Heartbeats Away From Disaster

Frowning, I swirled the contents of my drink around and then sighed heavily. Shaking my head in confusion, I groaned slightly and then set my glass down on top of the table.

"I don't know what to say to him though, Matt." I whispered. "What if everything goes all wrong, and he ends up hating me? What if he never wants to speak to me again? What if - "

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Matt said gently, placing a hand on top of mine to calm me down. "You and I both know that Craig isn't going to hate you simply for asking him or talking to him about your guys' relationship." He reasoned. "Don't start freaking out about it, Mitzi."

"I'm just so scared though, Matt." I confessed to him. "I'm just scared to lose my best friend. A part of me just wants to keep my mouth shut and ... " I trailed off, shaking my head once more.

"Mitzi, you and Craig need to sit down and talk about what's going on between you two." Matt said gently. "Don't talk about just keeping your mouth shut about it; you two need to straighten out what's going on with you guys. Are you just friends? Does he want something more? You just have to ask him, Mitzi."

"Shit." I muttered to myself. "I seriously hate talking about this kind of shit. You'd think that it'd be easier for me, since we've already been through this whole dating thing, but, for some reason when it comes to Craig, I never seem to be able to get the right words together and say what's on my mind."

"You love him." Matt pointed out.

"I do." I confessed. "But, right now I don't know if I love him, or if I'm in love with him."

"Maybe you should reconsider what I suggested the other night." Matt said slowly.

I raised an eyebrow, indicating for him to remind me what it was he suggested.

"Maybe," he paused momentarily, quietly thanking the waitress who set down our refills of Pepsi beside us, "maybe," he repeated, "what you and Craig need is a little time away from each other. You know, you trying to date someone else and see how it works out. Make Craig realize what he's really missing out on, just messing around with you and stuff." He reminded me.

"Oh, yeah." I mumbled. "that suggestion."

"Mhmm," he muttered, taking a sip of his drink, "that one."

Sighing quietly to myself, I grabbed my used straw from my now empty cup and stuck it into my second cup, mixing around the blocks of ice, causing them to clink off of the glass. In three days, the guys would be kicking off the start of yet another one of their tours. Their break between this tour, and their last tour was three weeks long, and during that time, Craig and I have 'hung out' every other day.

Throughout the course of these past three weeks, I've been contemplating on how I was going to approach Craig about what I needed to talk to him about. Before I had always been arguing with myself as to whether or not I was actually going to tell him; now, I was arguing with myself about how. There's no questioning it anymore, I had to do something, I had to say something, otherwise I would end up in a grave six feet deep that I would never be able to claw my way out of.

"When do you guys fly out?" I asked quietly.

"We fly out tomorrow night to New York City," Matt said, "we got some interviews to take care of before we kick off the tour."

Chewing my lip slightly, I thought to myself. "Well ... tonight then." I whispered to myself.

"Tonight?" Matt questioned.

"I'm going to talk to him tonight." I whispered. "After I head in to the office to finish up the last minute details for a party, I'm going to go over to his apartment and talk to him."

"Just remember Mitzi," Matt said, squeezing my hand tightly, "don't hold back anything, tell him exactly how you feel, don't be afraid of telling him anything."

"I'll try." I whispered.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Slowly, I made my way through Craig's apartment complex, all the while running my 'speech' over and over in my mind. My stomach was a ball of nerves, and already I was feeling my heart starting to pitter patter behind my rib cage. I knew I was going to have a harder time talking about this with Craig, than I would have making a speech in front of hundreds of people at one of our charity events.

Along the way, I ran into one or two of Craig's neighbors and greeted them with a friendly hello before continuing my way to his apartment. All too soon, before I had a chance to run through my 'plan' one last time, I raised my hand and knocked softly on Craig's door.

I heard the music playing inside, as well as the sound of heavy things being moved around. When I knocked, though, there was a loud thud, a few choice words, and then a few seconds later I heard the dead bolt being slid out of place.

The door cracked open slightly, revealing Craig's blue eyes. His eyes widened slightly in surprise before a smile pulled across his lips as opened his door up all the way.

"Mitzi, what are you doing here?" He asked, holding his hand out to mine.

Silently, I slipped my hand into his and he pulled me inside his apartment, locking the door behind us. Before I had a chance to say anything, he leaned over, catching me in a passionate kiss. I kissed him back for a few seconds and then pulled away from him, looking up into his eyes.

