The Lace Masquerade

December 4, 2010
12:25 PM
Location: Still at The Dot
Feeling- I still want to bang my head into the wall.

It took me a few hours to realize that my plans for the night had just been dropped without a second thought by Fitz. I was literally about to text him to bitch him out when I got a text from Andrea. Yeah. Fitz’s mom.

Hey Hollie! I guess Fitz is having one of his friends over tonight to watch wrestling, and Ben is staying at work late. I was going to start on a big batch of spaghetti sauce for when my sister’s family comes in next week. You wanna come over and help?

I replied with a quick I’d love to! I’ll be over at about six-thirty? And then went straight to text Fitz. I’ll see you tonight.

What? He replied almost immediately as I walked to my seventh period. I’m hanging with Adam tonight.

Oh, I guess your mom didn’t tell you-I’m hanging out with her tonight. That sure got him talking.

I showed up at around six. I had some Chem homework to work on before I forgot how to do everything. Andrea was already starting to cut everything up when I got there. I threw my purse over one of the backs of a chair at the bar and approached her.

“Hollie, darling!” She pulled me into a small and easy hug, careful not to wipe her pepper-seed covered hands on my sweater. I laughed and hugged her back, before she turned back to her cutting board and opening a drawer just beneath it, pulling out a large knife similar to the one she already had laying out. “There’s another cutting board right behind the mixer,” she said, gesturing to the orange standing mixer I loved so much. I pulled the wooden board out and she set an onion the size of a large softball on top of it. “I like to do larger chunks in my sauce, but go ahead and cut it however you want to. There’s one more over here when you’re done.” I looked down at the onion, and then, gritting my teeth, picked up the knife and started cutting. “So do you know this Adam boy that’s here?” My eyes widened. I hadn’t realized he was already here. I regained my normalness as quickly as possible and nodded.

“Yeah, actually. He’s one of my best friends.” She glanced at me then, pushing a pile of half-inch cubes of bell pepper across her board.

“Does he know about-

“Nope.” I let out a laugh. “Pathetic, huh?” She laughed too, though there was more pity in it than anything. “I don’t think he’s even realized we’re friends yet. He and the rest of my friends think the only reason I associate myself with Fitz is when I have a project or days like today, when he takes in stray puppies like Adam.” She raised an eyebrow at me, and I reached for the second onion, pushing the cubes of onion over on my own board. “Adam and our friend Eli had a fight about him spending too much time with his…well, his girlfriend, for all intents and purposes, Clare.” I shook my head. “You met them, actually. On Halloween. My friends, the boy with long dark hair and the girl with the choppy curls.” She stopped cutting for a second, and then she nodded, her eyes going wide.

“I knew there was a reason Adam looked familiar!” she said, brandishing the knife in the air. I moved over a few inches to avoid getting sliced open like the third pepper she’d just cut apart. “He seems as sweet as can be-he’ll be a good influence on Mark, just like you.” She smiled and bumped my hip, and I bumped hers back, laughing. There were three things going through my head at that moment; all very different, but all relatively rational. The first was a feeling of caring; I wondered why I hadn’t had any times like this with my own mother-hip bumping and vegetable chopping. Probably because my mother didn’t cook, or like to draw any attention to her lower half, which she deemed extremely in-proportionate to the rest of her body. But also because, well, while she was my mother, she wasn’t really one of those TV moms-the ones that pack your lunch and have long talks about life lessons. Hell, the only time she ever cares about where I was going and who with is when there’s a chance it’ll end up online and she’s worried it’ll cause a fuss she’ll have to, and I quote, “clean up.” Because I cause so many of those. My brother, maybe, but she’s since left him behind to be dealt with by the family publicist back in LA.

My second thought was to wonder how she would think of me if she found out how much of a bad influence I was on her son. I mean, sure, in the time I’d spent with him he’d pretty much stopped doing hard drugs (not that he’d done much before) and was slowing down on the weed and boos, but in the last week or so we’ve made out more than we have in the almost month since we started dating. The third was more of a passing thought-a moment of over-thinking and then it was gone. Did she realize the connection between Adam, Fitz and myself? That Adam was the boy Fitz’s friend had thrown into a glass door, leading to his suspension-the reason I’d come storming in the first time I met her? My logic told me no, because she wasn’t currently offering Adam exorbitant amounts of baked goods and lemonade like I would in her situation. And then, after the passing moment, I remembered that she didn’t know. Ben had covered for Fitz.

