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CHAPTER TWO:

Spill

PHINEAS

Half-empty Vodka bottle discarded on the floor. A pair of heels, too.

Clothing disheveled. Heck, clothing completely out of place. Wildly tousled hair.

And hands, gosh, the hands… frozen now, like the rest of them, but caught in extremely precarious stages of roaming.

All the evidence was there, but for the life of me, I couldn't process what I was seeing. No one could, apparently, because there was only staring. Horrible, awkward staring. At Ferb. At Isabella. At the bafflinglyshort distance my eyes needed to wander to switch between them. Wide, startled staring by all parties involved, dragging silence with it and coating the entire hall in what I could only describe as what?!

What?!

"Phineas," Ferb gasped again, only it wasn't a question this time. Hearing it—and how weird when Ferb, of all people, was the one to break the silence—jolted the gears grinding against each other in my brain.

"I, uh—you—I thought we should…" My hand shot to my forehead and ran a line through my hair. I'd thought we should head home, but I had no idea what I thought now. I couldn't think! How was anyone supposed to after something like this was dumped on them out of nowhere? After finding them—and they'd been so…

Woah.

Okay. Regroup.

1. Ferb and Isabella were astoundingly and uncharacteristically drunk.

2. They'd spirited away into a dark, secluded hallway where they'd somehow ended up kissing. And that would've been a whopper I didn't know how to approach with a ten-foot pole already, only that wasn't even it. Because they hadn't been simply kissing. They'd been… well, it looked like they'd been just moments from tackling each other to the ground or something.

And 3. They were still tangled together, exactly as I found them, and I wasn't even sure they realized it. At least, they didn't seem to until my gaze trailed down to the place where my brother's hand disappeared under her skirt, cradling her thigh and holding her leg, hitched, over his hip. Oh boy.

They jolted in realization at the same time I turned on my heel.

"O—kay," I exhaled heavily, facing away from them. "Okay." Come on, Flynn. I licked my lips, reigned myself back from the cliff they'd just thrown my brain over—because what?!—and took a breath. Then I turned to try this again.

"Uh, hi… guys. Guess I finally found you?" The laughter in my voice sounded so forced, and somehow, this felt more awkward now that they'd scrambled apart. How was that even possible?

Forced as it was, my mirth wasn't returned, and I felt the lopsided grin I'd managed to muster falter. Instead, I was met with… well, I'd heard the phrase "deer stuck in the headlights" so many times. I thought it was a kind of grotesque image, but I realized it described how Ferb looked right now perfectly. He gaped at me, flushed beyond belief, seemingly stunned even though I was pretty sure I deserved the most claim on that particular emotion right now.

And Isabella?

While Ferb looked mortified, radiating hot embarrassment and incredulity in every inch of him, Isabella looked… blank. Dazed and blank, like she wasn't even here at all. My gaze connected with hers, and I would've cared more about the way hers shot away with such skittish force if not for the fact that she looked like she was going to faint.

"Let's just go home," I decided. "We won't—we'll figure out, uh… figure out this when we get home, okay?"

Ferb nodded slowly, though he didn't meet my eyes, and Isabella just continued to stare at the floor, swaying a little. I jumped forward, taking her shoulder to steady her at the same time Ferb caught the other, and she flinched as if in pain. From my touch? From Ferb's? From something else altogether? Man, I had no idea what was going on. One thing at a time, though. One foot in front of the other.

Oh, feet.

I looked down at the abandoned heels and pursed my lips. They would be a problem. There was no way she'd make it in them in her shaky state, but I was parked more than a block down the road. Ferb looked steady enough, but he was gazing at me now like he had no clue what to do. Crap, how drunk were they, exactly? But no, it didn't matter. I couldn't start asking questions yet. We just needed to problem-solve.

"Isabella, I'll give you a—Actually, we'll head outside first. Then I'll give you a piggy back ride to the car. Ferb, grab her shoes. Are you missing anything else?" I couldn't remember if Isabella had a purse. "Um, phones?"

