Chapter Text
Gina sat, warm under the covers on her bed, watching the bright shapes and figures of the television move rapidly within the bleariness of her vision. Finally, she felt close to falling asleep. Now -- she was just aimlessly waiting for the sweet release of unconsciousness to take a hold of her body.
Although, often at night, whilst very real figures danced upon the screen of the TV as she slept, figurative ones danced inside her mind, active and recognisable, dancing the same sweet waltz day in, day out. Just one moment in time, on repeat, one she was yet to experience herself yet one that felt so innately familiar to her.
The white silk of her curtains danced like twirling ribbons in the slight breeze emanating from the window, which she’d left ever so slightly ajar to allow the wind of the night to circulate its cooling touch around her room.
It was from this very same ajar window, one which led right onto the pitch blackness of Ashlyn’s front lawn, that no more than two minutes later (right at the point of no return, where her body had just about succumbed to the temptation of sleep) came the lightest of knocks against glass -- one she had heard many times before, of pebble striking against window. Though nothing more than a twinkle of noise in the night, she knew the weight of the message it carried, it was enough to completely encapsulate her attention, almost hypnotically so. And then -- before she even had a chance to rub the back of her hand against her clouded eyes, it was from that ajar window which came the faintest of melodies, carried into her presence upon the constant flow of cold night air.
The melody was one which she recognised easily, one with the same notes that had played on a relentless loop within her mind since she had first heard them -- since she’d watched his deep brown eyes so intently, and he’d watched hers too, as though he’d finally seen her, as though she was the only girl for him.
She hadn’t been.
Not at the time, and especially not now. Not now that he was dating her. But upon once more hearing what she had hoped to hear for so long, even just one last time, was more than enough to tempt her drowsy body out of the cocoon of duvets and fleece blankets in which she was wrapped, and lure her to the open window like a melodic siren song.
And sure enough -- Ricky was there, stood looking up at her from the front lawn. Standing with a guitar in his hands, and a smile on his face that began to grow, almost exponentially so, when she stuck her head out of the window and, across the darkness, their eyes locked upon each other.
His fingers stilled on the strings, almost like his spirit had become completely and utterly entangled by her presence. There was something behind his eyes, something bewitching, like a flame she only ever saw when he was looking straight at her.
Something, maybe as simple as a gust of Autumn wind down the base of his spine broke his enrapture, bringing him back to the here and now. The reality where he was stood in front of Gina, bouncing on the balls of his feet and anticipating.
“I know that night, when you came back, you told me that I didn’t have to say anything --” He said, dragging out the words ‘say anything’. “Ricky, what are you --” She tilted her head at him, glancing from his eyes to the guitar he held firmly in his hands, and back. There was something almost… familiar about the scene. Like she’d seen it in a film before. “Oh my God.”
Gina’s eyes widened in realisation. “Ricky, are you seriously Say Anything-ing me right now?”
[To Say Anything (Verb) -- To ‘Say Anything’ someone is the act of holding a boombox or other audio device outside the subject’s house and/or bedroom window, almost always in the hopes of winning their affections. Frequently referenced throughout pop culture history. In reference to the 1989 Cameron Crowe film.]
Ricky grinned widely as she watched him, and rapidly nodded his head. Gina sat upon her windowsill, one floor above from where he stood on the dewy evening grass, dangling her legs over the ledge as he began to play. As, once more, he sang her the same song he’d played to her that afternoon after rehearsals, the briefest of moments in time, one which now felt as though it was eons ago, like it was nothing more than a droplet within the expansive lake of memories that she held of East High.
Yet, almost curiously so, out of everything she’d experienced there, the ups and downs, the friends she’d allowed herself to make and the walls she had let crumble down, the moments she’d shared with Ricky were the ones that stood most prominent in her mind. Every glancing look they’d shared across crowded rooms. Every lingering touch. Out of everything, those fleeting moments in time were undoubtedly the ones she thought of most.
Even now, here, as she sat precariously perched in the window, and as Ricky watched her from Ashlyn’s front lawn, she listened to him just as intently as she had that first time she’d heard him sing it. She listened as though it was the very first time, as though she’d never heard the words before. Like she wanted to memorise the very infliction of the words. Like she wanted to take the words, write every single one out, and tattoo them upon her skin.
She watched as his eyes focused only on hers. He didn’t even have to glance down to watch the placement of his fingers on the chords he was playing. He was looking only at Gina.
