrassment and fell forward onto my knees. I breathed deeply, attempting to choke back my sadness, because goodness knows I didn't want to cry in front of Michael and Logan. But then I heard two pairs of footsteps clamber away, followed by the sound of a door firmly closing… Sometimes I didn't give those boys enough credit.

A few tears fell, destroying the makeup I had wasted hours on perfecting. I grabbed a wad of tissues and dabbed my face to keep the mascara from running onto my dress. My cheeks felt heavy as they built up with internal pressure, so strong I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping. I sat for many moments, maybe hours, thinking of only where I wasn't and so desperately wanted to be. I felt the energy drain out through my eyes and soon could not will myself to sit up, nonetheless move. Had I been able to, I would have left before they returned.

But I was there when they burst through the door, he wearing that dazzling smile and she with her face distorted into what I imagine was an impersonation of an old lady. I didn't have time to turn away or hide. My emotions lay bare, and for the first time in my life I felt small.

He saw me first. Midway through a second round of laugher he froze, and those beautiful eyes caught sight of me and were relieved of their glee. Not a second passed before Chase left Lola's side and sat crouched in front of me. My tears had long since dried, but I was sure streaks had been inked into my skin, and my eyes were most likely as bloodshot as he had ever seen them. I always hated the fact that I could not cry "pretty" like girls in the movies. That imperfection felt more and more accentuated the longer he looked at me.

"Zoey, what's wrong?"

I inhaled deeply, turning from Chase to try and stand. My legs were still in recovery-mode and wobbled against my weight. I fell back onto the beanbag with a grunt. Before I could try again, I felt a warm weight on my shoulders: his hands. "Zoey, what is it?"

But I couldn't answer him. I didn't even try with fear of what I would say. Thankfully he didn't ask again. Instead he wrapped his arms around me and used his palm to lightly press my head to his shoulder. I subdued, feeling my breathing return to normal the longer I relaxed in his arms. I brought my gaze from the ground to the doorway.

And there she stood. Pretty as ever, with such innocent concern evident in her features. Except for her eyes. Her eyes had fogged over with several emotions. She didn't say anything, but her gaze never faltered.

"_No I meant… going to the dance with Chase. You sure you don't mind?"_

_I furrowed my eyebrows and looked up at her quizzically. "No, I don't mind. Why should I?"_

She was trying to tell me why. Now, with her eyes she was trying to tell me why I should care. But tonight, in the embrace of the one I loved, I decided I did not want to know. I did not want to mind. I wanted to forget. So I did.

* * *

"Would You Mind" will be a story consisting of the detailings of important moments throughout Zoey's senior year. For those of you who don't like getting into multi-chapter stories with fear the author will get tired, receive writer's block, or not update enough, rest assured, this story is entirely planned out and I have nearly finished writing it. So feel free to get emotionally attached. In fact, let me know how emotionally attached you get in a review. If I know you want an update, Part 2 will make a quick appearance. I would like to thank my wonderful beta, morgarita, for being such a great editor.


	2. Part 2

**Losing My Mind**

It hadn't taken much effort to convince Chase I was fine. Truthfully I was, after a few days. I explained to him that I was frustrated with myself for not having communicated better with him, and my emotions were exaggerated because it was "that time of the month." He didn't seem overeager to press after that. Nonetheless, to spare ourselves future similar confusion, we made a new arrangement- busy or not, to maintain a healthy and stress-free relationship we had to have "together time" at least once a week.

The tension I had pertained with Lola was completely imaginary. Upon returning to the dorm that night she apologized profusely, insisting she had not known I intended on going to the play with Chase. Apparently he had approached Lola that morning and said he had an extra ticket for a play, and having loved the previous production, she eagerly accepted his invitation to go along. I could tell she was genuinely sorry, so I found no reason to be mad at her. Or anyone. Everything was fine.

It was the beginning of February, and to the shock of every weatherman south of Oregon, quite cold out, but that didn't stop us from an early morning game of touch football. The game originally started out as girls (Lola, Quinn, and I) versus boys (Chase, Logan, and Michael), but that division was quickly rejected when we discovered that Michael had no throwing ability whatsoever, and Quinn had no athletic ability whatsoever. Eventually the teams consisted of Chase, Lola, and I versus Michael, Logan, and Quinn… well, mostly Michael and Logan.

Lola and I were already well aware of the rules, so we had plenty of time to talk strategy with Chase while Logan and Michael were still explaining the game to Quinn. We kept the guidelines simple: 1) stay within the boundaries, 2) physical violence gets penalized and 3) as long as the ball does not touch the ground and a scoring player is in possession of the ball in the touchdown zone, anything goes.

This immediately caused problems when Logan was called off-sides on the first play. He refuted, saying that there were no rules regarding off-sides. After much unnecessary argument a new rule was added- the opposite team could not move until the football reached the Center.

"Down… set… hike!"

I snatched the ball from Chase's hands, raising it over my shoulder even before I had clear sight of my receivers. Lola was being blocked by Michael, who had a three-inch height advantage over her. Chase, who had darted forward and hooked off to the left, was wide open, soon to be blocked by a rushing Logan. I considered running, but spotted a flash of brown out of the corner of my eye and hopped forward, missing Quinn's touch by inches. I raced ahead and threw the football to Chase.

My throw fell short, and Chase had to stop sprinting to catch the football. Logan nearly ran into him, clambering for the ball. Both boys clawed an end, and began struggling for possession. The intense game of tug-of-war ended when Lola ran up behind Logan and poked the side of his ribs. He leapt a mile high, letting go of the football and giving Chase the out he needed to flee down the field. He was within five yards of the scoring zone when a strong hand clamp down on his shoulder. Followed by a taunting "ha!" Chase bent over, pressing his palms to his knees while pausing to catch his breath. "Don't 'ha' me, Michael. We have first down."

"Yeah, well, you have yet to see my impressive blocking skills, my friend."

"If they're anything like your throwing skills, I doubt you guys will be scoring much."

As it turned out, Michael was not only great at blocking, but also intercepting. On our second down Lola threw the ball too hard. It sailed directly over my head and into Michael's outstretched hands. He faked running left, and then reversed so quickly I spun around and tripped over my own feet. He honked with laughter as he bolted down the field, Logan blocking at his side. Lola could not get a hand around him, and they scored a touchdown.

Both teams took turns dominating the lead after that, until it was 21-28. I had control of the ball again. Quinn and Logan had both gone to block Chase, apparently noting that Lola hadn't caught any of her passes. With Michael making a beeline toward me, I took the chance and threw directly to her. She held her arms out in cradle form, like she was carrying a load of books, and as the football landed in her arms she hugged it to her chest. Giddy, she more skipped than ran down the field. Logan poked her in the ribs several yards short of the scoring zone. "Revenge," he mocked smugly. She responded by sticking her tongue out.

Chase called us over for a huddle, where he wrapped his arm around our shoulders and bent low. "Okay. I have a plan. It's tricky, but I think it'll work. Zoey, you think you can fake a throw to me then pass to Lola?"

I smiled. "You got it, Coach," and couldn't help admire how adorable he looked

He grinned, seeming to know what I was thinking. "Lola, I want you to get ready." But instead of elaborating, he leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Lola broke out in a smile, while her already rosy cheeks took on another shade of red. "Okay," was her simple response.

"Alright, girls, let's do this." He reached his arm between us, where we both placed a hand on top of his. "One, two, three - BREAK!"

By the time we were positioned, Quinn was halfway through her "Hey, batter, batter!" chant, which Logan snickered at. Chase crouched in front of me, looking back to send me a quick wink. I beamed, and felt my heart race once again as I slipped the football from his hands. I took several steps back, and turned my body to the left, opposite where Lola was positioned. Chase was still in the middle of the field, not cutting across this time.

I faked a throw, and watched Logan and Michael freeze in place, confused and looking wildly to see where I had aimed. Their split second hesitation was all Lola needed to break away and open herself up for a catch. I aimed true and released the football, watching its spiral path trace an invisible line against the cloud-covered sky.

This throw was slightly higher than my last. It hit Lola square in the chest, where she clamped her arms down to keep it from falling. She appeared winded, and made no attempt to run. I was sure she had faltered, and prepared to dart forward and try blocking for her. No sooner had I taken a fleeting step when Chase appeared. He ran toward his teammate, and for a horrible second I thought he was going to head-butt Lola from behind.

Instead, upon approaching her he reached out to grasp her hips and slid his head and shoulders between her knees. Lola leaned forward to keep him balanced as he stood, and two seconds later she was sitting on top his shoulders. "CHARGE!" she ordered triumphantly, and Chase obliged. Quinn, on the opposite side of the field, simply laughed and watched them go. Michael and Logan both ran after Chase, although involuntary laughter made Michael slow. Chase remained a few inches ahead of Logan, enough so Logan couldn't reach up and touch Lola. We scored.

"Whoo-hoo!" My cheers were the loudest of them all. Logan immediately began to throw a tantrum, but Quinn was able to cool him off with reassuring kisses. Michael nodded approvingly, motioning to me. "Okay, Brooks, I see how it is. Just so you know, the kid gloves are officially coming off," he informed as he swayed his torso and did a step with his feet, a move which we called his "hoo-ah" dance.

"Bring it on, Barrett." (For some reason, competitiveness had us addressing each other by our last names.)

Meanwhile Chase was spinning Lola around on his shoulders. Her arms were raised high in the air and she was chanting "Who rocks socks? We rock socks!" over and over. When Chase stopped twirling, admitting he had grown dizzy, she slid off his back and pretended to wobble as well. Together they fell over, ungracefully and with overlapping "oofs". They appeared lost in a fit of giggles, mouths open and looking like guppies gulping for air. Lola turned over on her side, gazing at her partner in a way that could only be described as blissful.

"_Tu es un excellent athlète, Monsieur_," she complimented through a bright smile.

"_Oui, Mademoiselle. J'ais un grand amour pour mes ventilateurs_." And as smooth as the French words rolled of his tongue, Chase reached out and took Lola's hand, placing it briefly to his lips.

My heart skipped a beat as a rush of bewilderment zipped through my bloodstream. I visibly shook as nerves vibrated under my skin, and the growing constriction of oxygen around me made it difficult to breathe. I hastily blinked away the arising nausea, watching the coup- _pair_ rise to their feet. I didn't move when Chase approached, his eyes dancing with happiness. "Zoey, you were terrific!" and he planted a kiss on my cheek. His breath was so warm it sent shivers down my spine and into my toes, while his embrace engulfed me with vibrant heat. I made an effort to smile when I returned his hug, squeezing him slightly tighter than I normally would.

"Yeah, you were great too."

Just as he released me, the school bell rang. Classes were starting. Michael and Logan released a chorus of groans, both frustrated at having to end the game with a tied score. The promise of a rematch remained on everyone's lips as we said our goodbyes and headed for our classrooms. Coincidently, Lola, Chase, and I all had English for first period. While walking to class Chase and Lola joked about starting an NFL team, and went so far as to start picking a team name.

"How about the Pacific Coast Koalas?" Chase offered spontaneously.

"But there aren't any Koalas in California…"

"At the zoo there are."

Lola shook her head. "The… Pacific Coast Porpoises?"

Chase rebutted, "There aren't any porpoises in California either! Besides, who would be afraid of one of those?"

"Who's afraid of Koalas?"

"I happen to find Koalas very terrifying," Chase replied in a too-serious tone. Lola sighed in amusement, wrapping her hair behind her ear.

As they continued to bounce team names off one another I could only listen with half-interest. This cold weather had me feeling very dreary. I silently prayed for a sun, or some form of light to come from the heavens… even a flying saucer beam would have been nice at this point. But no such luck: the clouds were lifeless and the world was colorless. I considered wishing for snow, which would have at least proved an alternative to the current bland weather, and decided to do just that. _Clouds, clouds, go away; gather some snow to brighten the day…_

"Earth to Zoey!" I heard distant, and then not so distant, snapping. I was startled to see a large hand waving in front of my face. Jerking back, I found the hand was actually of normal size. "Zoey?"

"Yeah," I turned to see two expecting faces. "I'm sorry, I must have gotten side-tracked. What were you saying?"

"I asked if you would mind."

Would I mind; those words came from her mouth again. Immediately I felt my insides turn sour, and my face melted into a frown. The phrase repeated itself over and over, like a witch chanting a curse. "Mind what," I questioned quietly, slightly frightened.

Chase replied slowly, "Would you mind if we called ourselves the Almighty Monkeys?"

I released a breath, with it letting go the sudden tension that had arisen. "Oh. Sure, why not? Monkeys are definitely scary. Make them almighty and… whew, we'll take over the planet."

**Mind Your Language**

While the sky was still as dismal as ever, inside the lounge the lighting was bright and the air was warm. Students were buzzing around, too many to fit to the one pool table, so most were standing and trying to talk over the next group of teenagers. Chase and I arrived early and were able to get the couch to ourselves. I was leaned against him, reading through some papers as he scribbled down ideas for an essay draft. For the first time in what seemed like hours, I looked up from my History notes and caught sight of a group of foreign exchange students passing. They were chatting eagerly in a language I didn't recognize.

