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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Chapter Notes:
For fireworkfiasco, who gave the prompt at the beginning of the story.  Thanks to Bennie for beta.

 

 

Fumbling his confidence
And wondering why the world has passed him by
Hoping that he's bent for more than arguments
And failed attempts to fly, fly...

 

Not that he's taking notes or anything, but she's only said four words to him all day (hey, Jim? and no, thanks) and sometimes he wonders if she can see right through him. When she gets quiet, he doesn't know what to think and he feels more and more transparent every day, like pieces of whatever it is that's keeping her from knowing are gradually chipping away and leaving little windows that she can look into, hitting her with oh, now I get it.

Maybe she already does get it.

He gathers up enough resolve to ask her what's wrong, bracing himself for I thought you said it was a long time ago; as he asks, he clenches his jaw, but it's been tight for weeks anyway.

Instead, she proves him wrong again (and he's lost count by now) by saying that the truck got a flat tire on the way to work this morning and Roy left the spare in the garage and then yelled at her when she said maybe they should call Triple-A.

And that's all it is, yet he has to bite his tongue to keep from saying things like this is why you should and you know I'd never.

So he impresses himself with his generic condolences and his bad hitchhiking joke and she laughs, says thanks for listening and he gets his Best Friend Ever award for the day (he's lost count of those, too). Still, her smile fades and her eyes focus on his. He gets nervous again, and it's like they're competing for who can hide the most and who can say the least.

He knows he's winning.

She doesn't say much the rest of the day, and he's not sure if it's because of the flat tire or if it's because she's reading into glances that last seconds too long, or the trembling of his fingers when he reaches for his messages. And he keeps waiting for you told me you were over it so that he can strike back with I had to lie because.

Today's as good a day as any for the game to be over.



69 cups of noodles is the author of 31 other stories.
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