It took us less than twenty minutes to get everything together for the sauce. She’d already started browning some ground sausage and beef in a large stewing pot before I got there, and as we finished chopping the veggies we threw them in, followed by large amounts of fresh, halved tomatoes (to be broken apart after cooking), a few bay leaves, and a large amount of seasonings. “Here,” she said, pulling a few glasses out of the cupboard and putting some ice in them. She gathered a bag of chips and an assortment of freshly made cookies from a plate on the counter and put them on a tray similar to what waiters use in restaurants. “Take this up and hang out with them for a little bit. The sauce will be ready to eat in about an hour; after eating we can watch a movie or something.” She gave me a small smile and handed me the tray. I balanced it on my hand and shoulder, carefully working my way up the stairs. It’s a miracle I didn’t spill it. When I got to the door of the media room, I looked through the window; they were both seated on the couch, and the TV was at a near deafening level.

“Knock, knock,” I said, walking in the tray. Fitz was the first to turn around, and he gave me a sly smile over the top of the couch.

“She does room service now, huh?” I narrowed my eyes at him and set the tray down on the table in the corner of the room. Fitz stood up, and Adam turned to look behind the couch in time to see me look up. His eyes visibly widened.

“Hollie? What’re you doing here?” I handed each of them a glass and threw one on the table in between them for me, heading mechanically for the fridge as Fitz followed.

“I was making pasta sauce with Andrea-Fitz’s mom. She told me to come chill will y’all for a little bit.” Fitz smile as I pulled out one regular Coke, an RC and a Dr. Pepper, but Adam gave me a look that clearly said he did not understand anything we were talking about. I walked back over and set the soda on the table, looking at Adam. “Me cook with Fitz’s mom. Me have nothing to do. Me walk upstairs and come sit with you till dinner be done.” A mix of caveman and old English, I have no idea what came out of my mouth, but it made him laugh, and he seemed to understand. I plopped down on the couch next to Adam, and Fitz reached forward, handing each of us our sodas. I glanced up at the TV, just as some large, sweaty man was thrown onto the mat.

“Ooh!” both boys called out in unison. I looked at them and laughed, and at that moment knew that I would not understand anything going on. I pulled out my phone, realizing for the first time how many texts I’d accumulated in the hour or so I’d been there. There were eight messages in total. Two from Fitz; Where are you? and Let me know when you’re done cooking. One from Eli; If you talk to Adam let me know. As if that’s going to happen. One from Adam; Hey I’m heading over to Fitz’s to watch that match later. You want me to come over and help with Algebra after? I deleted that one with the first three, and looked up at the boy sitting on my right. When Adam was here, next to me, in the same room as Fitz, there was something different about him. He seemed a little less relaxed than he usually was; glancing out of the side of his eyes at Fitz like he was making sure there wasn’t a blow or joke coming towards him. I tucked the thought to ask him to walk back to the house with me in the back of my mind and went back to my texts. There were three from Clare; Are you seriously going to cook with Fitz’s mom? I’d told her about Andrea’s question as we headed to history that day, the first time I’d been able to see her without Eli or Adam flanking one of us. Eli wants me to ask you to call one of us when you see Adam. Like that was going to happen. And finally, I hope everything goes okay tonight. The last one made me smile a bit, and was the only one I replied to.

Thanks.

The last one was a bit unexpected. It was from Declan. So I’m assuming you’re not attending this little girls night Fi and Holly J are kicking me out of the house for? I tilted my head at my phone, racking my brain for any mention of a girl’s night, but none came.

I guess not. They never told me.

Any chance I can come by and hang out then? Sav’s with Peter at some concert thing and I don’t really feel like drowning out my loneliness with foreign films. Again. I glanced at my surroundings; at Fitz and Adam’s semi-inattentive faces as they watched the match on the TV.

I’m with Fitz and Adam; sorry! I put my phone away after that, trying to concentrate as much as possible on the match in front of me while simultaneously keeping Adam from seeing the way Fitz was toying with my hand on his side of the couch. Finally I pulled a blanket out from the open-able ottoman on the other side of the room and covered myself with it, pulling my knees to my chest and snuggling into them as Fitz’s thumb ran over the hemline of my sweater on my arm. Half an hour later, I got a text from Andrea. Pasta’s ready! Bring the boys down!

I let out a small groan, throwing my head back. I’d practically grown into the couch, and unfolding my legs after that long was an achy process that was in no way fun. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Ooh,” Adam said, rubbing his hands together and standing up, offering me a hand at the same time as Fitz. I glanced at Fitz but took Adam’s just to be on the safe side. I lead them down to the kitchen, where Andrea was already piling spaghetti into bowls. She smiled when she saw us and handed me a big spoon, gesturing to the large pot on the stove.