That reminded me... "Since when do you speak French?"

Ever since the morning of the football game I had been reminding myself to ask Chase where he learned to speak another language. He had a hard enough time with the English language; so much that I though he'd be discouraged from pursuing a second tongue.

"Oh, I learned it in England. I'm not fluent yet, but I bought some tapes and I'm working on mastering _the art that is the French language_." He exaggerated the last of his sentence with a terrible accent.

I watched him flip through our History textbook, seemingly determined to find one specific page. "You never told me that."

"You never asked," Chase responded harmlessly.

"So, where did Lola learn French?"

He answered in the same calm voice, meanwhile skimming a paragraph with his finger, "I've been teaching her. She's a fast learner- she's already pretty conversational. But then again, I'm a great teacher," he couldn't resist adding that immodest remark.

Again I was surprised. Lola hadn't mentioned learning French, nonetheless from Chase. Apparently it had been going on for some time…

I quickly put the thought out of my mind. I didn't want to dawdle on what else I didn't know about.

"Would you like me teach you some French words?" I blinked and looked up at Chase. He was smiling with such apparent hope that I didn't have the heart to tell him I needed to study for that afternoon's History test. Oh well, I was always pretty good at History anyway…

"Sure." It had been so long since I'd seen him this excited.

We wasted away the morning and early-afternoon practicing French greetings, responses and food names. I couldn't roll my tongue around "potato", which brought Chase to seize my mouth and mush it together. "_Pomme de terre…_" he spoke as he played puppeteer with my lips. It took many moments before I could finally say it, since it was difficult to form words around laughter.

"How do you say 'I love you'?" I inquired seductively.

If possible, that heart-stopping smile grew even wider. "_Je t'aime._"

Running my hands down Chase's cheek, I leaned forward to place all my strength into his kiss, using my mouth to memorize every crease and curve of his lips. After a moment I released him, locking his gaze and whispering, "_Je t'aime_, Chase."

I watched his mouth part to form words, but all I heard next was a loud, never-ending bell. It rang loud across the lounge, signaling the start of all afternoon classes. Scoffing and forming an apologetic smile, I removed myself from Chase's grasp. "Sorry, I've got to get to class." I attempted to fit all my textbooks into my bag (honestly, were my books getting bigger?!), tapping my foot with growing frustration. Eventually the bag gave in, and I was able to slip my notebook inside. "I'll see you on Saturday, right?"

He nodded. "The movie starts at seven. Can I pick you up at a quarter till?"

"Sure."

"Oh, and Zo?" Chase rose from the couch, and allowed me a second to admire his height. He had grown slightly taller this year. "I told Lola she could double-date with us, her and Carl; do you mind?"

"No, that's sounds great," I replied whole-heartedly. "Who's Carl?"

"He and Lola have study hall together. He asked her out last night. She seemed a bit doubtful about going out with him, so I offered to let her double with us. If he turns out to be a dud we can always bail her out."

"Well, aren't you thoughtful? You make a great wingman."

Again before he could reply, the bell rang. I was officially late. Offering a quick "gotta go", I darted into the hallway, passed the whispering foreign exchange students, and into the chilly February air.

**Mind Over Matter**

You would never have guessed it had been even slightly cold five weeks earlier. On the first day of March the sun was scorching, and kids foolish enough to walk outside barefoot burned their feet on the concrete sidewalks. As it was, I had remembered my shoes, but forgotten that black didn't breathe well in heat. As cute as my blouse looked, I felt as though it had slowly suffocated me all day, which explained why I was thankful when my session with Mrs. Raeburn ended early.

Mrs. Raeburn was my career counselor, and I swear an angel from heaven. I had been going to see her for months, inquiring mostly about colleges, courses, opportunities and requirements. Today she revealed to me she had information on the Chicago college IADT (the International Academy of Design and Technology) and proudly informed me that, while the process would be quite competitive, she could see me being accepted. "Of course, you'd have to work very hard- this is an exceptional school, and you will have to show them you mean business."

I assured her I was more than happy to do just that. She informed me that a perfect grade point average, while important, would not suffice on its own. Mrs. Raeburn went on to explain that my work as a lifeguard and candy striper would indeed look impressive to the school, but "you must now integrate design into your work life. This way you will have an extra edge over many of the other applicants."

That was when she recommended the summer internship.

The Academy of Arts, a related branch of IADT, had internships available for students to attend from mid-June to early August. I was in a tizzy looking over the brochure for the millionth time. Needless to say what I read was overwhelming- the entire set-up was so professional, and from the provided descriptions I'd be "sampling a taste from the world of fashion design" before heading off to college. It all seemed too good to be true.

I couldn't wait to tell Chase about it.

It was almost eight o'clock and he hadn't returned to his dorm room. I began to dial his cell when the door finally opened, and in popped my bushy-haired boyfriend. "Hey! Where've you been?"

He jumped, apparently not having expected to find me in his bedroom. "Sushi Rox. We all got together for dinner. I didn't know you were free. You could've joined us."

Barely hearing what he said, I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the chair beside me. "Guess what? Mrs. Raeburn got information about IADT! I told you I was looking into that, right? Anyway, so she told me that besides keeping my grades up and volunteering, I should also look into this summer internship. And look at it!" I shoved the pamphlet into Chase's hands. "Isn't it amazing? I'd get to assist true designers, and learn how a fashion design comes to life on the runway. Could you imagine?!" I stopped to take a breath, but didn't allow Chase to interrupt. I continued on for several minutes, highlighting all my favorite details about the summer internship.

"Some of my favorite designers went to IADT," I explained hurriedly. "It's a well respected school everywhere. If I graduated with honors, I'd be able to work abroad- maybe in Paris or Milan." I felt so lightheaded and scatterbrained. Of course I had always dreamed about becoming a designer, but for the first time it seemed a reality, something I could truly aspire to, and I couldn't shake the excitement bursting within my bones.

Chase's gaze was trained on the cover of the brochure, only responding with a simple "wow" when I finished rambling. "So… it's in Chicago?"

"Yeah, which is great because the top five interns," I pointed at the sixth page in the brochure, which showed a picture of five attractive, smiling teenagers, "get to fly to New York on July 29th to see a modeling show." My heart felt like it was on fire, fueled by adrenaline and imagination.

"That's… wow." The smile he gave me was genuine. The look in his eyes was not.

"Yeah, it's** really** wow… And I'm going to start working at the soup kitchen downtown. Mrs. Raeburn said that any kind of volunteering looks good to colleges. So you and I are going to have to rearrange our date this week. I'd like to volunteer on Thursday afternoons if possible, from about five to seven or so. I need to call the kitchen tomorrow to find out when they need help… and I'll have to see about getting a ride… On second thought, it would be easier to just take the bus." I jotted down on my notebook _check out bus schedule._

When I looked up I caught Chase staring at me. He seemed anxious, expecting, but I didn't know what else he could want me to say- hadn't I rambled on enough? He remained quiet for another moment before shifting in his chair. "It sounds like you've got quite a plan here."

It was now very clear he was off. He was fidgeting and unusually unresponsive. But before I could ask what was wrong, he spoke up, "If you'll excuse me Zoey, I have some work to get done… Michael and I are working on a new script for the Chase & Michael show, and I'd like to finish it by the weekend."

I hesitated, not making an effort to stand. He noticed, and gave me a small smile. "Call me when you have a day free, okay? We can go out for pizza." Helping me to my feet, he pressed his lips to my cheekbone and whispered a farewell.

As I closed the door behind me, I heard the faint sound of clicking within the bedroom. Dawdling, I pressed my ear to the door to listen. I heard Chase talking, and realized he had made a phone call. "Hey Lola. Are you busy?... Would you mind meeting me in the library around eight?... Yeah, I kinda need someone's ear right now… You sure?... Okay, I'll see you then."

**Mind Your Own Business**

I felt as though I had been swimming upstream for weeks, feeling so mentally and physically exhausted. While my schoolwork had briefly lightened up, I'd become "slightly obsessed" (Quinn's words) with researching the summer internship. I was able to arrange a meeting with the internship's administrator to take place over spring break. She said she would be able to give me a better idea of what to expect, as well as a tour of the facility and schedule of events. Too eager to wait, I emailed my parents and informed them of my summer intentions. They replied the next day as ecstatic about the program as I was, although requested to be kept up-to-date regarding school-related plans.

Regrettably, Chase and I were unable to keep to our weekly-date arrangement, and lately were only able to catch each other during classes. He seemed distant, although not avoiding or even angry. He was just never up for talking and always had something to do. At first I wondered if this was some sort of revenge; a tit-for-tat for my having broken so many dates. But I pushed the thought aside- that sounded more behavioral of Logan than Chase.

Chase was not the only one acting differently, however. Over the past several days I had spotted Lola and Quinn huddled together, whispering loudly. Lola seemed evading, while Quinn looked perturbed and upset. Whenever I approached them though, they dropped their argument, greeting me and starting up a conversation about movies or clothes. It was getting frustrating to say the least. After all these girls were my roommates; why should they be hiding something from me? Did it have to do with Chase's recent mood?

Breifly I wondered if it had to do with Carl, whom Lola had been seeing on and off for the past month. She never seemed particularly anxious about going out with him, despite Quinn's attempts to keep them together. I had assumed Quinn was playing matchmaker because she suspected Lola of still carrying a torch for Vince, who hadn't stayed on the market very long after their break up. But upon discussing Carl with Quinn, she didn't get over-excited or even seem to care about Lola's disinterest in him, so I figured that wasn't what they were arguing over.

Then the next night, returning to my room after study hall, I caught them again. This time Lola was the one who looked upset. Quinn appeared stunned. Just as before, they spotted me and seemed to forget what they were talking about: Quinn resumed a one-player game of chess while Lola began painting her fingernails. Their greetings sounded far away. Secretive. And that was it; I couldn't take it anymore. "Okay, that's enough. What is it you guys aren't telling me?!" I glued my hands to my hips, planting both feet firmly to the ground.

Minutes followed of rushed denial, counter-arguments, threats and eventually surrender. Quinn had been ready to continue insisting she knew nothing. It was Lola who didn't have the heart to fight. "Zoey… we weren't trying to keep this from you. It isn't even any of our business."

"What isn't your business?"

Quinn offered nothing, her mouth left half-open as though she was completely clueless. Lola spoke quickly, "It's Chase. He's been having a bit of a rough time recently. He's been confiding in me… and Michael… about it. And then I told Quinn."

I took two steps forward, coming to sit on my bed. "Okay…" I responded impatiently. "What's bothering him?"

Quinn looked to Lola, who kept her eyes trained on me. "It's not our place to say. You should really talk to Chase."

I took a deep breath, understanding her caution but still curious. "Does it have to do with me?"

This time Lola didn't answer, which I took to mean yes. Sighing, I dropped my backpack to the floor. "Do you know where he is now?" Better now than later. Goodness Chase, if you were upset why couldn't you just say something?

"Logan told me he's been studying up on the boys' roof for the last couple nights," Quinn offered helpfully.

Without a goodbye, because frankly I was still upset they withheld this from me, I stalked out the room and across the campus. Mentally I was trying to think up a way to get passed the Boys' DA, who never let girls in after eight. Growling when nothing came to mind, I decided to take the chance that he would be sympathetic.

Yet for the first time in ages, prayer wasn't necessary. There, on the fountain in the middle of the square, sat Chase. His feet were placed up on the edge, with his arms wrapped loosely around his knees. He didn't see me, or at least acknowledge he did, until I was at his side. Even then he didn't turn until I said hello. When he finally did face me, I realized the short smile and calm eyes he gave me, the same features he'd bore for many weeks, were not the same as before. To think that any psychological discomfort could have such a physical affect on him made me shudder.

I sat on the edge of the fountain by his feet, taking a moment to prepare my thoughts. Unfortunately "what are you doing out here" was all my tired brain could come up with.

The blue of the water swam in his eyes, a neon reflection within a sea of black. "I like to think out here. It's normally pretty quiet… except of course when Stacey walks by singing 'Genie in a Bottle'." He made a coughing noise, which I think had been an attempt at laughing.

Afraid of an uncomfortable silence recurring, I decided to take the plunge. "I get this feeling like… like you're upset about something. About me. And I want to know why, or what it is I did." Deciding to elaborate, I added, "If this is about my being busy, really I am sorry. I don't mean to keep skipping out on our dates but-"

"This isn't about that." He responded wearily, his careworn words crawling up my skin.

"Then what is this about?"

Normally, when we were in a disagreement, Chase could never seem to find the right words to say what he meant. But tonight, he had no trouble at all. "This is about the fact that even when you're not busy, you don't make time for me. I can't invite you to go somewhere without clearing it with you weeks in advance. This is about me telling Michael and Logan I can't go see a basketball game with them because I have a date with you, which I already know you're going to cancel. This is about the fact that you were able to make time to volunteer two hours of your busy week at that soup kitchen while you haven't been able to make time to sit down and have a cup of coffee with me. And in spite of the fact that I barely see you anymore… you don't even ask if I would volunteer with you."

