#075 - Bella Notte

She could not believe it. Nadine would never ditch her. But her she is... alone at a café at the corner of the Circle Theater. Rhonda received that text message just five minutes ago from her best friend but still have not recovered from the shock. There was an immense desire to punch Peapod Kid in the face the next time she saw him. That wasn't right though. She had to feel happy for her best friend. She's finally been asked out by her long time crush. Too bad he scheduled it at the same time Nadine and her had their weekly gossip session.

Nadine getting a date was not the thing that bothered her. Being left alone in their usual hang out was.

It just made Rhonda feel incredibly lonely, that's all. And it was pathetic. Her eyes shifted around the room. There was really no one there besides an old man reading a newspaper and a haggard mom with her bored-looking kid chewing gum. Oh, and let's not forget the freckled waiter.

The feeling of being constantly scrutinized did not disappear even when it is after school hours.

As Rhonda stared at the menu, the urge to leave got stronger.

It's a shame she was so dressed up, she sighed eyeing the photo of the vanilla milkshake. Maybe a little indulgence would lessen the pain.

Rhonda sighed again. Who was she kidding? She thought as she disappeared behind her hands. She felt as miserable as she probably looked. She thought that they were going to have a girls' night out. See chick flicks. Eat a lot of junk food. Flirt with boys. That kind of stuff.

It's a Friday. It's near seven in the evening. And she's alone. In this dingy diner. Alone. The worst state of being, Rhonda surely thought.

"Hey there, hot stuff. What's a fine thing like you doing alone?" a voice purred from behind.

Her eyes bulged out of her skull, the fine hairs at the back of her neck stood and she swore her blood just froze. It could not be the boy she had been avoiding all week. Maybe there was a worse state of being than alone...

Rhonda slowly turned her head around afraid of what she might see. Sadly, she was correct.

Thaddeus Gammelthorpe was beaming down at her without a care in the world. On one of his hands, he was grasping a yellow plastic bag brimming with what appeared to be comic books, and the other a vanilla milkshake. His eyes shocked her just like they did the last time she saw them, back in the fourth grade. Pure, pale blue that could be mistaken for the Caribbean sea on a hot day. She would know after many vacays on one of the islands there.

He's not wearing his glasses today.

It was interesting and odd. Mildly arousing. Eww. The thought was gross.

She released an unsteady breath.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked with a wink.

Rhonda hated the fact that she felt her face warm up with what must be an unmistakable blush. "Yes. I do mind. In fact, I'm leaving."

He sat down anyway and got comfortable, placing his plastic bag on the other side of the seat. She glared at him.

"Are you stalking me?" she asked, trying her best to look like she didn't care that he was here. Secretly, she had been increasingly affected by his presence in the last couple of weeks. She hate, hate, hated it. It must be the all those prom proposals. She will not give in. A secret mantra that she had to recite whenever she saw him.

It would be total social suicide.

He still had that wicked grin. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table before whispering in an almost conspiratorial manner. "No," he dragged out the word. "Why? Would you like me to?"

She snorted without any grace, leaning back and crossing her arms. "I rather you don't. Are you going to talk to me first or are you going to ask me to prom now? I rather you just get it over and done with. So, you know, I can reject you now and you can go away and crawl back to whatever hole you crawled out of."

Curly put a hand to his heart with a dramatic thud. "How you wound me, my princess!"

Rhonda rolled her eyes, desperately trying to quell the smile appearing on her face.

"So, what do you want?" she asked. "And why are you here?"

"I came from the shop just across, bought the latest issues of my favorite comics. I always stop by here for a drink. Imagine my surprise when tonight I saw you sitting in this booth by your lonesome. You of all people should know that I just could not resist, my sweet."

After plopping the menu down, she stared at him as if to gauge whether he was telling the truth. He seemed to be sincere but with Curly, you never knew.

"Are you going to ask me to prom?"

"Would you like me to?" he said with a smug grin.

"Why do you keep answering my questions with questions?"

"Why do you keep asking me questions?"

"Because you usually have an ulterior motive," she said. He froze and the joy in his eyes vanished.

The pit of Rhonda's stomach suddenly felt like it wanted to swallow her whole. That wasn't fair. He never brought up prom. She was the one who did.

For a long moment, his pale blue eyes just watched her. There was no expression. Just a neutrality that made her feel uneasy. "Maybe I just want to talk to you. You don't think that's possible?" he said softly, finally taking his eyes of her.

She swallowed her guilt and kept quiet.

"This is a mistake," he said and stood up, gathering his things.

"Wait!" she yelled louder than she wanted to and her hand shot out to grab his without any thought.

