26 : Thursday

Step Twenty Six: Give him a fake message! Send, "hey, are you

I stop reading.

I'm with Jason, now. There's no reason to continue with this book; it's done. I've done it. It's been—what—almost four days? And I'm still reading this book?

I close the cover, placing my book onto the floor. "Down ya go," I mumble, saying good-bye to How to Get A Boyfriend 101.

Jason's arms snake around my waist, turning me around to face him. "Something up, Felix?"

I smile softly. "Nope," I reassure him. "Just thanking my past self for saving whatever city gave me good enough luck for this relationship to be possible."

"Aww, shut up. We both know I'm the lucky one here."

My lips quirk, my eyes narrowing in a playful, suspicious way. "Wait, you think you're the lucky one?"

"Am I not?"

"No, you aren't. I'm the lucky one." I shove Jason's shoulder gently, stepping back. I stab the middle of my chest with my index finger. Ow. "Look at me, Jason. I. Am. The. Lucky. One."

He leans in to give me a quick kiss before mentioning that I should try organizing my stuff a little.

Organizing...

Ew.

I have about an hour until school starts, and, after that, I have a big decision to make. Should I stay or should I go? Do I continue living with Jason, or do I go back to my single dorm room that Russell hasn't yet moved into? At the moment, I'm leaning toward one option. I think it's the one I'll go with, obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be leaning toward it. And, although I'm leaning in this option's direction, I have my doubts. The thing about options, though, is that it's possible to choose between them, and then switch that choice. To switch a choice, one must first mull over their gut instincts and first decision.

I hate decisions.

Especially big ones.

Stupid, stupid brain. Get ready for your life to hit you like a bus hits Russell's cats. Or just one cat? Two? How many cats does that guy have, again?

No, no, no busses. Russell's cats are fine, I think. Nothing to worry about. Just my hourly dose of—

"Hey, snap out of it. You have organizing to do," Jason reminds me, poking his head back into the room.

I snap out of it.

Because.

I have organizing to do.