I felt the air die around me. My mouth weighed heavily on my jaw, and I couldn't bring myself to blink or move. His words were so pointed, so harsh. They stabbed deep within my heart, while his pained expression continued to kick me in the gut. My face turned pale as his accusations sunk in, bouncing against my conscience and bruising whatever they struck.

"I hadn't considered… Chase, you never told me you… I didn't get the impression you needed to volunteer too," was the oh-so-stupid reply my brain had compiled.

Those endlessly dark eyes boiled with a blossoming emotion- anger. Chase bit the inside of his lip, shaking his head with directed hopelessness. "You just don't get it, do you? I don't _need_ to volunteer. I don't plan my every waking moment to benefit me in my future. I _wanted_ to volunteer with you because I wanted to _be with you_, in the present, now. That's it. How can you not see that?"

I felt a familiar numb sensation rise up my in cheeks. A pressure I knew all too well would expose my confusion and vulnerability. "I do see that. I want to be with you too. I just didn't th-"

"No, Zoey." Chase cut me off, dropping his feet over the side of the fountain. "I don't think you see. I don't even think you feel the same way about me."

Once again his blame struck me hard, but this time in a very different way. I don't feel the same way? The suggestion was absolutely ridiculous! "How can you say that? I love you! We went to Maui together! If I didn't care-"

"THEN WHY DID YOU PICK A COLLEGE WITHOUT THINKING ABOUT WHERE I WAS GOING TO GO?!"

My heart sped up too quickly and I had to breathe out of my mouth to regulate the beat. For the nine months we had been together, Chase had never once raised his voice to me. He never had reason to… apparently, until now. His face had gone completely red, and he huffed like he was drowning. His scream continued to echo its way across campus.

I stared speechless, my brain malfunctioning and unable to spit out even a grunt. I leaned back, keeping my gaze on Chase, until I felt words form on my lips. "I've wanted to go to IADT for years. I didn't start looking into it seriously until now, but I always planned on applying if I was able to. What, you thought I chose it to get away from you?" Anger resurfacing, I decided I was tired of playing on the defense. "And who are you to get upset over what school I want to go to? You haven't even looked into any colleges yet!"

He didn't even have to speak. His glare alone told me I was incorrect. "And you see, you're wrong. But you wouldn't know what school I was looking into, because you aren't around enough for me to discuss it with you. Well Zoey, let's talk about it now.

"Matt Larson and I have gotten really close over the past year. He says I remind him of himself when he was starting out. He told me that there is a summer program available for a select group of young talents, including writers, and he said he might be able to pull some strings to get Lola and me in. Oh yeah, he absolutely loves Lola, because _she's_ the one who goes to plays with me. And she's crazy about that theatre, which is why I bought an extra ticket for her for tomorrow's production; so that she could go with you and me. I guess you've been too busy to talk to her as well, because she's also been thinking about joining the summer program." Chase's voice sounded so different when he was bitter- it was as though his words were being dubbed, and there was someone hidden in the bushes doing the actually talking. This wasn't Chase. This wasn't my boyfriend.

"And if it happens to work out," he continued, engrossed in his rant, "Matt has a contact at the University of Theatrical Arts in London. I visited that place last year. It's unbelievable, and has a curriculum designed for script writers and aspiring performers. And with Matt as a reference, I'm pretty much a sure-fire to get in. He said he could even help my _girlfriend_ get in if she wanted. You see that's what he calls Lola, because he's never seen my _actual_ girlfriend, the one I'm always yammering about but who can never make time to go see a-"

"STOP IT!" I covered my ears, bringing my elbows together in front of my face. I couldn't stand to hear anymore. I was crying now, sobs which shook my entire body. I coughed and whimpered, running my hands over my face to cover my eyes.

Miraculously, he did stop yelling. But that didn't mean he was finished. I felt Chase's hands fall to my wrists, where he pulled them apart. I was forced to look at him when he spoke deeply, in a calmer voice that better suited him: "You never once asked me where I wanted to go to college. You started planning without talking to me, and I… I don't know what you thought. That I'd make my plans according to yours? But I can't, Zo. I have dreams as big as yours, and I can't follow you to Chicago when you can't make time for me in California. You… you can't fit me into your life now, and you didn't try to fit me into your future. But that's it, isn't it? I'm not a part of your future."

I shook my head rigorously. "No, that's not it. You're laying this all on me too quickly. I've been doing so much and I haven't had time to-"

"To think of me." he finished with sharp coolness. "Through all your planning and preparations, you didn't have time to think of me." Chase released my wrists and took a step back. "Well I've had a lot of time to think, Zoey. I've thought about us going to college in California. I've thought about us growing up together, buying a blue house with black shudders and a swimming pool, getting married, having three kids, you working as a stay-at-home designer taking care of our children while I went to my job at the movie studio from 9-5 every day. And then I would come home and we'd spend the evening together, doing whatever and just wanting to be with each other. No ulterior motives, no planning, no cancelations.

"But you know what I think now?" His face had taken on immovable somberness. "I don't think that what you want. I don't think you can live that kind of life. Because work just comes first with you and… and you need to find someone who also puts their job before their relationships."

I heard my heart split in two when he added quietly, "I'm not that guy."

Just like that. It happened that quickly. And as I stood, eyes bloodshot and tears soaking the collar of my shirt, I realized that nothing I could say or do would change what had just happened. No crying or denying or begging could erase the truth in his words or the verdict he had drawn. I couldn't say anything, and probably didn't have the ability to. Because reality was now speaking to me, and she was being truly unkind.

We had broken up. We _were_ broken up. Chase had broken us up…

_No,_ I heard a whisper within me refute. _I broke us up._

For awhile is simply sat, looking down at my reflection in the fountain's still water. I felt as though I was watching someone else's life unfold, someone else's world collapse, but not my own. Please not my own. Please, let this prove to be a horrible, horrible nightmare.

"Zoey." My name already sounded different on his tongue. "Zoey, we have to go. If we're caught outside we'll get detention," but there was absolutely no energy in his voice. I turned to look at him, and suddenly noticed how tired he looked. His hair even more frizzled and his posture poor- he looked older somehow. "If you want, we can talk tomorrow…" he sounded as though he was going to add more, but refrained.

Sniffling, I ran the top of my hand over my eyes and slowly stood. "I… I don't think there's really anything else to say."

This time I heard someone else's heart break.

We simply stared at each other. And the longer I traveled into his gaze the farther away he seemed. We were no longer on the same team, I realized. We were on opposing sides, and could not cross the imaginary line that now separated our bodies. We could not comfort each other like we ached to; we could not because we were the source of each other's pain. We could only stare at one another.

I sniffed again and took a deep breath, breaking eye contact by briefly examining my shoes. When I had the courage to look up, I found the ability to say what I truthfully believed. "You know… we aren't like other couples, Chase. We were friends first. Our entire relationship wasn't built on dating… We could… we could still be friends." Amazingly, it didn't sound as cliché as I thought it would. Not to say it didn't burn a hole my heart.

Chase nodded, and I briefly wondered if he had been thinking the same thing. "Yeah… yeah, I agree… I just think that," he paused to carefully choose his next words, "that you and I need to take a break… from each other. Just for a bit."

"I think that's a good idea… Just for a bit," I repeated gently. My insides still felt so tender, and though I'd never had a broken heart so severe, I suspected a few days alone would give my heart time to start stitching up the wounds.

It was Chase who was able to move first. He stepped over the imaginary line and stopped inches in front of me. I watch him extend his hand, palm open and unthreatening. "Zoey, will you be my friend… please?"

For as long as I'd live, I knew I'd never hear such a sincere tone in someone's voice. I loved that so much about him. And with the fear that I might say so aloud, I merely nodded and took his hand. His touch was as warm as ever, but not passionate or private. It was… friendly.

We dropped our arms to our sides, and I patiently waited for Chase to say goodbye. Because I certainly didn't have the ability to do so without falling apart. The thought of being the first to turn away made my knees shake, and I knew any more pressure would cause my legs to crumble beneath me.

Instead of a simple goodbye, I was caught by surprise with something else. "Since we're taking a break… would you mind if I gave your theatre ticket to Michael?"

I wasn't hurt by his question. It was a perfectly legitimate request, or so stated the only functioning part of my brain. I wasn't even insulted by however inappropriate a time it may have been. No, what caused the remains of my heart to drip from my eyes was when I replied "I don't mind" and realized I meant it.

* * *

I know what you are thinking: "_Thanks Song, for bumming me out!_" Believe me, I wish I didn't have to, but I can't control what these characters do. Dan Schnider wrote them, not me. This may be the saddest part of the story, but it's far from the most action-packed. No, we have a giant complication arising (which most of you have probably already spotted) and we are going to learn where these friends stand with each other.

I gave up drugs when I became addicted to reviews. Please give me my high. ;)


	3. Part 3

_I have had dreadful luck with betas recently, so this chapter is un-edited. I apologize for any grammatical errors, but I did not want to keep you waiting any longer._

_Enjoy, and remember to give me insight into your thoughts with a review._

****

* * *

In Mind's Eye

Upon returning to dorm, I found my roommates fast asleep, only a corner lamp lit for when I arrived. Without bothering to change out of my clothes I slipped into bed and shut the light off, swallowed within a darkness that reminded me far too much of the deep shade of Chase's eyes. I held a pillow over my face to muffle the sobbing; to shut out the never-ending sorrow that deprived me off all I remembered to be happy. I could have cried for longer had I not been so emotionally drained. My body eventually sagged as sleep relieved me of my strife for nine and a half unmissed hours.

I awoke to an earthquake, which was actually two people shaking me out of my dreams. I opened my eyes to two attractive teens, staring at me agape and with apparent distraught. I then realized I wouldn't have the displeasure of revealing to them my breakup with Chase. Instead they probably heard it from some passing ninth-grader who barely knew who Chase Matthews and Zoey Brooks were.

The hoard of questions that followed seemed to blur together, and I didn't know how I was expected to respond when I could barely understand what was being said. Still half-asleep, I reached out to cover my roommate's mouths with my palms. This gave me about three seconds of silence, which was enough to interject. "Hang on, guys. I'm not awake yet."

Lola seemed to understand, but Quinn was frantic. "What happened? What did he say? What did you do?" and more questions along these lines burst out fluidly. Rubbing my eyes, which were stinging horribly, I chose not to wait any longer to explain. I took a deep breath before beginning a lengthy dissection of the night's events. Lola and Quinn sat perfectly still, glued to my every word and movement. And even after I'd finished, they remained motionless. This was short-lived.

"Zoey, I'm so sorry," Quinn offered sympathetically. "Are you sure you and Chase can't work it out?"

I looked down at my lap, shaking my head. "I don't think so. I mean, I still love him but… he made it really clear last night that we were just too different to be together."

Quinn continued to offer solace, claiming that she had gone through the same thing when she broke up with Mark. All the while Lola sat unusually quiet, seeming to be lost in her own thoughts. I laid my head back on my pillow, half-listening and half-forgetting. I needed to spend the day in bed. I needed my roommates there with me, my collection of romance films playing and my best friends Ben and Jerry ready to comfort me with sugar. When I admitted this aloud, Quinn wasted no time in reaching under the bed to select DVDs from my movie stash. Lola had made her way over to the freezer, picking out three pint-sized containers of ice cream. She located a few plastic spoons, leftovers from takeout nights, and came to lie next to me on the bed. I accepted the Chunky Monkey with silent thanks, watching Quinn readjust the television to face the bed. She then joined us, and so we remained for several hours, suckling chocolate and marshmallow from our spoons while mourning the love story in front of us.

If there was a more ridiculous thing to be thankful for, it was to be broken up with on a Friday night. This left me the whole weekend to be pampered on by my darling roommates, and to forget all about schoolwork. Jeremiah Trottman stopped by around 3 o'clock, and I expected him to chew me out for not having the next day's issue ready. Instead he gave a small smile and told me he had everything covered, and that he hoped I would feel better soon. Surprisingly, receiving sympathy from the Dateless Wonder did nothing for my pride.

Lola convinced me to change into my favorite pajamas, which were actually a pair of purple sweatpants and an oversized pink t-shirt with a large, white tiger face across the front. They had been a gift from my dad (who wasn't exactly a shopping tycoon), so they had a special sentimentality to them. They smelled like him, and it was an odor I found comforting despite my gloom.

Evening began to fall, and my muscles were growing tired from lying in bed so long. Quinn and Lola had gone outside to wait for the pizza delivery. I stood up slowly, sending a stretch from my calves up my legs, passed my chest and out through my arms. I felt like a zombie, and after catching my reflection in the mirror realized I looked one too. Carelessly I started searching the room for a hairbrush, as Quinn and Lola were constantly moving them about. Eventually I found one lying on the floor by the dresser. I bent down to pick it up when something in the trash can caught my eye. Inside I spotted a small, rectangular piece of paper. Removing it from the waste basket, I examined it closer.

