Chapter Text
Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro just confirmed for me what I already knew. What Baljeet had told me an hour ago.
Isabella.
The girl I’ve loved for years.
She had feelings for me, too. Since we were kids. And I had no idea.
Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro said Isabella was gone— like, driving-car-school gone. I had just missed her. I just missed what might have been the first day of the rest of my life. Probably by barely a few minutes. My brain felt no less broken than it did when Baljeet broke the news. I knew I should’ve gotten my license. Maybe if I drove here I could have made it on time.
A stifled laugh, bitter and short, almost escaped me. ‘Guys don’t talk about their feelings’, Baljeet?
I built an entire cruise ship focused purely on maximizing potential romance for this guy. What did he even mean by saying that we don’t talk about our feelings?
My chest tightened a bit. Angry… disappointed. Angry at myself, yes. But also, angry at my friends. At Ferb. Seriously, WHY did nobody tell me this sooner?
“Agh,” I say. The only sound my vocal chords can muster from grappling with the notion that she might really be gone— that it might really be over. “I wish I had known,” I tell Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro.
Part of me wants to run home. Part of me wants to stay, maybe even ask Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro to call her back. That would work, right?
Part of me wants to just walk into the ocean and never come back. I feel like I just blew my entire life up. My brain is going haywire, and instead of moving— going home, pleading with her mom, no matter how embarrassing it may be, or actually just throwing myself into the ocean… I’m staying still.
I don’t move for what feels like an hour. It’s probably been more like a minute, though. Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro’s eyes are locked on me. Worried.
“Phineas… are you okay? Should I call your mom?” she asks me.
Finally motor function returns. My eyes meet hers as a breath barely escapes my lungs. “N-no,” I say. “But… don’t call my mom. I’m gonna go home.”
As I start to walk away, I realize I just admitted to my years-long crush’s mom that her daughter leaving made me ‘not okay’, which is… unfortunate. But whatever, I reason. It seems like all of Danville already knew about it and just decided not to tell me.
Deep down, some part of me hopes maybe she went to my house. Maybe she also wanted to give it ‘one last shot’ so to speak. My heart feels like it’s tugging at my legs, telling me, Run! Run!
But my legs feel too heavy. I can’t.
Everything feels too heavy. What should have been a thirty minute jog becomes an hour-long walk. The second I can see the roof of my house from down the street, my heart sinks. I know she isn’t there. I can feel it.
Tears start to well up in my eyes as my ever-so-damn-optimistic heart is trying to keep me hopeful: She might be there! Don’t give up!
My optimism can be such a sick joke sometimes. This sucks. On top of all of this, I still haven’t even picked a college. I should have done it months ago— thankfully being ‘Phineas Flynn from Danville’ apparently has its perks; any school seems to be eager to have me.
But someone much more important used to be eager to have me, too. And that’s all I can think about right now.
When I finally reach Isabella’s house, I see everyone— even the Fireside Girls… Isabella’s friends— sitting on my front lawn.
I sigh. “What are you guys doing here?”
I’m not trying to be mean. I just really don’t want to interact with people. That concept is brand-new to me, too. Who knew squandered love could make you so cynical and anti-social.
Gretchen responds to me. Her voice feels tempered— like she knows something is wrong. Or she knows something I don’t.
“You missed her,” she says.
My head lurches forward. I slam my eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath as I turn my head to the sky. Every passing minute, the ‘walking into the ocean’ option feels more and more appealing.
“...shit.”
I don’t swear. I really don’t. My wires are crossed. Everyone here— hell, everyone in Danville— knows that in spite of it all, I’m the ‘bubbly, optimistic, happy kid’. I really can’t grasp why that part of me is losing this battle so hard.
Well, I can. I just… wish I could do something about it.
Gretchen walks over to me and gives me a hug. “I knew it. I tried to tell her for years that you liked her back, but she never believed me.”
A laugh slips out, and I return the hug. “That’s… unfortunate.”
I release myself from Gretchen and step back.
I analyze the group. Everyone’s got some variation of the same look on their face. They feel sorry for me. Why do they feel sorry for me? Is it maybe because each and every single one of them, at some point over the last ten years, could have told me?
Could have taken me aside and said, “Hey, Phineas, Isabella likes you, by the way!” or “Hey, bro, have you ever noticed, really noticed, how Isabella looks at you?” with some sort of knowing tinge in their voice— to try to get me to figure it out on my own. But no. Nobody said a thing.
