Freezepop

Brendon decided to take me on a date, to my backyard. He claims that it's the best spot because it's beautiful, it's cheap, and it's private. He won't tell me what we're going to be doing in my backyard, all I know is that I'm kicked out of my house for the day and stuck, solely, with Winifred. Yay! We haven't spent a day by ourselves in a long time. I'm rather looking forward to it.

When I get to Winnie's, she has no idea what we should do either. All she knows is that she's supposed to keep me away from the house because Brendon's a cheap idiot. So what do we do? Go down to the 7-Eleven and get slushies. The best thing about this 7-Eleven is that you can get whipped cream on top of your slushie. I have a thing about the whipped cream, as in - it's mine. If I allow you a sip of my drink, don't touch the cream or I'll chop your hands off.

"Winnie, why do people do the things they do?"

"What are you talking about?" She stops watching the houses whiz by and turns to look at me.

"Answer the question."

"Because we're programmed to. Is there any specific reason for this?"

"Michelle cheated on Dylan. With some guy named Trevor."

"Why am I not surprised?"

It saddens me to know that Dylan's probably at home bawling his eyes out. I feel like I should go make sure he's going to be okay because I've told him that he's my friend. Shouldn't I act like one when he needs it?

I turn left at the stop sign and circle around the block, heading back in the direction we came. Dylan's house is about five minutes away, and it's not like I have anywhere else to be right now.

"Why do I get the feeling we're actually going somewhere now instead of just driving around aimlessly?"

"Because we are."

"Where are we going?"

"Someone needs to be there for Dylan."

"No, no, no!" Winifred whines, stomping her foot a little for emphasis. "Dylan's anoying! He can take care of himself."

"As compelling are your argument is, he needs a friend Winnie. I can't just ignore him." I pull into his driveway. His car and another are in the open garage. "I'm just going to talk to him so it shouldn't take long. Listen to music or something while you wait."

She huffs and reclines the seat, putting her feet on the dashboard. I climb out and make my way up to the front door. I ring the bell, waiting with bated breath, secretly hoping no one will answer because I hate crying people.

"Can I help you?" Shit. His mom. I've never meet Dylan's family, and I don't think they even know of me.

"Hi. I'm uh, I'm a friend of Dylan's. Is he here?"

She eyes me quizzically, like I have 'alternate agenda' written all across my face, before she answers. "He's in his room. Down the stairs, third door on your left." She steps aside and lets me in.

Their house is very clean, and it feels stuffy compared mine. I like the white walls and blah furniture, but don't you think you could spice it up a little? Make it look like people live here instead of catalog perfect?

I hear music blasting when I hit the bottom step: Something Corporate, Dylan's favorite. I reach his door, and I expect to hear his sobs, but there's only music. I knock on the door before I push it open. He's just laying on his bed, hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

"Jelly Bean?"

He shoots up. "Tracy? What are you doing here?" He reaches over and turns his stereo down.

"Michelle came over yesterday and told me what happened. Are you okay?" I move over to his bed and sit facing him.

Dylan brushes some bangs into his eyes then shakes them out. He shrugs. "I should have known it was coming. Mitchy's never been Ms. Faithful."

"Come on, Jelly Bean." I lightly punch his arm. "Now you can finally find somebody who deserves you."

"You've always been so nice to me, Tracy." He looks down at his hands, his fingers drumming slowly on his knees.

"Well, you've always been nice to me. I figured the least I could do is return the favor," I said matter of factly. "You know?" Dylan gives me a sad look before he leans forward and gives me a hug. I wrap my arms around him and squeeze gently. "I'm sorry she had to do this to you. It's not fair for you to have to suffer through her shit."

He pulls back a little, and I don't have time to think or even look at him before I feel his lips softly on mine. I jerk back quickly and look at him.

"Tracy," he breathes.

"Dylan. I, I can't."

"You're not a rebound," he says surely, quietly.

I shake my head and stand up, running my hands through my hair. "That's not it."

"Who cares about Michelle?"

"That's not it either. Dylan, I'm not interested in you that way. I never have been, and I don't think I ever will."

"Then why are you here?" he says coldly, almost shouting.