Ferb nodded again, numbly, while Isabella stayed rooted in place, trembling.

I ran my fingers through my hair again, letting out another long, slow breath. I had no idea how to handle this, really, but we'd just have to go with the only thing I had right now. And hey, if it was the only idea I had, it was at least the best idea I had.

"Come on."

I moved from Isabella's shoulder to get a firm hold on her arm. I'd need to guide her, it seemed. Ferb blinked at me a couple times before finally coming to his senses enough to scoop her shoes off the floor. Then, checking to make sure my brother followed, I led my two drunk and confused best friends away from what I hoped hadn't been a disastrously bad decision.

The air was chillier than I'd expected, but maybe that would help sober them up. That was a thing, right? They had to be crazy drunk for this to happen. Hopefully the fresh air would do them some good.

I stopped at the bottom of the porch stairs, Isabella on the stair behind me. I figured the added elevation would make this easier.

"Alright, hop on." I held my arms out to my sides, ready to support her legs. Only, nothing happened. After a moment, I glanced back. And woah. Isabella looked at me with such anguish I felt my stomach bottom out… but I needed to get us home. It was increasingly obvious neither of them were remotely okay right now. Keep moving forward, Flynn.

I grabbed her hands, twisted around so they were wrapped around my shoulders, and hefted her up onto my back before she could do much more than let out a surprised little squeak. She wasn't heavy, and it was easy to adjust so she felt settled. Then I took hold of my brother's hand, and we were off to the car.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Ferb look at me, look away. Look at me, open his mouth, close it, and look away. Nervously bite at his lip, look back, look away.

I could no longer resist: "So, what the heck is going on?" Ferb stumbled, but I had a firm hold on his hand and continued to pull him along. "I mean, what? What did I just walk in on?"

Because this was so, so weird. Ferb and Isabella? Ferb and Isabella? What cascade of craziness could've led to this?

"It's not what it looks like," Ferb blurted out, and my short, disbelieving huff of a laugh was matched by my lifted eyebrow.

"Really?" I wasn't sure how it could be anything but exactly what it looked like. "Because it looked like you both got smashed for some reason, found a secluded place, and—and, well…" Well, the rest was obvious.

"No, but we… well, we weren't…" Ferb trailed off, and while I waited for him to go on, we lapsed back into silence.

This was the second time that Ferb was responding while Isabella stayed mute. He'd drunk enough to be openly talkative, apparently, which was absolutely bizarre. It was also weird that Isabella remained so taciturn. She was usually so emotionally open and bright, not empty and quiet. We were in all sorts of uncharted waters, and I didn't know what any of it meant.

"I mean… I guess it's not really a problem or anything." I prompted, hoping to draw further explanation from either of them. "You can obviously do whatever you want, but it's just that this was so… unexpected. I mean, you're both usually a bit more responsible. Not that I'm saying what you did was wrong or anything! Just that you never get drunk, and you've never, you know, with each other before, so..."

I hesitated. The roaming and grasping hands, the half-stifled noises and the way they'd been moving against each other. The sheer, needy desperation of it all, and I'd only witnessed a couple seconds. It'd been… intense. Really intense, like it'd been building or something.

"Uh, you've never done this before, right?"

"Wah—no!" Ferb gasped. Actually, it was more of a yelp. I had to pull him along again when he indignantly stumbled, and I glanced back, hoping to read his face. He was radiating embarrassment, and it wasn't just because I could understand him so well. And hey, the guy was entitled to a little embarrassment after getting caught drunk off his butt and madly making out with a girl at a party like a ridiculous, hormonal teenager.

Honestly, I almost wished they'd done this before. Like, if there was actually something going on between them, that seemed way healthier than whatever ended up happening tonight. If this was just a drunk thing or if it came from somewhere else, it had the potential to go up in flames.