And now, she’s gone.
I despise how… angry I am right now. This is an ugly shade on me and it’s making my skin crawl.
“Listen, guys. I know you all know exactly what’s happened, and maybe some of you want to stay here and comfort me or something…”
Some of the group nod as I speak.
“... but really, what I need… is to be left alone. I need to figure out… honestly, just— nevermind.”
I shake my head. With that, I walk into the house, quietly shuffling past Buford and Baljeet on the stairs in front.
I close the door a little harder than I mean to. Way to be dramatic, Phineas.
“Hello?” my Mom calls from the kitchen.
I’m not getting into this with her. I really don’t need another person feeling sorry for me. Time to really put on a brave face. “Hey, Mom.”
“Oh, Phineas?” she realizes. “Why’d you slam the door?”
“Sorry,” I say. “My hand slipped.”
“Oh, alright. I’m making steak and potatoes for dinner, are you hungry?”
I genuinely don’t think my body would let me eat, even if I wanted to. “No, but save some for me in the fridge, please.”
I slink up the stairs, my legs still barely moving as I walk. I eventually manage to just slam my face into my bed. As the mattress shifts to allow my face to smother itself, all I can do is make a noise.
“Agh!”
That feels kind of nice.
“Aaagh!”
This seems to be working for me.
“Aaaaghh!!!!” I scream into the mattress. Suddenly, I’m sniffling.
Damn it, I realize. I made myself cry.
That’s unfortunate. I try to fight it for a moment, but I can’t. And then, I don’t just cry, I sob for what feels like hours. Thankfully Ferb either didn’t come back in the house, or stayed downstairs. I feel like a mess.
By the time the sobbing finally subsides, replaced with the occasional sniffle, I'm rifling through my camera roll, looking at old memories of her and me. That's when Ferb opens the door to our room.
“Oh… man,” he says.
Thanks.
“Yeah,” I admit in a flat tone.
Ferb sits on the corner of my bed, eyes on me. I can see the hesitation in his expression. “...Do you… want to–”
“No.”
Too harsh. This is my brother… I need to relax.
“Sorry,” I say. “I… I still need to pick a school, if you want to help with that, I guess.”
Ferb nods, but I can see on his face that he’s holding something back from me. Like it’s eating at him.
“Okay… what is it?” I ask, kind of frustrated.
“Sorry, bro. I just… I feel like I should tell you…” he starts.
Oh, God. The hits just keep coming.
“... I knew, too. For years. I actually found out a decade ago.”
My eyes widen. I feel my upper eyelid begging to start twitching. I can’t seem to swallow anymore and I’m pressing my fingers against each other so hard they’re turning white.
I can feel a sensation tensing in the back of my neck. Every fiber of my being is telling me to yell at him. But instead… I just start crying again.
“W–why,” I sob. “Why wouldn’t– you…”
I can’t even finish my sentence. I am falling apart at the seams. My eyelid’s twitching intensifies. There’s a whirlwind of emotions inside of me. I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m disappointed. I feel betrayed…
I feel lost.
“I’m sorry, Phineas,” Ferb explains, reaching his hand out and placing it on my leg. I shake it away. I really don’t want him to touch me.
Ferb swallows hard before he continues. “I figured it out, Isabella realized I knew… and she asked me to keep it a secret.”
I scoff. My gaze finally breaks off from him.
“She was so scared, bro. She did not want to ruin your friendship. No matter how many times I told her… she would not— she could not believe me.”
I sniffle again as the tears keep clawing at my eyes. “Heh.”
“...And, and I tried!” he protests. “Like, on her birthday that summer— when you two went to get ice cream. Remember how I could not come?”
I remember the day he’s talking about. Isabella’s birthday ten years ago. I nod apprehensively.
“I lied. I absolutely could have come. I wanted the two of you to get some alone time— I knew that’s all she wanted for her birthday.”
“Oh my god!” I complain, slamming my fists into my bed.
“Ten years?” I yell in disbelief. “T– te… oh…”
I can’t even find the words to articulate the absolute mess in my thoughts. “F–Ferb.”
His eyes widen.
I breathe out, but still feel exhausted. “Please go back downstairs.”