“Just give it a stir to get all the big stuff on the bottom and it should be good.” I did what she asked, and each of the boys lined up next to me, holding out their bowls of pasta as I spooned heaps of sauce onto them. Without even waiting to be at a table; Fitz gabbed four forks from the drawer, setting two down on the counter for us and handing one to Adam, digging into his pasta. He shook his head, chewing the first bite with intense satisfaction.

“Man, I can never get sick of you guys’ cooking,” he said, looking down at his bowl and stirring the contents around. Adam, who was just slurping up his first bite, looked at all of us.

“You guys do this a lot?” I shot a searing glance at Fitz and then looked to Andrea for a bit of help.

“Hollie’s a whiz at cooking,” she said hurriedly. “She comes over to help sometimes when we’re entertaining big group.” I gave a shy smile and shrugged, trying to play the whole thing off.

“Just keeps my hands busy.” I smile at everyone, and Adam seems relatively convinced, so I drop the entire thing. “I’ve got a little surprise for you,” I said, turning to Andrea and pulling my bag up from under the counter. “I remembered you mentioning your little, uhm…” I glanced at the two boys in the room, and cupped my hand around my mouth to block out my words. “Cougar crush on Taylor Lautner the last time I was here.” I gave a small smile as both boys, who heard what I said, made faces and swiftly excited the room, Fitz throwing me a small smirk over his shoulder. I rolled my eyes and blew him a silent kiss before I turned back to Andrea. “So I come bearing a present!” I dug in my bag until my hand grasped the cold plastic, and I pulled the case up into her line of sight. Her eyes widened, and she looked at me.

“But…it doesn’t come out till tomorrow!” I let out a laugh and leaned against the counter, sliding it her way.

“Never under-estimate the power of PR.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “They sent my dad three advanced copies last week-one for me, one for mom and one for my brother. But since my brother’s neither a fan of the books nor of Kristen Stewart’s-he thinks she’s one of the most unattractive females ever, and I must agree with him-he had no use of it. So Dad sent them all to me. Mom hates vampires, so I gave her copy to Clare yesterday.” She examined the DVD in front of her with still wide eyes. “Just consider it a thank you for keeping our cover.” I gave her a small smile, and she came around and gave me a hug before putting together two more bowls of pasta.

And so, we spent the next two hours watching one of the many banes of my existence, Eclipse.

Adam finally left around 10:30 with the promise to meet Fitz and I for lunch the next day at The Dot for lunch and to work on some grammar stuff Ms. Dawes had assigned during English, and the second he was out the door I collapsed against the wall with a huff of relief. Fitz, standing not a foot away, let out a laugh, and I smacked him across the chest before laughing too and going to give him a small kiss. We both walked into the kitchen to find Andrea cleaning up, and I made a move to help her but she waved me off. “You two go spend some time together; I’ll be down here fawning over the special features.” She gestured to the TV in the living room, where the Eclipse menu was still playing with no sound. I let out a laugh and took Fitz’s hand as we walked upstairs, collapsing on the couch with two large huffs. I fell against his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat out of one ear and his channel surfing with the other.

“Wait go back!” I said as he passed BBC. He looked down at me with narrowed eyes but went back up, settling on an episode of Doctor Who. I smiled and watched the TV as he set the remote down and his fingers immediately fell to my head where they played in my hair.

“Why are we watching Doctor Who?” he asked, looking at the TV. The Doctor and Donna were in Pompeii, trying to evacuate people before the volcano went off.

“Because I want to.” He let out a little laugh, making my head move with is chest, and I smiled. “You and Adam seemed to get along pretty well tonight.”

“He’s a cool guy,” Fitz replied simply, and I looked up at him. His face was calm; serene. But he was smiling. “I just don’t know how long it will last.” I pursed my lips, thinking for a moment. He had a point; eventually Adam would take Eli’s apology or something will happen to make he and Fitz fight.

“Why don’t we just relish in the fact that one of my friends actually knows we get along right now,” I said, leaning back into his chest. He pulled me up a moment later, my face almost even with his, and kissed me long and hard. The kiss said everything he couldn’t, just like it always did.

December 10, 2010
12:32 PM
Location: The Dot
Feeling-exasperated

What in God’s name. Like, really. I think Adam has lost his marbles. There are quite a few things going on at the moment, but I’ll start with the largest news.

