Bi The Way

Derek had been practicing his apology to Marcy the entire weekend, now armed with her favorite chocolate, a small succulent for her desk, and a goose plush from their tour of the University of Waterloo, he felt ready. The sun was dipping below the horizon, turning the white siding of Marcy's house a bright orange as he approached. Taking a breath he knocked on the door, hoping it would be Marcy who answered.

The creeked open slightly and a sliver of Marcy's face appeared. "Marcy?" Derek said, his excitement lasting only a few seconds before reading the expression on her face. "I know, I screwed up but please I love you and I want to make things better. Can we talk about it?"

She looked like she was about to burst into tears, her upper lip trembling. "Derek... I can't I'm sorry, really I so sorry."

"What do you mean you're sorry?" He suddenly felt very uneasy, something was very wrong but he had no idea what it was. "I am the one who should be sorry, not you."

"I—" She faltered, tears beginning to stream down her eyes. "I did something terrible, I was so hurt when you didn't show up but What I did was worse. I am a terrible person, I am so sorry."

"Marcy, what are talking about—" Derek's stomach felt like it had tied itself in a knot so tight he was going to throw up.

"I kissed someone else," she cut him off. "At the cast party after. I so so mad and hurt and he was so nice and it just happened." Her voice cracked. "I kissed him."

For a moment the world around Derek fell silent as he processed what he had just heard Marcy say, Marcy the first girl he had ever said I love to, and meant it, the girl who always thought everything through, that Marcy had kissed someone else. Derek stared at her, only able to produce the sentence. "You kissed someone else."

"I did, I wish I could take it back" Marcy relented, trying to fight back her tears. "I feel terrible about it, Derek. You didn't deserve that it."

"This is my fault, I hurt you so badly that you kissed someone else" His words trying to make sense of it, trying to keep the image of Marcy pristine in his mind. "I should go... I need to go."

"Wait Derek I need to know if we can work through this?" Her hand reached out, but he stepped back, avoiding her touch.

"Please, Derek..."

"I need to go." He repeated, wanting to be anywhere else. Turning away, Derek walked away from the home, his gifts slipping from his fingers as he went, his body shaking uncontrollably as he went.

Derek treched through the snow until he reached his front door, the warm smell of freshly baked cookies and the soft murmur of television welcomed him but he hardly noticed. His parents looked up from the couch, smiles fading as they took in his somber expression.

"Hey, champ," his dad called, trying to check in on him. "Is everything ok?"

"Everything is fine," Derek said devoid of emotion, all he wanted to do was go to bed and sleep.

"I take it things didn't go well with Marcy" Derek's mom asked, seeing her son's tear-streaked face. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Marcy and I are done, nothing else to talk about," Derek muttered, not meeting their gazes. He walked passed them and down the hall to his room, he could hear their whispers through the wall as they planned their next move.

Derek threw himself on his bed. "FUUUUUUUU..." he screamed into his pillow, his heart breaking as he did.

there was a soft knock at the door, "Honey, Your father and I are here for you if you need anything" Derek's mom said softly, her own heartbreaking seeing her son so devastated by the breakup.

"Thank you..." Derek whispered, still wiping away tears. "I just need a minute."

"Take all the time you need," His mom said with her usual warmth. "Lola and your father are going out to grab a few things, anything you want just name it."

"I'll think about it," Derek said, feeling a little better knowing his family was doing their best to cheer up. "I wouldn't mind some tacos." he sniffed.

"We will make them for dinner, extra spicy and with the cool ranch sauce, just the way you like them." His mom said as she entered the room and sat on the foot of the bed. "Is there anything else" she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Can you make it hurt less?" Derek asked, looking up at her. His mother couldn't answer that, she knew only time could do that instead she embraced her son letting him know it would get better.

---

Ally sat cross-legged on the window seat in her room, still trying to figure out who sent her the tea. She thought about how amazing she felt knowing someone cared enough to send her the drink while she was trapped in the bedroom sick. Thought for sure it had been Alex, after all, he was her boyfriend and he worked at Muggs, but after their breakup, she knew it wasn't him.