But if this hadn't happened before, why did it happen? Why tonight? Why drunk? Did something trigger it? I'd been distracted playing cards, so I admittedly hadn't been keeping tabs on them. I never would've thought I'd have to! At least, they'd never needed me to before.

And then I remembered the one thing of significance I had seen: Vanessa. Vanessa, the raven-haired temptress for whom my brother had nursed a soft spot for over ten years. Had something happened between Ferb and her? That may explain the drinking, but even if that were the case, what could have happened between them that somehow ended up with Ferb kissing Isabella?

Was this… some kind of drunken rebounding? With Isabella? It seemed like the worst choice he could possibly make. Isabella didn't date. Not seriously, at least. She'd told me about a few dates she planned to go on through the years, kind of drilling me like my opinion on it really mattered to her, but if I were being honest, I didn't think her heart was in it.

But her heart definitely seemed to be in it tonight, at least from what I'd seen.

Huh.

There was something in that… Because Isabella wasn't the type to make out with boys at parties, of that I was certain. So did my brother start it? See Vanessa, get drunk, rebound? She was drunk and went along? I didn't know! But it wasn't like Isabella had any reason to kiss Ferb.

Did she?

Prickles, faint on the back of my neck, making my hair stand on end. A drop of moisture. Isabella's arms had tightened around my shoulders, and her tremoring shake finally registered the first time I heard a miserable little sniff.

Isabella was crying. Sad, silent crying, but it seemed she was trying her best to make sure no one noticed.

I thought about the way Isabella flinched away earlier, as if in pain. The anguish on her face. I was missing some piece of the puzzle here. But I was starting to get an idea of what that missing piece might be.

The journey was way slower than it needed to be, what with me carrying Isabella and pulling Ferb, faltering, in tow, but we finally made it to my car. I dropped Ferb's hand, did a scoop-jump to lift Isabella a little higher on my back so I could better reach my pocket, and retrieved my keys.

"Hop down, Iz," I told her, trying to sound properly cheery so I wouldn't let on that I knew about the crying. I may not be the best at emotional stuff, but it seemed pretty obvious that would probably make things worse.

She slid down off my back, but Ferb shot forward quickly and caught her when she began to buckle. She swiped quickly at her face, and I noticed her hands were shaking. Heck, her whole body was shaking. Something was wrong.

"Isabella," I began, but the moment I took her hand, she yanked it back like I'd burned her.

"No!" she yelped. She almost looked… scared. Scared, like I would hurt her. That was crazy, though. I'd never done anything to hurt Isabella before in my life. "No, no, you can't…"

I drew my hand back, my brow scrunched in concern. "Um, you don't want my help?"

I was glad she finally said something, but admittedly, this definitely wasn't what I'd been hoping for when she finally opened back up.

"I—no, I—" She swiped again, furiously, underneath her eye. "You've just—you've got to stop, stop being so—nice."

I blinked at her. "You want me to stop being nice?"

"Being—being sweet and—and earnest and innocent, I can't, I can't do this anymore."

Was I? And do what? "Um, I'm sorry?"

She flung around and buried herself against my brother's chest. Ferb barely caught himself after the force of it nearly knocked him over, but now he held her, looking down at her with so much care and concern it made me falter.

"You'll just hurt me again."

And now I faltered even more. At first, it had been from their posture… the familiarity of it. Like he held her often, comforted her through tears, but that didn't really make sense to me. Isabella was rarely upset, and besides, if Ferb spent any time comforting her, there was no reason he wouldn't tell me about it. And now this? You'll just hurt me again? Was she talking to Ferb or to me? What hurt her?

"Izzy, what does that—"

"You'll just hurt me again!" she cried, and my heart jumped right up to my throat. This time, I got the feeling she was talking to me, but I'd hurt her again?

"I've never hurt you," I blurted out. Oof, amend that. "I mean, I never meant to hurt you about anything. If I did, you know I'm sorry, right?" I looked to Ferb, back to her again. "Uh, but I don't exactly know what you're talking about."

