MC Something Happens 03

Irvine’s smile faded into a frown. "I’m also over six feet tall. Come on, Sel, you’ve seen me play; you know I’m good."

He slung an arm around her shoulders and walked leisurely toward the picnic area. "Selphie, my most trusted friend, there was a time when you believed in me."

"That has obviously passed," she finished for him, shrugging out from under his arm. "Why would you want to play against people you already know are better?"

"Experience. Fun. So I won’t be bored talking to you," Irvine said, grinning. Jauntily, he walked on ahead of her, whistling as he went.

The petite brunette placed a hand at her hip. "I am NOT boring," she declared almost poutedly. "Who else would give you company everyday at lunch?"

With a subtle smile, Irvine faced her. His best friend could be so cute sometimes. He placed a hand on her shoulder and sighed apologetically. "…Yeah."

For a moment, it seemed as if the situation had changed from good natured humor to somewhat sedate personal boundary violation. She had hugged Irvine countless times, on some occasions a little more than that, and yet she felt a little… different. He was so much taller, for one, and it was easier for him to hold her tightly. A little baffled, the brunette shifted a little, her back arching as she turned her head to look at him.

She started walking again, her booted feet clicking against the concrete of the Garden walkway. "To see you get beat like the basketball player you aren’t?" She smiled. "You can count on it."

Irvine shouldered her lightly. "Okay, Miss High and Mighty, at least I’ve got more coordination than the likes of you," he mused, baiting her into what he knew was going to be an interesting situation.

Selphie laughed at her position at half-court. "What? Too afraid that your measly best friend at 5’1" and a half is going to win you in a game of basketball?"

Irvine approached her, laughing inwardly at the circumstances. Here they were, using their hour lunch to battle in the court for the sake of pride. Selphie had shed her SeeD jacket and was now only wearing the white button up blouse and tie that went underneath. Her boots were placed on the bleachers next to Irvine’s, proper basketball shoes now on both their feet.

Disregarding her statement, Irvine shook his head with a small smile and reached for her collar. Confused, Selphie followed his hand with her eyes, not expecting his next movement. Almost expertly, he loosened the red tie at her throat and pulled lightly until it completely unknotted and fell from around her neck. Still not saying a word, he unbuttoned the first button of her shirt and patted the lower part of her collar comfortably in place.

Selphie nodded mutely, briefly disturbed by the fact that he felt comfortable enough to reach that close to there. The thought was knocked out of her head when he pocketed her tie and bounced the orange basketball at her. "Check."

Now, granted, Selphie was short, but in no way uncoordinated. Her height wasn’t the winning factor in getting the ball in the hoop, but her speed outran that of Irvine’s, earning her a few points.

"You know, this is the last C I can afford," Rinoa groaned as she flipped the pages of her paper. Sitting beside her, Quistis looked down at her own paper and the impending A written in red ink at the top right corner. Before the brunette’s eyes could reach it, the blonde snatched it out of view and stuffed it in her textbook.

Rinoa frowned at her, knowing full well that it was impossible for Quistis to make anything lower than an B on any paper, or any ASSIGNMENT, for that matter. Together, they stood from their seats and filed out of the classroom behind the other students who had already bee-lined it out of there for lunch.

They walked a short distance in silence, their shoulders bumping every now and then. The circular lobby was filled with SeeDs and students when they reached their destination. Drawing herself up a little straighter, Rinoa shifted her books and cleared her throat.

"If I remember correctly," she started, catching Quistis’ attention, "National Friendship Day was, oh…" she shrugged, "last, last Monday?"

Quistis brought her arm out from under her notebook and came across a white woven softness still tied proudly around her left wrist beside her watch. "Oh, that…" she said. "I got it from Irvine."

Rinoa’s chocolate eyes took in the intention. "Is there something I’m missing between you two?" she asked a little too evilly.

The sorceress entered the cafeteria ahead of her friend. "Whatever you say," she said lightly, though clearly not believing the blonde. "I’ve gotta jet after I buy something; my next class meets in the lab."

Quistis watched as she took off in the other direction, leaving her quite the loner. But then again, what else was new? She had made it through eighteen years of solitude just fine. It was something she had grown accustomed to and therefore mastered at a young age. Being alone had become her preference over the years.

She was halfway through her salad when she remembered her laptop back in her dorm room. Her next class was a lecture class, and the last thing she needed or wanted was to be reduced to scribbling notes for 90 minutes. With a poke of her plastic fork in the remaining greens in front of her, she stood and brushed herself off a little.

