Date: Fri, 26 Dec 2003 22:01:48 -0600 From: Karla Schulz Subject: Carrots and Celery Part Three Chapter 13 On the night of Celery's expected arrival, I'm literally bouncing with excitement. Hours away. See him. Touch him. Hear him. Be with him. Love him so much. We managed to talk once earlier in the week, though it was frustratingly short. He told me he loved me, missed me, and couldn't wait to see me. I told him the same. That was pretty much it. But it's like I told Colin, as soon as I see him none of that's going to matter anymore. I'm putting any doubts I have about that far away into nothingness where they belong. He'll be here with me again so very, very soon. And then everything will be good again, I know it will. Jonas interrupts my bouncing and streaming consciousness with the statement, "Time to go Care." "Go?" I stare at him blankly. He shakes his head in half amused exasperation. "Yeah, like to the airport? To pick up Celery? You know how his flight comes in at nine?" I nod. "It's almost time, so we're going now – to get him. Got all that, should I have been talking slower?" I've snapped out of myself enough to smack him on the shoulder. "Asshole." He grins, totally unrepentant. "Whatever. Just get ready, everyone else is downstairs already." "Okay, just let me check my messages. I think maybe he left me some kind of countdown thing on my cell," like he did at Christmas. Only then, we were talking live, he had a lay over in Regina, and he called me, and until he got on the plane, we counted down minutes together. I glance at my watch. 8:10. A shiver of pleasure and anticipation runs down my spine. So soon. I wander over to my cell phone, and get into my voice mail. Just like I thought. One new message. I hit one, and it starts to play, "Hey Care, can't talk long. I just wanted to let you know I'm working a lot next week, so I don't think we'll be able to hook up. I know it means more of the message game, which totally sucks, but we're really busy right now. Hope you aren't mad. Um, you can to reach me this weekend if you want – hope you do – but I might be snowboarding on Saturday, so that's where I'll be I don't answer, okay? And if we don't get through this weekend, maybe you could call me like Thursday or something? I should be home around ten – eleven for you - if you don't mind waiting up. Sorry I didn't catch you, but I guess you're out somewhere. Love you." My knees give out, and I collapse onto my bed. After about 10 minutes, no doubt confused about my lack of arrival, Jonas and Kyle are sent up in the rescue party slash get the hell down here capacity. They stare at me in confusion and mounting worry as I simply continue to lie there motionless, still too stunned to cry. "Care?" Kyle's voice quivers with uncertainty. "He's not coming," I announce softly. They just stare at me in disbelief. "What?" Kyle finally sputters. I shrug, still with the numb. "He has to work... and stuff." More staring. "What the hell do you mean he's working?! He can take a week off," "I guess he couldn't," Kyle rolls his eyes. "Bro, the boy would QUIT any job that got in the way of seeing you. You must know that." "He likes this job. And he has a lot of responsibility. He probably just doesn't want to let anyone down." My protestations sound weak, especially to my own hurt and confusion. "Something's going on," Kyle says, shaking his head and standing up. "I'm calling him right now." He starts walking out towards the phone, but I snatch it out of his reach. "He's not home. He was on his way out, it's why he left the message. Anyway, I don't," I sigh. "I don't want anyone calling him and like, guilting him into something. If he can't come he can't come and that's it." Now they're staring at me in disbelief for a whole nother reason. No way either of them buys me being so calm about this. Just letting it go. I don't really believe the act myself, but I need to keep it up until I'm alone again at least. I don't particularly feel like sharing a group cry about this right now. Though that'll probably come later. "Look guys, we can talk about this more tomorrow or something. I'm really tired right now and I think I just want to go bed. Be by myself for awhile." They don't look very happy about it, but eventually Jonas and Kyle do what I asked, mumbling something about telling the others as they go. I'm grateful. Saves me from seeing my own shock and hurt reflected in others faces. I stay lying on my bed, too much stunned still to decide if I'm more mad or hurt, and too drained to attempt to figure it out. So great is my lack of energy, I don't even manage to reach over and find some depressing music to play. I spend most of Spring break (I feel completely understandably) hiding in my room listening to depressing music. Alternating that with the occasional bit of really angry music, when it suits my mood. I haven't returned Celery's message, but I mean, come on. The guy leaves a 30 second message canceling a week we were supposed to spend together, and I'm supposed to feel guilty about that? I don't think so bub. And furthermore, he hasn't called me either, so it's not like I'm alone in this. Though, alone is very much what I feel. I just don't understand how he could just, not come. "Hey Care, can't talk long. I just wanted to let you know I'm working a lot next week, so I don't think we'll be able to hook up. I know it means more of the message game, which totally sucks, but we're really busy right now. Hope you aren't mad. Um, you can to reach me this weekend if you want – hope you do – but I might be snowboarding on Saturday, so that's where I'll be I don't answer, okay? And we don't get through this weekend, maybe you call me like