Date: Thu, 26 Jun 2003 09:20:02 -0500 From: Karla Schulz Subject: Carrots and Celery part two chapter 21 Well gang, this is the last of it for awhile. Part three shall begin once I return from the old country (otherwise known as Germany) in early August. So enjoy the chapter and try not to miss me too much! --- In the morning, on the day after the one they call Boxing, I wake up to being kissed on my neck. Then fierce and passionate kisses for my lips. Lying down, my legs still turn to jelly. I'm practically biting my lip to keep from moaning when suddenly it all stops. "How 'bout you?" What? Wait. No. Kissing my neck, weak knees... "Oh, you bastard!" Celery grins all very self satisfied and smug. "Really, I'm interested. I want to know," he's having way too much fun. I pout and glare combined. "How could you do this to me?" He grins all the more smugly. "You know what they say about revenge." "It's best served cold?" He tisks. "It's sweet! Now, roll over and answer my question," I sigh. "You're actually going to make me ANSWER too? I thought you were just trying to make a point," his eyes are sort of sparkling in the evil and mischievous way. "I am making a point, several points in fact. But the main idea is that you're supposed to tell me about school." "It's fine, wonderful," I steal his answer. "Now, now, did you let me get away with that?" More sighing on my part. "But it really IS fine," he turns over onto his side, hovering over me. I'm on my back, still enjoying some pouting action. "Liar," staring up into his eyes, I find myself unable to tell him anything but the whiny insecure truth. "Okay, it's mostly fine but... you know, it's like suddenly all everyone talks about is graduation and what they're going to DO after graduation and apparently we're all supposed to have a plan, but - I have no plan! The future's all so uncertain. I don't know what I'm going to be doing in 10 years, where I'm going to be living. I don't even know what I want to take in University or if I should go at all! Maybe I should take some time off or look at Colleges or go back-packing through Europe! There's just so many strange and scary options. And everyday I get asked by at least one person what I'm going to do with my life, the only answer I ever have is the trying to be joking 'I have NO idea'. That's not good enough!" I told you I was going to let myself get out of hand. Never say I didn't warn you. Celery seems upset. I sort of closed my eyes there about half-way through. What part of what I said would upset him like this? "Cel?" "Your future's totally uncertain?" he asks, with a like quiver in his voice. OH! I take his face in my hands. "Sweet one, no! I didn't mean it like that! Of course there's you - you're my future," I try to do the brave reassuring smile thing. "You're the one certainty that's keeping me mildly sane through all this. I don't know what I'm going to be doing, or where, but I do know I'm going to be doing it with you - whatever it is I decide. What WE decide," he smiles. Another crisis averted. "Sorry for the self-doubt episode," I pull his face down for a light kiss. "No apology required or desired. I love you, Celery, you're my whole life. You're everything to me. When I look into my past, there's you. Here and now, you're all I want and need. When I look into the future you're all I can see, standing out clearly against the rest of the insanity. Never doubt that I'll be with you," he kisses me again. "Not much chance of that with you making speeches like that," in another rare burst of totally uncharacteristic seriousness I take his hand and press my lips to his tattoo. "We said it, we branded ourselves based upon it, and I meant it. I promised you me forever, and that's the least you're going to get," he puts one hand on my face, looking down at me with a kind of raw intensity that blows me away. "When did you grow up, Carrots?" His voice, his look, and his words together bring tears to my eyes. He cradles my head in his hands and I cry into his chest. I only half understand why. Everything and nothing right? After the million years it takes me to calm down have passed, I finally open my eyes again, remove my face from Celery's shoulder, and look at him. He smiles sort of `hey there where'd you go' ish. I take some of those great gulping breaths you've been hearing so much about. And you know what? They're not very fun. You might think they would be, but no. "So that was weird," I say shakily, with a like exhale laugh thing. Celery's all about stroking my face and twirling my hair. He's still giving me time. "I love you, Cel." "Baby, I know you do," he assures me, smiling tenderly. I sort of cross my eyes and bite my