Momentarily adjusting the strap of her shoulder bag, she set out past the main lobby and cut through the Quad toward her room. The clamorous, distinct sound of a basketball being dribbled on Garden’s first floor gym caught her attention the closer she came and made her pause mid-stride.

Curious, she rounded the corner opposing the hallway leading to her room and peered in the gym’s open double doors. Alone out in the court were two figures, very familiar. Interested, Quistis loosely crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, watching them.

"You’re cheating!" Selphie proclaimed when Irvine passed her for a lay-up. She watched as the ball fell swiftly into the hoop, never once touching the metal rim. A frown marred her features.

"You were traveling," she informed him dryly, dribbling to the three-point line. Seemingly from nowhere, an arm circled her waist, causing her to loose her grip on the ball. She pounded on his arm. "Irvine, let go!!"

He complied, but only to chase after the basketball that was calmly rolling away from them. He barely managed to lay his hand on it before Selphie kicked it away towards the bleachers.

"Okay, screw the rules," Irvine grunted, tackling his best friend on her run for the ball. She cried out when he pinned her beneath him, her back pushing against the hard floor of the gym.

Quistis tilted her head, reaching up with her free hand to push her glasses down as she looked over the lenses in controlled surprise.

"Yeah, should have known you liked it on top," Selphie snorted, getting enough of a laugh out of her best friend to push him off. He retreated a few feet from her, conspicuously looking away as she sat up, breathing hard. "See? You were cheating," she declared, bringing herself to her feet.

Irvine massaged his temple, looking down, then away toward the bleachers... and back down again. She didn’t notice his sudden silence until she was on both feet again.

Consciously looking down, Selphie finally seemed to notice that the second button of her shirt had come undone, revealing a goodly portion of cleavage. She gasped, turning away. "Pervert!"

"Yeah, whatever," she retorted, fumbling with the button. "Doesn’t mean you didn’t see anything." While inwardly she was quite disturbed, she could see the humor in their situation. Irvine seemed to be wallowing in it.

Selphie looked over, still trying to button her shirt. "According to the three-point bonus you added to your score," she remarked sarcastically, but he didn’t seem to be listening anymore. Instead, he walked over to her and took her shirt folds from her hands. "Hey!--"

"I’m just a little…" Selphie paused, searching her vocabulary for the right answer. "… rattled," she said with some venom, glaring at him with her emerald stare.

"You’re sick," Selphie interrupted, stifling a laugh and crossing her arms protectively over her chest. With a turn on her heel, she walked briskly toward the door, knowing very well he could catch up with her even if she had a ten minute head start. Sure enough, she felt the heat from his body come up beside her before she had walked ten feet.

Now she laughed, elbowing him. He had a way of making everything seem so laid back and carefree in the world. She could never stay mad at him for too long, though it wasn’t so much anger that had disturbed her. She wouldn’t admit the other feeling she got from knowing he could be silenced by her.

"Work on it afterward," Selphie replied, checking her watch. "I’ll see you there, okay? Class starts in five minutes." With a passing wave, she took off in one direction, leaving him staring after her. Then, with a small smile and shake of his head, Irvine stuffed his hands in his pockets and continued slowly toward his next class.

It was one of those artsy places, no doubt. On the corner of one of Balamb’s activity street, it donned the name, "The Evening Muse" in medieval scrawl. Decorating its windows and entrance were stars painted against a midnight blue and even a moon dangled off the end of the name. Quistis looked up briefly at the décor before reaching for the brass handles and pushing through the entrance.

Inside, a jazz band was just beginning to fill the room with music. Nearly every seat in the establishment was filled, not that the dining area was too large in the first place. She ventured to guess that one Garden classroom was slightly larger than the entire restaurant, though not nearly as interesting to look upon. The tables were laid with a dark blue cloth which, oddly enough, had moons and stars on it that must have inspired the outside ornamentation. To her immediate right was a bar, stools for sitting, glasses shining in the low light, upside down above the counter.

It was easy to pick out her dining crew. They occupied a rectangular table fairly close to the small stage, and they were obviously looking at her too. She saw Selphie wave her on over just as a new song floated through the air.

"Fashionably late," Rinoa commented as soon as Quistis had settled down in the seat saved for her. The blonde laughed a little.