"Phineas," Ferb muttered in warning, and his tone said it all: I had to stop. Now.

"What?" I questioned. "But—"

"Phineas," Ferb repeated, shaking his head now firmly. "No, we're not—we're getting in the car, we're putting on music, and we're going home." He shot me a pointed look that said, That's all we're doing, and we need to do it right now. Please.

"Uh, yeah. Okay… I guess."

I didn't know what was going on, but Ferb seemed to know what he was talking about and I didn't want to make things worse. Especially when Ferb so fixedly verbalized it. He really meant it. But how was I supposed to just ignore whatever was wrong?

I opened the front door and Ferb gently pressed Isabella towards it. Her face had gone blank again, taken over by that empty, numb look. I was confused and concerned now more than ever, but I figured my brother had a point. All of this—whatever it was—would be best handled at home.

I got in, started the car, and took a little more time than was probably necessary connecting my phone and selecting some mellow tunes. I just needed a moment to collect myself, really. A moment away from all the emotional crazy this night had become.

A faint clinking came from the right, and I realized Isabella's hands were trembling so violently she was struggling to get her seatbelt unwound at the clip and buckled. Completely forgetting how poorly this ended moments ago, I reached forward to help, and she made the most wounded whimpering noise. It was like my proximity had punched her right in the gut.

Thankfully, Ferb beat me to the buckle anyway from his place in the back seat, taking her shaking hands in one of his and snapping the seatbelt into place with the other. Then they both froze, staring down at the place where their fingers were tangled. Their gazes peeked up, and when they met, they both skittered back, like the physical contact was overwhelming. They looked a little pink now, I could see it even in the dim light.

What?!

But then Isabella saw me again, seemed to suddenly remember I was here after whatever had just exchanged between my brother and her. It was a strong reminder to throw my car into reverse and get this crazy train heading home.

As Ferb suggested, the car ride was quiet save the soft music. Whenever I rolled up to a stoplight or sign, I stole a glance at Isabella or at Ferb with my rearview mirror. Isabella stared straight ahead looking like she'd just watched someone kick a puppy. Or, even worse, like she was the puppy that had been kicked. But Ferb? Ferb kept stealing similar glances towards our old neighbor, his expression caught somewhere between concern and stunned bafflement.

I'd been wondering if Ferb had somehow hurt her, but that seemed ridiculous. Like me, he'd never do anything to hurt her. Intentionally, at least. At the same time, I'd never seen Isabella like this. She was the emotional rock for all of our friends, the one they went to for support, advice, and, when the situation called for it, a comforting bowl of ice cream. It was Isabella. I'd never known her to be anything but strong and determined. This? This was just…

You're missing a piece of the puzzle, I reminded myself. There's something you haven't figured out yet. And I thought back to earlier, when I wondered what reason they could have possibly had to end up like this. For Ferb, I was guessing rebounding. But for Isabella… maybe it was something else.

"Here we are," I muttered when I pulled up to the condo Ferb and I shared. "It's probably best if you just stay here with us tonight, Iz. You can just share with one of us." Then I registered what I'd said. "Or Ferb and I will share, actually. I mean obviously. That's obviously the less weird choice. Or I'll take the couch, if you want."

They weren't stopping my embarrassed blather, so bit my own tongue to cut myself off. Oi vey, I was tired.

I pulled my keys from ignition and retrieved my phone. Then I gave myself one more deep breath before glancing at the others, who were already vacating the car. They both seemed… sullen, now. The best thing was probably just to get them to bed. I headed for the door, relieved when I saw in my peripheries that they followed.

As a stuck my keys in the door, I felt Isabella's head drop against the back of my arm. She sniffled, and I wondered if she was trying to hide quiet tears again. It was such a dejected posture, but I supposed it was at least good she wasn't violently flinching away from me. It was an improvement, right?

"Does this mean you're not mad at me?" I ventured as I opened the door and dropped my keys on the counter. Isabella was a sad, solemn mess beside me, but thankfully, she shook her head.