After eating a light lunch at the Dot on Saturday, I tore off my high waisted shorts and tights, throwing on a jersey dress and running back over to Fitz’s before the new episode of Fringe came on. When I got to the house, however, what was waiting for me was not a bowl of all natural popcorn and Fitz in his usual sweats and a tight tee. What I found was Andrea sitting with a full spread of makeup and other beauty tools splayed out across her kitchen table, with a garment bag hanging on the back of the chair.

“What’s going on?” I asked, completely and utterly confused.

“Mark has a bit of a…surprise for you.” She gave me a sly grin, holding out her hand. I hesitantly put my own in it, and she pulled me down into the seat in front of her. I set my bag down and looked up at her.

“What exactly is all this for?”

“Well, you can’t very well go out in public looking like Hollie Peterson. So my job is to make you look…not like Hollie Peterson.” From out of a box on the table she pulled out one of my wigs I’d stashed in my room upon moving here; long, blonde and completely real (yeah, it weighs a ton), I use the wig when out in public with friends sometimes in case of paparazzi mishaps. Dinners for birthdays just aren’t the same when you’re being asked for autographs. Sure, I love my fans, but not all my friends understand the constant interruptions. Suddenly, Andrea shoves a pair of track shorts and one of Fitz’s button up’s in my face. “Go change.” I raised my eyebrows at her but took the clothes anyways, changing into them and coming back to sit down.

“Where exactly is Fitz?” I watched Andrea smile to herself as she pulled towards me, squirting a bit of lotion on her hand before she replied.

“He’s getting things ready for tonight; he’s been planning this for almost a week, Hollie. Really. I’ve never seen him this excited about something.” I felt my eyebrows knit together as she rubbed some moisturizer into my face, realizing for the first time that the products on the table were all mine. The things I use on a daily basis. Olay. BareMinerals. Bad Gal lash. “He’s had us all in on it; me, your mom. Even Ben helped out a bit.”

“And you can’t tell me anything?” She smiled, pulling out a bottle of primer and squirting the tinniest bit onto the tip of her finger.

“Not a chance.” For the next hour and a half, she poked and prodded at me with makeup, tweezers, pencils and curlers of every sort. Before she put my makeup on she slid a wig cap over my mess of a bun, tucking in every loose hair. Once she’d finished with my base makeup, she applied a bit of wig tape to the cap and set the blonde wig on my head, coming around front to straighten it. Twenty minutes later she’d finished my eyes and was curling the ends of my hair in when the door opened and closed, and Ben’s voice echoed through the entry way.

“T-minus ten minutes!” he called out, and Andrea’s eyes widened, and she looked at me and then at her husband as he walked through the door. He smiled at both of us, and then looked at his wife. “You’ve got maybe ten minutes. He’s just behind me.” With another glance at me, she walked wordlessly over to the chair with the garment bag and picked it up, thrusting it at me.

“Change into this; everything else you need is in there-and be careful!” I walked quickly to the bathroom upstairs, shutting the door behind me and hanging the garment bag on the towel rack. Without even glancing in the mirror behind me, I slid open the zipper to reveal a dress in the palest shade of blue-a color somewhere between the sky and my room. It was a simple dress-a solid color with barely any detail save the pearls around the sweetheart neckline. But the way it was fitted just under the bust-how it kind of went out at the bottom-the thick straps. It was almost as if…no. I pulled it carefully off the hanger and glanced at the back. No tag. No sign of a tag at all. I examined the stitching; machine done, no doubt. But the way the straps had been stitched to the bust. The careful consideration of the placement of the beadwork.

Andrea had made this dress. There was no other explanation. She’d made it especially for me, and at that, I had no idea what to say.

At the bottom of the bag sat a pair of pantyhose, my white peep toe pumps and a white cropped ¾ sleeve sweater. I smiled to myself-she really had gotten my mothers help. I slid the dress on, marveling at how it fit my body so perfectly. The pantyhose, shoes and sweater came on just as quickly, and for the first time I noticed the necklace dangling off the hanger still in the bag. It was one of mine; I knew it pretty well. I’d worn it the first time I met Fitz, come to think of it. Silver, with light blue and white accents. Perfect.

“He’s down the street!” I heard Ben say downstairs, and I felt my heart speed up as I looked in the mirror for the first time since I changed into Fitz’s shirt and my shorts. It didn’t even look like me. Well, I mean, it did. But with the blonde hair, curled in and held back by a simple white headband, and the slightly over-done eye makeup, I kind of looked like Amanda B in Easy A.

