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One Night Ch. 01-02

123

* O N E * N I G H T *

Part 1: How It All Began

December 10th 2006

* ~ * ~ *

{Author's note: The first part of this story 1000F0000% true with only names changed. With the beginning of chapter two, we enter my fantasy of what life would be like if "Jake" loved me back. I began writing this story over 4 years ago; I met him 6 years ago; told him how I felt 5 years ago... I am still as in love with him now as I was back then. We're good friends and care a lot for each other. I hope this story makes you happy, imagining true love coming to life. Also, if there are any typos or bizarre words, it's because I used find/replace to "change" our names, so something might be out of place. Everything, for the most part, should be in order, though. Please enjoy and comment.}

To be with him.

That was my deepest desire, my most secret hope and my most impossible dream.

His name was Jake and he was one year, one month and one day older than me. He had dark brown hair that he liked to keep a little shaggy and cute, nerdy glasses; his eyes—huge and a shining, chestnut brown—were the most beautiful I had ever seen; he wore band and cartoon themed t-shirts and baggy jeans; he was just a shade shorter than myself, but what little he lacked in height he more than made up for in personality. He was smart, funny and, when he wanted to be, unbelievably kind. Part of what attracted me to him was the fact that he was just a little bit fruity. He had the vibe of a gay or bi boy; he giggled instead of laughed, had feminine gestures and grew his nails so they were longer than most girls, but kept them neat-looking and pretty. My weak spot, it turns out is semi-homosexual guys... Who'd have thought?

I met him at the video and anime store he worked at. I started going there in June of 2005. At the time, I was not what most guys considered attractive: 5'3", 187 lbs, and not exactly beautiful.

But Jake didn't seem to mind the fact that there were far prettier girls out there than me. He made me laugh; he said nice things about my drawings and started showing me his art. We both liked anime, so we drew each other pictures of our favorite characters. He made me feel like I was so much more than I had always thought I was.

Around guys, I had always been so shy: I got very nervous around them, I had trouble making conversation and I was completely unable to make eye contact. But somehow, Jake was different. He made me feel comfortable and I was a different person around him.

In August of 2005, I got tired of hoping for him and dreaming about him, so I decided to do something about the fact that I didn't think I was pretty enough for a guy as good-looking as Jake. I started eating less, snacking only on yogurt and fruit, and doing sit-ups, push-ups and yoga stretches. I practically starved myself and my mother, a sugar and caffeine addict, kept trying to cram candy and ice cream down my throat, so I was lucky I survived.

But despite it all, I managed to lose about 43 pounds, reaching my current weight of 145. I went from a size 17 jeans to a 7—five whole sizes. Even my rings and shoes were too big for me.

People, men especially, started looking at me differently. I took better care of my face, hair and nails, bought nicer clothes, even a new swim suit and a miniskirt, and realized that I was beautiful. Perhaps even beautiful enough for Jake...

So, after an entire year of smiling, laughing, sharing artwork, free sodas from the store machine and letting me pick my prize in the store's "$1 Dice Roll," I finally decided to tell Jake how I felt about him. With the urging of my sister and cousin (ages 13 and 10 at the time, respectively), I cornered Jake on the first of July.

To my horror, he told me he didn't like me, or any of the many other girls who apparently were in love with him. He liked being alone and miserable—he deserved to be alone. He wasn't worth my time, he was cold and selfish, he didn't want to be a burden on other people, he was a bad soul—a bad person...

Oh how devastated I was. But I picked myself up. I refused to be sad about it, mostly because I felt too bad for Jake hating himself to feel sorry for myself.

But when I went back to see him later, he was cold to me. This hurt me because he himself had requested that we remain friends. Why was he being so mean? He said it was all cool.

But eventually, he warmed back up to me after my fuck-up. He smiled at me again... like he did back when out friendship was new. He laughed and joked with me. He even told me he liked my new shade of hair color—deep red, like the X-Men character he adored, Phoenix.

I never stopped feeling that way for him, even though we were—and could only ever be—good friends. When I looked at him, listened to his voice, was close to him, I felt like I was at home. He just made me feel... well, to use an old cliché... right.