He turned back to her, stunned. Their eyes met once again and she can't help feel it. It was always there. In the past, she could not identify the word but now she knew. blasted word that kept her up at night.

Connection. They had a connection. Ever since young, a connection that Rhonda always wanted to ignore.

It was the reason why she never paid him any mind in middle school and high school, dating the athletes and the pretty boys, that while fun were also never mentally stimulating. A fact she'll never admit.

Because he, Curly, was different. He really got under her skin.

Now he is making such a big effort and he's still not giving up. And, she's still doing her thing. Pushing him away. Because everything with him was always scary, and new and big. She's not ready for whatever wonderful thing he has to offer. Rhonda knows that if this boy gives his heart to her, he will give her the whole piece and she might not know what to do with it, she might break it.

The thought just terrifies her.

Maybe it's time for her to try getting used to it.

"I'm sorry. I was being a bitch," she said.

"No, you were–"

"Yes, I was. Please, sit down and we'll start with this over again," she said.

He smiled uneasily before slipping into the booth again.

"So, what are your, um, sorry…" she paused to gather her thoughts. He waited patiently with a hint of self-satisfaction in the corner of his lips. She played it aloof. "What do you want to eat?"

"I thought you were leaving," he said.

"I was," Rhonda replied simply. Curly stared at her, urging her to go on.

"And now you're here, and since you want to talk, we could add dinner to that, can't we?" she said. He loved the way her voice got softer with every word.

He grinned that one-sided grin he often wore when he was ridiculously pleased. At this stage, she knew that grin all too well. It reminded her of won baseball games, a trip to Lorenzo, and an incident at the waterpark that they agreed never to speak to about anyone. Ever.

"We can," he agreed.

"Great."

She called for the waiter and ordered a carbonara while he opted for a lasagna. When their food arrived, Rhonda who usually had good table manners, dug in ferociously in a great hurry.

"Wow, somebody's hungry," he commented, as he watched her, his eyes filled with amusement.

"I'm starving," she said in between bites. "Sue me."

Deep inside, the the fact that she amused him thrilled her.

He laughed and dug into his own dish. It was quiet for a while as they ate their own meals. The cling clang of the cutlery only stopped when they would make accidental eye contact. Then, they would resume eating, a blush appearing on their young faces.

Thaddeus could not take the silence anymore. He spoke up.

"Do you remember that night?" he asked, after a big bite.

"What night?" she asked, acting dumb. She knew exactly what night he was talking about and she had no plans to discuss it.

"You know, the one with the party."

There was a noticeable lull. Rhonda paused for a moment, a ball of pasta near her throat. She was not going to choke, not in front of him.

She swallowed then answered carefully. "Oh, that night."

"Yeah."

He continued to stare at her as she tried to ignore that burning sensation at the back of her throat. He was being no help at all. She grabbed the nearest glass of water and chugged it down. She took her sweet time putting down the glass, oozing calm even though on the inside she was about to burst.

"I do remember that night," she admitted. She could not read his face, it was unusually neutral and pissed her off to no end.

He nodded, confusing Rhonda. He just wanted to know that?

"I'm glad," he said, meeting her eyes. The lack of the glasses disturbed her. There was no barrier between their gaze.

She felt bare and exposed. As though he could see straight to her soul. There was only silence for a while.

As clichéd as it sounded, Rhonda felt as if time stopped. Only the two of them exists. That she could spend an eternity staring at his soulful, beautifu– Oh stop it Rhonda, you're becoming fucking sentimental.

She shook her head to clear her delusion as he looked at her with a mixture of concern and confusion.

"I push you away too much," she said, snapping out of the trance. She felt a great relief after admitting it.

His eyes widen, it was quick but she caught it. He didn't expect her to say that at all. His lips reduced to a thin line as he rested his elbows on the table. He seemed nearer when he did this, his face a little too close to hers. She leaned back.

"I deserve it. I come off to strong sometimes, don't I?" he asked. "Especially in elementary school. You had to put me in my place."

He tried to wave it off with a laugh but she saw right through it.

She shook her head. "Maybe it's too much."

Curly smiled. "Nah, you can't always accept my affection. You have to play hard to get sometimes," he joked.

That was the thing though, she never accepted his affections. Scared it might touch her too deeply. That maybe he would make a mark. Knowing he already did.

"How many times do I have left?" she asked. She knew about his obsession with numbers.

"25."

"Ask me today."

"Will you go to prom with me?"

"Maybe."

Curly smiled and reached for her hand on the table, he took her fork and fed her Carbonara. Rhonda's heart grew.

#082 - Be Aggressive!