“Hollie, you ready?” I gave myself one final glance in the mirror, smoothing out the front of the dress.

“Yeah!” I called out, giving myself a self-assuring nod. I had no idea what was going to happen that night. Something big, no doubt. But what it was, I could only guess. Downstairs, the door opened and closed again, and I heard Fitz’s voice in the entryway.

“How’d everything go?”

“Without a hitch so far,” Andrea replied, and I stepped out of the bathroom, taking one final deep breath before walking down the stairs. Andrea’s expression was my favorite. She looked like one of those movie moms; proud and slightly in awe. Ben just looked excited. Fitz, though; it was like we were going to prom and I was walking down the stairs to meet him for the first time. He grinned like nothing in the world could stop him.

Until I almost fell down the stairs.

That damn bottom stair catches me every single time, I swear. I hit the last one, and the little notch in the wood caught on my heel, sending me propelling into Fitz’s chest. He laughed, looking down at me, and I let out a breathy laugh, trying to calm the blush seeping its way into my face. “That was smooth,” he said quietly, and I rolled my eyes into his chest, my hand swatting at his arm as I pulled away, looking at him. He was dressed in my favorite; blue button up, khakis, leather shoes. His hair was a mess, as usual, but I liked it that way. It always reminded me of that rumpled look he had the day I fell asleep on his couch and we woke up just in time for me to be late to school.

“You couldn’t have hinted that something was going on tonight?” I asked, searching his face for any sign of what was in store for me.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” He smirked, that smirk that gets me every time, and Andrea held something out to me as I gave him the smile I always give him in reply to the smirk. It was my white lace Nine West clutch, and when I peered inside, I noticed it was filled with essentials-chapstick, gum, blotting papers, my debit card and ID, earphones and most importantly, my cell phone.

“Before you two go,” she said, and pulled something out of her pocket. A camera. “I have to have one of those a-typical mom moments and take a picture.” Fitz rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest as he slid his arm around my shoulder, mine around his waste. I used my free hand to push some hair towards my face, just the way I usually do for pictures, and leaned into Fitz. My a-typical moment. The camera flashed, and she turned in the other way, getting one more picture.

“Okay, okay. Mom, we got it!” Andrea let out a laugh and slid the camera back into her pocket, and before I could blink they were ushering us out the door. “I’ve got a surprise in store for you tonight, hon,” Fitz said as he opened the door, and I rolled my eyes.

“Understatement.” Fitz and I got in his car, waving at Ben and Andrea as we drove away. The second we got out of eyesight, I turned to Fitz. “You didn’t have to ambush me, you know.” Fits didn’t even look at me, instead he just shifted gears and then took my hand, resting the other on the center glove box, in his. I didn’t move, but rolled my eyes. “I mean, really? Having your mom give me a makeover just so we could go out?”

“So I felt like going out with my…” He stopped mid sentence, and squinted at the road. “I felt like going out,” he started again. “So sue me.”

“You still could have told me,” I said, and he gave my hand a squeeze.

“I just wanted it to be a surprise, okay?” He got onto the freeway. “A little spontaneity is all.” I shook my head lightly and intertwined my fingers tighter with his as he kept driving. I stayed silent the entire way there, my mind running over possible scenarios one after the other. What was going to happen? Why all the secrecy? My phone, still snug inside my bag, vibrated just as we exited the freeway, and I pulled it out. Fitz glanced at it. “You might wanna turn that off for tonight. You’re not gonna need it.” I glanced down at the screen; it was a text from Clare, asking to come over and do Algebra homework with her and Eli.

“Because everyone knows we’re going out tonight.” I rolled my eyes and typed a quick reply to Clare; Can’t! Novel writing lockdown; gotta finish this chapter! And as I looked up, I realized where we were. “Fitz, what’re we…”

“Don’t ask questions tonight, Hollie.” He turned in his seat as he finished parking the car and looked at me. “I know you like being in control and planning everything, but this is something I planned out for you. Just enjoy it; don’t question.” He looked so genuinely proud of himself; that masculinity you see radiating off of fictional handymen and husbands who help set up things around the house was coming towards me in waves. It was all I could do not to jump him then and there, so I just leaned forward and kissed him gently before he smiled and got out of the car, coming around and opening the door for me. I was suddenly very glad I’d taken the sweater-in the thirty minutes we’d been in the car, the temperature outside had dropped some ten degrees. “It’s warmer inside-trust me.” I looked up at him as I took his hand, and then glanced at our surroundings. We were in the parking lot of a country club I’d been to before-they had a press conference here for Catch the Wave. I’d tripped going down the stairs and Lucas, for the third time since filming started, caught me.