lip. "I didn't really realize what was happening," I say, half to him, half only to myself. I search my memories for awhile before looking over to him again. "I'm sorry." His hand slips down my neck and he squeezes my shoulder. "What on earth could you think you have to be sorry for?" I like whimper sigh. "The like, changing," understanding causes head tiltage and rueful smiling. "I didn't mean it in a bad way, baby," he informs, leaning over to plant a kiss firmly on my forehead. "Yes, okay, I'm sorry I like missed it or whatever, but the changes are good. And you're still my Carrots - even if you do suddenly have the ability to be serious for more than 30 seconds at a time," I actually grin for a second. "A trait you seem to have lost," he chuckles, sliding me closer. "See, baby? You're not such a different guy." "Good thing too," I say, sighing with contentment this time. "After all, really, you don't want to see too much tampering with perfection," Celery grins at me, the way he does when he knows he's managed to bring me back again from one of my crazy places. It's always that same grin. Happy, triumphant, maybe even a touch boastful. I mind none of those things. "Who loves ya, baby?" I laugh. It's a thing. "You?" He kisses me. "Yeah." The next day just goes by, in this happy blur. And the next. Before I know what happened to the days, it's New Years. 2003. Last night we all stayed up just for the kissing at midnight excuse. We partied (pfft - partied, hardly) in Kyle's place 'cause according to Jonas that's like a hipper scene. They're all with the okay now by the way. Jonas hasn't called Erica ('cause he's too chicken to do it while she's still in the city and could possibly talk him into a in person visit) but he keeps maintaining that he will. Though I can't exactly imagine Kyle pressuring him about it, so who knows when that will go down. Anyway, for the moment, it's all good with them. From the highly gross kiss they engaged in last night, I'm thinking extremely good. We all talked about resolutions, but agreed unanimously that no one ever keeps those anyway, and thus, they' re quite lame. Frankly, they'd be lame either way. Instead we made more pacts. The couples (first one for Jonas and Kyle) and then another one as a group. Simple stuff. Keeping up the good work stuff. Never losing touch with each other stuff. I needed that one, 'cause sometimes that really scares me. The idea that somehow Jonas and Kyle will end up one place, me and Celery in another, and we'll never see each other. Maybe Kyle was right and I was wrong and I always loved them more than I thought, but I know now, even if I didn't before, that I couldn't bear to lose them. They're my brothers and they're a part of me just like Celery is. He feels the same. They feel the same. So the pact. I take my pacts very seriously you'll notice. We go to Two Towers again in the afternoon on New Year's day since none of us really got it the first time. "That was way cool," Jonas gives his review as we're speed walking back to the car (it's fucking freezing! That's why!) "Yep, amazingly cool in fact." I concur, teeth almost chattering. We all sort of dive into the Le Baron, and Kyle starts it up. "I could have done with a little fewer battle scenes - though they were pretty incredible," Celery adds his thoughts. "I could have done with a little more Legolas. Damn, he's hot." "Hey!" Celery protests. "Sitting right here, sitting right exactly here," I smile. "Did I say he was hotter than you?" "Before you guys start making out again, let's get back to the movie. I like, can't believe how much I loved it. I keep trying to remember my favourite part, and I'll think of something, but then a second later I'll think of another thing I loved just as much." "Totally. It's just a like, epic. I think I liked it better than the first." "Yeah me too, it was way more exciting," I agree with Jonas. "Still, I feel like a slacker for not reading the books," he admits. Celery and I shrug. "We haven't read them either." "Peasants," Kyle says, all snotty and affected. "Oh like you're so great, Kyle," I scoff. "You only read them 'cause you had to for school." "So what, I still read them," he challenges on with Kyle like superiority, going unfazed. "Yeah, yeah. Good for you." "They're ignoring us again," Celery does the old stage whisper to Jonas, who nods back all very confidentially. "I know," Kyle and I roll our eyes at each other. "Another brother bonding moment ruined by attention starved boyfriends," I lament. "It's a cruel, cruel world," Kyle commiserates. "Nobody feels sorry for you," Jonas and Celery inform us at the same time. More mutual brotherly eye rolling. "Just take us