It was a theatre ticket. In large block letters on the top, the title **Over the River and Through the Woods **was written. _The show date is today_, I noted as I glanced over the smaller type. It took me a few seconds to realize this was the performance Chase had mentioned the previous night. Had Lola thrown her ticket away?

Coming back down onto the bed, I nodded to myself. Of course she had. Lola wouldn't disrespect her best friend by hanging out with her ex so soon after their break up. If anything, Lola was a girl who could hold a permanent grudge. At that thought I managed a small smile. I was so lucky to have such wonderful friends. Ha, that was laughable: I considered Lola and Quinn my _sisters_… Sisters knew how to take care of each other. Sisters knew what was best for one another.

My gaze returned to the ticket in my hand. I recalled my argument with Chase, but more specifically what he had said about Lola. Was Lola really considering this summer performance program? I'd never heard her mention it. Granted, we hadn't had a lot of time to talk lately, but surely she could have brought it up while we were getting ready for school or studying. Lola loved acting as much as I adored fashion, so I didn't doubt she would consider such an experience…

"Pizza delivery," Quinn called as she opened the bedroom door. In behind her walked Lola, bending backward at a 45º angle while trying to balance the cardboard boxes in her hands. "Sorry it took so long."

"It's okay," I replied automatically, my thoughts still on Lola. Would she be missing out on an opportunity by not meeting with Matthew Larson tonight? Would she refuse to go to the summer program because of my break up with Chase?

"Lola," I called before I could think. She turned expectantly, keeping her eyes on me while pulling two slices of pepperoni pizza from the box. "Yeah Zo?"

"I think that… I think you should go to the theatre with Chase and Michael tonight."

The entire room seemed to freeze in place. Lola didn't hide her surprise, dropping her jaw slightly. But she recovered, closing her mouth and turning to open a packet of parmesan cheese. "I, uh, I don't feel up to it tonight. Besides I'm not leaving you in your time of need."

I gestured to Quinn, who handed me my plate and pulled a comfy chair up next to the bed. "Quinn will be here. You should go. Chase told me about the program you guys are looking into… It sounds really awesome," I could tell I didn't sound as enthusiastic as I wanted to.

Lola shook her head, replying, "It's not important. I'll have plenty of time to look into it later. I want to be here with you."

"You've already done enough. I really want you to have a good time… and…" I paused to decide whether or not to continue, then leaned in favor of it, "I want you to tell me how Chase is doing. I know we're on a break and all, but I'm still worried about him."

My ulterior motive seemed to have the desired effect on Lola. She paused a moment to mull over the suggestion. "You sure you don't mind?"

"No, really. I'm tired anyway. I'd probably make for lousy company tonight."

Still hesitant, but not enough to object, Lola agreed, leaving the room to dial Michael and tell him she was on her way over. Quinn stood up to riffle through a stack of DVDs, plucking out two of her favorites. "You wanna watch _Titanic_ or _The Breakfast Club_?"

I glared in response, and she got the hint. "Breakfast Club it is."

**Mind Games**

The last thing I remembered was Emilio Estevez parading around a library, yelling in demented ecstasy and performing handsprings. I was awake, but my eyelids were too heavy to lift. Concious enough for my senses to kick in, I realized my blanket was caught around my waist. I reached down to pull it up across my shoulders. Warmth returned and I waited to succumb to the land of sleep.

I was on the brink of dream when the knock came. I winced at the loud noise, curling farther into my side. I was thankful when it stopped, but the silence was short as the sound of padding feet and a door opening followed. I groaned internally. _It's the middle of the night! Let me sleep_, I pleaded to whoever had entered the room.

"Hey," came a low, casual greeting. "Can we stay here for a bit?"

_No._ But apparently Quinn's telepathy function was offline today. "It's 11 o'clock. Where's Lola?"

"She's with Chase. We left 'em at the dorm. Our DA caught us sneaking out and he's looking for us… please let us come in." Even as I was barely awake, I recognized the second voice as Michael's. He was the only person I knew who had perfected the art of whining and begging.

"Sure, come on in." I heard shuffling, and the sound of the bean bag chair sagging under a person's weight.

"Can we talk in front of her?" I knew Logan was referring to me.

"Yeah, she's been out like a rock for hours." _And apparently sympathy does not diminish the necessity of griping on friends' sleeping habits_, I snipped sarcastically.

Of course Quinn didn't hear me, so she continued. "How's he doing?"

"Not good. He's been pacing around the room all day."

"And he won't shut up," Logan added bitterly. "He keeps talking about how he pushed Zoey away, or how he was too hard on her, or how he wasn't patient enough…"

"Remorse isn't uncommon after break ups, even if you're the one who ended the relationship."

"Yeah, but it's not true. We'd told him that he _was_ patient with Zoey. She was just too busy to be in a relationship." Hearing Michael dissect my love life was none-too-settling. Especially since it reminded me of the previous night's argument. I pressed my ear harder into the pillow, hoping to block out their words.

"I still think they could get back together," Quinn revealed. "They love each other."

"I think Zoey blew it last night."

Suddenly I found myself wide awake.

"What do you mean?"

Michael went on to say that while repenting, Chase had explained his argument with Zoey. "He said she didn't even try to talk him out of breaking up with her. She just went along it… I guess he was hoping for her to fight back more."

I didn't realize my heart had shifted up my throat. It was lodged at the base and I found it hard to breath.

"I couldn't believe it. I mean, Zoey loves to fight!"

"No Logan, that's just with you." Michael pointed out cynically. "I think she should have at least tried to stop him."

"Maybe she knew he was right," was Quinn's weak reply. "Or maybe she didn't want to seem, you know, desperate. I mean, _he_ broke up with _her_. It's hard to find anything to say after that."

The room fell quiet, as I'd wished for it to moments before. But what was said still rang loud in the air, and I felt taunted by the pain that nipped at my eyes. I couldn't cry, not again. I was so tired of crying.

"You think they'll be able to talk to each other again?" The compassion in Logan's tone surprised me.

"I think so. Zoey said they agreed to be friends. I think it's gonna take awhile though. We just have to be there for Chase and Zo in the meantime," Quinn explained in her usual realistic tone. I could picture her sullen face, wise and understanding, and envied her for her calm mind.

"Lola seems to be helping Chase out more than us. But then she knows more about break ups than we do," Michael referred to himself and Logan, neither of whom had ever had a relationship serious enough to result in painful repercussions. In fact, both were in their most serious relationships at the present time.

"Yeah well, I'm not sure this is good for Lola either."

_What? Why?_ "Why?" Michael echoed. But it was Logan answered.

"Dude, who do you think Chase has been hanging out with all year? Zoey was always off doing homework and saving the world or whatever. Chase has been spending all his time with Lola. She's become his new best friend."

"Hey!"

"_Girl_ best friend," Logan clarified with noticeable annoyance.

Quinn's remark was quiet, barely above a whisper, "I think it's more than that… I mean, haven't you noticed how differently she's been acting around Chase? I keep trying to talk to her about it but she says she doesn't-"

Quinn was midway through her sentence when a familiar "click" came from the door. I couldn't resist turning over, opening my eyelids a fraction of the way. Lola looked worn out, her hair frayed and clothes pruned. She heaved a sigh, walking up to stand beside Michael, who was leaned against the dresser. "Hey guys."

"Hey, we were just talking about- Ow!" Although I couldn't see her from the bed, I imagined Quinn poking Logan in the side.

"We were just talking about Chase," Michael covered up quickly. "He doing any better?"

I watched Lola nod, although her face remained surly. "I think so. He seemed all right at the theatre, and chatting with Matt helped. He got Chase and me the papers for the summer program. He said all we had to do was fill them out and we were guaranteed a spot in the group. Chase is gonna talk to his parents about it tomorrow… although I don't think his heart's in it right now."

"Are you planning to go too?"

She simply shrugged.

I didn't want to hear any more. I groaned noisily, spinning onto my back, hoping they would notice how loud they had gotten. They did.

"Zoey's waking up. We better get going."

"Watch out for your DA," Lola warned as the boys went to leave. "He's stationed in the lounge, but I left your bedroom window unlocked."

"Thanks Lola. We owe you one."

"I'll accept a cappuccino delivery tomorrow morning…"

Michael scoffed. "Yeah right."

"You said you owed me!"

"I was just being polite," he admittedly cheekily.

Exasperated, Lola proceeded to shove the boys out the door. I shut my eyes and found that one tear had peaked from its hiding place under my eyelid. It traced a lonely path down my cheek. I wasn't sure what I was crying over, but decided it didn't really matter. Suddenly the blankets covering me weren't enough to keep warm; a cold chill had escalated through my body and I could suppress a shiver. I tried curling into as tight a ball as possible, pressing my thighs into my chest. Even then I reached out to hug my knees, squeezing as tight as I could. It strained my arms but I didn't let go, hoping to exhaust myself into sleep.

I did, but not before a memory clouded my thoughts. The memory of a night when a pretty brunette in a fuchsia prom dress wrapped hers arms around a bushy-haired boy in plaid and jeans. She never looked so happy. He never looked so content. And standing beside them, I never looked so blissfully unaware.

**Mind Yourself**

Talk of my breakup with Chase had begun to die on gossiping lips each passing week. And by the time it was old news, Chase and I were on speaking terms again. It was a gradual re-acquaintance, "hellos" in the hallway and chats at lunch to start. This eventually grew into study sessions and dinners out with our friends. Throughout our gatherings I was glad he didn't point out how I was spending more time with him now than while we were dating. He stuck with positive topics, and didn't appear nearly as awkward as I felt. When it came time to say goodbye I had to resist the urge to lean over and kiss him or take his hand. I had too quickly grown accustomed to doing those things, and was constantly reminding myself I'd have to break the habit.

I was getting along far better with Chase than Lola. I had _somewhat_ subconsciously been avoiding her. Whenever she walked toward me I felt like we were magnets repelling each other: I couldn't stand being too close to her. I'd listen to for a moment or two as she talked about whatever random thing was on her mind. My own thoughts would drift back to what Quinn had said that Saturday night, how there was "more" to Lola's relationship with Chase than before. I would return to reality and fumble an excuse to Lola about having work to do, doing my best not to run after turning away from her.

It hurt to not be able to really talk to anyone. I had always been able to turn to Chase, Lola or Quinn during stressful times. But Quinn was Lola's confidant now and Chase and I were still mending fences. I didn't have anyone to confide in, and I gained a whole new appreciation for healing power of venting.

I tried talking to Michael when I could, but he turned out to be more of a conversationalist than a listener, and I could never bring myself to discuss Lola's relationship with Chase. He did seem to sense my grievance though, and in attempt to cheer me up told dozens of humorous anecdotes which, admittedly, made me smile. If there was anything you could say with confidence about Michael, it was that he made for entertaining company.

No one else seemed particularly concerned with my recent withdrawal, which brought me to realize how far I had drifted into schoolwork and away from my friends. I suspected they thought I was hung-over on Chase, and didn't object when they suggested as much. I slowly felt myself withering away, losing the ones I cared about and crumbling under the pressures of loneliness. I didn't know how to fix this. So I did my best to ignore it.

Why teachers felt compelled to cram the hardest assignments of the year within the final few months of school was beyond me. The newspaper was jumping, as PCA's tennis team was gradually moving up in state rank. Jeremiah and I were there to cover each game, and I was thankful for the distraction. While I'd never been particularly fond of tennis, because I wasn't all that good at it, I was truly enthralled in these games. I couldn't help admire the determination on our player's face every time she swiped her racket at the speeding tennis ball. She put so much focus into each swing and never lost that spring in her step after a point. I was even more intrigued by her performance after games. At the end of each tournament, after shaking her opponent's hand she would run over to a large group of teens and take them in a group hug. I'd watch her laugh and tease with them like any other girl would. I was so bewildered at her ability to balance such a difficult work life with a social one.

I was so curious in fact that I asked her during an interview how she managed it all. She grinned, seeming to glow as she replied, "My friends are so supportive of my playing tennis. They know it's important to me and respect that I'm busy. But whenever I can I make time to hang out with them and do normal stuff, like go to the movies and shop."

I wanted to ask "but couldn't you spend that time improving your game?", yet refrained. The reality was that she didn't need to practice more. She could put aside time for her friends and still win her tournaments. This brought me to then wonder: could I do the same? Did those extra hours where I studied instead of going out with my roommates really make any difference? Could I not spend 16 hours a day studying and still manage straight A's?

I tried to convince myself that I was different from the tennis player- I had to constantly work at improving myself in order to achieve my goal. I wanted so much to believe that, because it meant I hadn't unnecessarily pushed my friends away.

Each day wore on my heart even more. I felt myself moving slower, losing focus in class and going off into daydreams that I'd forget about the second I awakened from them. I would clawed at my scalp at night and take deep breaths. _It's just a few more months_, I'd repeat over and over. A few more months and I'd be at the internship of my dreams. I'd have friends who shared the same interests I did, who were as busy as I was and who could appreciate how much effort it took to succeed. I'd have friends who would never make me feel guilty. Friends who would never hide their feelings from me.