"I could never—never be mad at you, Phineas," she sniffed. "That's the problem."

She looked up at me through her lashes, still a little wet, and it suddenly felt like my heart was getting stabbed with a stick.

"The problem?" I blinked. "What's the problem?"

Oh no, those silent tears were back. Crap. But this time, instead of staring off at nothing, she was staring at me, staring through me, and I realized she was more than just upset. She was somewhere on the spectrum closer to heartbroken.

"Isabella," I began, but Ferb suddenly stepped between us. He took my shoulders, and I was so taken by surprise, he had no problem spinning me back around and pushing me farther into our space, towards the bedrooms.

"Wait, wait," I protested, and if there was any time I had a physical advantage over my brother, it was when he was plastered. I twisted back around, caught his insistent hands from pushing me farther. "Ferb—"

"Phineas," he returned, and his expression was vehement: Give her space.

Giver her space? "What did I do?"

I glanced around Ferb's shoulder, back at Isabella, who watched us silently, her hand over her mouth. She looked like she was on the verge of a panic attack. Perhaps most perplexing of all, though, was when my brother cringed, like he knew the answer and didn't want to share it. I knew him well enough to tell.

Ferb shifted, positioning himself directly between us again, and when he spoke, his voice was urgent but quiet, like he was trying to keep Isabella from hearing him. "Phineas, please let it go. Just let her go to bed. Don't push it."

"Isabella, I want to help." I spoke directly to her, shifting to look past Ferb's shoulder despite his efforts. "You know you're one of my best friends, so—"

Isabella was a blur as she ran past me, and I hadn't even had the time to turn around before the bathroom door swung shut and the lock clicked. From the other side, I heard a single sob that was quickly muffled, probably by a hand towel.

"Fuck." It was the faintest exhale of breath as Ferb turned on his heel, hand darting to the back of his neck as his gaze shot up to the ceiling. I could tell from his posture: I'd just messed up.

Well, crap. Maybe I should have listened to him.

But at the same time, maybe I should just get a straight answer.

"Okay, Ferb, I seriously need to know what's going on." I moved around in front of him, propping my hands on my hips a delivering my most stern glare. "How did we all go from—well, from how I found you two earlier to this?"

I watched him, waiting for an explanation, even bouncing up on my toes to try to meet his gaze, which was still glued to the ceiling. After a moment, he dropped to glowering at the floor, his lips pursed like he was trying not to say anything. Weirdness. Ferb never had to try not to say something. Like, ever.

I took his arm, pulled it and his shoulder so he had to look at me. "What happened between you two?"

And somehow, some reason, that broke the surface..

"I don't know!" Ferb exclaimed, throwing his arms out. "I don't know, Phineas, but this isn't—this isn't about me."

"Pretty sure it has to be now," I laughed. "Seriously, how much alcohol does it take to convince you that kissing Isabella Garcia-Shapiro was a good idea?" At my blunt question, he froze altogether. He went completely rigid, and I swallowed hard. "And you weren't just kissing. I mean, you were…"

I held my hands close together, then sort of twisted them around each other, because I really couldn't find the words or will to say it.

But Ferb only raised an eyebrow at me. Curse him.

"She was—you were—I mean, come on, Ferb, you were all in her shirt and her skirt was all—and she was grabbing you, and you were moving—Well, you were all over each other! You were—"

"Does it matter?" he cut me off, and even though it was so quiet, my voice still stumbled to a stop.

"Does it matter?" I repeated, my brow dropping in confusion, but Ferb only nodded.

"Does it matter? What we were doing and why."

Huh.

"Because… it seems like it bothers you," he continued.

Did it?

"Um… yeah, I guess it does," I realized, and now it was my turn to awkwardly rub the back of my neck. It did bother me, quite a bit.