The deafening roar of the crowd, the sweat of agile bodies, and the rush of a touchdown; elements of a typical football game. The action was not happening on the field or on the bleachers, but under it.

Curly whispered into Rhonda's ear, "I told you there was a way to escape them."

She laughed and hit his shoulder. "You are a bad influence! I'm supposed to be there with my team."

His brows furrowed as he leaned in closer. "Isn't the cheering part over?"

She sighed. "You don't go to these often, do you?"

Rhonda could feel his laugh course through her as he buried his nose on the crook of her neck. "Obviously," came the muffled reply.

"Hmm," she moaned. "You are extremely good at necking. Is it an inborn skill or practiced?"

"Teasing me again, Ms. Lloyd? When will you ever learn? And I deem it to be an inborn skill thanks to my superior genes. I've never really had a lot of ladies to practice on."

"Am I the first one?" she exclaimed dramatically, batting her eyelashes.

"Yes, my sweet," he laughed before wrapping his arms around her waist and claiming her lips. "Would you go to prom with me?" he emphasized each word with a peck.

She didn't answer.

He had asked her about six times since Friday. This would be the seventh since the beginning of their "dating history". And every single time he asked her and she turned him down, she would feel the guilt eat away at her soul.

The dating consisted of eating together, kissing, watching movies in his room, and visits to her house. They never showed public displays of affection and rarely talked to each other in school. No one knew what was really going on with them but Rhonda told him that Nadine was starting to suspect.

And the reason no one knew about their relationship was because she was very adamant that she wasn't ready for everyone to know about it. They were discreet. At first, Curly thought it was thrilling but that got old fast. In two weeks actually.

He despised the fact that she cares so much what other people thought. He wanted to tell the world that he loved her. He wanted to show her off, not in a boasting way but as a declaration of how deep his feelings ran. He wanted to be free to caress her cheek in public and kiss her senseless when she needs to be taught a lesson. But there was a problem...

He stopped kissing her. His lips immediately missed hers but he had to talk to her about this. As he stared into her eyes, there was a depressing realization.

He saw her through a tunnel vision and his body temperature dropped instantly.

"What is it?" she asked, visibly concerned.

"You're never going to prom with me, are you?" he whispered. "No matter how many times I ask… You're always going to say no."

She hesitated for a beat and he knew he had the answer. He was good for making out under the bleachers but not good enough to meet her friends or be brought home to mommy and daddy. He promised himself that if their little fling ended he wouldn't cry. He knew it would end. He was a realist. Being with Rhonda, his life-long dream, was too good to be true. He squeezed his hands into fists to make sure he wouldn't break that promise, not in front of her. No matter how much it feels like his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

"What is your obsession with prom? It's just an event," she said nervously, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"I'm asking you why is it that you are making out with me when you'd rather be dead than be seen in public with me?"

He backed away a few steps from her, unable to be too close to her. He needed space. He needed to breathe. More oxygen. More distance.

Her eyes narrowed in anger. "That's not fair. I had lunch with you just yesterday. THAT was in the school's cafeteria. A public place." Rhonda's tone was angry at first but soothing at the end, as though she was trying to calm him down.

"Yeah, but there were Arnold, Helga, Gerald, Sid, Stinky, Nadine, Phoebe, and Harold in that table. It was PS118 lunch reunion. You barely talked to me throughout."

"You are being ridiculous right now!" she snapped.

"Am I?" he asked in a dry tone.

She continued to glare at him with her arms across her chest.

"Yes, you are. Where is this coming from?"

He didn't answer her. He couldn't say it yet.

"Curly?" she said.

"You're ashamed to be seen with me in public," he said. He didn't need a confirmation. He saw the truth in her eyes.

"That's not true," she said, her voice breaking just a little bit at the end.

"Yes, it is. It's the reason why I can't kiss you, hug you, or talk to you in public. Heaven forbid I bring you to a school event like prom as my date. You'll kiss me and tell me all your secrets in dark closets but you can't tell the whole world what I am to you."

It was a well thought out, a logical explanation of her actions. It broke him just saying it.

"I'm not ready for it!" she said in a panicked way that made him hurt as well. "I'm not ready for anything serious. You know that! What's important is I am with you now…" she tried to reach for him but he shrugged her off.

"It's sad how you want everyone's approval. It's not that you don't like me, it's because I'm on the list of People Rhonda Lloyd Should Never Date."

She flinched. His words had obviously hurt her as much as it was hurting him. But it was the truth and it was long overdue.

Rhonda shook her head. "That's not it at all." Her eyes had become glassy with tears. "I am not ashamed of you," she said softly.