**Make Up Your Mind**

"Hey! Zoey!" I heard a familiar voice call.

Looking up from my laptop I watched an attractive football player jog towards me. He moved passed a gallop of squawking girls, all who looked ready to kiss his feet if he asked them to. Vince Blake always had that power over women. If he hadn't been so likable, I imagine many male students would've resented him for it.

"Hi Vince."

He came to sit next to me on the purple couch, his backpack hitting the floor with a loud _crunch_. "How're you doing?"

As much as I liked friendly conversation, hearing it from Vince set off internal warning bells. Sure we were sociable, but by no means were Vince and I close. "I'm… alright."

"What are you working on?"

Something was _definitely_ up. "Just studying…" He looked on expectantly, so I added, "about the Big Bang Theory."

He gave a mock look of interest. "Ah. Cool."

I wasn't in the mood to play games, but I was curious what he had to say. "What's up, Vince? I'm getting the impression something's on your mind."

He caved in too quickly, which told me he had been waiting for the question. Vince Blake always had to be in control. "I wanted to ask you something, you being Lola's friend and all. But I'd appreciate if you kept this between us…"

I closed my laptop, turning my body to face him. "Okay. What is it?"

He hesitated, which was very unlike him. But even his hesitation seemed confident, and in mid-thought his pose reminded me of Hercules. "Has Lola talked about me lately?"

"Uh… no, not really."

"She hasn't said anything about… wanting to get back together?"

And there it was. I sighed and shook my head. "No Vince, she hasn't mentioned that. But let me guess, you want to get back together with her?"

He didn't answer, apparently not liking how quickly I caught onto his game. I continued, "Look, you broke up with her. She's moved on. She's dating Carl Davidson now."

"Carl told me she broke up with him last week."

That was news to me, given I hadn't been talking with Lola enough to hear about her recent relationships. In fact, I was very much avoiding that subject. "Oh. Well, she hasn't mentioned you to me. But you could ask her, I guess." I wanted to get out of this discussion now. But Vince Blake was oblivious to brush offs. In fact, he probably wouldn't have recognized one if it walked up and introduced itself.

"Actually… I was hoping you would talk to her for me."

"Oh, I really couldn't…"

"Because of Chase?"

My heart suddenly beat viciously against my chest, and I felt my eyes grow wide. I stuttered against the drying air as all my thoughts drained out of my head. "What?" I could only manage the one syllable.

He didn't seem to notice my change in behavior, although I don't know why I expected him to. "Her and Chase have been hanging out a lot around campus and stuff. Some folks are saying they are secretly going out-"

"There is nothing going on with Chase and Lola!" I knew I said that too loud, but was too enraged to care or even make the effort to lower my voice. "They go see a play every once in a while. It's not a big deal." Frustrated and feeling nauseated, I shoved my laptop into my knapsack. "Tell you what? I'll talk to Lola tonight and find out if she wants to get back together with you." Truthfully that was the last thing I wanted to do, but it was the only way I could think of to get Vince to let me leave.

His perfect jaw formed a grin, and his eyes danced with anew joy. He stood as I did, and took my by the shoulders, pulling me into a bear hug. I didn't move, and couldn't with my arms pinned at my side. "Thank you," he said somewhere behind my right ear, "I really appreciate this." I nodded, which was the initiation he needed to let me go. The second I was free of his embrace I darted out of the lounge, attempting to keep my composure while dreading the conversation I would soon have to have with Lola.

For every moment until 8:03 I tried to will time to stop. I felt unrealistically omnipotent whenever I was in denial and gave myself false hope that I could reverse what was truly unavoidable. When this method of avoidance didn't work I felt sick to my stomach and, in attempt to find quick resolution, considered lying to Vince. I could tell him Lola wasn't interested in getting back together. But not only was I unfavorable of being dishonest, I actually wanted Vince and Lola back together. Lola was so happy when they were together, and if she was dating Vince, it meant she wouldn't have to spend all her free time with…

My thoughts were lost as Lola entered the dorm room. I looked up from the book I was supposed to be reading and greeted her as casually as I could. She seemed a bit surprised, but smiled warmly. "Hey Zoey. I didn't expect you to be here. Aren't you normally cramming in the lounge until midnight?" Her tone was joking, but I was unsettled by the accuracy of her inquiry.

"Yeah, I guess I've been working really hard… Where've you been?"

I watched her smile falter briefly. "Uh, nowhere really. Just hanging around…, doing some yoga." She walked over to her bed, throwing her gym bag into the closet. She climbed up the ladder to her bunk, curling over onto her mattress and falling back with a comfortable sigh.

"You tired?"

"Yeah. I've got this exam on Monday and I've been putting aside studying for it. If only learning science was as fun as learning yoga."

_Or French?_ "Could I ask you something," I asked quickly, more to cut off my own wondering thoughts than to bring it up.

Lola turned over on her side, starring at me with ignorant curiosity. "Always. What's on your mind?"

Despite the hours I'd spent preparing for this, I was only half-satisfied with my final approach. "It's about Vince. Have you seen him recently?"

"No, not lately."

"Well, he and I have been talking and he, uh… he asked me if I would-"

"-if you would go out with him?"

That was the second time that day someone had incorrectly finished my sentence. I blinked in shock, holding up my hand in accusing defense. "Hang on a sec! What?"

"Stacey told me she saw you and Vince in the lounge today. Apparently you looked… intimate."

Only Stacey Dillson could confuse annoyance with intimacy. "I am not going out with Vince!"

Lola sat up and pushed her legs over the side of the bed, letting them dangle in the air. "Zoey, it's okay. Really. Vince is a great guy, and I don't blame you for noticing that." I was horrified by how sincere she sounded. "I wouldn't mind if you went out with him."

All but fuming, because this was getting too bizarre, I stood up. "Lola, Vince did not ask me out. And I would never go out with him! You never go out with your best friend's ex-boyfriend, it's like an unwritten rule!" I meant to sound generic but felt my internal motives unraveling. I realized too late I'd revealed the source of my recent turmoil (through an ironically similar scenario) and responded with the vigor I'd meant to keep hidden. Startled, I suddenly worried it would be just as obvious to Lola what I was telling her.

The shock on her face told me she had read the underlying message. Her eyes lost all their glow and her small nose fell along with her smile. Lola's gaze was locked on her manicured nails. She couldn't have looked any guiltier had she'd been wearing an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs.

She opened her mouth a few times although no sound immerged. Finally, she replied in a quiet voice, "I just- I was just saying if… if you wanted to go out with Vince it was okay with me."

I returned to sitting on the bed and took a much-needed breath. "I don't want to go out with Vince... Actually he asked me to find out if you wanted to get back together with him."

Lola didn't look at me, although she raised her head. "Oh. Wow, that's- that's great." I didn't buy her reaction for a second though. All the normal flare of her personality seemed to have died completely.

I didn't call her on it, however. This topic had taken the worst possible turn, and I wanted to let it go. I took too much time thinking of something to say, as Lola leapt down from her bunk and slung her purse over her shoulder. "I'm going to go talk to Vince. I'll see you later." She did everything possible to avoid making eye contact as she walked out the door.

I watched her leave, and waited a moment for my emotions to settle. Yet they didn't, and I turned onto my stomach, grabbing my pillow and stuffing it into my face. I growled in distressed frustration, kicking my feet like a four-year-old. It just wasn't fair. I didn't deserve to feel bad for telling Lola she couldn't date Chase. No good person dated the boy her best friend loved!

_She isn't dating him though, _said that stupid, **stupid** voice in my head._ She hadn't even suggested it._

She liked him, though. Enough for Quinn to notice. Briefly I allowed myself to consider that it was simply a crush. Like during her first year at PCA. Had I read too much into this?

I might have been able to believe that, if not for what had taken place. The way she reacted, the hurt in her eyes when I practically demanded she not date Chase told me she felt more than a minor attraction. She was crazy about him, but she didn't pursue him. What kind of friend did that make her?

The same as me- a lonely friend.

**Mind Bending**

What I loved most about the library was that it was always open. Oh sure it was supposed close, but our librarian was getting way up there in her years, and always dozed off at around 9:45 or so and remained slumped over in her chair until late morning. It made researching book reports a lot easier, especially when the senior's history teacher disapproved of citing electronic sources. Honestly, the internet wasn't completely unreliable…

I arrived at 11 o'clock with a large, incredibly caffeinated coffee in hand, and wasted no time in starting my search for books on the Mayans. I actually enjoyed studying other cultures, and had a soft spot for Mayan history. However I couldn't seem to find information on their calendars, and needed that to tie my research paper together. All the books I pulled from the shelf lacked references to how they documented time. Maybe I could find a book that compared the different cultures and their ways of tracking years…

After ten minutes I was close to giving up on this hope. I stared down at the pile of books spread out across the floor, each with their own relationship to Mahan history. There had to be something in them somewhere about-

"Okay, we're alone! Now you have to tell me what's going on!"

I jumped a mile high when I heard the ascending footsteps. Rather than walk out from behind the bookshelf and scold the entering teenagers for yelling, I stood quietly out of sight. I'd recognized the first voice. In fact, I was sure I'd never forget that voice as long as I lived.

"I think you're making too big a deal out of this." The second voice was higher pitched but equally as irritated. Lola stalked into the middle of the library, rested her arms across her abdomen.

"Why would you possibly want to get back together with him? He dumped for you another girl! He's only crawling back to you now because she broke up with him!"

"That is not true! It was several days after our break up before he dated Sandy."

Chase threw his arms up in exaggeration, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, wow, days! My my, that's impressive restraint. Never mind the fact he told you he wanted you to go to Notre Dame with him just weeks before deciding you two should _take a break_. Days, whew. What a dedicated guy. I can see why you want to date him again."

Peaking at them through the shelves, I barely let myself breathe with fear of missing what they were saying. So Lola had gotten back together with Vince... But that wasn't nearly as surprising as Chase's tone. While Chase hadn't been close to Vince even while he was dating Lola, he had never ridiculed the football star to this extent.

"Vince is a great guy-"

"Yeah, but he's a lousy boyfriend to you! I'm not saying you couldn't be friends with him, but he already proven to you he doesn't take your relationship seriously."

Lola seemed to be growing ever the more desperate for a quick answer. She kept her mouth open and hand held high for several second before actually speaking. "Maybe it isn't a serious relationship. Maybe I don't want one. Honestly I-I'd just like to have a fun boyfriend to hang out with before the summer. We won't see each other after that… That way both of us will have a date for the prom."

Holy Cow. I had completely forgotten about the senior prom. But I didn't have time to dawdle on the revelation as Chase spoke up again. "Seriously? The prom? You are dating Vince again so you'll have someone _to go to the prom with_?" He walked up to tower over Lola, giving her what I recognized as his 'you can't be serious' look.

"What's wrong with that?" She challenged, giving a small hop as though to make herself appear taller.

"Because you could take any number of guys who are way better than him."

"Like who? Every guy I know already has a girlfriend. Besides, you don't go to the prom with a friend. Couples go to the prom!"

Chase scoffed. "Right. Say that enough and maybe you'll convince yourself it's true." He combed his fingers though his bushy hair, making a clear effort to keep cool. "You know, you've been acting really different lately and I don't think it's out of line for me to ask why. I mean, I've been spilling my guts to you all year, I've been able to tell you everything, and I thought you could say the same about me…"

Lola's anger seemed to fade immediately. "Chase, I-"

"Go to the prom with me."

In shock, I jerked forward and knocked my knee against the bookshelf. The 'thud' that followed wasn't loud enough to alert anyone of my presence, but hard enough that my leg grew numb and I had to bite my lip not to grunt. I couldn't believe what I had heard. I felt my insides rising up my throat, sure I was going to be sick.

"What?" Lola seemed just as convinced she had heard wrong.

"I asked you to the prom," his every word was enunciated and affirming. "I want you to go to the prom with me."

I was almost expecting her to cry out "yes". So I was dumbfounded when I heard her casual, almost rude response. "Yeah right Chase. We both know you are going to go with Zoey."

_Huh?_ "Huh?"

No longer seeming uncomfortable, Lola stepped back and started waving her wrists in semi-circles. "Everyone knows you and Zoey are going to get back together. It's just a matter of time before you both realize that…"

For a split second I wanted to cry out in happiness. I was so relieved to hear that my best friend had such faith in a relationship she was probably no longer in favor of. This emotion was quickly lost though, as Chase seemed completely off-balance and acting erratic. But Lola could never stop talking when she needed to. "I mean, I know you two broke up because you have your _differences_," (air quotes) "but you said so yourself you still love her. And she's still in love with you. You've been in love with each other since forever! Once she sees that she can't live without you she'll come to her senses; I said so from the beginning. If not before prom, then by next year, when you're not around, she'll realize that she needs you and…"

I couldn't make heads or tails of what she said next, because she lost her English tongue in favor of rattling on in French. Her face was animated and determined, and I could tell from her tone that she was reiterating what she had already said. I imagine she could have continued on all night had Chase not stepped forward and shook her shoulders, as though snapping her from a spell. "Lola!"