Ferb nodded, like he'd been expecting that. I guess that made sense. He'd noticed before I had. Now he seemed to be debating himself, like he wasn't sure if he should or shouldn't say something else, but curiosity must have won out. "Why?"

It'd probably be kind of fun for Ferb to get drunk more often if it meant him talking this much, but I could have done without the surrounding gravity of it all.

And while I hadn't fully realized it at first, all the pieces started coming together. They collapsed in on each other, finally fitting, finally taking shape. I finally saw the big picture I'd been missing all this time, right there in front of me in blaring lights. And, just as clearly, I knew exactly why all of this bothered me so much.

"Ferb… listen," I sighed. "It's just—I know you love someone else. You've always loved someone else, and I just… I don't want you accidentally hurting Isabella or leading her on because you're stuck on an old flame. That's all I'm saying."

Ferb's jaw dropped, and he wielded the most startled expression I'd ever seen. "Wait," he said, blinking rapidly as if trying to decide if he'd misheard me. "Wait, wait."

He was shaking his head in total disbelief, as if what I said were completely preposterous—which it wasn't!

"Don't you understand?" I rushed on when I saw I was losing him. "Ferb, it's you! It's always been you!"

He looked utterly shocked, his mouth opening, closing again, like he had no idea what to do, what to say. But that was okay. I could explain it.

"I mean, think about it. Why she's never really dated, why she went to all the dances with us, why she turned down full scholarships to other places just to go to the same college as us! It's you!"

And he took off, just like Isabella did. Only, instead of closing up in a room, he jetted towards the kitchen, pacing the length of our island, back and forth, with his hands steepled over his mouth.

Oh boy, the spiral. I jumped in front of his blazing path and caught his shoulders before he could continue. I needed a different approach, but before I could try, he blurted out one word: "What?"

"Well think about it," I told him as gently as I could. "She's always so dreamy about things she wants but always hung around us instead of getting involved with other guys. This must be the reason! Because she's had feelings for you the whole time, and—"

"Wait," Ferb repeated, and his hands clapped down on the top of my shoulders. "Wait, Phineas, wait—"

"No, we need to talk about this," I insisted. "This doesn't have to be a bad thing! I'm just saying, did it ever occur to you that she could—"

"Did it ever occur to me?" he snapped, and there was an edge to his tone now.

"Yeah?"

"You think Isabella has always loved me," he reiterated, his voice lilting almost to a laugh as he shook his head, and I threw my hands out to the sides.

"You act like that's ridiculous, but come on, bro! It makes complete sense. I can't believe you never noticed—"

He stormed away from me again, and for one crazy second, I thought he was charging out the door, but he stopped short. His breaths were heavy, his hands manic as they moved up through his hair.

"God, you don't even know!" he groaned. "You don't get it! You don't get it, Phineas, you don't!"

"Then explain it to me!" I called over him.

"I—can't!"

Those two words punched right through me. I didn't believe there was anything my brother couldn't tell me.

"Can't tell me? Or won't?"

"Won't. Can't. Both! I just, gah!" Ferb buried his face in his arms against the back of the door, and I realized… well, I had been so caught up on Isabella's obvious heartache that I hadn't fully realized that my brother was kind of messed up right now, too.

In fact, he was hurting. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it until now, but it was in his shoulders, in their shake, and in the way that his hands were tight fists where they propped him against the door. Why hadn't I seen it earlier? He was hurting in the same way Isabella was, the exact same way, it seemed, only he was so much better at hiding it.

"Ferb," I said, gentler. I decided to rein things in. We really didn't need to discuss this now. Now that I saw… this. Saw my brother drunk and falling to pieces at our door. Literally! He turned his back to the wood and slid down to the floor.

Oh god. Oh god. What the heck was happening? He wrapped his arms around himself and buried his face in his knees, and I never knew my foot could taste so nasty.

"Oh gosh! Oh—Ferb! Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!" I didn't even know what I was sorry for, but whatever it was, I was pretty sure it just broke my brother.