home, Kyle," I sigh. He smiles at me. "Love to, brother." A couple more days do the going by thing. There's a new routine type thing setting in. Mornings we spend alone, lounging, talking, etcetera in bed. We eat food at some point, which inevitably results with us meeting up with Jonas and Kyle who are doing the same. This whole shared nourishment time usually mushrooms into some kind of afternoon activity, most commonly dreamed up by Jonas. We'll eat dinner all together as a family sharing all the days fun and excitement in a very Leave it to Beaver sickeningly happy way. In the evening we might hang out in the living room with the whole crew, in Kyle' s pad with just him and Jonas, or we'll secret away to my room and just chill together until we decide we want to go to bed for real. It's near the end of like the eighth day of Christmas vacation and everything up to this point has basically followed the routine. Celery and I are snuggled together in bed, recovering from a tiring but extremely satisfying evening session of etcetera. By the time I start dozing, I wake myself back up enough to get ready for bed all the way and head for my bathroom to brush my teeth and stuff. When I come back out of the bathroom I find Celery like curled on up his side, this sort of blank spaced look on his face. I quickly make the space between us go away. "What's wrong, sweet one?" I ask, rubbing up and down his back like that's the solution to the problem. "The day - it's gone. It's just gone, so fast. All the days," he shakes his head, still looking all distant and weird. "They're going so fast," he looks at me like I'll have the answer. "Time does fly," I say lamely, smiling the same way. Celery remains mournful and confused. "Yeah but I didn't want it to," I lie down behind him, putting my arms around his neck and shoulders. "I know, me neither, but the whole not having control over time and space thing is still kind of an issue," I think he smiles at that, but I can't really see that well, so it's just a guess. You know. One of those hopeful ones. "It's been getting--" "I know," I stop him hastily. 'Cause maybe if we don't talk about it, it'll just go away. "Care," so much for that dream. "Well, I do," I pout. He rolls over, facing me now. "What do you know?" Very nice. Make me the one who has to say it. I sigh. "That things are becoming way too... like, comfortable. It's getting to be that we don't even freak out when we're not within a foot of each other anymore 'cause we're getting used to having each other again," I want to stop, to just start to cry or something so he'll comfort me and I won't have to say anymore, but I continue, "And that's sort of bad, because time's slipping by and it's all going to be so horrible when you have to leave again because I'm starting to let myself believe you AREN'T leaving. That this is real. That having you here can be an all the time thing again," Celery closes his eyes, just breathing for awhile, trying to achieve some level of inner calm or whatever. Enough to be able to open them and look at me anyway. "Yep, that's the one," he agrees with sighing bitterness some time later. "Is it really so bad?" I allow myself to ask. "I mean, so what if we're getting comfortable, right? I LIKE feeling used to having you around again, I like it," he nods. "I know, baby. Me too, I just wonder... is it going to be the first months all over again if we let ourselves go too far with this? I can't go through that again - I definitely can't let YOU go through that again," I like wrinkle my brow with fretful understanding. "I feel the same way, it's just... I can't pull away, and I can' t let you pull away. I can't NOT feel like this. I don't want to feel anyway other than this. I WANT to not freak out every second I'm away from you because it's enough to know that you're near me. I can't give that peace up now that I'm so used to tasting again," he smiles ultra sadly. "So we ignore what we know is coming? We do the blissful ignorance, river in Egypt thing?" I shrug. "I can't do anything else." "Okay then," he says, taking my shoulders and easing me down into his arms as he does. "Wanna stay up all night frozen in the fear of missing even one second with each other?" I only half teasingly suggest. "Yeah," he replies, the exact same mix. We don't get to sleep until the early hours of the next day. Waking up around 10 the next morning, we share a long hug and wordlessly rise. Once on our feet, Celery briefly kisses my forehead, smiling down at me. I test drive a half smile back. "Hungry?" I shake my head. "No." "Okay." Always when we don't want food we go to Kyle's, so we drag ourselves still pyjama clad over there, knocking on