The force of his one word made her silent.

Not releasing his hold on her, Chase shortened the gap between them and, out of nervous habit, licked his lips. Gently, not at all how he had spoken before, he explained with a maturity I hardly ever saw in him: "Zoey and I… are not getting back together." Lola tried to interrupt, but Chase shook his head and repeated "no" until she became silent again. "You are right that we broke up because of differences, but these aren't differences like… she roots for the Cowboys and I'm an Eagles' fan. These are our ways of living. Zoey's work means so much to her, and she wants success before she wants a relationship. I soon understood that, and I've come to terms with the fact that that's not going to change.

"And yes, I do still love her. In some ways I'll always love her, but not in the ways I did before… I'll love her like I love video games or potatoes; a love that's natural not romantic. I'm moving on, and I hope she is too. We are not getting back together Lola, and I don't think we are going to the prom together. We are friends again, but I think that would be a bit of a strain on our relationship right now and I don't want to do _anything_ that would jeopardize my friendship with Zoey."

The sickness in my stomach dissolved as my heart shot warmth throughout my entire body. I wanted to rush out and hug Chase, to hold him tight and praise him for being so wise and understanding. Yet under the circumstances, I decided it would be inappropriate.

"So," Chase started, his boyishness returning with his smile, "will you go to the prom with me?"

This time, there was no doubt in my mind that she would say yes. And carefully thinking it over, I allowed myself to consider that perhaps this once it wouldn't be so-

"No."

Okay, apparently I knew **nothing** about my friends.

I saw Chase huff, evidently believing he had made his point clear. "Why not?"

Lola knocked Chase's hands off her shoulder, taking a large step back. "Because I told Vince I'd go to the prom _with him_."

"Who cares?! He lied to you when he told you he loved you! If you break your promise now, then you'll just be even."

_Since when have you been so vindictive_, I couldn't help but wonder. Then again, Chase had always been a stickler for justice.

"I can't go to the prom with _you_, Chase. I just can't. I have to go with Vince."

So captivated with what they were saying, I hadn't realized until now Lola's eyes were leaking. A few tears clung to her cheeks and her eyes were streaked with blood. I noted that her focus was on somewhere else in the room, and knew that was making Chase angrier. He had stated many times before how he thought it only respectful for people to look at those they were talking to.

"WHY? Why do you have to go with Vince?"

"Because Zoey has never loved _him_."

All at once, the words I had spout hours before came back and hit me with the force I knew they'd hit Lola. I gasped lightly as the wind was knocked out of me, and guilty repercussions swept through my veins long before I had the ability to process their meaning. I stared at my two best friends, who stared at each other, and felt reality, the same reality I had been trying so hard to hide from, creep up on me. It came to me, so simple and so obvious, that what was holding Lola back was not Vince or Chase or herself, but me.

Me. The me whom I thought had drifted from her friends' lives, so far gone that she had all but lost them. But it wasn't true. Lola, out of devotion to her best friend, wouldn't do something as simple as go to a dance with fear of what an impact it would have on her. She wouldn't take the chance of feeling any more for Chase than she already did.

I was the reason she was walking away now. The reason she would leave Chase standing alone in the library, confused and distraught.

And in this moment, I realized what she had been truly asking me all along.

_Would you mind…_

…_if I fell in love with him?_

And I had told her yes.


	4. Part 4

**I would like to recognize peachie1st for his marvelous beta-work. It is because of him I was finally able to update. We have one more installment after this. And now that I have a terrific beta, there is only one thing I need to update ASAP... Feedback. I definitely hope this chapter elicts a response from you.**

* * *

**Of Like Mind**

I hit the pressroom light switch after I entered, gently closing the door behind me. Out the window I watched evening fall, taking a moment to celebrate in the day's end. Time stalled on several occasions today, when my thoughts were dawdling on the previous night, on Lola and Chase.

I'd had study hall with Lola this morning, and she was unquestionably evasive. Stacey Dillson had leaned over our table to confirm whether Lola had gotten back together with Vince. When Lola didn't comment, Stacey leaned closer to ask again. Her backpack slid from her lap, and hundreds of cotton swabs spilled all over the floor. Stacey began to cry at the mess and by the time I'd finished helping her collect up every last swab, Lola had departed.

Chase and I shared an after-lunch History class. We sat together as usual, engaging in many rounds of tic-tac-toe, although neither of us spoke. I felt as disheveled as he looked, and in a silent accord we agreed not to ask the other what was wrong.

The rest of the day seemed to wear on at a painfully slow speed. During gym I had to bite my lip to keep from snapping at the coach when she insisted I hadn't run all 10 laps, although I doubted she could count that high. I had to run 3 laps more than everyone else, and as a result of finishing last was instructed to clean up all the equipment the sophomores had left out.

I skipped dinner to retreat to the pressroom, where I knew I could bury myself in work and forget the problems tugging at my heart. It was Sunday night, which meant I had to go over the weekly issue for the next morning.

My staff had left the newsroom door open, knowing their president well enough to anticipate a visit that evening. I threw my knapsack onto a nearby table and plopped onto a swivel-chair in front of the computer. The next day's articles were open on the screen, still and awaiting my approval. I willingly pushed my troubles aside to become lost in their words…

After some time I blinked, taking a conscious breath and pulling my gaze away from the screen. After reviewing the editorials and editing bits here and there, I was satisfied with everything presented, however unsettled by something _not_ present. Rebecca Browning's submission for her advice column was missing. She'd probably forgotten to turn it in.

I had to call her… except I didn't have her phone number. Grr.

Frowning, I began to surf through the 'contacts' list on my phone, hoping to find someone who was close to Rebecca. I almost reached the M's when the newsroom door opened. In walked the 5'6 brunette, adorning a baby-blue "Vegas" top and a jean-skirt that covered half her thighs. "I knew I'd find you here. Having fun pointing out all our mistakes, Zoey?"

I held back the retort that hovered on my lips, instead stating coolly, "Your article is missing."

Rebecca held up a translucent CD case. "That's because it's right here." She tossed the case onto the table next to me, not bestowing me with a glance as she began walking around in her overly sultry manner.

Refusing to appear offended or annoyed by her company, I slipped the data disk into the computer and prepared to go over her article. The file barely had time to load before her arrogant voice rang again. "So, how does it feel? Once again you've retained your hold on Chase. You have this down to an art now, don't you?"

_Don't do it. Don't listen to her. Ignore her and she'll leave._

"Of course, it was probably less of a challenge this time, since your little friend wouldn't dare make a move without darling Zoey's permission. Poor thing probably didn't know she had a better chance of finding a needle in a haystack than receiving your blessing. I wonder how she planned on telling you about her little crush…"

Rebecca's voice escalated an octave as she mimicked Lola. "Hey Zo. Guess what? I'm in love with your ex-boyfriend! I hope that's okay with you, because I've really enjoyed going on secret dates, learning French from him, teaching him yoga-"

"Stop it!" It was so hard to dismiss her remarks, especially when she was breeching on such a sensitive subject with such malicious insight.

Rebecca leaned against the desk beside me, no concern for my personal space or the negative aura I was giving off. She glared down at me with that 'holier than thou' smirk I despised her for. "Uh-oh, have I pressed someone's buttons?"

"You have no right to dictate about my life. You don't know anything about this."

"I'm just looking out for you… You stole Chase from me, and now you steal him from someone else. Theft is a felony, you know."

I turned to face her, not giving her the satisfaction of cowering from her glare. "I didn't steal Chase from anyone. He wanted to break up with you, and…" I couldn't think of what to say regarding Lola.

"And what? And you think he's better off without me?"

"Well yeah, but that wasn't what I was-"

"You just can't help hogging Chase all for yourself, can you? You always have, even before you started dating him."

"Why don't I deserve to be with Chase?" I snapped vehemently, hoping to catch her off guard. But she remained perfectly calm. Rebecca always seemed prepared for anything.

"Because he could be happier with someone else." Her snipe was cold and unhesitant. "And if you really loved him, you would see that, even though he doesn't."

She continued, unconcerned with my lack of response. "Chase is so blind when it comes to anyone's feelings. He didn't even realize I liked him until I kissed him, and that was a whole month after we started hanging out. He is so absorbed with his own emotions that he is oblivious to what others are thinking."

I unintentionally nodded. I meant to say something, and I really tried, but Rebecca looked so resolute that I had no fervor to interrupt.

"Haven't you ever noticed how Chase hates change?" Her question was more of a statement than an inquiry. "He likes knowing what's going to happen to him. He wants everything to be nice and neat, no complications. He once told me that the day he met you he predicted he would spend the rest of his life with you." I felt my face grow hot, disconcerted by how much Chase had revealed to his ex-girlfriend. "He became so revolved around you that… yeah, he became obsessed. Maybe he was in love with you, whatever… that is, until he met me." She didn't bat an eyelash when she added the boast in afterthought.

"I showed him what is what like to have someone reciprocate your feelings. I showed him that it was okay to admit what he felt. I made him feel special, and I can't tell you how happy I was at the end of the summer when he told me he didn't think he loved you anymore."

Despite myself, I twitched uncomfortably.

"Of course I didn't believe him. Especially after I arrived at PCA and you walked in on us. Oh, in that moment I just knew the entire summer I'd spent with Chase meant nothing. This was your territory, and I had no power over Chase here. Of course, I tried to keep him. I tried to distance you from him. Yet, simple-minded, nice and neat Chase Matthews didn't want any complications to his 'love Zoey for eternity' plan. And so came the end of me."

She was doing such a good job of hurting me. Though honestly I didn't believe that was her intention anymore. Rebecca spoke with sincerity too deep to be fabricated, and what was worse: the longer her words had time to seep in, the less ridiculous they sounded.

The hostile brunette broke eye contact, looking to the opposite wall in a foggy gaze.

"I finally figured it out, you know. It's not you he loves anymore or… unfortunately… me. It's love. Chase Matthews loves being in love. It fuels him. I think he was so used to being in love with you that he never considered falling out of it. It was as natural to him as breathing. Love usually is…

"When you two broke up, after you made it clear to him you didn't love him or you were too busy for him or whatnot, you broke your spell over him. And now he's finally free…" Suddenly her cold tone vanished, and a new emotion- dare I say distress? - peaked in her voice. "You just couldn't have let him go two years earlier, could you? I could have been the one who made him happiest."

I truly doubted that, but made no effort to say so. My heart wasn't intent on inflicting more pain.

"Now I'm not the only person Chase can't be with because of you."

Looking down at my lap, I rubbed my thumb over the opposite palm while I tried processing her words. Whenever I talked with Rebecca, I always had to prepare my words to attack or insult her. But this time, without the desire to hurt her, speaking the truth was all I could do. "I didn't mean to do this to Lola."

I felt a small portion of my heart lighten. How good it felt to vent, even to someone I detested as much as Rebecca. "I don't want to make her upset. She's my best friend. I love her like a sister, and I would be supportive of any relationship she had… just not this one."

I waited for the piercing sound of Rebecca's voice to ring as she mocked my admission, but she remained silent, her focus falling to the ground but her body turned at me to suggest she was still listening.

"Why did she have to choose Chase? Why couldn't she stay away from the one guy I ever loved? She could have had anyone! She dated more guys than I have fingers and toes, and she never once told me she felt anything more for Chase than friendship."

Rebecca looked up, her face scrunched together in confusion. "Someone told me they dated for like a week in freshman year."

"Well yeah, but that wasn't anything. Lola said they didn't click…"

"Huh, you mean _he_ didn't click."

I shook my head. "She never mentioned it again. It was just a crush. I didn't even consider that she still had feelings for him after that."

Rebecca sighed before she spoke. "In my experience, feelings don't die. They just remain dormant until something brings them out again. Usually we can suppress our feelings and keep them under tabs. It's the ones we can't control that we have to worry about."

She astounded me. "How do you know so much about all this," I couldn't help asking. I had never realized Rebecca was so knowledgeable, even after reading her newspaper column.

"Oh, believe me, I've made every relationship-blunder in the book. My parents are both psychiatrists, and while I was growing up they were always talking about love and its effect on people. They think they are experts, so they are always trying to butt in to my personal life and fix all my problems for me." One couldn't miss the resentment in her tone.

"It sounds like they care about you."

She gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Uh-huh. Well maybe you see it that way, but in reality, they watch over me to make sure I don't let them down. They want their precious Rebecca to be perfect in every way, and that includes avoiding embarrassments regarding my love life. Never mind that I'm old enough to make my own decisions. The second I make an error in judgment they ship me off to boarding school, where they don't have to worry about me screwing up their lives."