"Yeah," she agreed slowly, raising her eyebrows. She had put on a skirt for the occasion, black, simple, and stopping at her knees, along with a cream colored cardigan. For her, it wasn’t anything terribly extreme, though she had always noticed how much more casually both Rinoa and Selphie dressed in comparison to her. Even now, as she glanced at them, one at the end of table, and one across from her, they wore only jeans with ribbed sweaters.

"All right then! Let’s eat," Zell said, rubbing his hands together and earning a smile from his friends around the table.

In the back of her mind she registered that couples had begun to litter the small wooden dance floor in front of the stage, but she hadn’t thought much of it until she noticed Irvine staring across the table at her. Consciously, she set her fork down in her plate with a quiet clang. "What?" she said softly enough so that other conversations at the table wouldn’t divert their attention.

The answer was obvious, considering the small, circular plate in front of her was void of anything edible, save for the few crumbs of peanut butter pie left. She looked around the table; Squall, Rinoa, and Zell were engaged in conversation about any number of subjects and Selphie had left for the restroom a few minutes before.

She hadn’t danced much at the Garden banquets; with as much prestige as someone like herself in an equally prestigious institution, she showed for primarily the reason everyone else did—fabrication. Now, with all the act and politeness gone, Irvine was a preferred partner over the man sitting at the bar who had been staring at her for an ungodly number of minutes.

"Sure," she said after a moment’s pause, and instantly a genuine smile spread across Irvine’s face. She took his offered hand and approached the dance floor.

"It’s a slow dance, Quistis. Doesn’t take too much talent," he answered, motioning her closer with his hand. Accordingly, he clasped her right hand in his left and braced his other behind her on her shoulder blade. It wasn’t stiff in any way, just a casual positioning. They began a slow rhythm to the jazz music filling their ears. Many couples dotted the dance floor now that the night was settling in and dessert was being taken up. In a small sea of bodies, they felt somewhat more comfortable.

The shorter blonde in front of him nodded mutely, seeming to relax more as the dance continued. Drawing herself up a little more, she figured she could at least mention one subject they had in common.

The arrogance just never left. Quistis shook her head mockingly. "Maybe seeing the kids, but you? I see you everyday."

"Actually, she was really quiet in the beginning, but it got better," Quistis shifted against him a little. "Then we started picking flowers like Selphie and I used to at the orphanage. Remember?"

"… Somewhat…" he looked down momentarily. "Selphie still has this thing with flowers. We’ll be eating lunch outside on the picnic tables, and she’ll just get up and pluck some random flower out of the bushes."

Quistis nodded. "Must be a childhood thing. We liked picking them for Matron, but... Kait mentioned something I never even thought of before." As she spoke, her words became slower and more drawn out. Should she tell him about it? She even half-expected him to ask it out of her, but when he simply looked at her for some kind of an answer, she knew she had to say something.

"She said… well, first she asked me who I was picking flowers for. When she assumed my mom, I told her she wasn’t living anymore… but she told me I could put them on her grave."

She saw the same look pass on Irvine’s face as her own the week before. With the common ground of being orphans, there had always been a sort of blind acceptance of the fact that Mommy and Daddy were… dead. Or, as Selphie liked to mock it every now and then, that "they’ve gone on a long trip and won’t be coming back." Whatever the reason, the idea of having their parents’ lives remembered and marked with so much as a grave in a small graveyard was completely alien… and yet not, after one single sentence had been suggested from a little girl who was just starting out in life.

"Never really thought of it that way, did you?" Quistis said. A quiet sigh escaped her. "I wish I knew if they really had a grave. Even then I can’t automatically assume that they’re buried together. I just never realized I knew absolutely nothing about them…" she stopped, realizing she was digging a hole that she had worked so long to cover and mend.

A silent moment passed as the band played on in the background, their song coming to an end a few seconds later. The two pulled slowly away from each other, mildly surprised at the rather pleasant dance.

And with a sort of silent understanding, they returned to the table side by side, the mood very solemn suddenly. Their little party was already up out of their seats and retrieving their jackets from the backs of their chairs. They joined in the mass movement toward the counter to pay, though Quistis detoured.

"Wait for me outside; I’m going to the restroom," she said to everyone and they waved her on without much verbal response.

The amusing thing she found was that her check had suddenly jumped out of her hand at some point. A few minutes later, standing at the pay counter, she creased her brow. "I’m sorry, it seems I’ve--"

"Don’t worry, Madame, it’s taken care of," the waiter interrupted, gesturing out the doors to her friends. "The gentleman with the hat paid for you."