"Deep down, you are," he said before turning away from her walking away.

"This is so stupid!" he heard her say. "Come back here."

He continued.

"I love you!"

He wasn't sure if he imagined it or it was real. He didn't stop. He was tired.

"Thaddeus, please..."

#100 - All The Small Things

They passed the hallways without so much as a sideways glance. It hurt and as therapy, he wrote letters to her ending with the same question, "Will you go to prom with me?" He never sent the letters. Kept them in a small file that he would lug around. He was a sick, sick bastard, he thought as he remembered all of the things he'd done through the years. All for Rhonda.

But today, a day before prom, he wanted to ask her in person. The 100th question. No more letters and excuses, no more cowardice, insecurities and lies.

So instead of avoiding her like any other day after the incident, he waited for her math class to end, skipping his own history class just so that there was no chance of missing her.

They saw each other at exactly 2:57pm. She came out of the flushed, ready to rush off to somewhere and her beauty, it always had, caught him off guard. Almost knocked him out.

Her hair fell in those straight strands of shiny ebony and her lips were full and pouty. He resisted the urge to kiss her right then and there.

When she spotted him, an awkward pause was followed by odd body language. Rhonda had her arms cross and retreated into herself so much, she could probably form into a ball and roll away. Curly had his longs limbs shaking in anxiety and tension.

Both hopeless when it came to romance.

"It's the day before prom," he said, as if he was just mentioning that it rained.

She nodded, careful that her eyes don't land on his face.

"It's the 100th time I'm gonna ask you."

"Bullshit," she said, looking up. "It would be the 83rd time."

He shook his head. "No." He pulled out the letters in his file and handed it to her. She accepted them without saying a word, her expression blank but he saw the way her hands shook as she received them.

"There's a question on every single one of them," he said, looking at her, asking him to forgive his stupidity. But all he saw was anger, and rightly so, he was an asshole the last time they spoke. And he didn't even knew where it came from. It was just fear. Fear that she would leave him so he made it easier, he would leave her instead.

"I see," she said coldly.

"I just wanted to ask you the last one in person."

"Okay," she said, again, without any emotion.

"Would you do me the honor of going to prom?" he asked. Hoping in his heart that she'll say yes. He still wants her, even after all the shit that went down. He was stupid and it was all his fault. It was all his insecurities.

Before she said anything, he could tell from the pained grimace as Rhonda clutched the letters close to her person what the answer would be. "I'm sorry. I said yes to someone else already."

Curly's heart stopped. "Who?"

"Miles."

"Oh," was all he could utter. "O'Connor huh?" he said, his voice shaky and low. The tears were not far behind, he feared.

She nodded. Of course, she'll go with the school's handsome point guard.

"When did he ask you?" Curly said before he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth. He didn't really want to know. He didn't want to hear about it.

"Just yesterday, actually."

"Oh, I guess… Well, this is awkward then," he started to kid, to get a laugh out of the situation but she must have sensed his immense pain because her hand reached out to him.

"Curly…"

"It's fine," he said, trying his best not to break down. "It's just a dance."

It was the second time he walked away from her.

#101 - My Way

I hung up after calling Miles. Curly's 100 prom questions were finally over.

That stupid boy…

I took a bus to his house, a rare thing. I never take public transportation. But I didn't want to bring notice to myself by driving an expensive car into his neighborhood. It had to be unexpected, I had to catch him off guard.

I read all the letters before I called my date to cancel. Luckily, Miles was an understanding fellow.

Unlike the insecure doofus I love.

He was right though. I was ashamed of him. It took a confrontation to make me realize that. Now that I do, I find no reason to hide him anymore. I don't care if anybody knows he's long as he's mine.

So that I don't feel empty and sad and mopey and angry. As if there is a part of me missing. I just want him back. I don't care what my friends would say, I don't care what people would think because believe it or not, Thaddeus "Curly" Gammelthorpe makes me happy.

He understands me. He knows I can be vain, selfish and cold, he still loves me. He knows I have this weird thing with my ears and if you stare at them you will notice their crookedness, I pointed this out to him and he still finds me adorable. He knows I like to eat a lot of crap secretly then feel guilty about it afterwards. To avoid this during our brief time together, he would cook me healthy lunches that he would pass to me every morning before school began.

The dedication he puts in for every single thing is amazing.

I love him. It took me a few years to realize my feelings but I do.

I would miss him so much if he's gone. I did. I miss him so much when he didn't talk to me anymore and didn't ask me to the prom every single day. I miss smiling at him at lessons and in between. I miss eating the food he prepared. I miss him telling me I am beautiful even though I only got four hours of sleep and had horrible eye bags because of staying up all night to complete my Civil War essay.