I began to notice I was breathing deeper, and wondered what had gotten me so flustered. Was it Rebecca shedding her prickly skin to reveal signs of humility? I could barely remember my angry feelings towards her as I observed her stepping down from her pedestal to meet me at the bottom. Nothing to lose, I inquired lightly, "What was your mistake?"

She lifted her head, and I could tell she was upset. Water formed a blanket over her eyes, and the inside of her bottom lip was caught in her teeth. For a moment, she simply looked around, and she didn't appear as though she would answer. Just as I opened my mouth to refute the question, the new Rebecca spoke. "I fell in love with the absolutely wrong guy."

Immediately one name came to mind: "Chase?"

At that she laughed. "Oh… no, no… Chase was my rebound guy, actually." She sniffed, pulling herself up to sit on the desk, letting her feet swing. "His name was Randy. I met him at school in my freshman year. He was everything I could have wanted in a guy. Handsome, funny, charming, smart, compassionate…" bliss appeared in her voice as she continued on, "I was crazy about him. But I wasn't supposed to be."

"What was wrong with him?"

Rebecca turned to face me, her face dour but firm. "He was my English teacher."

It took every ounce of self control I had not to burst out laughing. I didn't want to seem cruel, because of course this wasn't a joke, but it was so unexpected that I had to restrain the ticklish sensation bursting inside my throat.

Apparently I didn't hide my laughter well enough. Rebecca's eyes triggered recognition and I thought she was going to bark at me. Instead, to my great surprise, she gave a soft, distant chuckle. "Yeah, well, I didn't think it was that funny at the time… Of course he had no idea how I felt. I was so in love with him though. I did everything I could to be around him. I even cut some wires in his car after school so that he had to stay and wait for a tow-truck. I stayed behind to talk with him."

I really wasn't shocked by the confession. The act had 'Rebecca' written all over it.

"I was so broken hearted when he announced that he was moving to Montana to be closer to his family. I cried for days. My snooping parents kept asking what was wrong, but all they figured out was that I was upset over some guy. That was when my Mom started suggesting more 'outings' with her friends and their sons. That was how I met Chase… We were both getting over someone at the time, and I guess that brought us together."

It was so bizarre to hear about all this, to think that Rebecca, someone I had for years considered a rival, could have such a compassionate side to her. I shifted in my seat, opening my mouth to form mute syllables. "I had no idea…" was all I could muster. A simple half-sentence to sum up all she had said. I felt a familiar sensation rise, one which I would have never before put to this girl: sympathy.

As it turned out, that was not what she wanted. Rebecca snapped her back straight, and the temporarily fallen mask returned over her face. "Well it doesn't really matter now, does it? We can't go back and undo everything bad that's happened to us. Chase was the one guy I could really see myself with. I didn't get to keep Chase because you wouldn't let go of him when he was mine. I won't have that chance again… but someone else might. And now you have the opportunity to do the right thing." As though nothing had changed, as though she hadn't just bared her soul to me, the brunette hopped down from the table and straightened her outfit.

I stared, amazed at how quickly she could shift personalities. "How? I don't even know what the right thing _is_."

Rebecca stared back, and instead of immediately speaking gestured toward the computer. "Why don't you take a look at that article I just submitted? You might find Phase 4 of particular interest." With that too-confident sway of her hips, she turned her back to me and used a lazy "later" to anchor her departure. The door shut slowly behind her.

I took a moment to question whether I had hallucinated the entire event. It was all too… dream-like. Running my hand through my hair, I faced the computer, where Rebecca's article sat open on the screen. In large, bold letters across the top of the document read, "**Coming to Terms: The Core Phases of a Break-Up**".

Below that Rebecca had summarized the steps, and I read each title slowly. _Phase 1, Discovering... Phase 2, Denying… Phase 3, Avoiding..._

And Phase 4…

_Accepting._

**A Wandering Mind**

It was times like 5:48 AM when I wished I didn't need to sleep. I lay awake in bed with my thoughts playing like film against the projector of my eyelids. It was a wonder any senior could sleep in the few weeks before SAT testing. Studying, as well as other concerns left me exhausted by each day's end.

I turned over on my side, blinking against the darkness of the dorm room. The only sound came from Quinn's light snores, which grew louder every time she shifted under the sheets. I propped my head up on my hand to watch her as she giggled in her dream and mumbled to someone named "Albert". I shook my head. For Logan's sake, I hoped she was talking about the dead scientist.

Weary from trying to sleep, I sat up and pushed the covers aside. I swept my palms across my face as I stood and began to search for any type of clothing. Eventually I found a pair of jeans and purple tank-top. I twisted them over my body, flattening the cloth to my skin before reaching for a brush to untangle the night's torment on my hair. Not overly concerned with my appearance (because who was up this early on a Saturday?) I slipped from the room, strolling down the hallway and out the door.

While I enjoyed sleeping in as much as the next girl, I allowed myself a pleasant moment to inhale the morning's perfume of dew, grass and damp concrete. I was always amazed at how different the world looked when one simply removed the flustering people and blinding sun. Everything seemed peaceful and carefree.

I continued my trek across the campus, internally attempting to barricade my thoughts of school and friends behind an imaginary wall, and failing. Alas, nothing seemed to be of my control anymore, not even my wandering mind. I surrendered to the fact that my conscience would not be rid of its guilt until I confronted the source. But far easier said than done, as I was not adamant of any opinion I held on Chase and Lola's relationship. What Rebecca had said the previous week struck my core, and her words were giving me migraines as they echoed loud in my ears. If there was anything I disliked more than my own problems, it was that Rebecca seemed to have all the answers.

The sky was just starting to brighten, night cowering from a sun who peaked above the coast. I slowed my pace when I arrived at my favorite spot on campus, pausing to spot a figure slouched over one of Sushi Rox's outdoor tables. His head was bent over and his facial features covered completely, but I knew that head of bushy black hair better than my own dirty-blonde locks.

"Chase," I called to the boy in shock.

He lifted his head, granting me access to the most beautiful pair of eyes ever bestowed on an individual. He reacted as I did, exhaling my name with a surprise that was quiet but friendly. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I could ask you the same thing." I approached his table to sit next to him.

"It's really quiet at this hour. It's a nice time to get my head together." Chase suddenly grabbed my arm and stood. "Let's walk."

And so we did. I felt as though we had the whole world to ourselves as we strolled together, his arm occasionally brushing mine and causing my heart to stop. I took hold of my right hand with my left to refrain from lacing my fingers with his, and in a final effort to remove myself from temptation took a casual step to the side.

He was the first to speak, as had become the norm since our breakup. "And why are you awake at six in the morning?"

I waited for a lie to form on my tongue, parting my mouth to release whatever excuse arrived first. "I couldn't sleep. I've got too much on my mind." Immediately I frowned. That hadn't been a lie.

Chase looked at me quizzically, continuing to saunter in his individual motion. "School?"

"Among other things." My mind was on overload, too tired to make up fabrications. Suddenly I felt scared.

"Like what?" He inquired, but before he gave me the chance to reply he added, "Guy trouble?"

I almost laughed, instead aiming a confused stare his way. "Hardly," I stated as though the answer were obvious. "Not another guy, anyway." _No! No, I hadn't said that. I take it back, I take it back… _

"Oh," he responded amidst my silent pleas.

Frazzles, why did I have to come out today? Why couldn't I just sleep in like a normal kid?

"How are you doing?" His question came out of the blue.

I knew what he was referring to, but didn't make an effort to reply. Without the clarity to think, I was afraid of what I would say. But when he gently spoke my name with that sweet curiosity, I couldn't refrain any longer. "I'm okay." Yes! A lie! "How about you?"

He only shrugged, which told me he wouldn't lie as I had. He was never a particularly convincing liar anyway.

We continued on in silence, stepping onto the grass and grazing across the lush field. The wind had gotten steadily stronger, and several times I had to push my hair out of my face. Each time I lowered my hand I looked over to see Chase staring at me, his expression completely blank. That was quite a feat for him. Chase had always been easy to read.

"This stinks."

The two words practically knocked me off my feet. I halted my eyes on Chase as he too stopped to turn. His eyes were slightly squinted in an effort to see past the rising sun, but his expression had not faltered.

"What stinks?"

Pushing his hands into his jean pockets, Chase waved his elbows outward. "This. Everything. It was exactly what I didn't want to happen."

I let my head droop, prepared to accept more blame. "I know. I'm sorry. I really don't-"

"It's not your fault," he interrupted, bending over to catch my gaze. I looked up again. "I didn't ask you out for years because I knew that, if the worst happened, I'd lose you for good. I didn't think about losing everyone else too… It would have been best if we had just stayed friends."

"Losing everyone else?"

"You can't say you haven't noticed."

I had noticed. Chase and I were the center of our group, and I had soon determined that by breaking apart, we broke our circle of friends apart too.

"Yeah, I noticed." I took a small step towards him. "But we were all friends before you and I started dating. Why can't it be that way again? Why can't everything be the way it was before?!"

The reaction I received was not at all the haphazard, hopeless response I expected. Instead, it was a reflection of Chase's inner child, a random pick at humor which sent nostalgic jolts throughout my body. "I could call my fairy godmother and ask her to turn us back to pumpkins at midnight…"

For several seconds I stood agape. He had chosen the worst possible time to be corny, and yet the smile that jerked at my mouth was anything but forced.

I prepared to point out his incredible immaturity and inability to remain serious for more than a moment when I heard a sharp, long hiss. I barely had time to jump when I was shot with a heavy, cold sensation from behind. I shrieked, only to be doused by water from several others directions. I fell over in surprise, leaning into Chase's chest as I recognized that the water sprinklers had turned on. Half a dozen were nearby and twisting wildly, completely unaware of our presence and spurting carelessly.

Chase's shirt was already drenched and cold to the touch. I felt an arm wrap around my side and was pushed forward. Chase seemed to gain composure just after I did, screaming over the loud sizzle of the sprinklers: "Go! Let's go!" Together we darted back across the field, sliced with streams of water as we scrambled.

Everything was a blur of tangerine sky, flying droplets and never-ending green grass. We crashed through rainbows formed by the water falling around us, and toppled over a few times due to Chase's clumsy feet. Each time I grabbed his arms to lift him off the ground and we ran again, strands of hair whipping my face and sticking to the sides of my neck.

We rushed onto the patio, coming to stop near a bench. I placed my hand across my heart as I attempted to catch my breath, my throat stinging from restriction of oxygen. After a moment I turned to look over the field. The sprinklers continued to cheerfully dance, completely unaffected by our trample across their turf.

Feeling my heartbeat slow against my chest, I straightened up to look at Chase. He was leaning over the bench, taking deep breaths and shaking his head with disbelief. His hair was, amazingly, even more bushy and disorganized. Grass stains were burned into his clothes and palms, and one lightly inked onto his left cheek. Dirt clung heavily under each of his fingernails, and upon staring down at my own hands, I saw this was also true of myself. My hair felt filthy, and I didn't doubt my head was now home to at least half a dozen mud-infesting bacteria. My poor flip-flops hadn't survived the sprint- the plastic separator of my left shoe had broken from its base, swinging out from between my toes.

I felt a sensation rise deep inside me, a feeling unparallel to any I'd felt within the past several months. Uncontrolled and too strong to contain, it burst from inside of me…

A laugh.

And I couldn't stop. The ticklish impression blazed within my stomach, so strong I placed my arm across my diaphragm to keep myself balanced. My laughter rang even louder as I continued to stare at my partner, drenched to the bone and looking as though he'd been in a brawl with a tractor. I closed my eyes to savor the sensation, completely reveled in the endorphins spilling into my brain. I was alone in my happiness for only a second more before Chase joined in. We took in everything that had happened and released it through our unshakable laughter, so unsteady by the rush of emotion that we shuffled to take each other's hand and hold ourselves upright.

I don't know how long we remained this way, but it was all too short. I used my free hand to rub a tear from my cheek, the first in my life to not result from sadness. I opened my eyes fully to catch Chase gazing at me, beaming as bright as I'd ever seen him. He looked as though he didn't have a worry in the world, and I felt equally as serene.

Ecstasy did not prevent me from noticing, however, what small proximity remained between Chase and me. As he remained in his haven of joy, I felt my heart pucker with awareness.

Suddenly, I knew deep within my soul that if I were to lean in and kiss Chase now, he would not pull away. I knew this with such certainty it was soaked into my being. I knew I could apologize for everything without fear. I could have him back. There was no doubt in my mind Chase would forgive me for not being there as I should have, and the future he'd imagined for us would form before us. We would be together forever, just as soon as I was to tell him I loved him. It was all in my control, all mine to own, if I simply pressed my lips to his…

And I felt like the strongest person in the world when, instead, I backed away from his embrace.

As quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. The vision of what-could-have-been dimmed in Chase's eyes, but his glee was still apparent.

"Well, that was unexpected!"

It took me a second to realize that he was referring to the sprinklers. I broke from my thoughts to rejoin reality, which already felt different against my skin. "Yeah," I giggled consciously after glancing down at my clothes. "I look like a wreck!"

"Not compared to me," Chase picked at his own destroyed attire.