Quistis looked in the designated direction, blinking a few times. "Oh…" was all she seemed to be able to say. After thanking the waiter anyway, she squinted a little and observed him through the glass of the doors, now talking to Selphie in an animated conversation. The blonde couldn’t help but wonder that maybe there was more to Irvine Kinneas than what met the eye.

Edea smiled a little. “In a meeting across the hall. I think I feel a little more important if I sit here while he’s gone.” She gestured to one of the two plush armchairs facing her. “Do you want to sit?”

“Well, nothing’s wrong. I was wondering… do you remember, back when we lived at the orphanage, who you had first?”

Edea leaned back a little, taking in the question. It was an odd time to bring up the past, especially between her children and herself, and yet he seemed so intent on knowing the answer. After a moment’s pause of thought, she sat forward again and braced her elbows on the desk. “Well…” she began slowly, “I know that Selphie and Zell came roughly at the same time. Squall and Ellone were close too… but Quistis was in some odd space in the middle. She was alone.”

Edea squinted a little. “She came to me, actually. Social services from Esthar sent her down. They said the orphanages were in bad shape—still are. I had all the room in the world, and so I took her in.”

A silent moment passed as her visitor contemplated the facts just given to him. He thanked her quickly, but politely and was rising to leave when her gentle voice stopped him.

‘The inevitable question,’ he thought momentarily, wishing he had planned a good answer for it ahead of time. He counted silently to three before turning around with a smile. “All of us were talking the other day about our roots—just making jokes like, ‘I bet my dad was the President of Esthar’ or something.”

“Of course, that’s not a joke if you’re Squall,” he concluded, realizing his statement. His surrogate mother shook her head with a small smile.

“Meteor shower,” Rinoa repeated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you guys not watch the news?”

“I’ll be too busy writing my paper anyway—there’s always another one,” Zell said, stuffing his face with hot dogs as usual. On his tray he had left only one for Quistis, who sat beside him. She hadn’t even touched the food yet, much less acknowledged its presence before her. When her blond friend turned to her with pleading eyes, she waved a hand silently and watched as the martial artist devoured yet another bun.

“There’s nothing great about a meteor shower. It’s just like watching an Ultima,” Selphie said, snorting. Irvine lifted his Fruit Works toward her.

“You know you’re supposed to make a wish on those things,” Rinoa leaned back in her chair, “Although they’ve never come true for me.”

Irvine leaned to his right toward a certain blonde ex-instructor. As he came closer, he couldn’t help smell her perfume, fruity in nature and not strong at all. He breathed it in one more time before speaking. “What would you wish for?”

The blonde shrugged delicately. “I don’t have a lot to say,” she concluded bluntly. ‘Nice one, Quistis,’ she couldn’t help but kick herself mentally. It was true; most of the time she would let the others talk away about everything and anything. She rarely said anything unless something was asked of her directly. Not that she didn’t listen or wasn’t interested in their conversations—she just wasn’t much of a group conversationalist.

“You have a lot to say when you’re talking to people one-on-one. Like now,” Irvine motioned vaguely between them. “And like the restaurant.”

Quistis defended herself. “I’m not a social butterfly. I hang on to the people that are really important to me; not every person that walks my way. Most of them will just walk right back out.”

Irvine nodded, agreeing. “True, true,” he mused. His offense returned within a moment’s breath. “Still, you’ll talk up a storm with me alone, and then when we get here,” he spread his hands out in the air, possibly meaning the cafeteria or Garden as a whole, “you just shut up again.”

“Can’t change who I am,” she returned, almost sadly. They locked eyes for a moment, contemplating the small conversation between them, entirely separate from the one at the table. Quistis blinked first, feeling as though he were staring straight in to her soul with those brown eyes of his. Looking closer, she noticed for the first time that they had little gold flecks in them, pointing out in a perfect circle from the iris.

“… I wouldn’t,” Irvine voiced finally with a small smile. Without any will of his own, he lifted his hand and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t shy away and give him a good black eye like the Quistis he knew… or thought he had known. She came across as a cold, sophisticated, and untouchable blonde who fit better in a fashion magazine than a battlefield. A part of him still saw that in her—it was her image, after all.

And yet he saw a very reserved, almost coy woman in her, one who avoided dance floors not because her male standards were higher than that of any average girl of 18, but because she couldn’t dance. She didn’t participate in group cracks and jokes not because she thought them uninteresting, but because she couldn’t think of them herself.