his thankfully locked door. Jonas answers the door after a minute or two. I'm under Celery's arm, sort of curled into him, my face half covered, but I see Jonas smile uncertainly, exhibiting some concern. He opens the door and steps back so we can enter, still with the knitted brow. "You guys are looking rather post-apocalyptic this morning," he observes as we crawl onto the couch. I immediately bury myself into Celery, too exhausted and upset to answer Jonas's questions. "Yeah," Kyle emerges from his bedroom to add his agreement to Jonas. He looks us over with folded arms. "What's the deal? We're the ones who had to deal with awkward, potentially permanently scarring, scenes with each other's long time girlfriends in the span of one week." Doing the mocking himself so we'll feel better thing. "What's got you two so upset?" "It's just the normal stuff," Celery says with a sigh. "You know. The fact that I'm going to have to leave soon and everything," "Man, I was hoping we weren't going to start being depressed about that until like two or three days before," Kyle admits, suddenly sounding very dejected and slumping into his only arm chair. "Same here, and like, there's a whole week still," Jonas adds, getting himself comfortable on Kyle's lap. "We know," Celery says, sighing all the more. "But last night it sort of hit home that we're like half done already and just that it's been maybe like too good, you know?" I look up as Jonas speaks, "I get it. You're worried about the fall, right?" We nod. Kyle seems to understand as well. "Don't do that to yourselves, little bros," he says with conviction. "I mean, that's the kind of thinking that's gonna ruin the time that's left, nobody wants that." "We know that," I assure Kyle. "And we were planning to go back into the land of denial, it just sorta hasn't kicked in yet, I guess," "Let us know when it does, eh?" I smile. "Definitely" Then hanging out with Kyle and Jonas goes on for about another hour, and partial cheering does occur, but by the time we decide it's time for that food we didn't want earlier, we're both still semi in suck every minute dry, panic after everyone has passed mode. Cel catches my hand as I'm standing up after finishing my breakfast, smiling still in the half sad way. "Wanna go for a walk?" I tilt my head thoughtfully. "Do I get to go with you?" The half smile eye roll. "Well duh," I grin. "Then I absolutely want to go for a walk," he nods. "Okay good." We get all bundled ('cause hey - freezing!) and then stand together in the front hall. "So like, you know it's really cold out there, right?" I ask him. "Um yeah," he says, in the exact same `well duh' tone he used before to say that very thing. "Okay, okay, no need to get all huffy. I was just checking." As he's leading me out the door with a hand on my shoulder Celery looks down at me amused, "Huffy?" "Quiet." We walk for awhile, each with a hand jammed into pockets, the free ones bare and joined. "So are we just wandering aimlessly or does this little jaunt have a specific destination?" I ask after I figure I've had enough with the silence already, nice as it was. "Mostly wandering aimlessly," he tells me. "I thought we'd just walk around, you know, make fun of the occasional set of really cheesy Christmas decorations, sing the first line of Christmas carols 'cause that's all we can remember... that kind of thing," I smile. I sort of do that a lot around Celery. Have you noticed? "You call that a plan?" He puts on a defensive look, already knowing exactly where I'm going with this. "Well, alright, so maybe it's not a plan exactly..." "Admit it – you have no plan." "Okay fine, maybe I don't have a plan - Lord knows I don't have lapel bottoms," we just grin at each other. Finally Celery sighs happily and takes back my hand, starting us walking again, "I'm telling you, the words I don't have for how much I love you, I mean, man, there are a lot of them," I squeeze his hand. "You and me both, sweet one" Just when I'm starting to think that I'm pretty freezing and that you know, maybe possibly going back inside might be a sound move, Celery starts walking with a new determination. Walking in a direction NOT of my house, keep in mind. When I start to figure out where we're going, I look at him suspiciously. "No specific destination, eh?" He does the guilty grin thing. "Yeah, that was a lie." "I sorta got that." "Sorry," I shrug. "For what? I don't care. I mean, I don't know really why you didn' t just tell me, but if you wanted it to be like a surprise or whatever, that's cool." "It was just, I wasn't totally sure I wanted to, so..." I nod. "Okay," I nod in the area of specific destination's general direction. "So are we