Chapter 25

The crescent moon hung stark white against a perfect indigo sky. One by one the stars peeped through the abyss and winked. The air, so crisp and empty these many months, smelled sweet with renewed life.

Mimi took in a glorious breath of it, needing to further fortify tonight's courage. She'd cried her tears, vented her anger, and wallowed in her own self-pity. Now, she would take the reigns and determine her own destiny. Screw this whiney Mimi crap. What happened happened. Yes, what happened sucked. Nevertheless, it's gone and done with. She'd already grieved the whys and the hows. The real and most important question was: What now?

She stole a glance at her silent escort. His eyes were trained on the concrete before them with one gloved hand clasping his shouldered bookbag and the other holding his hockey stick. Only a week ago, he'd toss her that devastating devil-may-care smile or dare her with those stormy green eyes. He'd acted the flirty player jock to the hilt. Now, he didn't even seem to be breathing, much less smiling and flirting. It was as if his arms and his legs moved robotically without conscious guidance.

Jason Welles. Who the hell are you?

Mimi sighed, hoping this'll go easier with him not acting his usual cocky self. Here goes.

"Do you remember Brian?" she asked, waiting when he seemed to be startled at the breech of silence.

"What?"

"Brian. The guy I was with at the party. Brian O'Connell?"

His green eyes stared blankly at her, until they widened in memory. "Skinny drama dude." His eyes only widened further, when a light string of laughter erupted from her.

"Yeah, I guess you do remember him then," she laughed. "Well, I bumped into him today at school, and he told me that he basically passed out in his expresso that night." When those evergreen eyes registered absolute puzzlement, she explained, "He had some of that punch, too, so he doesn't remember a thing between dancing with me and the next morning. He woke up in the hospital with his mom going hysterical. I guess Krista freaked, when he just zonked out in front of her. So, she dropped him off at the ER and they called his mother. Krista," she looked at him again to explain, "She's the girl I helped set him up with at the party."

Jason only shook his head in more confusion, as Mimi's little story got more and more complicated.

"Well, I explained about the spiked punch to both of them - Brian and Krista - and they're going out this Friday. He's pretty embarrassed, but they're going to try it again, punch-free." When he still said nothing, she drudged up a smile and added, "I guess that teaches us to never drink anything at a party that we don't open ourselves."

"Yeah," he frowned, staring back at the pavement again. "Look, Mimi… I'm sorry… about what happened. I know it hurt you a lot."

"Yeah, it did." She paused, feeling her eyes burn again but fought back the tears. No blubbering tonight. She'd have her dignity, Goddamnit. "But I don't really blame you anymore. Yeah, it sucks that you were drunk out of your skull, but I wasn't exactly of sound mind either. So, it's not worth it to blame you or myself until the end of time. I just want to move on, you know?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"So," she said and took another breath for strength, "I just wanted to say that I'm not really mad at you and… thanks, for sticking up for me with Jan the other day."

He nodded again and did what passed for a shrug. "She just wanted to stir up trouble, as usual. She won't bother you with that again."

"So, what happened at that the Mardi Gras group thing?"

He shook his head at that wicked gleam in her eye.

"Ok, fine, don't tell me," she said without offense. She was a reporter after all and had her ways.

They'd reached the start of her walkway. Taking another breath, she turned to face him. She had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. Despite their differences and now their history, they shared good friends thus a lot of future time together until graduation. For everyone's sake, she extended a hand out to him.

"Friends?"

Taken by surprise, he looked at the hand then her face. This was the second time in his memory and in this passed week that a girl had so courageously and generously offered her friendship. Despite everything that had happened. Cautiously, he reached out to take it and gave a small, grateful smile.

She smiled in return. "I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow then."

"Yeah," he replied, before she slipped her hand away and walked toward her house. "Wait."

She turned and tilted her head in question.

"Skinny drama dude, he was your date, wasn't he?"

Her smile was small but sly. "No. Good night, Jason." With that, she disappeared into the house.