“Terrace on the Green, right?” Fitz stopped in his tracks, turning to look at me.

“You’ve been here before?”

“Once. For a press thing a year or so ago. We were on the other side of the grounds though-I just recognize this part because we drove through it.” His face went from slightly alarmed to calmer in a second. He didn’t say anything after that, just took my hand and lead me up a few stairs, until we got into the lobby of what looked like a restaurant. A short woman with a blonde bob was waiting for us, a grin on her face. “Mr. Fitzgerald, Ms. Edwards, your table is ready.” My eyebrows shot up at the words “Ms. Edwards,” and I gave Fitz a look as we followed her out of the lobby and into the main part of the restaurant. He leaned close, so only I could hear, and when he spoke, his breath hit my neck.

“When they asked for your name I couldn’t very well say ‘Hollie Peterson.’ So I just said ‘Hollie Edwards.’ It was the first thing I could think of.” I rolled my eyes, just as we came to a stop, and when I looked at the setup I fought a gasp. It was beautiful. One of the tables was set apart from the others-just two chairs and a smaller table, but on top was a white table cloth with white rose petals littering the top, and a rose of the same color on one side. There were champagne flutes and a glass of cider in ice, and a waiter sat us both down, smiled, and then walked away. I looked at Fitz over the table, setting my bag on my chair behind me.

“Fitz, this is…” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I set my hand out on the table, reaching for his. He set his over mine, his thumb rubbing the top of my fingers. “This is amazing.” He smiled to himself, and then left go of my hand, moving to open the cider.

“I wanted to take you out on a serious date-since our first was all at home meals and burning desert, I figured you deserved to be lavished a bit. Well, lavished by me.” He popped the cork off and quickly went to fill my glass with the bubbling drink.

“But why? What’s the occasion?” He gave me another sly smile, handing me back my glass.

“All in due time.”

He didn’t answer any of my questions. Not through drinks, not through the first or second course (Caesar Salad followed by steak and potatoes-my favorite), and not even when I started rubbing my foot up and down his calf as we shared some sort of warm chocolate cake, though I could feel him crossing his legs tighter every couple of moments as we gave each other flirty glances. The poor waiter and hostess must have felt nauseous, with all the mushy, googley eyes going on. I felt like we were Clare and Eli, which, in some cases would be a good thing, but in this instance it just felt like more PDA then I was used to. It was fun though. A chance to get out of our rooms. When we were done eating, the waiter came up behind me to pull out my seat, but Fitz gave him a look, doing it himself before taking my hand in his and leading me back outside. It took me a minute to find my footing on the gravel trail we walked down, past the parking lot and down a narrow path between trees, lit by tall light posts on either side. Fitz held my hand tight the entire way, and we shared small glances and smiles every once in a while. For once, I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t say anything. I just enjoyed his silent company.

“Can you believe it’s been almost two months since you started at Degrassi?” I looked up at him with raised eyebrows, surprised by not only the fact that he’d been paying attention to the date when I started, but had been keeping track of how long it had been since then.

“Has it really?” I let out a laugh, following him as he led me towards a small lighted area near a willow tree, a bench positioned just under its branches. “Feels like longer.”

“It does,” he agreed, shaking his head. “I met you on your first day. The tenth, right?” I nodded silently. “It’s amazing how much a person can change in two months.”

“How so?” He sat me down on the rickety bench, and then sat next to me, his arm going over my shoulder and pulling me into his chest.

“You know I haven’t touched a joint or blunt in like a month?” I’m even more astonished by this than I was by his record keeping.

“But you were smoking with Owen at the ravine when I went with Alli the other day.”

“I was smoking a cigarette. Owen had the blunt.” He looked down at me. “I’m still trying to kick the smoking habit, but for right now it’s keeping me from smoking weed.” I gave him a look of admiration, and snuggled into his chest.

“You know, I don’t care about you smoking, as long as you don’t do it around me.”

“I know, but I could tell you really hated it, even if you were too proud to say anything. You recoil and make a face every time I smell like any kind of smoke. It’ll probably take me a while-fuck, I’ve been smoking Marlboros since I can remember-but I’m willing to do it.” I gave him that look again, and took his other hand in mine.