Thursday or something? I should be home around ten – eleven for you - if you don't mind waiting up. Sorry I didn't catch you, but I guess you're out somewhere. Love you." I mean, shit. Snowboarding? And okay work – but SNOWBOARDING? He's turning me down to go snowboarding? And this he tells me in a 30 second phone call? Talking about it is doing nothing for me. Like, everyone seems to think it's really encouraging that I've BEEN talking about, but it's not making me feel any different. Confused, mad, hurt, sad, and a lot more confused. This is me, talking about it be damned. In some ways, I'm still functioning alright though, I guess. Still working in school, still sharing the occasional laugh with Colin. Still trying to keep quality bonding time going with the twins, still spending lots of time just chillaxing with Jonas and Kyle. So in some ways, I'm almost fine. The part of me that's gotten used to doing stuff on my own, it's still just doing that. The rest of me though, the big, majority of me that's completely Celery centered, has seen better days. But like I said, if I don't deserve to feel a little sorry for myself about this, well, I don't know. And deserving or not, I'm sure not about to stop sulking about this. And I'm sure as hell not going to be the one who calls first. He started this damnit. It's not like January either. We at least talked about that. Well okay, first we fought about it, and then there was silence, but we did at least have some kind of forum. But this... he didn't even discuss it with me. If I wasn't so pissed off, I'd probably be able to take a minute, and realize how totally unlike him this is, and then I'd get to wondering if something's wrong, but the fact is, I AM so pissed off. So reason and logic can be damned too. "Mr. Vasskez!" Oh shit. Teacher glaring at me. That's what I get for doing my brooding in the middle of History class. "Uhummm... E?" Blinking and straightening up in my desk. I hear Jonas snicker behind me. The bastard. "I ask that you please do your day dreaming on your own time. For the moment, focus your attention on the lecture." Bah. "Sure," I say agreeably. Get glared at for a few more seconds, but then Mr. Carter starts droning again, and I promptly go back to brooding. Day dreaming indeed. I should be so lucky. Jonas thumps me on the back as we walk out of class. "You realize if you keep all this brooding up me and Kyle are going to start calling you Angel, or possibly just Danger Mousse." I glare at him, but I think the amused look in my eyes may have lost the glare some of its credibility. "Are you saying I don't have a right to brood?" He shrugs. "Not exactly. I do think you should call him though – you know half of what's wrong with you is simple lack of Celery exposure. You're like a little plant that's wilting due to lack of water and sunlight," I almost want to kill him for that cutesy voice he uses for the last part. Almost. "He should call me," I pout firmly. As I have so many times in the past week and a half. "He's probably wigged, I mean, you never returned his message. I bet he thinks you're really pissed." Not like we haven't had this conversation before or anything... "I AM!" Jonas sighs. "I'm sure there's more to his explanation than what the message said – if you'd only call him and talk it through. Anyway, wouldn't venting your rage at him be like, therapeutic or something?" That's a new angle. I bet him and Kyle plot about this kind of thing. Brainstorming arguments to force me into calling. Or at least taking off the calls to Celery ban and letting one of them do it. "I'll get around to it eventually," I say, very blasι. "Right now I'm still firmly in pout and brood mode. Which – I'll have you know – is a I mode I feel completely entitled to. So there." Jonas smiles faintly. "I'm with you on that, we're all mad he didn't come – you're not the only one who was looking forward to a week with Celery – but you're hurting yourself too, that's the problem. I just mean, are you ENJOYING your broody existence? Cause if you are – by all means, brood on. But if you're not, why not just call him, yell at him, have him explain and apologize, and then just get on with your life?" I sigh at Jonas. "Listen man, it doesn't work like that for us. We have to work our way up to a confrontation with many weeks or possibly even months of obsessing about things. Keeping in mind most of our problems have been about stupid misunderstandings. We know this, and yet, every time another one comes up, we still end up doing this ridiculous little dance around each other. Face it dude, we're slow. Like, REALLY slow. Let's not forget how long it took us to get around to talking about the fact that we were in love with each other in the first place. We're just too used to taking a really long time to get around to stuff. There's no hope for us on the resolving things quickly front. That may be what you and Kyle are able to do, but Celery and I just don't operate like that." He snorts. "So this is a like, it's broke – but because we've been doing it so long it's pretty much a tradition, and changing it might upset the precious balance, we aren't going to fix it – thing?" I grin. "Yeah. I guess so." He shakes his head. "I want it stated for the record that I think you're both totally insane." I pat his shoulder reassuringly. "That was entered long ago." "Just so long as it's written down somewhere." It's evening and I'm lying with my eyes half closed on the couch, sort of watching TV with the twins. They're actually quite hilarious. They're a real team you know. And they've got that youthful exuberance thing going for them. Plus they're like just recently credible teenagers right, being 