Fandom: Popular

Title: Three Times Table: April

Author: Carla

Email: cmfloresfd@yahoo.com

*** The rest can be found in the previous posts ***

A/N: April's musings on Brooke and their relationship.

As soon as I walk into the house May is full of questions about tonight. Were Brooke’s parents nice? Did it seem like they knew? What did we talk about? Was Sam there? Does Sam know? What movie did we see? What does Brooke’s room look like? Do they have a pool?

I tell her about the house and your bedroom and how you said that this summer we should come over to swim. I don’t tell her about your little fantasy of you and me in the pool late at night. I tell her about how Sam looked like she was just about to have a cow when she walked in on us making out on your bed. And how Sam kept staring at us, back and forth like she was watching a tennis match, all throughout dinner. I tell her about how your Dad is a stickler about when it’s okay to leave the table and how he wasn’t going to let Sam be excused until I butted in. I tell her about how the movie was sold out and so instead we went to Barnes and Noble. I tell her about the sinfully good chocolate and anisette biscotti we had. I don’t tell her how I traded you a kiss for the last bite of the damn thing. I don’t tell her we spent half an hour making out in the back seat of your car in the parking lot nor do I tell her about how thought I was going to pass out when you touched my breast. Finally Mom calls up the stairs that it’s time for us to go to bed and May leaves my room.

My parents don’t know that I’ve plugged a phone into the line that we have for my computer so that I can talk to you at night. Mom would be way pissed if she knew I was up and talking on the phone. It’s okay if I’m up and reading but up and talking would be something else all together. But I love talking to you late at night. I love sliding into sleep with your voice in my ear and I’ve come to need to have the last thing I hear at night be your voice telling me you love me.

I dream about the day I get to fall asleep next to you and wake up with you. I dream about you all the time. I dream about touching you, learning your body. I dream about you touching me. But the truth is the dreams paled in comparison to the reality. Tonight in your car, this afternoon on your bed the way you touched me. God that you even want to touch me is a miracle. I’m under no illusions. I know what I am. Queen of the Geeks that’s me. But it’s me you want and that is just amazing.

What would other people say if they knew? I think your friend Nicole, who surely is the devil’s own handmaiden, would go up in flames. And that psycho Mary Cherry, who knows what she’d do or say. I wouldn’t be shocked to learn that she was selling tapes of us on the Internet, after all she sold me a pair of Carmen’s panties once.

I wish I could explain that little chapter in my history but I can’t really other than to say obsession is never pretty. That and I’m medicated now so hopefully that little transgression won’t ever be repeated. Unless of course you want to give me a pair of your panties, I think if I asked you for them you just might. Everyone at school thinks you’re this perfect Grade A heterosexual princess but I know you have a slightly kinky side, a side that would get a kick out of knowing that I was holding your thong up to my face while masturbating to visions of you.

I suppose it’s true that I march to my own drummer. But that’s okay because after all the march led me to you. Sometimes I still can’t quite believe that I had the guts to confront you in the library. But it really was shitty what had happened with Freddie and you needed to know that. I was surprised that you admitted so readily that you were in the wrong. Now I wouldn’t be, now that I know you but back then I was. Your father asked me how I knew you. Did we have classes together or were we in some school club together. I didn’t know how to answer him really so I picked the generic school answer because I didn’t think you’d want me to tell him the truth. That I know you from the library really, from afternoons spent talking about anything and everything. That I know you from hours spent in your car, in the park and on the phone. I didn’t think you’d want me to tell him the answer that first came to mind; that I feel like I’ve known you all my life. That I feel safe with you and accepted by you for who I am just as I am. Except for the hair, May asked me the other day why I was letting it grow out and I told her it’s because you asked me to even though you haven’t really. But I know you like long hair. I remember how when you kissed me that first time you ran your fingers through my hair and murmured something about how you wished it were longer. I didn’t tell him that I want to make you feel the same way, safe protected and cherished for who you are. Just as you are, a golden Princess high school sex goddess who loves Law and Order, cheesy romance novels, the Go-Gos, fashion magazines and me. Me with my red hair and freckles and my gawky quirky awkwardness.

Carla

It's a one time thing...it just happens a lot. (Suzanne Vega, Cracking)