Unless…

"Wait, do you like her?" It was perhaps the stupidest thing I could say right now, and when Ferb didn't even move, I corrected myself: "I mean, I know you like Vanessa. You've always liked her, since we were kids." For better or worse, whether it was going anywhere or not, he'd always been hung up on her.

He still didn't budge an inch from his personal cocoon, and I bit my lip. I needed to do some serious backpedaling. I knelt down beside him and took his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay if you feel conflicted. You know, being hung up on Vanessa and then realizing Isabella's always liked you. It's a lot to process. Why don't you sleep on it?"

This time, Ferb let out a breath. He lifted his head from his arms, and there was so much pain in his expression, so much I didn't understand. He licked his lips, exhaled again, and then finally, finally met my eyes.

"She likes you, Phineas. It hasn't been me. Isabella has always liked you."

What?

"Isabella doesn't like me." It tumbled out of my mouth with something like a laugh. "That's ridiculous!"

Ferb stared at me, intent. He didn't have to say anything else. It was there, in his gaze: it was true.

It was true?

So… wait.

So all the things I'd said to Ferb, my whole point about how maybe there had been a reason why Isabella sent perfectly nice and charming guys packing without even so much as a glance, a reason for us being so close, and all of that… I had been right. I had been absolutely right. Only I had been drastically, drastically wrong on the single most important point.

It was me Isabella had been pining for. Me she'd been holding out for, not Ferb.

Which meant it was because of me that she'd cried such horrible, upset tears.

Oh boy.

This was a lot to take in.

I sat down hard next to Ferb, taking up the remainder of the door. Who'd of ever thought we'd end up in this situation, two grown men huddled up like children on the floor together after the adult world broke their brain?

The problem was, I was a logical person. After I'd built up this whole argument about Isabella liking Ferb, how much that made sense, how much that explained… well, there was no denying the logic in it all. I'd had my evidence and I'd stacked it up so neatly. And just as logically as I put that all together into the theory that Isabella liked Ferb this whole time, I also realized one could easily switch the variables right out. Replace 'Ferb' with 'Phineas' and it all still made sense.

It made sense. And for the life of me, I wasn't prepared for that.

"I can't argue with my own logic," I muttered to myself as I stared on in shock. "Crap, Ferb…"

First, I found the two of them and now everything I thought I knew about my oldest and closest friend just imploded like a dying star. Because Isabella apparently liked me. Liked-me, liked me. Romantically. A crush. Me.

But even as my mind was catapulted into a swamp of complete and utter confusion, I could still only think one thing: then why the heck was she kissing my brother? Well, and along that same line of thought… if Ferb knew all along that she liked me, then why was he kissing her? Something didn't add up.

How was I supposed to handle this? I didn't think I liked Isabella that way. Don't get me wrong, she was my favorite person on the planet besides my brother. She was amazing. She was my best friend and—oh, oh man. That was how I'd messed up earlier! I guess me helpfully going on about how we were such good friends probably made things worse for her. Good job, Flynn. No wonder she ran off to the bathroom.

What now, though? Where did this leave us? Even if we tried to see if there was something between us, which I had no idea what that would look like… Well, there had just been something about seeing Ferb and her together. A small spring of hope through all the shock that maybe Ferb was finally moving past Vanessa. That he was finally taking a risk with his feelings for once in his life.

And to take that risk with Isabella? If this wasn't just a drunk thing, if this could actually work out somehow, Isabella would look after my brother. She'd need him. She'd appreciate him. Vanessa was cool and I liked her just fine, but it'd been obvious for a long time that she'd only ever break Ferb's heart through the honest act of being herself.

Heck, she'd done that already. Over and over.

And over… and over…

Oh god.

"I'm Vanessa," I blurted out, and Ferb went stiff beside me.

"What?"

"I'm Vanessa," I repeated as I slapped my hand against my forehead. "I'm Vanessa! It's exactly the same! Oh my god, how did I never see it? I'm the impossible chase, the moony-eyed infatuation that won't go anywhere, and I've been hurting her!"