“That is one of the sweetest things to ever come out of your mouth.”

“I’ve got something sweeter.” I sat up, but before I could say anything, he took both my hands in his. I looked down at them and then back up to his face, where he caught my eyes. “Hollie, you have to know why we’re here. Why I’m doing all of this.” While it’s true a few ideas had crossed through my mind, I really didn’t know for sure why Fitz was doing all this. “It’s been nearly two months since I met you. And in those two months you’ve made such a change in my life. You’ve made me so happy-happier than I’ve been in a really long time.” He gave my hands a squeeze, and said the words I’d been waiting almost two months to hear. “Hollie, will you be my girlfriend?”

Of course I said yes. There was no question to it. And we spent an hour giggling and being all mushy on that bench, until I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore and I forced him to drive us home, where the (disgustingly) adorable mushiness continued.

Because finally, we’re together.

I felt like I was on cloud nine, walking around the house with a grin planted on my face. It carried over into the school week, and when Fiona and I went to her house to work on a project for Merchandising, she knew what was going on the second she saw me.

“So it’s official?” she asked, giggling. I shrugged, pulling into her driveway. I’d recounted the entire evening to her, interrupted by the occasional awe and omg.

“As official as you can get while still being secret. I mean, what do people do now? Make it Facebook Official?” She laughed, shrugging.

“Well since you don’t have a Facebook, that’d be kind of hard.”

“Maybe I can make one of those ones you guys use, the school ones. Facerange, right?” Fiona nodded.

“I’ll help you set it up. But this, Ms. Peterson, I believe deserves a bottle of champagne.” And that, I couldn’t argue with. I still don’t understand how Fi is so happy all the time. On top of Finals next week, she’s got this whole Bobby deposition coming up Monday. Separate, they’re hard to handle. Together, I’m still wondering how she’s not going completely crazy.

With exams coming up, I think we all need to distress. But the next thing on my plate wasn’t me distressing. It was dealing with Adam. Because on Tuesday, Fitz called me at 11:30 PM to tell me that he had signed up for fight club. Adam. Adam Torres. No taller than me, wouldn’t hurt a fly Adam.

“Well you’re not going to set him up with like, Tyler, right?” Fitz’s laughter on the other end was slightly encouraging.

“Hell no. I don’t want Adam to die. I’ll find someone though, don’t worry. At least he’s getting involved.” I was encouraged, then. But somehow, I get the feeling this is not going to end well.

December 14, 2010
6:45 PM
Location: Home
Feeling-know it all.

Fitz had set Adam up with a sparring partner, alright. He’d set Adam up with Bianca. A girl. A girl that had dissed Adam in front of everyone AND revealed to most of the school at he was a Trans. The fuck, right?

“I know you’re friends with him, Hols, but what the fuck?” Adam practically screamed as he paced back and forth in my downstairs living room, while I sat on the couch, listening like a good friend.

“I just think he was trying to keep you from getting damaged,” I defended Fitz, even though on the inside, I kind of wanted to slap him. One week of perfectness and our first fight as a couple was looming around the corner.

“Damaged?” Adam asked, sounding hurt. “So you don’t think I could have taken on someone else? Someone more male?” My eyes widened, and I shook my head, hands flailing in refusal.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. But he’s not gonna set you up with like, Tyler or Owen. It’s not a fair fight.” And everything I said after that dug me deeper and deeper into my hole. After while, I just shut up and let him fume.

With Adam drama came Fiona drama. Her deposition is tomorrow and honestly, I think Holly J and I are just as freaked out as she is. Why she didn’t have it rescheduled till next week, I’ll never know.

December 15, 2010
11:50 AM
Location: Study Hall
Feeling-like a bad friend.

I didn’t know. I can’t believe I couldn’t tell. Fiona is an alcoholic. Straight up, drunk at school, alcoholic.

That’ show she’s been getting through all this. She’s been hiding champagne in her water bottle. She got through the deposition this morning, but apparently she was intoxicated for that too. It wasn’t until Holly J pointed out the lack of champagne eyes that I even knew anything about it. Because when Mrs. Coyne and Declan came in, fuming, Holly J took the time after they’d left to fill me in on what in God’s name was going on.

I just feel so horrible about everything. And, to top it off, my boyfriend just got punched by my best friend (yes, I giggled while typing boyfriend). And not in a “hey buddy” way.