"Who would care enough to actually send me a gift just because I was sick?" she murmured aloud, it wasn't actually the normal thing to do. Whoever did it knew her order down to the exact number of pumps of vanilla she liked, something only a person who really pays attention would know. And then it hit her, Rodney. He always paid so much attention to all the little details and was the only friend who would make a gesture like this even after their falling out.

She had to know for sure, could he really be reaching after all those months of silence? She reached for her phone and scrolled down until she found her last message thread with Rodney. Tapping on it she racked her brain trying to think of a message that would imply he sent the latte without full-on saying it just in case she was wrong.

After a few minutes of trying she gave up, nothing sounded right and she was worried she could be wrong about the whole thing just like she was with Alex. So she came up with a new plan. She would pretend to accidently call him to strike up the conversation. She hit the call button and after a few rings Rodney's face appeared on her screen.

"Hey, Rodney," Ally said trying to act casual, relieved that he actually answered the call.

"Uh, hey Ally," Rodney stammered, wearing a look of genuine confusion.

"I know it's been a while..." Ally started, tucking a strand of her wavy blonde hair behind her ear. She wasn't exactly sure where to go from there so she just went for it. "Did you send me the chai tea latte? It's just that I got one while I was sick and it was a very Rodney thing to do."

Rodney's breath hitched, he looked like a dear caught in headlights. "Um yeah I did, you were sick and I thought..."

"Rodney," Ally cut in, her voice firm yet vulnerable. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said. Will you... will you forgive me? Can we be friends again?"

The request hung in the air, heavy and expectant. She couldn't read Rodney's face through the screen. He was clearly thinking it over, which surprised Ally.

"Can I... think about it?" he finally said, Ally couldn't believe her years.

"Of course," she replied, but she didn't want him to think it over, she wanted him back in her life. "But I'm going to win you over, Rodney. I'll make it up to you."

Rodney gave her an appreciative nod, still clearly unsure. "We'll catch up after the break," he said softly, with a smile.

"Goodnight, Ally," Rodney said as his image faded from her screen, leaving Ally alone with her thoughts once again.

"Goodnight, Rodney," she whispered to the empty room, wondering why she felt the need to prove herself to Rodney, something she had never felt before.

As students returned to SDCI after winter break, the halls filled with chatter as friends caught up after two weeks apart. Rodney sat at one of the cafeteria tables waiting for the morning bell to ring, he ran his hands through his curly brown hair as he studied his math textbook. He turned the pages absentmindedly, thinking about when actually Ally was going to show up and if he was really ready to be friends again.

"Look," Derek said taking a seat across from him and setting his breakfast burrito on the table, "If you aren't ready to make up with Ally, you don't have to. Do it if and when you are ready."

Rodney sighed, closing the textbook. "Yeah, I know. But she is still Ally and a part of me doesn't want to let her go. It's so..." His voice trailed off as he watched Derek's gaze drift to Marcy, who was hunched over a textbook two tables away. Rodney realized that Derek could be feeling the same way.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, right?" Derek asked though Rodney wasn't sure if he was talking about Marcy or Ally.

"Maybe," Rodney conceded, not sure how to answer the loaded question. His hand tapped away on the table edge; he felt more lost than ever.

Before Derek could reply, the moment Rodney had been dreading finally happened. Ally approached with a bounce in her step, her hands behind her back. Her wavy locks shimmered under the fluorescent lights, and her smile was unwavering as she revealed a large stuffed bear, its fur deep chocolate that matched Rodney's eyes.

"The first of many I'm sorry gifts," she chirped, pushing the plush toy into Rodney's arms, which he accepted on reflex. The bear seemed almost comical against his lanky frame. "I'll see you after school with another little surprise,"

"Looking forward to it," Rodney managed, still a little in shock. He watched her retreat, before finally registering the bear in his arms.

"Well you have to give her one thing, at least she is trying," Derek said, once Ally was out of earshot. "That's something right?" He moves the bear's foot out of his burrito.