When he’d finished and swung the guitar around so it sat flush against his back, Gina hurriedly clambered down the rose bush trellises that ruched up to her window, and she embraced him on the front lawn.
His arms wrapped around her waist and he lifted her into a hug, spinning her around in the air. “Are you sure?” She asked quietly into his ear. Because that was all that mattered to her. That he had chosen her because he wanted to. Outside of the heat of the moment, outside of a seeming necessity to.
“Never have I ever been so sure. He told her in response, as the cold skin of his hand lightly cupped her cheek, with a reaffirming touch. “I’ve never needed anything more.”
Then, once he’d placed her gently back down onto the grass, she nudged him gently with her elbow. “When we were watching it with your Dad, I thought I explicitly told you not to Say Anything me?” Her other hand played with the silver ring that sat on his index finger on his left hand, more so out of habit than anything else.
He smiled into her lips as he pulled her into him. “I wasn’t going to, but then I remembered what you’d said to me the night you came back. Everything you’ve ever said to me, I can remember it all. Clear as day.”
“That’s so cheesy. You’re so cheesy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him again, like it was the very first time, like it was fresh and it was the start of something new. Like she had to remind herself that this was real. That he was real.
As she clambered back up to her window, Gina held her hand out for Ricky to grab, helping to heave him up and past the thicket of rose bushes that stood outside of the window of her room at Ashlyn’s. Then -- when they got into her room they stood there, still, for a moment as Ricky too waited, perched over the windowsill, his legs still resting on the trellis. It was like something from a long-ago fairytale, like she was Rapunzel and she had just let down her hair.
“So,” she sucked in a breath, taking a seat on her bed, “What are you doing to do about Nini?”
Nini. The girl he was still very much dating. His girlfriend.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
She tilted her head at him, utterly unconvinced that he was willing to ever even broach the subject. She knew Ricky. Rather than ever talking about a problem out loud, she knew how much he’d rather completely ignore it and just let it fester in the deepest well of his mind. “You don’t think dating the both of us at the same time is ‘coming to it’?”
Ricky dragged out another sigh, still stood upon the trellis just outside of her window, and leaning his head on the windowsill as he watched Gina. “Okay. Maybe you’re right.”
“Just like always, Bowen.” She reminded him, resting her hands on the windowsill on either side of him, and daring to lean her face in to meet his.
“Yeah. That’s like, one of the things I love most about you.” He stood up, leaning into her to brush his lips against hers, but just as his lips threatened to meet hers, she spoke again.
“Don’t go all sweet on me now Bowen. We seriously need to sort out --” Then, she froze.
Creak.
“Gi? What is it?” Ricky whispered, lightly taking a hold of her wrist in his hand. Gina’s free hand planted over his mouth, covering it before he could say any more.
She nodded her head, motioning behind her. Another loud creak of the floorboards. Somebody was walking around outside of her room.
Hurriedly, she shoved Ricky back down the trellis, ducking his head just beneath the wind, and just in time too. Because, as she swung back around from the open window, EJ’s face was looking back at her from the doorway.
“Whatcha doing?” He asked her, nonchalantly. Almost too nonchalantly.
Maybe this was simply a symptom of the whole “having a relationship behind everyone’s backs” thing. Or maybe he had heard something. She had to think on her toes.
“Uh, just -- you know --” In that mere moment of hesitation, Ricky’s cold hand fell into hers once more, squeezing it once before leaving something in its wake. She brought it to her face. “Just smelling the roses.” She casually twirled the crimson bloom Ricky had just passed her between her fingers.
Quick thinking, Bowen.
“At 10 pm?”
Gina smiled, hiding any hint of reluctance in her voice. “...Yes.”
“Okay…” EJ nodded slowly, all whilst squinting at her suspiciously. “Cool, that’s grand, you do you. We could’ve sworn we heard voices though?”
“Uhm. Nope! Not me. Definitely, no voices coming from here. That was simply --” She paused again, to think of another excuse for what EJ had definitely very clearly heard. “What you heard was… well it was me talking to myself. Yes. That’s all that was happening here. Nothing else.”
Damn it Gina. For someone who’d played the lead in more musicals than she could count, she sure was fluffing her lines the one time it actually counted towards something important.
“Right,” EJ said, still squinting at her. “Well… I’m gonna go, and I’m gonna leave you and the voices in your head to yourself.” He said and slowly backed out of the room, shutting the door tight behind him.
She spun back around to where Ricky had already stood back on top of the trellis, his hands on the windowsill propping himself up, and his nose was suddenly pressed to hers, with another of the red flowers in his hand. “Want another one?”