Nearly sighing, I make an exaggerated show of rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah..."

~~~~~~~~

"So, Russell, you asked him out on stage, without knowing where you'd go if he said yes?"

I'm trying to understand how Russell was thinking yesterday. He and Blake make a good couple, in my opinion, but they can't seem to agree on a location for their first official date.

"I thought we'd figure it out together, if he would even accept me." Russell's shoulders slump as he places his books on top of his desk.

"Even a fool knows that you always need to have a plan," I scold him. Me. Scolding Russell. It barely makes sense in my head. "Finding dates isn't as easy as it may seem, lover boy."

Russell drags a finger through the soil on our desk, the soil in which our sunflower seeds can be found. They're on the verge of emerging, just days away from growing into the beautiful, familiar flowers.

"Also, Russell, it might make you feel better to know that Jason and I haven't gone on official 'dates'"—I make air quotes with my fingers—"before. We've just been hanging out as usual, with more... y'know."

Russell smirks at his textbook and pats me on the shoulder. Probably picking up an innuendo where I didn't intend for one to be, or something like that. I hate when that happens. Something clicks in his mind—I can see, in his eyes, the moment it happens—and he decides to turn the conversation on a full 180.

"Say, Felix, what's happening tomorrow?" Russell asks me, eyes all wide and innocent now.

I cough, stalling for thinking time. Nothing pops up in my head. "What? What's tomorrow?"

"Well, do you know what the date is?"

"I thought you and Blake didn't have any dates" tumbles out of my mouth before I can help it. At Russell's slightly shocked expression, I hastily apologize. "Neither do Jason and I," I amend. "I mean, what's happening tomorrow?"

He shakes his head, his shocked expression melting into one of appreciative humor. "No, that was good. You get extra points for catching me off-guard. Anyway, Felix, today is February thirteenth."

"How do you know that?" I glance down at my watch, which reads the time and date. And the most recent text message I've received.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday, February 13

09:58:46

Text from:

Blake

bro the two of us are having lunch together to talk about finalizing your living arrangements...

don't argue

be at Bar-Taco at like 12:30 ish okay?

mwah okay bye

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, yeah, it's the thirteenth. So?" I raise an eyebrow. "Are you excited that it's almost Friday? Because same, dude. This has been a really long, action-packed week. Waking up hungover in Jason's bed, dating Jason, prepping for the talent show, doing the talent show, meeting Jason's rather unique mom, plus school stuff when my hectic life agrees with that small nuisance."

"Tell me about it." Russell sighs, defeated. He's also had a crazy week. I can only imagine what his night was last night after he outed himself to the world. To his parents. I wish I could ask, but it doesn't feel like the kind of topic Russell would want to talk about without initiating the conversation. "I think the two of us, combined, have had a crazier week than my entire life so far."

I nod, my mind already elsewhere. What is tomorrow? I wrack my brain. We have next week off for February break, but tomorrow is Friday. It's just the last day of school. The nearest birthday that I can think of off the top of my head is Amanda's, which is in over a month. I can't be celebrating any anniversaries, nor are there any major holidays that come to mind.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the third period. I tough out the next couple of classes—my 10:00 class, English, which I share with Zoe; my 11:00 class, math, in which I'm alone. At noon, I am released and have half an hour to wander about until my lunch with Blake.

Someone grabs my wrist and pulls me into a small room before my brain catches up to the situation, and I immediately throw the palm of my hand against their cheek in a loud, resounding slap.

Jason's hands fly to his face as he sputters, curse words spewing out of his mouth.

I also swear, immediately reaching out to see if he's okay. "Jason, holy—"

"My fault," he interrupts. "Shouldn't have snuck up on you like that." Personally, I couldn't agree more. And a small closet, of all places? Come on, Jason. "Sorry."

"It's okay; don't do it again, though. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I stand up and put my hands on my hips, careful not to hit my head against a shelf. The janitor's closet. It doesn't get much more high-school-film-trope-y than this. "What was so important that you had to abduct me for?"

"I, uh," Jason trails off, looking at his feet. "I'm not sure. Just missed you."

The hard glint in my eyes softens as I glance at my watch. 12:07. "I have to be somewhere in twenty-three minutes, Jason."

Jason and eye make I contact.

"I can work with twenty-three minutes," he says, his voice dangerously low as he straightens his back and flexes his fingers.

I grin, raising an eyebrow. "Do your worst."

~~~~~~~~

"Woah, Felix, looks like someone got into a fight with the wrong people. Either that, or—"

"How about you don't finish that sentence, Blake Turner? How about no?"

"But seriously, dude. You—"

"Shut up."

"Jason—"

"Blake, need I show you the blackmail photo album in my phone, labeled "Blakemail?"

That gets him to become very quiet, very quickly. "No," he murmurs. "Needeth thou not."

"That's what I thought."

Blake and I walk into Bar-Taco, and I run a hand through my hair. It's not that bad, right? All we did was have a mild tickle fight. The mop I fell on didn't...

Honestly, it's easier to let Blake believe that Jason and I did something else. I don't want to have to explain why I allowed him to tickle me after passing out last time. The truth is, I love to laugh. And Jason loves to laugh. And I love to see Jason laugh. And Jason loves to see me laugh. We learned from the passing-out incident, the same way Blake learned not to hit people over the head with vases. What is failure, if not the mother of success? Or something like that. Maybe it applies differently to tickle fights and vase battles.

"Hey, aren't you that girl who forced Felix to do a bunch of poetry improvisation?" Blake says, greeting Haven, the cashier.

I elbow him in the ribs, flashing a polite smile at Haven. "Blake, her name is Haven."

"Oh," Blake shrugs, smiling apologetically at her. "Well, hey, Haven."

"Nah, that's fine. Felix, what brings you here today? More debt? Didn't you pay it off? And who's this?"

I wink at her before launching into my natural state of being.

"I need to decide

Where to live because of some

Arrangements I've made.

"This is Blake Turner,

My friend, and Russell's boyfriend.

It's a recent thing.

"I'll place my order,

Unless that is not okay?

I shall begin, now.

"For myself, I'll have

The kids' quesadillas, please.