I love him. I have to tell him before this ridiculous distance between us grows.

And, it's the night before prom.

We're going to be just fine. I breathe in and out deeply a couple of times to calm my frayed nerves.

I was sweaty and nervous when I got off the stop near his house. About fifteen yards away, across the street, I immediately knew it was a slow day at the dry cleaner's since nobody was inside except him. He was behind the counter doing some accounting.

So fully engrossed was he in counting money that until I opened the door to the shop and the little golden bell rang, he didn't notice I was there. He looked up, distracted, and his eyes went wide at the sight of me.

"Before you say anything," I start, "I want to get this off my chest."

He looked extremely puzzled. And sad. I want to take that pain away.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, halfway to standing up as if he couldn't decide whether to stand fully or sit back down. He just paused in that position.

I would pity his confounded stare if I wasn't having an inner emotional turmoil myself.

"You've asked me a hundred times," I began to say.

"–Really Rhonda, there's no need to…"

"Let me finish," I said, becoming increasingly agitated.

"You shouldn't be here, you should be going to the prom with Mil–"

"Could you just she up for a second?" I cut in.

He paused and then glared. "Fine."

I sighed. "I'm not here to pick a fight with you."

He cocked an eyebrow at that. "Then what are you here for?"

"I'm here to ask you to prom."

No answer. Just dead silence for the next moment or two as he stared at me with disbelief. He finally stood up, lifting the counter, he made his way to my side. His height was intimidating and I had to control myself from not flinching when he came nearer.

"What did you just say?" he asked, quite incredulous.

"You heard me. I'm not saying it again," I said, slowly backing away.

Curly leaned in nearer, his chunky black glasses perched on the tip of his long, gorgeous nose. His breath tickled my face as he said, "What makes you think you can come here and just start spouting nonsense like that?"

"I'm not spouting nonsense. I'm asking you to the prom."

He backed off a little bit, surprised at my reply. He laughed bitterly, "Like you said, it's just a stupid dance. Go home, Rhonda."

But I could tell, he didn't want me to move. He wanted me to stay and be kissed by him over and over again.

"Will you go with me?" I whispered.

"Leave," he stated firmly.

"Answer me then, I'll leave after I get a response," I said.

He considers this for some time then with a straight face boldly replied, "No."

I wasn't giving up. "You can't just say no to me!"

Curly started to look smug again. "I did and I can."

He turned to get back to his accounting but I grabbed his wrist before he could go. He looked at me in surprise and I took his shock as an opportunity to raise myself up to meet his lips. And it was bliss. He tasted the same. Like cotton candy and mint in the same delicious flavor that goes well over my tongue. I felt him pulling away but I latched on to him by wrapping my arms around his neck.

His whole body stiffened. He was trying to fight it.

I deepened the kiss and stroked his hair. I'm not giving up.

His hands find my waist. I thought he would hold me but he just pulled my away from him.

"Stop."

"No," I said. "Stop trying to push me away."

His fingers caress my cheek and he whispered, "We can't… We can't do this. I'm, I'm slightly insane and love you too much. I am on meds. I go over-the-top sometimes and I get weird obsessed with different things every month. You were just one of those obsessions that stuck over the years but now, I'm taking charge of my life. I'm getting rid of this, whatever this weird thing between us is."

"You can't," I said with a knowing smile.

"Why the hell can I not?" he said.

"You can't get rid of me that fast. Not now."

He was trying his best to appear bored. "Why not now?"

I struggle to find the words but sometimes getting straight to the crux of the matter was important.

"I love you. Because I love you. And God forbid something like my ego and your 'weirdness', as you put it, keep us apart. You've waited nearly fifteen years for me and I have resisted you for as long as that period. I think we owe it to ourselves to just give in, right?"

He was stunned into silence.

"You love me?" he asked, with that cute unsure face.

"Yes," I said, nodding happily, not caring if the tears were starting to fall.

"I love you," he breathed before descending to my swollen lips, his fingers gripping my shirt in a sudden show of passion. Oh, how this man gets me hot.

We kissed until our lips were chapped. We kissed until it was decided that we should shut the blinds and put on the 'Closed' sign at the glass door. We kissed until we reached the back part of the store where all the clothes are. Then, he placed me atop one of the machines and, for sure, the tumble dry function was not the only thing that shook the washing machine. When we reached the sweaty climax of our frantic lovemaking, he grinned at me and whisper, he breath coming in short spurts, "Yes, I have decided. I think I will go to prom with you."

I haven't stopped smiling since.