Thursday, May 8, 2008



Henry and I talked for a couple of hours, just vegging out and watching cheesy romance movies. Now, my best friend is straight, but sometimes he can seem very feminine, and now was one of those times.
Sidney called around four, after Henry had left for work again. He wanted to see how I was doing, so I invited him over, wanting to explain why I reacted how I did with Marc. Sidney needs to know about Nate.
Sid came just as I finished cleaning up, and I let him in shortly after he knocked. I led him to my room, telling him to sit on the bed. I went over to my shelves and pulled out my thick photo album.
"Okay. There's something you need to know about before we can be friends. And I don't really trust people easily, but I feel really comfortable around you," I said, sitting across from him on the bed, setting the book in front of me, "which is why I'm letting you see this." I pushed it towards him.
Sid opened it hesitantly, and began to gaze at the pictures.
"Now it's story time."

"Ever since I can remember I had always been the best of friends with Nathan Peterson. In the middle of grade ten, he asked me out and things got even better. By grade eleven, we were nearly inseparable, and we'd even talked about getting engaged after finishing school. But when homecoming rolled around, he didn't ask me to go. He said that he had to go up North for a cross country meet. A bunch of friends convinced me to with them, so I did. But I really do regret it. Henry and I were walking through the halls of the main building, which was two stories, on our way to leave. We heard some pretty strange noises coming from a classroom, so I opened the door, and saw Nate screwing a girl named Savannah Brooks, who'd been after him since we started going out," I didn't dare look up to see Sidney's expression, I just took a breath and continued.
"I'd never ran so fast in my life.. I got outside, and ran down a flight of stairs. Nate followed me, but he fell down those damn stairs, and slammed his head on the concrete, then passed out. Someone called an ambulance, and they got him breathing, but he was still unconscious, even at the hospital. The doctors said he was in some sort of coma, and after eight and a half weeks, his parents.."
I stopped, and Sidney lifted my face gently, so I could see the comforting look in his eyes. He reached out, taking my hand in his.
"Nate's parents knew he had given up. There wasn't any fight left in him... So they pulled the plug on him, and it's all my fault."

"Did Marc say something about it to piss you off?" I nodded slightly, and he pulled me into a warm hug.
"I know he didn't mean it, but it still hurts."
"What'd he say?"
"Well, it seems really stupid now, but he said that it's almost been a year and a half, and I needed to get over it already. But,"
"No one could ever forget something like that. He had no right to say anything that hurtful to you."
"Yeah, I know," I sighed into him, pulling back to let him finish looking through the pictures.
"Want me to beat him up?"
"Nah, I think I could take him," I cracked a small smile.
However tiny it may have been, it caused Sidney's entire face to light up, and I found it to be very attractive.

"Hey! I know what we can do to start your section on my wall of fame," my smile grew larger.
"What's that?"
"You'll have to see," I grabbed my iPod off the nightstand, and docked it on the iHome.
"I'm gonna give you a makeover. You can't wear Pens paraphernalia all the time!" I fake glared at his 'You Can't Handle the Penguins' shirt.
I grabbed my camera and took a quick picture of us, then put it back.
"What was that?"
"For before and afters." I took his hand, dragging him into Henry's room.
I dug through his closet, finding the perfect pair of jeans and pulled out a checkered, almost flannel looking shirt, with earthy brown tones. I found a light tan Volcom thermal, and handed Sidney the stuff. He just looked at it, "Uh. Isn't it weird that I'm wearing your best friend's clothes?"
"It's all in good fun. Maybe if you like this, we can redo your wardrobe."
"Sounds cool.." I left the room, letting Sid change.

When he came out, I was in a state of shock. He looked so.. so hot.
"You look awesome," I tried to hide the excitement in my voice.
"Thanks. Now its your turn. Come on!"
"It's your turn for a makeover," he brought me back to my room, and opened my closet.
"Sit," he instructed, rummaging through my tops and accessories.
He threw a small, black Mario Lemieux shirt at me, along with a pair of black leggings and my favourite scarf; a Coach Legacy edition one from Marc.
"Pants?" Sidney asked, and I pointed to the dresser.
"Ooh," he smirked a bit, pulling out a lacy red thong.
My first response was, "it's Henry's!" Sidney and I burst out laughing, then he found a pair of my Lucky jeans, with naturally worn holes on the knees.
He'd even picked out my cute black moccasin style Uggs to wear, too.
"I need a tank to go under the shirt. It's too short."
Sidney shook his head, "Nope. Sorry. Now, go put it on."
I groaned, and shoved him out of my room.
I pulled the outfit on, slipping into the Uggs. I smiled at my reflection,
'He doesn't have bad taste..'
The Lemiuex shirt was old, so it'd shrank over time, making it fit me perfectly, aside from the length. That's what I get for being tall. I braided my long hair into pigtails, tying them off with black ribbons.

Opening the door, I let Sidney in.
"Woah.." he smiled widely, "admit it."
"Admit what?" I asked, watching him try to check me out discreetly.
"That I have a good sense of style."
"I don't have to do anything of the sort!"
"But I made you sexy!"
"Excuse me?" I took notice of how much space was between us.. Or lack there of.
"Okay. Sexier. How's that?"
"Much better. Y'know Crosby, you're not as bad as I thought you'd be."
"You either Aubs," he cut himself off, closing the gap between us, pressing his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in as close as I could. Rather than protest, he continued, and coaxed my mouth open.
I let myself fall back onto the bed, bringing Sidney with me, not once stopping for breath.
Before we could really get into it, I heard that all too familiar voice, and he was shouting,
"What the fuck is this?!"
Yeah. My brother. Can you say busted?

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