He didn't know how long he stood there. First, gazing at those pretty curtains and then directing his eyes upward to the starry heavens. It took him a while, before he realized that he was smiling. Hugely. He turned and trotted for home. In a blink, he was there, deposited his hockey stick in the umbrella stand, and bounded up the steps to his room. He dropped the backpack on the carpet then plopped on his bed.

He was still smiling.

Overflowing with energy, he kicked off his boots, which flew into the air and landed with cloddish thumps onto the floor. He reached under his mattress and pulled out his journal. The leather cover was lovingly worn and fingered. He unwound the strap and flipped to a new page. He took the ink pen tucked against the binding and began to write.

The next afternoon Chloe sighed at the voracious mound growing on her bed.

"Belle, this is only for the weekend. I really don't think I need…" she gestured at the dozen or more outfits piled on the bed, "…all of this."

"Well," piped her friend, rummaging through Chloe's closet like a woman possessed, "You said you don't know where he's taking you, so a girl has to be prepared for anything." She plucked out a pair of overalls and threw them onto the pile and continued her mission.

Chloe sighed. "Well, I was sort of…" She chewed her bottom lip. "I was hoping that maybe we could go to Salem Place and pick out something."

"Sure," smiled Belle, "Spring is almost here. We could get you some really cute dresses. You had Philip drooling over that blue slip dress last summer, remember?"

"Yeah, sure. That'd be nice. Actually," began Chloe, her eyes skidding from side to side, "I was thinking of getting something from Victoria's Secret."

Belle's clear blue eyes widened. "Really?" she grinned. "Chloe, are we talking cotton or are we talking silk?"

Chloe blushed. "Maybe silk."

Her friend saw her flushed but happy expression. Belle squealed, "Oh my gosh, Chloe!" She reached for Chloe's hands and bopped them excitedly. Over a year ago, Chloe Lane knew only black and baggy, which covered everything, particularly the spirit beneath. Now, those once tired, suspicious eyes glimmered with hope and happiness. "You love him, don't you? Oh, what am I saying?" She hugged her friend tight. "Of course, you do. A bat with cataracts could see how in love you guys are. I'm so happy for you."

Chloe laughed. With Belle, there was never any pretense. Just pure heart. "Thanks. I do love him," her heart soaring, after saying it aloud to someone else for the first time, "And he waited. He was so sweet and he waited, until I was ready. I know that this is right."

"Oh, Chloe!" Belle hugged her again, jumping up and down, tears running down her cheeks. She released her giggling friend and then wiped away the blissful tears. "Come on." After she grabbed their purses, her free hand latched onto Chloe's and pulled her toward the door.

"How about this mess-"

"Girl," continued a surprisingly strong Belle, undeterred, "Times a' wasting. We only have four hours, until the mall closes."

"'Only'?" Chloe laughed, as they sailed out the front door and power-walked toward Salem Place.

Two and half hours later, the girls strolled out of the lingerie shop with fragrant pink satchels in hand. A friend's gladness was Belle's gladness. So, while she helped Chloe find an ensemble sure to make Philip's mouth water, Belle treated herself to a cute pink teddy with a fun pink boa to go with it.

"Ok," chirped Belle, "You have to promise to tell me every detail, when you get back, ok?"

Chloe's eyebrows scrunched. "Every detail?"

"Uh," Belle thought better of it, "Well, not every detail. I don't need a play-by-play, just where you guys went, how great it was. That sort of thing."

Chloe smiled.

"Hello, ladies."

Chloe's smile died.

Belle turned and grinned, "Brady!"

He accepted the warm hug, while watching as Chloe set her expression to neutral. "What are you ladies up to?"

"Just a little shopping," replied Belle, guilelessly.

Chloe said nothing.

Unaffected, he cocked a brow, when he spotted the signature pink bags. "Now, wait. Who the hell are you going to wear that for, Tink?"

His sister blushed to her roots. "None of your business. And girls don't wear things just to impress boys, you know. We dress for ourselves."

"Uh huh, right," grumbled Brady doubtfully, "I think I'm going to have a little talk with Mr. Shawn Brady."

Belle smacked his arm. "You'll do no such thing. Leave Shawn out of this."

