Fates Colliding, Love Undying

I found myself watching fat, feathery snowflakes swirling around in the wind as Kris’s car flew down the interstate. We’d taken his for the trip since he’d just had it in the shop and it had new tires, just in case we ran into a snow storm.

And we did.

It had started off as a slow flurry, and had built up to a downright heavy snow. The visibility had gone down, and the roads were starting to get slippery and even drift in some spots, but we were hoping we could get to the other side of it soon, and just get home.

“Sammy keeps texting me asking when we’ll be back,” I groaned as I checked my phone and found she had asked me the same question for the fifth time in two hours. I didn’t even have to look at Kris to know that he was rolling his eyes. He did that a lot when Sammy was mentioned anymore.

“Did you tell ‘er that the roads are bad?” he questioned, gripping the wheel tightly when we hit a patch of ice. We had been pretty lucky as far as not sliding around too much, but it was still unnerving to drive on the interstate when it was icy.

“Multiple times,” I sighed, feeling the frustration that he was so freely expressing. “She just keeps telling me that I promised to help her set up Max’s birthday party tomorrow. She wanted to start on shit tonight.”

Sammy had been planning his birthday party for months, it was the first birthday of his that she would be there for. I guess she wanted to make it something to remember. Unfortunately, he had a game on his birthday, so we were having it the day before.

“I’m sure that’s ‘ow you wanted to spend your birthday,” he scoffed, glaring at the road as he drove. “Setting up Max’s party.”

“Not particularly,” I admitted, pulling the sleeves of my sweater over my hands and crossing my arms to try to keep some warmth. “But I did tell her I would help.”

“’As she even told you ‘appy birthday yet?” he questioned. I glanced out the window and bit my lip. I really wish he wasn’t so hard on Sammy. I mean, I can see where he’s coming from most of the time, but Goddamn does he put me in a tough position. She’s my best friend, I don’t want to listen to him hate on her all the time. If he wants to complain, fine. But being downright hateful is unnecessary.

“She’s had a busy day,” I finally spoke, turning and narrowing my eyes at him when he was about to say something else. “And you know, you don’t always have to be so mean to her.”

“I’m not mean to ‘er,” he gasped, looking offended.

“Ha! Kris, you’re always making fun of her! You’re always bitching about her. You hate her, and I don’t even understand why!” I ranted, turning in my seat so I could stare him down just a bit better. “It’s totally unlike you to be so nasty, and I don’t understand it. Why does it have to be one of my best friends that you hate, why not one of the nasty puck sluts that Jordan picked up? Or Goose’s ex that cheated on him? Why is it Sammy that you hate so much?!”

“Because she’s the reason you’ve been ‘urting!” he finally snapped, slowing down the car and pulling off onto the shoulder. At least he was smart enough to pull over instead of letting the argument continue while trying to drive on icy roads.

“She’s not-“

“She is!” he insisted, his face beginning to redden just the slightest. “As much as I ‘ated it, you were ‘appy until she came along! As soon as she came ‘ere for spring break, everything fell apart for you! You were so upset and so sad for so long, that I couldn’t take it! You ask me why I ‘ate ‘er, I want to know ‘ow you can not ‘ate ‘er!”

“Why did you hate that I was happy?” I asked slowly, after the levity of his words had processed with me. I understood what he meant, I could see why he felt that way. But what I didn’t get was why he was so worried about my happiness, and why on earth he had hated that I was.

“Because you were ‘appy with Max!” he growled, throwing his hands above his head in frustration.

“But Max is your friend,” I said slowly, tilting my head and studying him.

“Exactly,” he huffed, clenching his fists on the steering wheel. Oh boy he was mad, really mad. Like… I can’t remember seeing Kris this mad outside of a hockey game.

“I’m really confused,” I sighed, giving him a small smile in hopes that it would diffuse the situation. I really didn’t want him this angry, especially when I was worried that I was the one that had angered him.

“You don’t know, do you?” he asked me with just the faintest of smiles creeping across his lips. Well fuck, leave it to Tanger to do a total three-sixty in two point five seconds.