"I gotta talk to you." I said quietly.

"Oh, can it be while I pack?" He asked.

"Pack?" I repeated.

Craig nodded his head and motioned to the couch where his luggage was lying open, already half filled with clothes.

"But, you're guys aren't leaving until tomorrow night I thought." I frowned.

"Oh, no no, we had a couple more interviews squeezed in tomorrow, so we're leaving tonight instead." He explained. "We got the call like around two or so, didn't Matt tell you that?"

I shook my head. "I saw Matt at lunch," I sighed, "he must have got the call after I already left."

"Oh," Craig sighed. He leaned over, kissing my cheek gently before he released my hand and started bustling around his living room once again.

"What time is your flight?" I asked.

"Um ... in three hours." He replied. "I still have to finish packing, and I can't find anything that I want to bring with me." He huffed.

With that, he disappeared from the living room and hurried down the hallway to his room, most likely searching frantically for whatever it was that he wanted to bring. I bit my lip, contemplating as to whether or not I should go back there and just talk to him in his room.

When I came over here, I wasn't planning on him rushing around, hurrying to get this things packed; I thought I had at least the night to talk things over with him, but he had a flight to catch in four hours time. It was most likely that they had to arrive at the airport two hours prior to their flight just to check in, add another half an hour on top of that just to get to the airport from here; it was highly probable that at the rate Craig was going right now, he would be cutting things close.

At that moment, he came walking back into the living room, carrying a bunch of random things in his arms, setting them onto the couch before he carefully began packing them into his luggage as well.

"I'm totally freaking out right now." He mumbled. "I can't find my photo album."

He never left for tour without making sure he had his photo album, a collection of us and our friends over the years. A lot of the people in it were no longer with us, or now lived far away, so to remember them Craig kept some of his most cherished pictures in a small photo album, one of his most priceless possessions.

"Where did you last have it?" I asked, getting up to help him look for it.

"I don't know," he frowned, "remember we were looking through it the other night? I don't remember what I did with it after that."

"It's probably somewhere here in the living room then." I assured him. "I'll find it for you, keep packing. Your ass is gonna be running late if you don't hurry up." I added.

Craig mumbled a faint 'thanks' before he disappeared back into his room. With that, I began searching through everything in the living room, all the while thinking about how I should start the conversation. At work, I had run through things over and over in my mind and it seemed flawless then, but now that I thought back upon it, I couldn't remember a single thing that I was going to say.

Sighing quietly, I let the music consume my thoughts instead. I recognized it to be some of the rough demo cuts that the band had been working on lately.

Finally, moving aside a stack of books, I found Craig's photo album underneath the couch. I grabbed it, dusted it off, and stood up just as Craig came back in, packing his laptop case and some other various things he needed.

"Found it." I smiled, holding it up. "It was under the couch."

"Oh shit, thank you so much babe." He said. He kissed me quickly before he took the album and carefully placed it in his luggage, along with the rest of his things. After about a minute, he zipped up his luggage and turned back to me. "Well, that's it." He said softly.

Glancing at the clock, I saw that Craig had just twenty minutes to get to the airport before the rest of the guys started to call him, asking where he was.

Gently, Craig took my hands in his, squeezing them softly. "I have to get going, babe." He said quietly.

I shook my head, holding tightly to his hands. "Not yet." I whispered.

"Babe," he frowned.

My emotions getting the best of me, I felt two stray tears fall from my eyes and roll down either side of my face. "I don't want you to go, Craig."

Craig released my hands and nodded his head. "Okay, okay." He said gently, wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulders. "I can stay for a little while longer, but then I have to go, okay?"

"Kay," I mumbled into his chest.

"C'mon, let's lay down on the couch, babe." He whispered.

With that, Craig removed an arm from around my shoulder and tugged his luggage off of the couch, letting it slide down to the floor before he sat down, and gently pulled me down onto his lap. Holding my body against his, he laid us down and stretched the full length of the couch.

Silently, he began placing soft, gentle kisses on my forehead, while one hand brushed slowly through my hair. Sighing quietly, he stopped his kisses and rested his cheek against mine. I reached up and placed my hand on the other side of his face, keeping him close to me.

"You need to shave." I mumbled.

"I know," he said quietly, "I'll shave when I get to New York." He fell silent for a few seconds before he added, "now what did you want to talk to me about?"