15, so they think they're pretty hot stuff. You can tell. That's also very hilarious. The hilarious I said before I meant as actual hilarious. In the smart mouth remarks and quick wit sense. We're supposed to be bonding, all watching TV together is bonding I guess. But mostly, I've been watching them. I sort of gave up on the TV a little while ago, watching them more closely, and something's started to happen to me. Cause, they're so young seeming you know? So full of life, as cheesy as that sounds. And of course, like everything, in the least surprising twist ever, they're starting to remind me of me and Celery. Right now, they're on the floor, kind of shoving each other every once and awhile, tossing friendly insults back and forth, making fun of what's on TV and each other. And in this moment of watching them, all I want is to be able to turn to Celery and have him smile at me. Cause I know if he was here he'd know exactly what I'm thinking, and he'd just grin and make some comment about the good old days or something else intentionally corny and we'd both laugh. But he's not here for me to turn to, so the moment is passing, and all I can do now is cry. The hurt especially bad because he's not here, but he should be. Was supposed to be. My sniffling gets the attention of the twins pretty quick, and they both like rush me. It's two sided attack, Jon on my right and Dave on my left, each hugging me, not really knowing what's going on, but doing the only thing they can probably think of, hoping they'll luck into making it better. Turns out it works out great. I love my brothers. I love them for who they are, right now, for the great little people they are. Not just for what they remind me of. And it's so incredibly far past time I started to appreciate that. On Friday night, I go over to Colin's. He drags me up to his room excitedly. "What's up dude?" I say, laughter in my voice, finding, as I usually do, that being around Colin is excellent medicine for my recent and somewhat perpetual bad mood. "I have the most awesome news you'll ever hear!" "Yeah, what's that Cauliflower?" His face darkens instantly. "You have no idea how much I've been hoping that wasn't ever going to occur to you." I smile smugly. "That's pretty much why it's so fun. But I mean, I'm kind of ashamed of myself really, it took me way too long." "Carrots, I promise you, the only shameful thing would be for you to actually use that name." "There's no chance of that not happening." I assure him. He sighs. "Fabulous." He looks so dejected, I have to laugh. "Oh cheer up. You were practically bouncing off the walls a minute ago, what's the big?" "I'm not telling you." He pouts shamelessly. "Don't be like that... listen, if you tell me, I promise I won't occasionally shorten the nick to flower," He looks positively horrified, "You wouldn't." "Please." "If you're not nice to me I'm not taking you along." He warns. "Taking me along where?" Like my question has reminded him, he gets all excited and delighted looking again. He jumps up and down a little bit. I kid you not. He's that excited. This is damn funny. "That was girly," I can't help but chuckle out. He glares at me. "Don't make me tap my proceeding statement." I roll my eyes, "Colin, what?" He holds a hand out, and does the `breathe in, breathe out' thing. When sufficiently calmed, he drops the bomb, "I got us ticked to see Avril Lavigne!" "What?! I thought they were sold out?!" "I won them!" "That IS totally awesome!" I exclaim. "You're the man." He grins proudly. "I know." "How'd you win them?" "Radio," He shrugs. "But listen, I've been thinking about it. We have to make T-shirts." "T-shirts?" "Of course! They'll both have `rock on rock on. Peace out. Avril' on the back, and then on the front, mine can say `two words: tour bus' and yours has to say `I'm with the skater boi'." I laugh. "That's great Colin." He nods. "And we'll be wearing ties obviously." "Oh well yeah, I mean, that goes without saying." Suddenly I get a silly grin on my face, reality settling in. "Damn! We're going to an Avril Lavigne concert!" His grin is every bit as silly as mine. "I know! It's going to be the most hilarious night of our lives. And they're really good seats, so most likely we'll be surrounded by REAL fans, who are going to get really pissed off at us probably." "What with all our mocking, loud awful singing along and pretending to cry on each other's shoulders while we sob `this is the best night of my life!' over and over?" He beams at me and for a minute I think I'm about to get hugged. "Exactly." Pure happiness in his voice. The happy because, well, having someone who gets you is like, one of the best things in the world. And I've always been lucky enough to have that with Celery, and it still makes me want to beam at him whenever he does it, but for Colin, this is all pretty new sometimes. I give him a hug. He rolls his eyes at me, but I'm sure he knows full well he's not fooling me. "We're going to have a shamefully good time." He smiles. "I know." Colin decides to walk home with me, and we take a long windy way back, talking and laughing and generally disturbing the peace. When we finally make it back to my place, Colin and I burst through the door, arms thrown across each other shoulders, singing I'm with You at the top of our lungs. We're right in the middle, uproariously exclaiming, "It's a DAMN cold night!" when we walk into the living room and my eyes land on something that instantly robs me of my ability to speak or move. Though I can barely believe it, there he sits. Arms crossed and eyes grey. Blonde hair all tufty and mussed, as beautiful as I've ever seen him, despite the developing scowl. "Hey baby."