Selphie cupped her chin in one hand, her elbow resting on the table. Her gaze wandered to her best friend as she watched him leave his touch on Quistis’s face a bit longer than necessary. The same feeling in her arose again—the feeling she had gotten when she had come back into the restaurant lobby and found the two of them dancing. In some odd sense, it resembled the feeling in her stomach after the rather scandalous basketball game between herself and Irvine.

She shook her head a little. What was wrong with her? This was Irvine and Quistis—the moon would explode first before they ever thought about being together. And why did she care in the first place?

Rinoa lowered her drink from her lips, eyes looking briefly over the scene before her. Discreetly, she looked away again before Selphie’s eyes could catch her gaze.

He looked up towards the ceiling and through the crystalline roof above the cafeteria. “The meteor shower… what would you wish for?”

Her hands folded in her lap when she leaned back in her seat, her head tilting charmingly to the side. “My freedom…”

Irvine blinked, eyes focusing on her serious expression. He doubted she was referring to any kind of freedom from Garden, or perhaps she was. It was hard to say given her tone of voice. She seemed almost… wistful.

“Hey, Irvine, do you want to go?” Selphie came in, with no intent to interrupt. Her green eyes were innocent, eyebrows raised, head cocked.

“Going where?” Rinoa mused, her form relaxed, arms crossed casually over her middle as she looked at the two best friends.

“Next class meets in the Vid-Lib and we’re all for front row seats,” Selphie answered, standing in synchronization with Irvine. She waved and smiled before turning away and leaving the table, Irvine at her side.

Looking thoughtfully between the blinded windows and her room, Quistis placed her hands on her hips. A moment later, she walked over and drew aside the sheer lacing, sliding the glass window open. She was met with a cool breath of late autumn air—the kind of gust that smelled of flower fields and the tossing ocean. From her window, she could make out the city lights of Balamb. Suburban as the town really was, it was well lit for a small settlement.

She rested her arms on the sill, inhaling the sweet air. Her gaze lifted to the sky as she remembered Rinoa’s promise of a meteor shower that night. Looking now, she could only see the stationary glimmers of bluish light that were the stars. The ocean could be heard in the distance. It was one of the few times in her life Quistis had felt a significant sense of peace.

She considered going out onto her balcony—one of the few dorms in Garden that possessed such a feature. She hadn’t asked for the extra space or the extra bit of terrace, but she wasn’t complaining when she moved out of her old dorm the week following Ultimecia’s defeat. After all, she didn’t fear heights.

Giving into her impulse, Quistis opened the door beside her window and stepped out into the night. Her hand ran over the smooth stone railing, thoughts spinning off into the cool air.

He was answered with the loudest vocal sound he had ever heard from Quistis, what with her reserved nature. She screamed in genuine surprise, her arms coming up on reflex for protection.

“IRVINE!” she punched him on the arm of his black, leather jacket, sending him halfway across the small space of her balcony. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!” she could have bellowed the words but shock and yes, relief, had short-winded her, and an angry rasp had been all she could manage.

Completely unexpected, he watched as she stormed toward him, grabbing the collar of his jacket and pushing him up against the wall. “Hello is for people who come through the door, not out of nowhere,” she grit out, letting him go afterward.

Eventually, she settled back down and stood back from him, eyes curious. “What are you doing here? How are you here in the first place?”

Irvine pointed to the small balcony above hers, close to ten feet higher and off to the right just a bit. “That’s the upstairs student lounge. I was watching some TV when I looked out the window and saw you here. Couldn’t help myself.” He smiled.

Irvine nodded. He waited a few moments before speaking again, almost softly. “I think I remember seeing one. You know, when I was little.”

Quistis listened, suddenly realizing for the first time that perhaps someone other than Zell had stayed with a family after the orphanage was destroyed. She herself never had the opportunity, and was put into Garden the day after she walked out of the little stone house by the ocean… forever.

The Galbadian gunslinger beside her shrugged a little. “Not as much as Zell does with his mom, but I get emails from my sister every now and then.”

“My foster parents are probably too busy making business deals and robbing people of their money in every major Galbadian city.” Irvine smiled a little. “They’re company buyers, both of them. And the only reason why they adopted me was so they could look charitable in the public eye. They were nice enough, but they weren’t Matron.”

Quistis recoiled a little, surprised at his life story before Garden. It seemed so chock full of everything she had ever wanted in life before entering the elite mercenary school.