“Apparently not,” I shrugged. I didn’t know what I was supposed to know. I didn’t know what set him off. I didn’t know a lot of things apparently. And with as amused as he seemed now, I was starting to wonder how many people did know. “What am I missing?” I asked in a monotone, tired of playing this game with him.

“You really don’t know? After this long?”

“Know what?! Jesus Kristopher, if you don’t spit it out I’m going to grab you by the dick and force you to!”

My face hardened as he began to laugh. I didn’t want him to laugh, I wanted him to tell me. This was bullshit. He knew how I felt about Max, why couldn’t I know how he felt about whoever the fuck this girl

"Do you even know how hard it is?” he finally spoke after a few moments of silence. “When there's someone you want but you can't have them because they're with someone else? And every day you see them...they're happy and it...you hate that you're not the one making them smile, or laugh, or..." he trailed off before growling. "Do you even know?"

I stared blankly at him. Had he just forgotten who he was talking to? Or did he just lose his marbles?

“I thought you might,” he muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, you think?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. That was a damned stupid thing for him to say, and rather insensitive. Definitely not something I would have expected out of him. “What the hell do you think I've been going through these past eight months?"

"It's been three years for me."

Whooa there. Hold on a second. Did I just hear him right? Like, really? Surely I couldn’t have. Someone would have noticed. Wouldn’t they?

"Three years? Like... three years?" I checked, staring at him with wide eyes. Kris has always been a very private person, but I didn’t think he was that private.

"That's what I said."

"My God Kris, how? Why? ... Who?!" I rambled off quickly. It kind of stung a little bit that he was in love with someone, but I could deal with it. He deserved love. If anyone did, it was him. He avoided my gaze and shook his head as his face started to flush a bit. "Who is it, Kris? Do I know her?"

I waited for him to answer me, but instead, he began laughing. Here I was trying to be a good friend, and that fucker was laughing at me! "Why are you laughing?!” I demanded, just a bit childishly, I’ll admit. “Tell me, damn you!"

"Just don't worry about it,” he told me, still smiling like he was withholding some great secret. I guess he kind of was now that I think about it, and I was damned determined to find out.

"Don't worry about it? Kris, you've been going through this for three years, how can I not? Does she even know?"

"Well, I had thought she was figuring it out,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. I pursed my lips.

“But you never told her?"

"Non."

"Why not?"

“She was 'appy with someone else,” he answered with a shrug, now working extremely hard to avoid looking me in the eye.

"Well...that's hardly fair, is it? You should tell her,” I advised. I knew that if someone was in love with me, I’d want them to tell me. I’m too much of a coward to ask someone, or make a move.

"Maybe she should figure it out on her own,” he countered with a bit of an edge in his voice. Uh-oh, someone was getting grumpy.

"But how can she? She's obviously clueless,” I scoffed. I mean, three years? Surely she had to know by now. I really just hope it wasn’t that one ex that he had. She was such a bitch to him… and everyone else. “You know, I really want to know who she is now. Whoever she is, she's got to have a few screws loose if she can't see how you feel about her and-"

"Taylor-"

"Even more so if she doesn't feel the same way,” I added sternly. He groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

"Can you leave it alone, please?"

"Do I ever leave anything alone?" I questioned with a smirk. He cracked a smile for a second, but then it faded right back into frustration.

"You've left the Max thing alone,” he pointed out quietly. I bit my lip and stared at my feet, trying to decide if I wanted to feel angry that he had brought that up, or upset that there even was a ‘Max thing’.

"One, that's a low blow. Two, that's different."

"'Ow is it different?" he asked incredulously.

"He's getting married! To my best friend!” I reminded him with a glare. “So unless you're in a situation like that you... Oh."

"Oh? Finally figured it out?" he chuckled. I shook my head in disbelief. No way, no freaking way.

"Is that why you're so damn mean to her?"

"I'm really not that mean,” he defended with a hint of a smile.