Ferb frowned down at his feet, and I knew this probably wasn't easy for him to talk about or hear, but this might actually be a blessing in disguise. If I was Vanessa and this whole thing was exactly the same super freaky parallel, then maybe Ferb could help me figure this out. Because if I was Vanessa, then Ferb's Isabella, and if Ferb's Isabella, then I could figure out the best way for me to do this.

"What would you want if the roles were reversed?" I asked Ferb, clutching his arm. "Like, if you had to have this talk with Vanessa? What would you want her to say?"

Ferb's mouth popped into an alarmed little oh and he stared at me like I'd lost my mind.

"Come on," I begged him. "For Isabella. I don't want to hurt her any more than I already have, you know? So what would you have me say? Please!"

Out of everything, this seemed to sober Ferb up the most. I supposed that kind of made sense. He'd been the most composed tonight when she was the most hurting, like a watchdog. A green-haired emotional watchdog that barked at anyone who dared to throw hurt in Isabella's direction before curling up on her lap again and nuzzling her hands. Oh my god, why did that mental image make so much sense now?

I kept my eyes on my brother as he studied his hands, deliberating. Then he said, "I can't tell you what to say, Phineas. Just tell her the truth. For the love of god, just… just be honest. Gentle… but honest. Because she can't keep drowning like this."

"But I don't know how to say it," I insisted, "and I don't want to mess this up! I mean, I've never thought of her like that, and the last thing I want to do now is keep hurting her. She'll have to—I don't know. Get over me, right? She'll have to move on."

"Oh."

It was a little gasp, an intake of breath that was so sharp we could hear it all the way from across the room. Across the room, where the bathroom door stood slightly ajar. Where Isabella stood peeking out. Her eyes were fixed on mine, her face an expression of stunned grief.

Oh. Oh man.

That… hadn't exactly been gentle.

Crap.

- Fin Chapter Two -

You know, my new sort of writing style for chapter one really took me by surprise. When I stepped into Isabella's head and her emotions, that more emotionally abrupt cadence was what came out. But now I wrote from inside Phineas' head, and the writing style is once again completely different! I don't know, he just ended up coming out less jarring and more contemplative, definitely more composed. It's just cracking me up over here, because the change in voice isn't something I necessarily plan or try for. It just ends up like that. Guess these characters have a way of getting in my head and taking over. I actually *never* plan out my writing (le gasp!). I probably should, but I never can. I just throw these characters into a situation and let them lead me wherever it does.

About updates. I'm just finishing an M.A. in Writing, Rhetoric, and Composition (it's very nerve-wracking to admit that I'm a writing teacher, y'all... it feels like it opens me up for a new level of critical judgement on my writing, haha), and all I have left in that program is my thesis. It's a beast of dense critical affective theory that only an insane, masochistic person would engage with. I'm currently on my second chapter, 53 pages in, and I'm proud to report that I've written 21 paragraphs this week! That sucks up a lot of my writing energy and mental prowess. To top it all off... I'm also dual-enrolled in a *second* masters program: an M. Ed. in higher education. Yeah, I know, guys... I have a serious problem. I could rant for days about how it's possible to get TWO master's degrees and still not be old enough to rent a car! *grumble grumble* But that's a problem I'm incredibly, incredibly privileged to have, so it's not right for me to complain. Anyways, the point is I'm not entirely sure when I'll get these out to you, but I'm really enjoying the re-write, and that should fuel me.

You know what else might fuel me? Reviews! I'm sorry to sit here and grovel for reviews. I'm certainly not trying to be annoying. They just lift my spirit so much, hearing from you. I'm cripplingly insecure about my writing, and when I begin to doubt myself, I go back and re-read your kind words and bolster myself. It helps knowing you're out there and that, in this wonderful community, my writing matters. What were your thoughts on the chapter?

Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate you!

See you soon!

All my love,
Lilly-Belle