"Leave me out of what?"

Belle jumped, when Shawn, Philip, and Jason approached from behind. Shawn swung an easy arm around Belle's shoulders, even as he placed himself between Brady and his friends.

Chloe quickly walked over to hug her boyfriend in greeting and whispered in his ear, "Please."

But Philip's eyes already exchanged daggers with Brady's.

Even Jason's usual swagger braced, as the tension mounted.

"Leave me out of what?" repeated Shawn, redirecting the attention to himself.

"Oh, nothing," replied Belle nervously, aware now that time had done little to assuage the animosity between Philip and Brady. "Come on, Brady, Philip. You guys used to be such good friends. Please, make up," pleaded Belle, "It was all my fault that night for making you guys fight. I know neither of you meant it. Please…" She cried then, burrowing herself against Shawn's chest. His arms reached up to comfort her.

Philip's jaw clenched.

Brady sighed, "Come on, Tink. It wasn't your fault. Right, Philip?"

"No, it wasn't her fault," grounded out Philip. With the blood and adrenaline racing through his veins, he could barely feel Chloe squeezing his arm for peace.

"You know, Philip," began Brady with a look of remorse, "Let's let bygones be bygones. We're family after all, right?"

Damn him, seethed Philip. He'd read the secret gleam in his foe's eye perfectly. It was the same gleam, when Brady played his father against his stepmother. Then, offstage he'd laughed about the scheming bitch shrink afterward.

"So, how about it, Philip? Friends?" Brady held out his hand.

Philip looked to Shawn, whose eyes gave him a shrug, as if to say, "Come on, Phil. Why not?" He turned to Jason, who would've yawned at the entire scene, if he could. Then, he saw Belle's tear-streaked face and Chloe's sad blue eyes. He gritted his teeth, as he reached out and shook that hand.

"Oh, thank you, guys," sniffed Belle, "I wouldn't want anything to ever come between you two."

"No, never," reiterated Brady with a smile just for ole Phil. "So, where are you all headed?"

"Just thought we'd check, if the new Play Station game's out yet," supplied Jason, when no one came forth with an answer.

"How about we grab some dinner together first?" suggested Belle with a shaky smile.

"Uh, actually…" Knowing her boyfriend of nearly nine months only too well, Chloe hooked her arm around Philip's. "I have to get back. Still got some errands to do. Philip, could you walk me home?"

"Sure." He didn't protest, when she led him away, leaving their friends slightly bewildered, as they parted ways.

They left Salem Place and headed back toward the hill. They walked in silence, finally reaching the quaint residential neighborhoods. Bit by bit, Chloe felt Philip relax again. His arm slid across her shoulders, as they fell into a casual stroll. The birds had returned and swooped back into their favorite nooks and crannies for the night. The couple reached an intersection and while they waited for the right of way, Chloe spotted an old blue mailbox. She smiled at the happy memory of Philip running through the streets, carrying her over his shoulder. They'd laughed so much that night. She rested her head against that broad shoulder, sighing, when he kissed her hair.

They walked the last block to the Wesley house, stopping at the walkway. She pivoted on her toes, so she could hug him. He ran his hands up and down her back and closed his eyes. He smiled, when she hummed a familiar tune, and buried his face in her sweet scented hair. They swayed to that ballad - the first they'd ever danced to. She giggled, when he picked her up and spun her around.

She was breathless, after she gained her feet and their lips met.

"Ahem."

Philip pulled away and looked up with some apprehension at Dr. Wesley, who had just arrived home, after a long day at the hospital.

Craig smiled at his stepdaughter. "Excuse the interruption. Just needed to get to the house."

Chloe blushed and stepped aside, so Craig could pass.

He grinned, "See you inside?"

She nodded, and watched him enter the house. Once he was gone, she broke out in laughter and soon Philip joined her. She gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Philip."

"Night, beautiful." He watched her walk that gorgeous walk up the small path, the wooden steps, and then the homey porch. Finally, he noticed the pretty pink shopping bag. "Hey, Chloe. What's in the bag?"

She smiled, "You'll see," then disappeared into the house.