Phoebe

Lying on my bed in the wee hours after Saturday night, I thought back to Theodore, who, as luck would have it, told me to call him Ted. (It was funny that he wanted me to call him Ted when he seemed so much like a Theo -- if anything. When I asked the story behind the name, he replied, "Everybody used to call me Teddy when I was a kid. They seemed to think me a bear for some reason." To which I responded, "Makes sense", because he does have the cuddliness of a teddy bear.)

That was the thing about Ted. Poor, poor warm, welcoming Ted. My heart went out to him. Apparently, it was no one's fault but his grandmother's he didn't date Clara anymore.

"And she said, 'You're too young to know what you want. You've only dated Clara all through high school. Don't you think you should move on and meet new people?'. So I broke up with Clara last year, and I haven't dated anyone since."

"So you're content to allow her to push you around? You're happy that you're not downstairs with Clara now and instead talking to me?" I harshly said before adding, "I see why your grandma wanted you two to break up, but I don't seewhy. I mean, if you two were very much in love -- which I base solely upon you moping in your room -- you could have faked. You know,said you had broken up."

I was chatting more than I ever had to a person I just met. I was amazed at how good it felt to be open with my thoughts. With Ted, there were no boundaries; I was truthful with him and somehow I knew he was the same with me.

Theodore ran both hands through his hair -- rumpling it even more -- before they rested -- knitted together -- on his neck. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I didn't think of that," he confessed. "I've been so stupid. Oh God."

I nodded. "Yes, you were a moron, Theodore. Now go downstairs and explain to her what happened."

"Are you kidding me? I can't do that! She'd think me stupid; I can't stand that. No, I'd rather she just hate me forever."

I swiveled on his rolly computer chair. Round and round I spun, the colors of the room smudging together to form a sort of gray color.

I knew what it felt like to not want to be considered stupid. I was once called that way back when I was in first grade. I'm pretty sure I'm now smarter than the girl who said it. But this was a girl he had known -- had loved -- for years maybe; there was no doubt, no maliciousness about it.

"Well, the thing is, Ted, that if she hates you, she'll most definitely think you are things you might not necessarilybe. I mean, when you establish that you hate someone, every little thing they do will piss you off," I said before stopping and looking him in the eye. The room was blurry a bit, but I could still make out his clear gaze.

"And so you have nothing to lose. Either you tell her the truth and she accepts and forgives you, or she doesn't and you know for a fact that she despises you. If the first, well, that's all fine and dandy; if the second, well, at least you can say you tried."

Theodore had promised me before I left his house that he would eventually talk to Clara, and he assured me he would call once he did -- to tell me what all occurred. I highly doubted that the phone call would come, but somewhere in the deep, deep jungle of my mind, I knew that he would honor his pledge. At least, I surely hoped so. It wasn't so much that I wanted to date Mr. Royce but I knew we were similar, and likes must stay together, even if opposites attract.