He gently brushed aside a loose curl, and tucked the stem of the flower behind her ear before closing the space between their lips once more, savouring like it was their very first.
She smiled into him. “You got lucky. But we do need to sort this out at some point. You can’t spend your whole life running from your problems, Bowen.”
He shot a smile back at her, finally stepping down to clamber back down the side of Ashlyn’s house. “You know me too well.”
Before he could entirely release his grip on the windowsill, Gina grabbed at his wrist. “Promise me, Ricky.”
In response, he offered her his pinkie finger. She interlocked it with hers. “I’ll text you when I get home?”
Reluctantly, she nodded at him, and kissed him once more as he took another step back down the labyrinthine trellis. “Make sure nobody sees you leave.” She told him, gesturing to the front window, within which EJ and Ashlyn both sat, their mouths full of popcorn and their TV laying one of the Bridget Jones movies.
He took a step backward, his eyes never leaving Gina’s. Even when he reached the pavement his eyes stayed locked upon hers, like he too was taking this all in. It was really happening. He paused, waiting for a moment. Silently, like it was more of a reminder to himself than anything else, he mouthed three words at her under the sepia glow of the streetlamps.
Gina rapped her knuckle against the front door of Ricky’s house the next day. She’d been here before -- the first time being that night of Thanksgiving a year ago, when she’d come here, for him, to make sure he was alright, all because that little voice at the back of her mind had told her that he wasn’t. She’d been here several times after that too after she’d come back permanently. Once, when they’d spontaneously decided to have a marathon of 80s films, (one which had included Say Anything), and were joined by Ricky’s Dad halfway through the night.
But this time, now that they were Ricky and Gina officially, something felt uniquely different.
“Mr. Bowen! Hi!” It was Ricky’s Dad who first greeted her at the door, his smile upon seeing her just as wide as Ricky’s usually was.
“Gina! Come in, come in, I’m sure it’s freezing outside,” he stepped aside to let Gina into the house, “But, haven’t I already asked you to call me Mike?”
“Sorry --”
“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat?”
“No thank you --”
“Ricky! You’ve got a guest!” He shouted up the stairs, as he turned to stand in the kitchen, leaned against the countertop. He reminded Gina so much of his son. His mind seemed to be everywhere but nowhere at the same time. “So Gina, what brings you to our humble abode today?”
“Well, I was just --” She paused. Did Ricky’s Dad know about them? What would he think if he did know? Thankfully, Gina didn’t find out, because Mike’s eyes suddenly landed upon the tray of cookies Gina held in her hands, something he seemingly noticed when he’d first let her into the house. He gasped. “You know Gina, you’ve always been my favourite out of Ricky’s friends.”
She laughed, placing the tray on the countertop, and offering him one. Apple and cinnamon, that she’d spent a good two hours making earlier in the afternoon.
Mike sunk into it like he was having a religious experience. “Gina, you outdo yourself with these every single time. How do you do it?” He asked, having already finished one and reaching for another one.
“I can’t take all the credit for these, I actually found the recipe on --”
“-- Youtube, right?” Ricky came up behind her, taking one of the biscuits, and her hand, dragging her away with him.
Now -- they were standing in his room. She’d been in here before, but somehow, now that she was with him, it felt different. Like she finally allowed herself to take notice of the cadence in his room, how it was so quintessentially him. With posters and cutouts from various magazines about countless different things splayed out and covering every inch of the paneled walls. There was order to the chaos though. Like the small section just above his bed that consisted entirely of polaroid pictures, every single one with a small date scribbled upon it in dark black sharpie.
As Ricky tossed his jacket across the room and onto a chair in the furthest corner, Gina sat up on her knees, aimlessly running her fingers across the pictures. The same face stood beside Ricky’s in almost every single one, no matter who else was in the picture, no matter which date, what year was etched into the bottom.
“Wow… you really have spent most of your life with this girl, huh?” She asked him, right as he joined her at the top of his bed.
“Gi --” He reached down for her hand. Gina tore her eyes away from the pictures and met Ricky’s.
“It’s okay, I get it.” She looked back to the faces that smiled back at her, ones she recognised from around the halls of East High. Most of them had known each other, seemingly, for their whole lives. Gina was just an outsider. “I can’t even imagine knowing someone for this long, and then --”
Ricky spoke over her. “Gina. It’s you. I promise you one-hundred and ten percent.” His hand met hers. “It’s just -- with Nini, it’s like…” He tried to think of the words, but understandably, it seemed hard for him to properly articulate just how his relationship with Nini worked, what it was like to spend your whole life with someone, to grow up with someone, to have memories of someone before anything else. Everything Gina had never experienced. They’d had so much longer to make memories than Ricky and Gina had.