"How were we supposed to know the sprinklers turned on this early? Shouldn't there be a sign or something?" but I was far from complaining.

"Should we go wake up Dean Rivers and ask?"

I burst out in laughter again, lightheaded with growing ease. "He'd probably have a heart attack, seeing us this way. We'd be the Evil Grass Trolls coming to take over the planet!" I raised my arms and curled my fingers, doing a Godzilla impersonation.

We continued to pick fun at ourselves as we made our way back across campus, screaming and running at any early-riser who dared to give us a funny look. All the tension, doubt, and pain between us dissipated so quickly that I could barely recall its presence.

I then came to realize that nothing was really broken. Hearts could be mended and relationships revived. The only difference now was that I was ready. I was ready to face what I'd been hiding from. I was ready to confront fear and challenge its brutality. I was ready to accept destiny and live with the aftermath.

But more than anything, I was ready for healing.

**A Beautiful Mind**

It was the day before SAT testing, but this Thursday would be better remembered as the day Sandy Palmer made a costly mistake.

Sandy was a social climber, who had been thrilled when hot quarterback Vince Blake started to notice her at the beginning of the year. Soon after his break up with Lola, she had made sure she was right at his side to help him pick up the pieces. And soon, Sandy was was bragging to her friends that she was Vince's girlfriend.

But it wasn't meant to last. According to a source close to Sandy, Vince had begun taking interest in Lola again, while he and Sandy were still together. Furious, the drama queen broke up with him in hopes of showing him the error of his ways. The plan backfired, as the football star instead went to back to Lola to see if they could work things out.

From there most students assumed Vince and Lola were crazy about each other, hence their on-and-off stages, and had I not heard Chase and Lola's conversation in the library, I might have assumed the same. In actuality, I figured Lola was with Vince only because she couldn't be with Chase.

Chase and I were as close as second skin once again; everything I could want from a best friend. Lola, on the other hand, had not reconciled with either of us. She kept her distance from everyone but Vince, and before long word-around-the-campus was that they were in love.

This suggestion made Sandy Palmer furious. And not one for subtlety, Sandy chose to make her bitterness known through a well-planned, humiliation-inducing prank.

I had suspected something was up this morning when I spotted Sandy sweet-talking some younger students. I pointed them out to Chase, and he agreed it was peculiar. We approached the students after Sandy departed, but they refused to tell us what she had said. We would find out a few hours later.

Lola was walking outside alone, on her way to lunch, when they struck. I was still in English class and jumped from my seat when I heard her screams. The teacher appeared bewildered and muttered something I didn't catch. The high-pitched squeals were deafening, so theatrical I had no doubt they were Lola's cries. Completely forgetting I was in class, I ran out the building to find her.

When I spotted her in the courtyard, I saw that she was surrounded by six… students?

It was hard to tell who or what they were, because they were all wearing costumes. One was dressed as a chipmunk (or was it a beaver?), another as the grim reaper, a dinosaur, a mummy, a scarecrow, and the Hulk. They had joined hands and formed a circle around Lola, trapping her. They were dancing and chanting loudly, and then laughing as each one took a turn mocking her. Poor Lola was covering her ears and stamping her feet, still shrieking at the top of her lungs. Some would consider such a reaction irrational, but there was nothing rational about Lola's fear of big costumes.

"Hey!" I called out uselessly. A crowd of spectators had formed and it took awhile to weave throughout the groups of peering students. Some were laughing at the spectacle, others looked on with concern.

A wave of gasps came from the spectators when each costumed figure stopped dancing and pulled out an object from underneath their clothing. The shouted in triumph as they shot Lola with ketchup, cheese-whiz, chocolate sauce, crazy string and shaving cream. The brunette held her hands out in a futile attempt to defend herself.

Before I reached her she was colorfully decorated from head to toe.

"Stop it!" I tugged on the scarecrow's shoulder, managing to pull him backward. Without hesitation he turned and squirted ketchup at my chest. He laughed manically when I froze, stunned by the sensation of cold ooze dripping down my shirt. I looked down at my favorite halter-top, completing drenched in red, and felt my anger rise.

"Oh, if you only had a brain…" I threatened in a low voice, taking a small step forward.

I'd never seen a scarecrow run that fast before.

When my attentions returned to the rest of the group, I saw that the costumed figures were being restrained. A teacher had the dinosaur by his forearms, while some football players, all friends of Vince, had the others in headlock. Some of the costumed figures began to whimper, clearly intimidated by the older, much larger athletes glaring down at them. Within the sea of people, Lola sat crouched on the ground, her palms over her ears and eyes squeezed shut.

Instantly I went to her side, grasping her gently. At first she fought me. I identified myself aloud, and after a moment of reassurance Lola willed herself to stand. Neither one of us looked back as I led her away from the havoc and into our dorm hall.

We ignored the startled glances we received walking down the corridor. I kept Lola along the left, steering her away from our dorm room. Instead I ushered her into the bathroom.

Nobody was in the showers, although I don't suspect many showered at noon on a school day. I flipped a light switch with my elbow, and watched rows of lights turn on in a domino fashion, illuminating the large lavatory. There were ten showers on each side of the room. I took Lola to the nearest one and released my hold on her.

"I'll go get your towel and a change of clothes. I'll be right back."

When I returned, Lola was standing under the showerhead, water running like a waterfall down her body. I placed her towel and clothes on a bench, never taking my eyes off her. She still had all her clothes on, and the colors spilling from her hair onto her face made her look like a clown; a tired, pathetic clown.

_How had she gotten here?_ I reflected nostalgically. My best friend of four years, looking hopeless and friendless; like I had felt for a great portion of the year. She had been acting like a zombie, with no emotion and no motivations. And it was partially _my_ fault… Alright, more than partially.

"I'm sorry."

By some freak-of-nature jinx, we said these two words at the same time.

Lola dropped her head forward, spurting water from her mouth and staring agape. "What did you say?"

"I'm sorry," I repeated with the same sincerity.

Her blank expression relaxed into subtle sadness. "It's not your fault. You didn't tell those kids to whirlpool me."

"No. Sandy Palmer did."

Her expression remained the same, but her eyes seemed to fall farther back into darkness. "Ha, one more person who hates me. I suppose I won't be nominated "Most Likeable" by the yearbook committee this year."

"Who else hates you?"

Silence. "I hate me."

I wanted to burst into tears at her confession. She continued to speak though, pouring salt on an exposed wound. "How did I mess everything up? I screwed up my own life, and Chase's and yours. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I don't even remember how it started! But I know it's my fault and… I don't know how to fix it."

"That's how I feel, too." How could this possibly be? How could Lola and I, having taken two separate routes in this maze of complexity, arrive at the same place? "You shouldn't feel that way, though."

Lola shook her head. "Zoey, you have no idea what I've-"

"Yes," I interrupted sternly, "I do. I was in the library the night you and Chase fought."

I watched Lola's pupils triple in size. Her teeth appeared, and they bit down on her lip. I couldn't tell if it was water from the shower dripping down her cheeks, or she was crying. When her voice echoed throughout the room, it was barely above a whisper. "You were there?"

"Yeah…" I gave a whimsical smile. "You know what a study freak I am…" I broke eye contact, shifting my gaze off into space to collect my thoughts. My senses were blurring under her stare, under the strain her sorrow placed on me. Thankfully, she did not try to speak while I composed myself.

When I spoke, I couldn't form but two words: "I _know_."

It felt so powerful for such a small statement. A vague admission on its own, but Lola understood my reference, I could tell. There was a hitch in my breath before I clarified, "I know about you and Chase."

Lola turned and shut off the shower. Her hand remained on the nozzle, as did her focus. "There is nothing going on between Chase and me." Her response was feeble at best.

"Yeah, but you want there to be."

She didn't deny it, and I didn't expect her to. Lola looked up at the ceiling behind me, leaning forward on the wall, possibly to steady herself. I could tell from her eyes that she was off in a distant land now. Her voice suggested as much. "Chase likes fruit loops with his ice cream."

"What?"

She nodded. "Yeah… He's really good at finding mistakes in movies too. You know, like when the camera angle changes and suddenly the cell phone is in the actor's other hand, or their hairstyle is different or their earrings are missing. He notices stuff like that, stuff I completely miss… And I swear he can make anything funny. He can twist things and scenarios so they seem silly and harmless, and when I'm with him it's like… 'How can anything in the world really be bad?'… And he insists on wearing his shoes all the time! He never takes them off! I asked if he had some kind of deformation going on down there, but he says he just doesn't like his feet. He refuses to let anyone see them. It frustrates me so much!" Lola returned then, to the present. Goosebumps rose on her arms from standing wet in the middle of the shower. She faced me, and in the most serious tone I'd ever heard from her, she asked, "Have you ever seen his feet?"

I swallowed. "Yeah, I've seen his feet. He says he has Kevin Spacey feet… They're really rectangular…"

Lola's face drooped. Too late I realized that, once again, I had highlighted my distinct relationship with Chase. Quickly I tried to defend my answer, "It's not like it's a big deal, Lola. He'll show you his feet someday."

For a long moment Lola did nothing. Finally she double-blinked and stood up straight. She exited the stall and lifted her towel in the air, wrapping it around her breast and tying a knot under her arm. "It really doesn't matter."

_Oh, but it does. And you know it._ "Chase just doesn't know how important it is to you. If you tell him he'd-"

"He'd what?! Zoey, none of this makes any difference."

"It can. If you explain to Chase how you feel-"

Content on not letting me finish a sentence, she interrupted again: "Why would I do that? I don't want to alienate him or push him away. It's not like we're ever going to be together like that. You said so yourself that no good friend would fall for her best friend's ex! And you were right! This is all just some stupid mistake, and I promise I won't do anything to hurt your relationship with Chase anymore than I already have."

"Hang on. First off, you haven't done anything to hurt my relationship with Chase. We broke up because of our own problems. It's not as though you stole him away from me. Second, no, it wasn't fair of me to tell you off like I did."

"Of course it was!"

"No, it wasn't! Chase may be my closest friend, but that doesn't mean I own him. And no matter how much I may love him, I don't have any right to say who he should and shouldn't date. Chase is his own person and I have to let him be that person. I wouldn't be any kind of friend if I didn't."

At that moment I felt so much older. I felt as though I had stepped outside myself and seen that, yes, this was the truth. And now I could do something right with this knowledge. Like not let my best friend throw away something special.

"Zoey, Chase and you have always been-"

"Yes, we have. We've always _been_. But now we're something different. We are different people, and we want to live different lives. That doesn't mean we are going to grow apart… It just means we won't be growing together. And…" I felt my heart pour into every word, "I can't think of a more perfect person for Chase to grow with than you."

It was like she burst. Lola gave a squeal and dragged me into a hug. I responded whole-heartedly, squeezing her with equal vigor. We hung there, two friends who had come so far and conquered so much. I heard her say into my ear, "I can't believe I'm friends with someone as unbelievable as you."

I laughed freely. "Don't let Quinn hear you say that!"

"Don't let me hear what?"

We pulled from our embrace to find Quinn standing in the doorway. She took in our attire and raised one eyebrow. Lola and I glanced at each other, realizing that we hadn't really washed off. The ketchup from my shirt now smudged her towel. We burst with anew laughter.

Quinn pursed her lips, surprised by our giggling. No doubt she had noticed our recent tension. But the bright scientist made no mention of what she was thinking. "I came to see if you were okay, Lola. The boys just told me what Sandy did to you."

Lola beamed, no longer fazed by the incident. "Yeah, it was pretty scary. But I'm completely over it now." Her mood was dainty. She started to sway back and forth to a silent rhythm.

"Well, you're a lot more forgiving than the guys are. We're meeting them at nine o'clock tonight, so make sure you two are ready by then."

"Ready?" I questioned. "For what?"

There was something devious in Quinn's smile, something I had always attributed with Logan. "Payback." The grin remained on her face as she exited the bathroom.

Lola and I looked at each other with matching expressions of bewitched, bothered and bewildered. "Payback?" She laughed. "What do you think they have planned?"

I shook my head. "No idea. But I'm so glad we're on their side!"

Slipping off her towel, Lola began to remark on Sandy Palmer's potential fate when she stopped, remembering something. "Oh my gosh, Zoey! We can't pull a prank tonight! We have SAT testing tomorrow!"

She was right. I had completely forgotten. For a fraction of a second I began to prepare my apology to Quinn and the guys. _I'm so sorry everyone, but SATs are tomorrow and I just have to study… _

But as quickly as the thought arrived, it evaporated. "It's okay. We'll get back in time to cram if we have to."

Lola looked as though she'd seen a ghost. She jumped forward and shook my shoulders. "What have you done with Zoey Brooks?! Give me my best friend back! Let her go I tell you!"

"Stop it!" I pushed her away none too gently.

"But seriously, Zo. You don't have to do this. We all understand that you don't want risk missing SAT questions because you didn't study tonight."

My smile didn't falter as I responded in private irony. "I don't mind."

* * *


End file.