"Yeah, you're right," Rodney said, but he wasn't sure this was the apology he wanted or even if he wanted an apology at all. Rodney pulled the bear off the table and sat it in the chair next to him. That is when he spotted Jordan making their way through the caf with an arm full of papers, they paused at the far wall and began to tape one of the posters to the wall, the bold letters asking for votes in the student council election.

A distraction from talking about Ally, "Look Jordan is running for student council" Rodney pointed out, drawing Derek's attention to the poster. "I wonder how you even get into that?"

"Pretty sure anyone can run if they get a teacher's vouching for them or something like that," Derek observed, following Rodney's gaze. "Though usually, the grade elevens sweep the elections, you know so they can lead the student council in grade twelve."

"Oh, so Jordan might not get on student council?" Rodney asked, feeling a little bad for Jordan.

"Hey, they'll get our votes right?" Derek replied. "And honestly they could stand out as the only grade ten running, it makes them different you know?"

Rodney nodded, wondering if Jordan could actually win. He watched Jordan hang another poster—deciding then that helping Jordan run for student council president could be as fun as the charity they had started last year. As the bell rang, signaling the start of class, Rodney stood, the bear under one arm, hoping to catch up with Jordan after class.

The day was relatively ordinary and soon the familiar sound of the end-of-day bell rang. Rodney, unsure of Ally's next surprise, navigated his way to his locker, keeping an eye out for Ally as he went. There she was, right next to his locker, her smile as bright as the afternoon sun.

"Rodney!" she called, waving at him through the hoard of students.

"Hey, Ally," he said as he opened his locker, the stuffed animal from earlier wedged inside.

"About this morning," Rodney started, not wanting a repeat of the event, "You don't need to give me all these gifts, we can just hang out or something."

Ally couldn't contain her joy at the sound of those words, and before he could brace himself, she planted a kiss on his cheek. She pulled back with a giant smile on her face, But Rodney felt weary. this was never their normal dynamic and he didn't understand the kiss.

"Actually my surprise wasn't a gift though," she explained. "There's this special art night coming up at Studio Z. They are going to teach us how to paint like Picasso and I thought we could go together."

Rodney was concerned, to him it sounded like a date. "Ok, that does sound fun," he admitted, convincing himself that he was overthinking things again.

"Great, It's Friday night." She squeezed his hand, "I'll pick you up at six."

"Awesome," Rodney said, feeling a little excited for the opportunity to reconnect.

---

The following day, French class had its usual lecture on verb conjugation. As each verb was dictated on the board, students had their own conversations going. Rodney tried to focus on Madame Dupont's lecture, but he couldn't help but overhear Hunter Adams discussing the student council elections with his friends.

"Did you all see those posters that weird Jordan kid was hanging? Does the guy really think anyone would vote for him?" Hunter scoffed at his clique. "If that is the competition maybe I should run. It would be an easy win and look great on my college applications."

Rodney felt his grip tighten on his pencil, Hunter was the worst. He had the perfect hazel eyes with flecks of gold in them and thick blond hair, he was captain of the football team, head of the science club, and lead the debate team. All of this wouldn't have mattered to Rodney but it was his smug know-it-all attitude that just rubbed him the wrong way.

"Will you just shut up?" Rodney finally said without thinking, drawing surprised looks from nearby classmates.

Hunter raised an eyebrow, sizing him up. "Are you talking to me?"

"Uh yeah. You were being a jerk, Jordan is just as likely as anyone else to win." Rodney couldn't stop himself, he could feel the gaze of his peers locked on him.

"Really now?" Hunter smirked, amused by Rodney's challenge. "Wanna bet on it?"

Rodney hesitated, he could see the competitive gleam in Hunter's hazel eyes. But if he backed down now, he would be practically announcing to the world that he thought Jordan couldn't win. "Yeah, I bet Jordan will win the election."

"Alright," Hunter said, staring down Rodney as if committing his face to memory. "Let's make it a bet." He reached out his hand to shake on it. Rodney hesitated before shaking it, he could feel Hunter squeezing his hand hard before releasing his grip.

Rodney turned back to his notes, his pen scratching out more than just French phrases. He was creating a battle plan to help Jordan win the election, not just for the sake of the bet, but to prove an underdog could win.