going in?" "Yeah," he decides. Yes, I hear you. You don't have to shout. In where? Well, our old elementary school playground if you must know. We step through the gate, a world of falling into the rabbit hole, our breath getting weird just 'cause of like, the weird. I haven' t been here in like 6 years. We hung out here the summer after grade six, still using the basketball courts and all (sometimes to play basketball and other times to skate on), but that was it. Very `so weird to be back here'. "So what is this?" The shrug, the lopsided grin. "Memory lane." "I see." He starts leading us around, pulling me by the hand. We take a long loopy tour. "This is where my life began," he says finally, taking a long deep breath and exhaling slowly. I smile at him, eye lockage and hand squeezage. "Mine too," he shivers, but not one of those from actually being cold shivers. "You don't know how many times I've thanked whatever powers that be you sat down at my table," emotion locks up his voice for a long moment before passing. "That started everything for me - it's what made me alive." We've turned so that we're face to face now, left and right hands holding, his right resting on the curve of the my neck, my left on his waist. "You and me both, buddy," I say almost gruffly, 'cause trying for expressing my actual current emotion never would've gone over without me crying. His hand gently guides me close, and I'm locked into one of his perfect hugs. "I love you so much, you've done so much for me. I can't ever repay you for that, there's nothing I'll ever be able to do that'll--" "Don't," I interrupt almost sharply. "Don't do that to this moment. Just hold me, okay? Focus on my love for you, not your worries about not measuring up," he nods into my hair, and we stay there for awhile, keeping each other warm. "I wanna show you something," he says suddenly, breaking away and reclaiming my hand. I follow willingly. "You wanted to show me the stairs?" I ask drolly, once we've stopped walking and Celery's got this `here we are' look on his face. "No," he says grumpily before bending down and busily brushing away snow from the corner of the second limestone step. "What're you doing?" I ask, leaning over him, trying to peek. He ignores me to continue the all consuming brushing process. "There," he says with a mix of pride and nervousness, standing up and taking one step away. I look where he just finished the job. Letters etched in stone. I like can't even talk over here. "How did this get here?" sort of falls out of my mouth on its own accord. He shrugs, shyness taking over his features. "I told you I've loved you since forever," he reminds me. "Yeah I guess you did," I acknowledge vaguely, fingering the letters, still a bit lost in the surreal beauty of this moment. "I put it here the day I figured it out - that the word for what I was feeling was love, I mean." "Weren't you afraid someone would see?" He shrugs. "Not like many people would get what it meant. Anyway, I didn't even realize I was doing it until I was half done and by then I figured it'd be a lie not to finish the job." "What'd you mean you didn't realize what you were doing?" I'm still partially detached, hazy, but genuinely curious at the same time. "Well, I came here to think right, this freaked out little kid, 8 years old. I was just fiddling around with my pocket knife, more than half gone, and I started scratching away as my mind was going a mile a minute, repeating over and over this new truth, but I didn' t even notice I was writing it down at the same time." I've finally pulled myself totally out of dreamland, and I kiss him hard. "This level of amazingness shouldn't even be allowed," I inform him. He grins. "I freaked out about a million times, thinking you were going find it, but you never did," I huff a little, feeling some honour defending is in order. "Well, who looks at the far corner of a stair anyway?" "Not many people, I guess," I lean up and kiss him again. "He loved you too, you know? The 6 year old me, the 8 year old me - he loved you SO much - he just didn't know it yet," he smiles, holding me close. "I know." We just hug until we're both like immune to the cold, until it's getting dark and even more freezing. "You still got that pocket knife?" I ask, raising an eyebrow, finally noticing the darkness, lateness and coldness. He shrugs. "Sure, why?" I just hold out my hand and he gets it out of his pocket. I remember it now. The knife I mean. It was my dad who gave it to him, which I'm guessing is why he still carries it around with him. I crouch down, and when I'm finished, right under "Celery loves Carrots" is written, "And Carrots loves him too". --- Edited by Ed.