Thursday, October 13, 2016

something from the archives: headlong - part 9

i''m remembering this story a bit more as i've posted it and as much as i was always a liz and michael fan, i had conflicting feelings about how to end this one. in fact i'm pretty sure that i wrote two endings for it. i can only find one preserved on the internets, but i will probably just rewrite part 10 again to account for both endings. anyway, catch up with parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8 at the links. part 9 follows the jump.





Part 9

“Things are weird now, right?” asked Kyle as he faced Liz. They were lying naked in his bed, the sheets tangled around their legs.

“A little bit.” Liz replied. She had fantasized so long about this moment that the reality was different. Not bad, but certainly not what she expected. The passion that had exploded between them surprised her with its intensity.

Kyle groaned. “I’m an evil human being.”

“Actually, I think I’m the evil one.” After all she had only just slept with Michael, their other roommate. Kyle's best friend. She was worse than Isabel.

Kyle shook his head and shifted his body so he was facing the ceiling. Liz curled up against his shoulder as he spoke, “You can’t be evil Liz, you're perfect. I broke the code. I mean I don’t know what’s going on between you and Michael, but I never should have kissed you.”

“You didn’t kiss me. I kissed you. And I'm far from perfect. Besides, what Michael and I had wasn’t real. He never loved me—“

Kyle’s short bark of laughter interrupted Liz.

“Never loved you? Liz, you’ve got to be kidding me. Michael’s been in love with you for years. Since he first met you. Dating you was his dream come true.”

“Kyle, he told me himself he was in love with Isabel. In fact—“

“No way. Isabel isn’t his type.”

“Listen to me. The only reason we ever dated was because we were jealous of Isabel and you—”

“That makes no sense Liz. Why would you both be jealous?”

“Don’t be mad. You see Michael approached me with a plan. He knows that I’ve loved you for years and that watching you with Isabel and all the others was killing me—“

“Liz, I—“

“Let me finish. That morning a few weeks back that you saved me from choking on a Cheerio, Michael proposed that we pretended to date. You see he was in love with Isabel. And he knew I was in love with you, and he thought maybe we could make you jealous and realize that I was meant for you.”

“It was all a plan? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. See the thing is—I guess it got a bit serious and we made love. Only Michael freaked out on me the next morning when I told him I couldn’t keep going on with the plan." Liz sighed, "I was so confused. He’s been my friend forever. And forever I’ve loved you.”

Kyle sat up and put his arm aroung her. “So what happened then?” He said encouragingly.

“Nothing. We haven’t spoken since.”

“So you love me?”

Liz nodded, “Yeah. I always have.”

“What about Michael?”

“What about him?”

“Do you love him?”

Liz looked up into Kyle’s eyes as she struggled to answer his question honestly. She thought about every moment she’d ever spent with Michael. She remembered the night they made love. Closing her eyes with a sigh, she whispered, “Yes. But I’m so confused. He loves Isabel.”

“No, he doesn’t. Liz, it’s always been you. He’s always loved you. That’s why—“

“That’s why what?”

It was Kyle’s turn to mumble, “That’s why I never approached you. I realized long ago that you were the perfect woman. Being with you like this, has only further confirmed that fact. But I knew Michael loved you, and he loved you first, and I never realized I had a snowball’s chance in hell with you.”

“So he lied to me about Isabel?”

“Yeah. I’m positive.”

“Kyle this is a mess.”

Liz sat up and swung her legs off the bed. Her back turned to Kyle she closed her eyes in abject misery.

“I know. It’s why I’m evil.”

“No. God no, this isn’t your fault. I love you.”

“But you love him too.” Kyle stated quietly.

Liz didn’t answer as she thought about the sudden curve life had thrown her. Somehow she had successfully gotten tangled up in it.

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