He took a deep breath beside her, interlocking his fingers with hers. “I guess… I guess the reason I’ve been so reluctant to let her go is because whenever I think of pre-Todd, when my parents were still together -- I guess Nini was always there.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have --”
Ricky waved her off. “No. Don’t apologise. Cause I promise you, Gina, as soon as we’ve finished the show, I’m breaking up with her.”
“Yeah?”
He put a finger under her chin, tilting her head upwards so her eyes met his. “It’s the only other reason I haven’t done it already. You know how bad it was with everything last year.”
Gina wrapped her arms around his shoulder, pulling him in close. “Okay, to be fair, that makes a lot of sense. And personally, I really don’t know if I have the stomach to sit through another Breaking Free moment.”
Ricky groaned, his head sitting right in the crick of her neck. “Please don’t remind me.”
She smiled as they both flopped back down on the bed, her hand still interlocked with his and absentmindedly playing with the ring that sat around his index finger. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Gi -- You’re my girlfriend. It would’ve been an absolute dick move for me to have just not said anything about it.”
Gina quirked an eyebrow in response. “More of dick move than dating two girls at once?”
Ricky feigned a gasp, leaping straight off the bed. “Gina Porter! That’s so rude!” He screamed, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around in front of him. “You’re gonna get it for that!”
Her eyes widened. “I’d like to see you try.” His hands were still resting on her waist. Then -- he started tickling. “Hey! What the hell?” She reached back for one of the pillows that sat where they had just been. “I’ll have you know that I am in fact the Porter Family Pillowfight Champion… Sure, it’s only me and my Mum but --” She thwacked him around the head with one of the pillows.
He gasped sharply, grabbing his own pillow and hitting her with it.
“Ricky, didn’t your parents ever teach you not to hit girls?” She asked, before hitting him back, twice as hard.
He quickly tossed the pillow in the general direction of the bed, and gently put his hands on either side of Gina’s face, looking right into her, like he knew every thought she’d ever had.
“Hey!” She shouted, lifting the pillow above her head, ready to strike it down at any necessary moment, “That’s very clearly against the rules.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said, “Rule number one, no distracting the opponents.”
He pushed his nose into hers, prompting her to swing, but her arm fell limp, dropping the pillow to her feet. His lips drew closer to hers until nothing but a breath separated them. But all too quickly Ricky’s hand was over her mouth as the loud ring of the doorbell sounded around the house, and Ricky’s Dad’s voice floated up the stairs.
“Ricky! Nini’s here to see you!”
Both of their eyes widened. What was she doing here? How the hell were they going to get out of this one? Had Ricky’s Dad told her that Gina was upstairs? Ultimately, without a word passed between the two of them, they decided on quietly hurrying down the stairs, stopping to crouch down on the stairs just out of view of the door, presumably where Nini was standing, but making sure they were in the direct line of Ricky’s Dad’s vision.
They waved and flapped their hands about, trying to get his attention, exaggeratedly grimacing and making throat-slitting gestures, any signal to tell him to stop and get her away, as Mike turned to look at the both of them huddled closely together on the stairs.
He raised an eyebrow at their antics momentarily, but before long, his eyes widened and he seemed to grasp just what they were saying. Or rather -- asking of him. He turned back to where Nini was standing, still in the drizzle, still in the cold, just outside of the front door. “Actually… Ricky’s not here right now.” He told her.
“But I swore I just heard --”
Mike spoke over her. “Yeah. Sorry, I thought he was here. I’m just… losing my marbles a bit.” He risked an affirming glance back to where Ricky and Gina still sat on the carpeted steps and shot them a subtle thumbs up. Once more, Gina’s hand sat in Ricky’s, running her fingers over his ring.
“Oh. That’s okay though, do you mind if I come in and wait? It’s quite cold, and I’ve got something to give him.” Gina could almost hear the infliction of a sickly sweet smile within her voice as she spoke. It borderline made her want to gag.
In response to her question, Mike looked back at them once more, and straight away Ricky made a shooing action with his arms, telling his Dad to get her away.
“Yeah. No.” Mike told Nini. “I can take that for you though!” He smiled.
“Oh. Okay?”
“Yeah. Bye!” He shut the door almost right in her face, and, with whatever Nini had brought Ricky in his hands, Mike hurried over to where Ricky and Gina were still crouched down upon the stairs.