"You kind of are Kris. And no wonder she doesn't know how you feel. You're so rude to her,” I repeated, still trying to wrap my head around this. It just seemed so impossible.

"Rude... What? Who are you talking about?" he asked quickly with an alarmed look. Did he not realize what an ass he was to her? What the hell Kristopher…

"Sammy,” I stated bluntly, watching for recognition on his face. “Isn't that who you meant?" I asked after a moment of silence.

"Tabernacle no! No, no, no! Definitely not Sammy!" he rambled quickly, waving his arms in the air as his accent got thicker. Aw, now that was cute. I loved when he got flustered like that, between the flush in his cheeks and the extra lilt to his words it was just hot.
"Tabernacle no?" I teased, watching him blush even more when I called him out on the Quebecois curse.

"Yes. Hell no,” he clarified.

"Who, then?" I repeated. Kris growled out a ‘leave it’, and said nothing else as he pulled back out onto the interstate. I guess he had decided he was tired of just sitting there. It really wasn’t getting us home any faster.

We didn’t speak much for the next couple hundred miles. Well, Kris didn’t. Every ten minutes or so, I’d try to get the mystery girl’s name out of him. It never worked, unfortunately. Tanger was a tough fucking egg to crack. After a while, he even started ignoring me.

Me! The man managed to ignore me!

He must have the patience of a saint.

After a while, I too fell silent. Not because I was giving up. Oh no; no, no, no; I, my friend, do not give up. I was just reevaluating my strategy. Obviously the pestering itself wouldn’t work. I needed something that would get under his skin. Something that would weaken the walls he had put up since this girl had come into the conversation.

"Sooo... psychologists say that the average 'crush' only lasts about four months,” I began quietly, peaking over to see if he was even remotely interested. Once I saw that there wasn’t a glare or look of contempt on his face, I continued. “Anything that last longer than that, is love. This includes personality though. Not just wanting to bang someone because they're hot."

"Didn't know that,” he muttered thoughtfully. He certainly didn’t seem surprised though.

"I didn't figure you did."

"Was there a point to that?" he questioned with a raised brow as he switched lanes.

"Well I was just thinking... four months and it starts to become love... three years... Jesus. You don't just have a thing for this girl, Kris. It's... stronger... than that, isn't it?" I asked cautiously, waiting for a reaction. I almost missed it, his face dropping just a bit before he put up a façade. That’s when I knew I was right. He didn’t just like this girl. He was in love.

He didn’t reply right away, so I waited. I figured he would eventually say something, even if it was just telling me I was stupid and to shut up. But he didn’t. He didn’t even try to deny it. And I was starting to feel bad.

"Kris...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad,” I mumbled timidly, reaching over to lay my hand on his am. I was hoping it would comfort him, or at least let him know that I was calling a truce and giving up. But instead, he tensed.

"I...it's alright, jolie."

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately. I hoped I hadn’t upset him too much. He looked to frazzled right now. Hell, he looked downright uncomfortable. Goddammit, I really need to learn when to keep my mouth shut.

"Nothing."

"Tell me,” I pleaded. It wasn’t because I just wanted to know anymore. I’d given up on figuring out who the girl was. I just wanted to know how to make him feel better. I hated seeing him upset. In a way, it hurt me.

"Nothing,” he snapped. I flinched back a bit, not having expected the anger, but he quickly repeated himself in a much calmer voice. “It's...nothing. Leave it be."

"Kris-"

"God damn it, Taylor!” he finally broke, slamming his hands on the steering wheel as his face reddened. This time, however, he wasn’t turning red out of embarrassment. This time, it was anger. “Open your eyes! You want to know who it is so badly?” he asked with a huff. "It's been staring you in the face for three damn years and you haven't figured it out and I'm tired of this conversation-"

"Then just fucking TELL me-" I yelled back. I’d had enough of his cryptic shit. He was getting pissed because I wouldn’t let this die, but he didn’t have the balls to just come out and tell me so I could help! What the fuck was his problem?!

"YOU! It's you! Are you happy now?!"

Notes

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