In mid December, he started telling me about his new apartment, located right behind the mall that he worked at. Jokingly, I looked at my sister, who was with me, and said, "Sweet. Now all we need is someone who can find us some drugs and we can have one helluva party!"

I don't know why, or how, but somehow, Jake took my joke a little too seriously. His face took on the puppy-dog look he often gave without him, I suppose, even realizing it.

"Well, we're having a New Year's party there... Ya'll are welcome to come if you like," he muttered, looking as if he thought we would turn him down.

I paused, taking a moment to realize what he meant. Then, wide-eyed, I said, "Did—did we just get invited to... a... a party?"

"Well, only if you wanna. It's nothing. You don't have to go..."

I left that day feeling like I had accidentally stumbled upon the secret of happiness. I had gotten invited to Jake's house! I would get to be near him in a social setting, drink from his fridge, talk to him without having to worry about getting home...

The only problem lay in how I could get to his house on New Year's Eve. I had no driver's license and my family lived a good hour's drive from the mall and Jake's place. What would my mother say?

I realized that I didn't care.

I decided I would bum a ride from my friend, Lily. She had a car and was willing to pick me up at my house and drive me all the way into town to drop me off. She even said she could pick me up whenever I needed her; she usually didn't go to bed until around three in the morning, anyway...

* O N E * N I G H T *

Part 2: A Very Happy New Year

December 10th, 11th & 12th 2006

* ~ * ~ *

Author's note: at this point, the story switches from complete fact to complete fiction.

(December)

At a quarter to eleven on Sunday night, I stood before Jake's door, my heart beating so rapidly in my chest that I thought it might explode and kill me. I was dressed in my cutest, tightest jeans and a soft black t-shirt bearing the glittering words "I WISH I WAS A ROCK STAR" across the chest.

I knocked, terrified of what may happen.

After a seemingly eternal wait, the door opened and I saw his beautiful face peek out at me.

"Hi," I said, feeling the heat on my cheeks.

"Sam," he sighed, smiling as he opened the door to let me in. "Come inside..."

I stepped inside the small but neat space and turned to look back at him as he locked the door. A long-haired calico kitty mewed at me from a wide opening to the right that was probably the kitchen. All pretenses abandoned, I threw my arms around Jake's neck and hugged him like we were best friends.

"What was that for?" he asked, feigning shock.

"I just felt like it..."

He smiled and led me into the living room where I expected other people to be seated, chatting and drinking soda or beer.

"Where is everybody?" I asked, looking around the space.

"Sam," said Jake, stepping around so he was facing me, "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before, but..."

"But?" I prompted, feeling a twinge of unease, but also a thrill of unprecedented hope.

"Sit down, please, Sam," he asked, gesturing to the tan garage-sale sofa. I did as he asked and he sat beside me, saying, "I'm not really having a party. I was just desperately hoping for a way to be alone with you for a while. I've been wanting to talk to you for so long, but I was afraid..."

"Jake, you could have called me anytime," I deadpanned, still not forgetting the time he asked me for my phone number but never called me.

"I know and I hate myself for fucking with you all those times. When you told me you liked me nearly six months ago, I thought the world had ended..."

"Make sense, please," I begged, staring at him in confusion.

"Sam, I have always liked you. Always," he sighed, defeated. "But I could never tell you because I know you're too good for me. I adore you, think you're the most awesome girl I have ever met, but I didn't want to tell you I cared about you because I thought if I did, we'd end up dating and I would break your heart 'cause I'm such a screw-up. But I've been thinking... and talking to some people who mean a lot to me, and I've realized that if you like me as much as I know I like you, then maybe, it's worth the chance that we can be happy together..."

As I listened to what he said, I couldn't believe it. My heart started beating against my ribs like a caged animal trying to escape and my breath slipped from my lungs. I cared about you...

"Jake," I whimpered, overwhelmed, "I—I love you, I've been in love with you for so long and you actually... you're interested?"

Shaking his head in frustration, Jake said, "I'm not sure if what I feel is love, Sam, but it is so much more powerful than anything I have ever felt in my entire life... I asked you here tonight in the pathetic hope that I could ask you to be my girlfriend. I'm frightened by how I feel for you and how good it feels when I talk to you, when I'm near you. You look at me and I feel right. You talk to me and I feel like I'm worthy. You smile at me and everything else just goes away. You know all those times you thought I was being cold 'cause I sort of ignored you?"