“Do you guys mind telling me what’s going on?”
Immediately, Gina’s eyes landed on Ricky’s, silently willing him to break the silence and answer his Dad’s question.
“Nope,” was all that Ricky said, his eyes still firmly planted on his Dad’s.
Something within her urged Gina to clear her own throat, to reach out and nudge Ricky gently with her elbow. “Ricky. It’s okay --” She whispered, close by him.
There was a reluctance there. An unwillingness to admit to his Dad what was going on. Almost like talking about it made it real, that they were actually going through with this plan, the one to sneak around behind everyone’s backs until after the last show had been performed. Ricky huffed, standing up and meeting his Dad on the landing. His hand instinctively slipped into Gina’s again, leading her down the stairs with him.
He sighed once more before speaking. “Dad, you know Gina,” she smiled weakly, forever wishing that this scenario was one with more nuance. Something easier for his Dad to digest than just coming straight out with it. Mike had known Nini for just as long as Ricky had. How would he take it? He was friends with Nini’s parents. He’d watched Nini grow up. Surely Nini was just as much family to him as Ricky himself was?
Mike Bowen nodded a smile. “Hi Gina,” he spoke softly, noticeably more reserved than how he had spoken to Nini just moments before.
“Hi, Ricky’s Dad.” She corrected herself. “Mike.”
Like it was a habit, her eyes flitted to Ricky’s for reassurance. His hand was still in hers, and his thumb traced the back of her hand like a silent message of encouragement. She smiled and nodded at Ricky to continue.
“See, the thing is --” he paused, and this time, like a known thing between the two of them, it was Gina’s thumb that rubbed circles on the back of his hand, wordlessly telling him it was okay. “We’re, you know --” At that point, Ricky gave up with words and just held up his and Gina’s interlocked hands to his Dad.
A smile of recognition was suddenly painted across Mike Bowen’s face. “Right, the old illicit affair schtick.”
Ricky tilted his head. “I don’t think --”
Mike Bowen tapped a finger to his temple. “Believe it or not, I was once a kid your age too, Ricky.”
This time, at rehearsals, Ricky’s arm sat languidly in his own lap, when ordinarily, it would’ve been draped across Nini’s shoulder. Instead of watching Nini, instead of listening to her sing, instead of taking in the words she spoke to him, Ricky’s eyes were almost constantly threatening to meet Gina’s.
Perhaps worse (at least for the fate of the two of them), was that it wasn’t hard to notice at all. With every word Miss Jenn spoke to their collective, Ricky’s eyes dared to drift more and more towards Gina, and she didn’t even think that he noticed that he was doing it, but every time they did, Gina found herself wondering exactly how long they would even be able to even keep up the pretense.
She wondered, at one point, if they’d even manage to make it to Christmas without the whole thing blowing back into their faces.
She knew for certain that it wasn’t hard to notice how they were acting around each other when, halfway through the hour-long rehearsal, Ashlyn came up behind her and mentioned how Ricky’s eyes were constantly on her, daring to follow her figure as she danced across the floor.
Ordinarily, she’d be more than happy with that. Hearing that he was watching her that closely would’ve likely sent an unimaginable blush to her cheeks. But she knew how it would’ve appeared to an outsider.
She knew she’d have to say something. Nini was right there, and she knew how suspicious it must have looked (how suspicious it was) having Ricky’s eyes follow her around the room, desperately trying to meet hers. Espeically when his girlfriend (at least the one everybody in the room knew about) stood only inches away from him.
When Nini swung her arms up around Ricky’s shoulders, she found herself presented with an opportunity. Unsure of how Ricky would react, she stammered a breath and spoke. “Pack it up Dipper and Mabel. Halloween isn’t until October.”
Her eyes found Ricky’s, glaring back at her in confusion, but without having to move, not even raise an eyebrow, with nothing more than a look that told him everything, a look that willed him into realisation, Ricky straight away seemed to fully understand what she was getting at.
“Yeah? Well, I think that when I want your opinion, I’ll ask.”
She scoffed. (And she was pretty sure that one was the real deal).
“Meet me at The Cupboard in 5” was the text she’d received from him just before the end of their rehearsal.
EJ and Ashlyn had already started to head to the cafeteria for lunch, so she excused herself, blaming homework she’d needed to catch up on, and hurried to the janitor’s cupboard far and away on the other side of the school.