Not really kids, though.

"I just needed the

Extra syllable, but now

This is quite awkward."

Haven giggles and grins, "Of course! And for you, Russell's boyfriend?"

Blake orders the same thing as I took, and, once we acquire the stuff and pay for it, we sit down at a window table. Blake snorts. "She's nice."

"She really is, Blake. Haven's one of the few girls I get along really well with."

Blake shrugs and folds his hands, looking like a true interviewer as he picks a speck of invisible lint off his hoodie.

"Where are you going to wake up tomorrow?"

The question could have been worded better, in my own, personal opinion. "In a bed?"

"And where is this bed?"

"A room?"

"And where is this room?"

"Preferably on Earth. If I get to be picky, this hemisphere."

"And if you're really picky, what kind of room is it?"

"A house? A school dorm?"

"Which is it?"

I go pale. "I... I don't know."

Blake places his hand over mine, his gaze softening as my breathing quickens. I've managed to go a week without panicking over the situation, thanks to how helpful he and Jason were in deciding to do a one week trial. But it's time, now, and I don't know what to do. Somehow, I become even paler as something occurs to me. I am Future Felix. Thank you, Past Felix, for torturing me so.

"Let's make a pro and con list, Lix. Okay?" He rubs my hand gently, grounding me. "Just like Jim Halpert. Embrace my inner The Office fan, even though you didn't have the taste to watch it with me."

I snort in spite of myself. "I'll get paper out of my bag," I offer as he gets a pen out. Blake is quick to stop me, trading my loose leaf for printer paper. Printer paper that he randomly had with him, because... that's normal.

"Why don't we not speak to each other as we make this? Just bounce off each other, writing one thing at a time," Blake suggests, using a thick sharpie to make categories. I watch, silent, waiting for him to realize my agreement. He glances up and sees my poorly hidden smile. "Okay, I'm taking that as a yes. You go first. I'll try to copy a cheesy font, so that my handwriting is actually legible."

We begin. It takes a few minutes, but, eventually, we manage to agree to stop.

I huff and brush my hair away from my face. "So..."

"You already had moving in mind, Lix. Why are you hesitating?"

"The relationship," I admit. "Half the time we've been living together, we've been boyfriends. It's weird to move out of my boyfriend's dorm... but I'm not sure how I feel about staying, either."

Blake glances down at his watch, and my face falls as his lips twist into an ironic smirk. "Well, as much as this is fun, I must leave for class. Have fun making a big choice on your own, doofus!"

My useless cabbagehead of a best friend saunters out as I stare daggers into his back.

What a little s—

~~~~~~~~

"Jason, I've made my decision."

The two of us are sitting on his bed, Jason's hand absently toying with my hair as I lay my head in his lap. "Hmm?" I hear the hum vibrate through me, and I snuggle a little more into his warmth.

"I'm not staying," I mumble. "I'm going to move back, and we're going to continue this relationship while living 2 flights of stairs apart." Jason exhales through his nose, lips pursed as he mulls over the information I've just given him. A little of my insecurity creeps back in, so I add, "Is that okay with you?"

"Of course it's okay, Felix," Jason says. "I would be okay with it either way. It's your choice of where you are going to live, not my decision. Tomorrow we can switch out your bedsheets with Russell's and fine-tune the details with Amanda, alright?"

"Tomorrow?" I vaguely remember Russell saying that tomorrow would be special, but, for the life of me, I can't think of why. "Sounds fine."

Jason glances at me, a small smile spreading across his face. "Why, Lix? Do you have plans for February fourteenth? Or are you planning on stooping so low as to spend Valentine's Day with your boyfriend?"

"Oh." My jaw drops, my eyes widening. February fourteenth. Idiot, idiot, idiot. Doofus. Stupid head. Cabbage head. Air head. No head. No brain. Come on, Felix, come on. "Yeah, let's do something together."

"Good."

Jason leans down to give me a quick peck, staying close to me for an extra moment.

"I hope tomorrow is a fun day for you, Lixie, because, if it's not..."

"It will be," I assure the boy I love. "It will be."