I lowered my hand and shrugged my shoulders slightly. "We don't have enough time to talk about it right now." I muttered. "I was thinking that you were leaving tomorrow, not tonight."

"Just tell me." He said gently.

"Fine," I whispered, "I want to talk to you about us."

Slowly, Craig sat up a little so he could look at me. "Us?" He asked hesitantly. I nodded my head, and a look of confusion crossed his face. "What do you mean?"

"What do you," I struggled around, searching for the right words, "'consider' us?"

Craig frowned slightly as he though to himself. "Well, you're my best friend, Mitzi." He paused momentarily, his face more confused than ever. "Is ... is that what you mean?"

"Not necessarily," I mumbled, "but if that's all that comes to your mind, then I guess that answers my question."

I made a move to sit up, but Craig's strong arms held me in place beside him. "Tell me what you mean, then, Mitzi."

"Not now, Craig, we don't have enough time."

"Mitzi," he frowned, "tell me."

His blue eyes burned intensely into my own, and for a second I considered spilling out everything to him. For some reason, though, I couldn't find the connection from my brain to my vocal cords, and the only thing that began to spill were the hot, salty tears that fell from my eyes. Craig's face fell at the sight of them and in an instant his fingers were at my face, wiping the tears away.

"Shh," he cooed, "Mitzi, what is it? Babe, please don't cry." He begged. "Is it because you don't want me to leave?"

Sniffing back some tears, I shook my head.

"Do you want to go with us this tour?" He asked. "If you do, I can push back an interview and that'll give you enough time to pack and - "

"I can't." I mumbled. "I have to work."

"Well," Craig paused for a moment, wiping away some more tears, "sweetheart, tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."

"Craig," I whispered, "I love you."

Craig stared at me, not moving a single muscle for a few seconds before he snapped out of his daze and resumed wiping away my tears.

"I know, babe," he said softly before he leaned down, pressing his lips to mine. "I love you too." He whispered as he pulled away.

I knew that Craig wasn't on the same page as me. At least, if he was, he was certainly doing a good job at acting like he didn't know what I was talking about. Perhaps Matt was right; maybe Craig was in denial about everything that was going on between me and him.

"Sweetheart, I have to get going." He mumbled. He kissed away the last of my tears before he sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Are ... are you sure you don't want to go with us?"

"I can't." I repeated.

Frowning to himself, he nodded his head all the same and then leaned over, kissing me one last time. He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly. "I'll call you when I get to New York." He whispered.

"Sure." I mumbled, knowing very well that he won't. He never calls, unless he's shit faced somewhere at four o'clock in the morning.

Sighing heavily, he released me and stood up, grabbing his sunglasses from the coffee table and put them on. I watched as he grabbed his laptop case, sliding the strap over his shoulder, and then grab a hold of his luggage.

"You can stay here as long as you want, babe," he said softly, "just make sure you lock up when you leave."

Silently, I nodded my head and then rolled over on the couch, my back to him. I heard him sigh quietly and then muttered a few incoherent words under his breath. "Goodbye Mitzi." He said, his voice just above a whisper.

"Bye." I replied, my voice barely audible even to myself.

A second or two later I heard the door open and then close once more, indicating that I was now all alone in this entire apartment. And alone I would remain for the next three months, until the guys returned home.

I was so close to finally talking to Craig, but when I realized I only had a few minutes to speak with him, I knew I was going to have to wait. If I tried to force everything, and tell him how I felt, I knew he was going to think about it constantly all the while he was away. He'd worry, he'd fuss, his anxiety problems would hit an all time high. I didn't want that to happen, I didn't want him to leave home on a bad note.

So instead, I swallowed everything down, and just admitted to him the main thing I had wanted to tell him: that I loved him.

Today at work, somewhere between confirming RSVP's to the grand opening of the restaurant and hiring a bartender for a separate event, I realized something. Something that I had been trying to figure out since Craig and I started messing around. I didn't just love him, I was actually, full blown, head over heals, romantically cliché in love with the boy. Admitting this to myself only made it harder to talk to Craig about what we were becoming, harder because then I'm faced with the heartache that what would consume me if I were to be rejected by that same person I was in love with.

Sure Craig had told me he loved me too, but I didn't know whether or not he meant it. I certainly liked to think that he did, but when it comes to a boy like Craig, nothing is ever for certain.