"Yeah..."

"Those were days when either I had woken up from a spectacular dream of you and was pissed at myself for it or was feeling depressed over something stupid. Don't ever think for a second that I ever stopped caring about you. I'd rather die than hurt you. Believe me, that's the main reason I never said anything before now..."

"Was there something in particular that convinced you to change your mind?" I asked, holding back tears of joy. "Or you just finally let the overwhelming evidence that I was crazy about you sink in?"

"A couple weeks ago," he said, grinning, "you offered to share the money you got on your birthday with me. Do you realize how much that small gesture would mean to a poor boy like me?"

"Honey, my family was always poor. Sharing was sometimes the only way to survive," I said, shrugging.

"But Sam, no one had ever offered to share anything with me. Looking back, all you ever did was share with me. You offered me food, drinks, cards, drawings... You offered me your love and I was too foolish to take it..."

"Jake," I whispered, reaching across his lap to take his hands in mine, "all I have ever wanted is you. I love you—even if you don't want me to... I want you to love me like this. I want you to look at me and feel this overwhelming desire, this deep, aching affection that I feel for you every waking moment. Do you know how many nights I have dreamed about you? More than I can count, honey..."

Jake stared down at my hands as they clutched his. I looked up at him and saw the sadness in his eyes as he stared.

"Why do you look so sad, hon? We can be so happy..."

"Sam, I have wasted my life doing things that mean nothing to me. The job I have, I get treated like crap... All the girls I have ever been with, they never really cared about me, or I them, admittedly. But for some reason, the fact that the last two decades have been wasted means almost nothing now, simply because you are here with me... Does that make any fucking sense?"

Leaning down to lay my head on his shoulder, I smiled and said, "It makes perfect sense. I adore you, Jake. I just wanna be here with you tonight. It means the world that, of all the women who adore you, you fell in love with me. I want to give you everything I have ever had to give, if only you would let me love you the way I need to."

"God," he whispered, closing his eyes as he rested his head on mine, "it feels so good to feel you here, laying on me like this..."

"Jake, can I kiss you?"

"What?"

"I know that it's sudden, but you know me, I've lived such a sheltered life and, well... I've never been kissed before."

Jake sat up and looked around the room, his eyes settling on the clock where it read 11:04 P.M. He slowly smiled and said, "So I guess you've never kissed at midnight on New Year's either?"

Feeling my heart rate pick back up, I shook my head and said, "Nope. I always hated New Year's 'cause it seemed like one more year had been shaved off my life. I'm always one year closer to death but no closer to happiness. Besides the fact that I wanted to be with you, I came here tonight so that I wouldn't have to sit out in the cold, alone, being all emo and wallowing in my own misery. I would love to kiss you at midnight, honey..."

Jake smiled, looking down at me beside him, and said, "Can I just lay here on the couch and hold you 'til then? I didn't actually think this would work out, so I have no idea what to do now."

I grinned and sat up, brushing his unkempt bangs back from his beautiful eyes and said, "I think that would be the perfect way to kill the hour. I've always wanted to feel you holding me..."

We stared at each other for a long, beautiful moment, but my stomach growled, breaking the peaceful silence.

"Sorry," I muttered, embarrassed.

"Don't be. I'm starving. I forgot about dinner, actually... Can I fix you something?"

"Let's see," I said, following him to the kitchen. "I can make us some sandwiches, if you have makings."

"Hmm, well, I did buy some bread the other day, so that might work. I'm sorry I don't have mayonnaise," he said, bending over and looking in the refrigerator. "You know I hate it..."

At that moment, my eyes drifted down the backside of his jeans and I blushed, never being the kind to stare at people's butts before. But somehow, I couldn't help but look at Jake that way. I felt a heavy rush of something I had forgotten about deep in my belly and I suddenly wondered where the night might lead.

Turning around, Jake caught my odd stare and grinned, saying, "I have some turkey here... Wait... were you just staring at my ass?"

Still blushing, I nodded, feeling very stupid.

"S'okay... Can I look at yours in return?" he asked, playfully poking me in the arm.

I sighed in relief. Jake always had such an amazing sense of humor, so he never let anything bother him. Giggling, I turned around, briefly giving him a view of what my very tight jeans covered.

