February eased most of the tension a between me and Victor, I found he no longer avoided me, and he even laughed like he always did around me. He even went back to his teasing; making fun of people as they spoke to me just to see me crack under his funny faces. My humanities class had me joining the Student Activity Club – we were doing an Arts in the Park event and I was roped into joining the coordination. The boys thought it was a ridiculous idea, they started planning their Spring Break in Daytona Beach; MTV would be there, and their plan was to make it on the cameras as they danced with girls. Each time they saw me it seemed I was either chatting with the Drama Club president or reading a tome for my literature class.

Chicago loomed in the distance, the months ticking by, and I refused to discuss it before the guys. I was mostly afraid of seeing Victor's face at the mention of Chicago. It had become this pink elephant in the room around us. He never mentioned it. I never mentioned it. But it kept inching closer.

When the boys left for Spring Break, I let out a sigh of relief. I had two books to read while they were gone, and I had to start my application for the Chicago dorms. Plus, the paperwork for all the scholarship and student loans I would be paying until I was 50.

When Spring Break was over the Arts in the Park event was two weeks away and I had little time to listen to their exploits. I was, however, surprised when Clem approached me while I plastered flyers on all the school's bulletin boards. My chair wobbled and he held it still, aiding me down.

"Thank you," I said neutrally. He hadn't really spoken to me since the party.

"Becka, I wanted to say I was sorry for the party," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I was a bit drunk."

I nodded. "It's fine. You didn't do anything I didn't want at the time."

"OK," he said.

I sighed, he seemed completely unsure of what to do of how to behave. "Listen, we should just bury the hatchet. We liked each other in High School, it didn't pan out, it's OK. In ten years' time we should be able to say hello to one another without any awkwardness if we run into each other at Walgreens or something."

He laughed a little and nodded. "Yeah. That would be nice."

I smiled and turned to leave.

"Are you doing this whole Arts in the Park thing?"

I looked at him, he was reading the flyer. "Not all of it. You should come. We're having henna and the drama club is bringing all sorts of fun props."

He nodded, still looking at the flyer. "Alright. I'll see you then."

I walked away from him in a strange mood. As if that tension was truly done. I had never been meant to be with Clem nor he with me and I found myself truly wishing him happiness. He had fucked up his future and it was no laughing matter. Plus, I didn't really know him. I had no idea who he was but whoever he became I wished him happiness.

Victor was not able to arrive at the Arts in the Park event on time because he had a midterm to complete. I had worn a lovely Spring dress which I thought was appropriate for a morning under the large oak trees where we had set up. The band set to play from early in the morning and they did a rendition of modern songs with a vintage feel. My work was done when all the tables were labeled, and each group knew where they were sitting. I had added my name to the list for henna on my hands, I was on the second page and would not be able to get the henna until well into the afternoon.

I spotted the boys including by the drama table, Clem was with them, but Victor was not. Keith, the drama club president, was sitting watching them with a distasteful look on his pale face. Jon and Steven were laughing up a storm at the different props, placing them on their body in the most childish of manners. I rolled my eyes as I walked to them, shaking my head when Steven placed a wooden sword on his crotch area. I looked over the props and saw a set of medieval-looking handcuffs.

"Those are trick shackles," Keith said.

"How do they work?" I asked him, lifting the thick black shackles. I felt Jon next to me, his interest piqued at being chained.

"Like this," Keith stood up and clasped one of my wrists in a shackle then twisted it about, landing the other end on Jon who held out his hand. "So you have to twist about to try to get them off."

It was a mess. First, I had a skirt and the twisting and turning left Jon and I pressed against one another even more tangled than before. We were also laughing up a storm as the rest of the guys tried to give advice which all went south. We had to give up and Keith used his key to unlock us.

Suddenly I looked at Clem. "Come try with me, this has to work."

Clem looked a bit reluctant but agreed to be shackled to me. He tried even less than Jon to unlock ourselves from the twists of the chains. After a while, I gave up. I tried a third time with Steven who ended up pinching me with the chains and then he left me stranded when the boys decided to drive to Subway. I couldn't go, I was still waiting for my henna so Keith once more unshackled us and I rubbed my wrists when he freed me.

"The guy that can untangle these things with me is the guy for me!" I announced loudly and Keith shook his head.

"It's pointless. No one gets out of them, it's a trick," he said.

My name was called, they couldn't find the cable for the electric guitar and by the time I had solved that emergency, the boys were gone, and I still impatiently waiting for my turn at henna. That's when Victor exited the building and I watched him walk to the trees. He looked frustrated, the entire event was beginning to die down and he had missed it.

"Where did the guys go?"

"Subway," I said, shielding my eyes from the sun. "I'm waiting for my turn to get henna on my hands."

He made a face. "Why do you want that?"

"Because I do," I said. "I think it's beautiful."

He looked around. "What else was there to do?"

"A bunch of stuff, most of it is done," I said and walked him to the drama table. "The guys played with a bunch of stuff from this table."

Keith looked up at us. "You want to try the cuffs with this guy?"

"What cuffs?" Victor asked.