“My sister, though, we got along fine,” he finished a little on the soft side, his gaze fixated on the grass far below them.

The blonde beside him folded her hands together, words escaping her. He seemed reluctant to talk about it, and yet it was almost as if the story was coming out for the first time in a long time, maybe even the first time ever. “… How long did you live with them?” She considered it a safe question.

Silence reigned between them as they stared out into the open air before them. There was a strange presence that night, a hanging ambience of something special… almost enchanted. She could just barely feel Irvine’s arm against hers as they leaned together on the low wall of the balcony. Just that tiny breath of touch, of his warmth seemed to seep through her skin. A bothersome tingle crawled up her spine as she tried her best to deny the feeling that kept surfacing in her when she was around him lately.

He looked at her now, his brown eyes catching the attention of her blue orbs. “What’d you mean earlier? At lunch.”

“About you wishing for your freedom?” he clarified, and she was certain she saw him take the smallest step towards her.

Quistis dropped her gaze. “Oh, that,” she answered quietly, thinking back on the events. Even in some part of her, she wasn’t sure what she had meant by her words. Instinct had practically begged her to say it, and when she did, it felt like the right answer, even if she didn’t fully understand it herself. But how would she explain it to Irvine? Did she want to tell him in the first place? Clearing her throat, she looked back up at him. “Just… release from life, sometimes. You know?”

She shook her head with a smile, as though she were dealing with a small child who asked too many questions. “No, not death. It’s more like a sense of… separation.” When she saw the look on his face, she laughed softly. “Never mind—I’m too weird for you.”

“Too mysterious,” he corrected, matching her faint voice with his own almost wistful one. He quieted suddenly, looking at her in the subtle light of the moon. She had always been beautiful but she seemed ethereal in the night, her blonde hair shining, and her bewitching prettiness reflecting the natural look of some mystic nymph.

‘He took another step,’ Quistis noted in the back of her mind. He was noticeably closer, his much taller form standing over her in a perfect arrangement to—

A magnificent flash of light caused both of them to look up in perfect unison, their heads tilting back at the sky. Across the heavens streamed countless beams of light, never ending, at least for those moments. Too surprised to speak, they stared dumbly at the wondrous event, eyes wide and amazed.

Irvine was first to look away and back to her again, a look of revelation on his features. Quistis looked at him curiously.

He cleared his throat and saluted her again, “Ahem, granting you your wish of freedom,” he said, and was through her balcony door and out her dorm door before she could stop him

Quistis stood rooted to her spot, her eyes following him unbelievingly. The guy sure had his exits and entrances, didn’t he? Then, rubbing her arms a little, she looked up just as the last lights of the meteor shower faded away into the darkness of the night sky. The stars returned, blinking in their own glory, though following a meteor shower proved a tough position.

Selphie twirled the phone cord in her hand as she cradled the receiver to her ear with the other. She was already well buried under the covers and the lamp beside her bed had been out for nearly an hour. Still, she talked into the night.

“Well,” she said softly, even though she had a dorm to herself. The mood of a late night phone call demanded a softer voice any way one looked at it. “I think wishing on flying rocks of space vomit isn’t exactly the most interesting of hobbies.”

“Irvine, since when do I care about being ‘in’ with anything?” She shifted under her blanket. “Did you see it?”

The brunette knitted her brows, wondering why he was being so vague all of the sudden. She hid her curiosity under her usually cheerful voice. “Did you make a wish?”

“I mean, aren’t you supposed to get this feeling that goes all up your body, like you can’t even think about anything else but being with that person?”

“What makes you think I’m talking about me?” he sounded defensive. She could almost see him grinning in his room, most likely sitting on his bed tossing darts at the far wall.

“Irvine, you wouldn’t mention it to me if it was about someone else.” She rolled her eyes. “Now who is she?”

She heard the sharp object make contact with the wall on the other end of the phone line. Irvine sighed. “It’s her.”

“Her?” Selphie echoed, remembering the last conversation they’d had about her. She was Irvine’s dream woman, someone funny and beautiful who ignored his flirty nature… whatever.

“And alas, she still only exists in my mind,” Irvine finished, throwing the last dart at the target board and hitting the two. “I think I think about her too much, I think.”

“I think so too.” Selphie closed her eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply. Melatonin worked faster on Friday nights for some odd, unknown reason. “So how do you really know if it’ll be her?”