I was standing in the hall with Fiona and Holly J when I heard Eli say “Still your super awesome bff?” I turned, confused as to when Eli had turned into a valley girl, only to see Adam walk up to Fitz and punch him in the stomach. Fitz keeled over, and Eli walked up to Adam, grabbing him. “Let’s go, Rocky, before a teacher comes. I ran up to them, taking Adam’s hand and trying to pull him away.

“Say your prayers freak,” Fitz sputtered from the ground. “I’m finding your ass after school!”

“Yeah, do it!” Adam lunged towards Fitz again, and both Eli and I held him back.

“Adam, lets go,” Eli said, and he tore his hands away from both of us, looking at Eli.

“I fight my own battles.” He started to storm off.

“Yeah, and this is how you do it? Ambushing someone in the middle of the freaking hall?” I look down at Fitz, and then up to Eli. “God, all of you are pathetic.” And at that moment, I really felt like it too. I hadn’t talked to Fitz since Adam had come over, avoiding his texts and attempts to talk during passing period. It had honestly pissed me off that he’d thought for even a second that pairing Bianca and Adam up was a good idea.

It took me a whole two minutes to find Clare. I was unbelievably pissed off about Fitz, but there was no way in hell I was letting the two of them get into it after school.

“Long time no see,” she said sarcastically as I walked up to her locker. Ouch. I hadn’t seen this side of Clare-snarky and pissed off.

“Listen, I know you’re pissed off at me for the whole split up thing, but we don’t have time to work that out right now. We’ve got trouble.” She looked at me, concerned, and I felt her coldness melt away.

“What’s going on?”

“To make a long story extremely short, Adam and Fitz are going to fight after school.” Clare’s eyes widened in horror.

“But, they can’t! Fitz would-

“I know, I know. We have to do something to stop it.” We found Eli, and walked together to the weight room where we made a feeble attempt at talking Adam out of it. It didn’t work, of course.

“For once you have no sneaky plan up your sleeve?” Clare asked once Adam left, and Eli just walked out. “We have to do something,” she started. “But not directly. It’s not like we can stand between them and stop it. Us being there won’t change a thing.” And that’s when it hit me. I don’t know where it came from-maybe just the idea of the fight brought up a memory.

“You saw Long Lost, right?” She gave me a confused look, but nodded. “Just go with me for a second. Okay, so Josh Hutcherson’s character, right, he was going to fight Logan’s, but what did Emma Roberts do?”

“She had you create a distraction-that stink bomb, right? -that led the entire group outside, so they couldn’t fight without getting in trouble with their parents.” Suddenly, her eyes lit up, and she gave me a sly grin. “Do you think it would actually work?”

“It’s worth a try,” I said, shrugging, and then followed her to the Chem lab, where we worked for the rest of the break. And I think things are fixed with us. No longer a rift, I guess.

It went perfectly, if I do say so myself. I was in my French II final when it happened. In the middle of a question, I heard the ball rolling across the floor, and then smoke coming up from right next to Alli’s desk. It smelled horrible, just the way we planned.

“What the hell?” Alli called, jumping out of her chair as Perino, who was proctoring the exams, ushered everyone out. When we got outside, I saw Fitz sitting on the hood of his car, next to Tyler and Owen, crouched over.

“Hollie!” Clare yelled from across the street, and I met up with her and Eli and Adam.

“What happened?” Adam asked, and Clare and I looked at each other.

“Someone set off a stink bomb,” Clare explained. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Adam said, smiling. “I got a few kicks and knees in before everyone came out.” And that would be when I saw Holly J struggling to support Fiona as they trudged across the parking lot. I waved off my three friends and went to help another two, who were met by Declan near the car. He shook his head at his sister, and then helped load her into the front seat.

“What happened?” I asked, and he looked at me, obviously frustrated.

“She fell asleep during her exam.”

“She was drunk,” Holly J further explained, and Declan threw her a glare. “What, it’s the truth.” She pulled a paper out of her pocket and handed it to Declan. “I got this out of the trash. Go fill it.” She looked at me. “We’ll meet you at the house.” I went with her and Fiona back to the Coynes, loading Fiona into the house with as much ease and grace possible when supporting 120 pounds of dead weight.

“This needs to get fixed,” Mrs. Coyne said, leaning against the kitchen counter and rubbing her temples. I glanced at the TV, a still shot of Bobby’s smug face still on screen.

“Maybe the best way is to make her realize what’s at stake,” I said, pointing at the TV. “She’s never going to feel good about herself if she just lets him get away with it.”

“I think that’s a step in the right direction,” she said, and I nodded in agreement. A step in the right direction was all we needed.