"Oh, these trick shackles, tried it with a bunch of the guys and we couldn't figure it out," I said, glancing back to the henna table. Still about five more girls in front of me.

"Yeah, let's try them," Victor said.

Before I could protest Keith was once more locking me in. I was shackled now to Victor and he looked at me like I should show him how it was done. I let out a sigh, sweat was building down my back as the day got warmer.

"Let's go under the shade," I said, and I pulled him to empty chairs as the band slowly played a rendition of The Cranberries. We sat down facing each other, shackled and bound.

"How was Spring Break?" I asked.

His head was bent forward, his large hands playing with the chains, trying to figure them out. "Fun, we went to Daytona."

"I know," I said, wincing as he tugged, and the chains pinched my skin.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"You're wasting your time, there's no way out of these," I said.

Still, he played idly with them, looking up at me as the breeze fluttered his hair.

"How's your dad?"

He nodded. "Way better. Mom seems open to actually hiring a professional to help us out."

"That's great," I said sincerely.

"Yeah, we tested a few people out while I was in Spring Break," he moved the shackles around, looking them over.

"Did you meet anyone nice in Daytona?"

He looked at me and smiled slightly mischievously. "You don't go to Daytona to meet nice girls."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure many were nice girls but what you mean is that you didn't go fishing for a relationship."

He nodded and played with the twists of the shackles making me lift my arms as he studied the knot underneath.

"Yeah, Jon actually met a pair of twins and they hung out with us for a while," he said and I looked away.

"OK."

"Cindy and Lindsey," he said. "Blondes, very hot."

"I bet." My teeth ground against one another. "Did you have fun with them?"

"We did," he smiled a little. "They were up for a good time."

"I think my turn for henna is coming up," I said and tried to stand up. He pulled me down.

"It is not, stay still I almost had it," he said. "How has Yara been after everything?"

I told him and he was quiet, listening, idly playing with the chains as I sat still, my hands inactive on my lap. Then he started talking about sports medicine and how he wished that one day he could work in a big football team like the Seattle Seahawks or the Rams. I admitted I didn't know anything about any of the teams and he shook his head at me. He tried to explain the positions and what he had played in high school while I let the moment lull me as he talked. He became animated attempting to make me understand his favorite teams and how he would be part of a team if he got a good job within the league.

It was almost as if we were no longer awkward, we were just two friends under the Spring trees and the mild breeze. Our knees touched and I felt him, occasionally, softly work on the chains even as he spoke of defense. I asked stupid questions that most people would know, and he graciously answered them. Then he would throw back his head back and laugh when I made a ridiculous comment. My belly fluttered each time he did, and I was grateful that I knew nothing of football.

Then, about an hour later, when he finished explaining why the Falcons were a superior team to the Broncos suddenly the chains fluttered opened and I realized he had done it. His slow and steady tinkling with the metal had made them come undone. I stared at our hands, now freed and then back to his face. He looked utterly delighted but all I could think was that he had done it. He had freed me. And I had said it. I had called it out before witnesses. The guy who could untangle these would be the guy for me.

My stomach and it's ever-burning ulcer spoke up with sudden fervor.

I loved him.

I loved Victor Manning.

Stupid, ridiculous, wonderful, lovely, selfless, beautiful, Victor Manning. My very best friend, the smile that made me warm, the one I missed, the one I called, the one I could not wait to see.

I loved him. I had kissed him and it had been life-changing. I had stuffed that moment in the back of my mind because it had dragged me through coal-hot pavement until I was raw skin. But I had loved him. For how long? I don't know. I didn't know when it had started. It felt as if I had always loved him. As if I had always known he was there, waiting in the wings, since the seventh grade. And now he was burrowed in me, an artery in my heart.

I could suddenly see my lifeline tangled up in his. Hurricane Andrew taking our house. Mr. White sitting me behind Victor as I stared at Victor's back. Victor noticing how I longed for Clem. Hating Victor and writing ASSHOLE on his car. Prom and Victor pretending to be an asshole to get Clem to dance with me. Feeling lonely without the girls and going on our first Burger King meal. Telling him I had sex with Case. Victor defending me when Jon called me fat. Victor beating the shit out of Alvin. Victor dancing salsa with me, twirling me. Victor training with me for the 5K. Victor in my room and talking to my mom. Kissing Victor. Victor in the movies talking to me. Victor holding my leg when I found out about Yara. Victor showing up in the rain to drive me home from Lakeland and carrying a distraught Yara all the way to my room. Victor holding my hand as we rushed into the emergency room.

I was covered by him. He was intricately part of my life and I was leaving him behind. I was leaving for a new life in Chicago and he had asked if I would miss us. Him and me. Us. I had hesitated. How could I ever hesitate? I loved him, I was in love with him, he made me happy. To wake up each day and not be with him, not speak to him was unbearable.

He had been steadily knocking at the door of my heart and I had not even noticed.

A/N: FINALLY! Ay, Becka! ;) If you've been steadily reading this story, I thank you very much! :)

Recommended Year 2000 Playlist (will grow with each chapter)

1. If You're Gone - Matchbox Twenty

2. Absolutely (Story of a Girl) - Nine Days

3. Hanging by a Moment - LifeHouse