"Sweet," he said, giving my rear a playful smack.

"You're evil," I said, grinning as I took the sandwich makings from him.

"But you love me anyway," he said, smiling at me across the counter like I was the light of his life.

"You like mustard?" I asked, pretending to ignore him.

"Mustard, please, but no pickles. I see your hand keeps reaching for them..."

"Me likes the pickles," I said, popping one into my mouth.

I glanced up as I did this and saw a look in Jake's eye. I grinned and very slowly put another slice between my lips, taking a long moment to lick the juice off my fingertips. A flush slowly crept into his face, but other than that, he made no attempts at a response.

After our supper of cold sandwiches and Dr. Pepper, Jake sat down on the sofa, motioning for me to sit on his lap. Giggling, I did so and he put his arms around me, falling back and holding me there on his belly.

Very comfortable, we laid there for so long, listening to the local alt-rock station and talking. I sighed as I felt his strong, warm arms around me, holding me so close. He very briefly brushed his lips across the top of my head and I knew I would never love another human being the way I loved him.

"Oh, this is my favorite song," I moaned as Green Day's "When I Come Around" played over the speakers.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. This is the song Lane, Maria and I play all the time together. It's so beautiful. You have no idea what it's like... That thrill of standing there, guitar in hand, and actually playing your favorite song with other people! It's beyond description."

"I'll bet... What other songs do you like?" Jake asked, showing genuine curiosity.

"Stevie's cut of 'Little Wing' and a helluva lot of other Green Day tunes. Also, my friend Pauline has a lot of great songs. I adore Fall Out Boy and Barenaked Ladies, Brad Paisley and The Killers, Pearl Jam and Death Cab For Cutie, Blink-182 and Ozzy, Weezer and My Chemical Romance, Blue October and Kevin Fowler, Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins, System Of A Down and Sublime..." I said, ticking each one off on my fingers. "Music is my life, Jake. Until I met you, it was all that kept me alive."

"Wow, Sam... just wow."

"What music keeps you going?" I asked, holding his hands where they rested on my tummy.

"I like Green Day, SOD, Blink and FOB, too, but I also like The Used and Riverboat Gamblers, and I love Hellogoodbye" he said, resting his chin on my head. "Not sure if I have a favorite anything, though."

"Oh, I adore Riverboat Gamblers," I said, giggling. Getting an idea, I said, "Jake. Do me a favor and figure out what your favorite song is, okay? Or at least one you really love. I wanna know so I can play it for you someday..."

"God, you're amazing," he whispered, brushing his lips across my ear, sending a chill down my spine. Feeling me shudder, he added, "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. No one has ever had this effect on me, honey. You're the first of a lot of things..."

I felt him smile against my neck as he said, "Can I be the first of other things?"

Knowing exactly what he meant, a tiny whimper escaped my lips before I had the chance to stifle it.

"Is that a yes?" Jake playfully asked, nuzzling me.

"Eventually," I managed to say before I lost my voice.

I closed my eyes and, realizing that it was getting late, quickly looked up at the clock on the radio. It read 11:51

"It's almost midnight," I whispered, turning to look up at Jake.

"Oh, you're right," he said, following my gaze back to the display.

"You wanna go stand out on the balcony? I like to be outside, breathing the fresh air at the beginning of the New Year," I said, sitting up.

Smiling, Jake stood up and, taking my hand, said, "I'd love to."

I followed him outside, holding his hand. We stood leaning on the rail of the second story balcony as fireworks popped on the distant horizon out in the country, as they were outlawed in the city.

"You're lucky your porch faces west," I said, gesturing to the black outline of hills. "You have a very distant glimpse of the Hill Country."

"Compared to this ugly part of the city, yeah. I am lucky," he replied, moving to stand behind me.

I sighed as he very gently put his arms around me.

"Jake," I said, running my hands along his smooth, bare arms, "how will we know it's midnight?"

I felt Jake's right hand leave me as he reached for something in one of his pockets.

"I set my cell phone to that anatomical clock you can call," he replied, holding up the little flip phone. "I set everything to it."

"Erm, anatomical?" I said, giggling.

"Well, whatever," he muttered.

"I think you mean the atomic clock..."

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