Before she could stop and enter, a hand emerged from the darkened cupboard, grabbing her gently around the wrist and pulling her into the deep darkness. “Fancy seeing you here.” He said, pulling on the light cord and illuminating the tiny room with a blue-tinged LED glow.
“You really waited in the dark for me? Why didn’t you simply switch the light on before I got here?”
He waved his hands in front of her, as though he was conjuring something from thin air. “The illusion.” He smiled at her. Gina scoffed because she knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. “If you’d like to step into my office.” He gestured behind him to where two buckets sat upside down on the floor on either side of a cardboard box in the furthest corner of the supply closet.
“Cute location for a first date. You really put some thought into this, huh?” She chirpsed, placing her bag down by her feet as she sat in front of Ricky, who was smiling at her so brightly, in a way she was certain she’d never seen him do with Nini.
Stop, she had to remind herself. Comparing yourself to her is only going to get you hurt in the long run. But then she reminded herself that, perhaps she was right to. It was her who Ricky was sat with now, in a cupboard with cobwebs in every visible corner when he could so easily be sat in the cafeteria with his friends, and it was her who Ricky couldn’t stop looking at all throughout rehearsal. Not Nini.
Even though Nini was right there waiting for him, and a reminder of everything Ricky wanted back, everything that he’d spent so long trying to get back. And in the end? He had chosen Gina.
Ricky winked at her. “I promise I’ll take you on a proper one, just as soon as we sort out the elephant in the room.” Gina hummed in response, resting her head on her hands. “So we’re just acting like we’re so repulsed by each other to the point where people think we’ll never in a million years get together?”
Gina clapped her hands together. “I can’t believe you got that from that one look.”
“What did I tell you? We get each other.” He smiled, mirroring her by resting his head on both of his hands as well and looking up at her. “Do we have to do this?”
“Unless you want your girlfriend to find out about us?”
He groaned, jutting out his bottom lip dramatically and rolling his head onto Gina’s lap. “But I don’t want to be mean to you Gi.” He held out his hand for her take, and she did, letting her fingers trace the outline of that damned ring.
It had always been an act of habit for her pick at her fingernails whenever she was overthinking, or she was in her head about something. But now -- now that she had Ricky, whenever she felt those feelings arise, it was his hand she sought to find.
In a way, Ricky had become her new habit.
Her free hand instinctively brushed through the front strands of his curls. “Come on now. Don’t act like that’s not what we were doing all last year.”
Pouting again, he looked up at her. “Yeah, but that was flirting.”
Gina rolled her eyes. “You’re an actor Ricky. So act. Isn’t that what you’re good at?”
He nodded, reaching his hands up to rub circles into his eyes with the palms of his hand. “Who told me it was a good idea to have two girlfriends at once?”
That comment was met with a sharp punch to the arm from Gina. “Careful, or you’ll only have one very soon.” She laughed.
He lifted his heavy head up off her lap, raising his hands defensively. “Joke, it was just a joke.”
They sat there for a moment. It was finally just about sinking in. That was, what they were about to do. To act, in front of all of their friends like they weren’t together. Acting the complete opposite. Because they had decided that this -- for whatever reason, that it was the easiest option.
Gina sighed. The show was still almost six months away, and Ricky wasn’t looking to break up with Nini any time soon. And though it hurt, she got it. She always understood him. That was just how they worked -- how they’d always worked. There wasn’t likely to be a time that she couldn’t glance at that boy and at any given time, know exactly what was going through his mind. Because often -- it was exactly the same as what was going through her own mind.
“We’re really going to do this, huh?” He huffed, lifting himself out of his seat and offering his hand to help Gina off of her bucket.
“Guess so.” She sighed once more.
As was tradition, by the time she’d been lifted off her feet, Ricky’s pinkie finger was held out in front of her, ready to be grasped by her own. And though she rolled her eyes (because who wouldn’t at the sheer cheesiness of it all), she swiftly took a hold of his pinkie and intertwined it with hers, linking them with a wordless promise.
“We should leave before the janitor invites himself to our party.” She remarked, picking her bag up off the floor.
“Okay, but you should leave first because it’ll look suspicious if we both leave at the same time.”
“Ricky,” she said plainly. “We’re currently hiding in a supply cupboard, planning on how to get around you cheating on your girlfriend. I think we’re already pretty suspicious, as is.”
“I --“ he started. And then, “Yeah, no you’re right.”
“Always am.” She added.
“You always are.” He repeated.
“I’ll see you in English?” She asked, tracing her hand over his one last time.
“See you in English.”