"I told you!" I throw my arms in the air. "I came here to make sure you're okay because you're my friend, Dylan!"

"Well, how the hell was I supposed to know? You always treat me so nicely, and you gave me that silly little nickname! Talk about mixed signals, Tracy!"

"Mixed..? What the fuck, Dylan! I'm a nice person. Duh! And that nickname.. I call you Jelly Bean because you're not any smarter than one! You can't be with the way you let people treat you!"

"So treat me differently, Tracy," he says desperately.

"I can't." Tears spring to my eyes. I've never had to do this before, tell someone 'no' like this. I've never had a guy interested in me before, and now I've got two.

"Why not?" Dylan whispers.

"Because I think I'm with Brendon."

"You think? See? You don't even know. Come on, Tracy, please."

"I said 'I think' because we've said how we feel, but we just haven't made anything official. I like you Dylan, but I don't like you. I like Brendon, and he feels the same about me. I can't do that to him, I can't do that to myself, and Dylan, you need to find somebody who's not us. I'm sorry, but I have to go."

He starts to say something, but I don't listen, I block it out, and I get the hell out of his house. When I get in the car and don't even put my seatbelt on to drive home, Winnie keeps trying to ask me what's wrong, what happened, why am I in such a rush, but I ignore her. I just need to get home and hide out in my room for a while - away from everyone, where I belong.

I slam on my brakes in the driveway and jump out. Winnie tries to run after me, but she forgets to unbuckle her seatbelt, and she falls back into her seat. I slam the front door behind me, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Kat's and Ryan's lips break apart. A fleeting thought about them finally being together runs through my mind as I charge up the stairs to my room. I lock my bedroom door behind me and collapse face-first onto my bed.

On the edge of sleep a knock sounds at my door. I know I didn't even form a word, it was just... noise. The bed sinks and someone's hand rests on my lower back, gently rubbing circles.

"Tracy?" It's Brendon.

"Hmm?"

"What happened? Winnie said you went to talk to Dylan, and you came storming out of the house, crying."

Crying? I was crying? Why don't I remember that? I turn my head, facing Brendon and blink tiredly. "It didn't go like I thought it would."

I watch him as he lays on his back next to me, resting a hand behind his head and the other playing with the hair that fell in my eyes. "How did you think it would go?"

"I thought he'd be upset about Michelle; he was in love with her, no doubt. I thought he'd need someone to talk to, someone who knows what she's really like. I thought we'd talk for a bit, he'd feel better for a short amount of time, and then sink back into depression for about a month before he climbed out of it and found someone who deserves him."

"What really happened?" Brendon turns on his side and scoots closer to me.

"He wasn't upset, per say. Just a little down. I told him that now he could find someone good for him, and he hugged me. Then he kissed me." My stomach was in hysterics. I was waiting for Brendon to jump from the bed in a screaming rage and try to find where Dylan lives so he could pummel him to death.

Instead, his face drops, and he takes his hand away from my face. "What'd you do?"

"I didn't kiss him back, if that's what you're wondering. I pushed him away as quick as he kissed me, and I told him that--" I stop short, not sure if I want to continue. What am I thinking? He confessed his feelings for me, I can tell him how I feel too.

"What'd you tell him?" He looks like he wants to know but at the same time he doesn't.

I reach out and caress his cheek with my thumb. I feel like I'm going to throw up I'm so nervous. I've never made the first move on anything. And even though we've kissed a lot, I feel like I'm the one initiating everything. "I told him that I don't like him like that. Because I like you that way."

A slow grin breaks out on his face, and he leans forward, capturing my lips with his. I breathe in deep, and my stomach calms down. I slide my hand behind his neck, pulling him closer. Brendon slowly pulls away, leaning over me, smiling softly. "And I like you that way. Be my girlfriend, Tracy?"

He asks it so calmly, so surely. I smile back and nod. "Of course."

Thank you, Brendon Urie. You've successfully made my life worth living. You've made it so that I can never say "Mundane is my middle name" again. You've given me a couple firsts that I never thought I would get. It took me about seventeen years to get there, but I got them. Thank you, God.