He frowns. Then he nods and slowly makes his way out of our room. The millisecond the door shuts, I break more. More than I thought I could. The funny thing is, sometimes you think you’re at rock bottom and then the bottom just gets deeper. I’m so distraught my brain struggles to understand any signals. Sensations, thoughts, smells. It’s all a jumbled mess.
Out of desperation, with tears streaming from my eyes, I reach for my phone. Out of instinct I video call Candace.
It rings for a moment. A cute, bubbly ringtone.
Then it rings again.
And again, before she finally picks up.
“Hey, Phineas! Are you building some craz— ohmygodwhatswrong?!”
My face doesn’t move an inch. My mouth is just barely open, all I do is breathe.
Candace composes herself. “Phineas, what happened? Are you okay?”
My body finally relents, letting me shake my head ever so slightly. Like it doesn’t want to admit it, but it hurts too bad to fight. More tears.
Now Candace looks like she’s about to cry. “Phineas… I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, though…”
I sniffle, looking away from the phone. “Is–Isabella.”
“What about her?” she asks inquisitively.
I suck in another deep breath. “Ah–” I stutter. “She had a crush on me for years. Like, at least ten years!” the tension in my voice rises.
Candace furrows her brow. “I know, Phineas… but, why are you crying?”
Wow. Another bullet to the chest.
“Of course you did,” I yell, gluing my eyes to the ceiling as tears try to trickle down my cheeks. “So, why didn’t you say anything?” I ask, my voice trembling. “Everybody who seemingly cares about me knew, and just didn’t say anything!”
“Because I just found out today! Nobody thought to tell me! I– I feel like I’ve thrown the last decade away! I could have been with the most incredible, beautiful girl I’ve ever met, and nobody decided to tell me how she felt because ‘guys don’t talk about feelings!’” I mock. I’m yelling now. She knows I’m not yelling at her, but the anger in my voice still shocks her.
I can't even look at my phone. My eyes dart around the room as I start hyperventilating like I forgot what it means to breathe.
“Hey… Phineas,” Candace softens. “Take a breath, please.”
“It’s going to be okay,” the frown on her face says more than she can know. She feels absolutely awful. To be fair, I’ve never felt like this before— I’ve never behaved like this before. Fair enough it’s a shock to her.
“How?” my voice stumbles. Tears still creep down my cheeks despite my aggressive attempts to wipe them away.
“These things have a way of working themselves out, Phineas. Trust me.”
“Please,” she begs.
I’m staring at my sister’s face on my phone. The concern in her expression worries me. It’s like she’s trying to put on a brave face for me but can’t. I don’t know— there’s a pit in my stomach that feels like it gets bigger with every thought I have.
“But... but what do I do now? I… lost her, Candace,” my face shifts into a deeper frown as I speak.
She scoffs. “Says who?”
I’m taken aback. “What do you mean, says who? She’s gone.”
Candace starts to smile. “I’m sorry– I thought you hadn’t picked a school yet. Doesn’t Tri-State State have a great engineering program?”
My eyes narrow with apprehension. “...y– yeah… but—”
“Phineas, let’s not act like Tri-State State didn't immediately become your number one school the moment you found out she was going there. We’re both smarter than that.”
I look away from her visage on my phone, dejected. “But… Candace,” I protest.
“What if she isn’t happy to see me? What if I go there, and she doesn’t feel the same way anymore– now I have to spend four years with her just out of reach? What if she finds someone el–”
“Phineas Flynn,” she interrupts me. “I need you to trust me. This will work itself out,” she says, her voice suddenly more convincing— like I want to believe her. “And listen, if you two don’t get together eventually, don’t you have standing scholarship offers from pretty much every major school in the country?”
I sigh. My eyes dart to the stack of letters on my desk. A stack of acceptance letters and offers from schools I didn’t even apply to asking me if I would like to go. Beside it, my laptop, full of similar emails.
“Choosing a school to chase a girl seems… not smart, Candace,” I protest.
“It has the best engineering program in the COUNTRY!” she replies, getting irritated at me. “I just looked it up on my phone.”
The tightness in my chest lifts a bit. I can finally take a real breath now, which is nice. My eyes are locked on the yellow envelope on top of the stack of letters. Tri-State State…
I’m still hesitating. Candace can see it, too. “Phineas, come on,” she pleads.
For what feels like just a single, little moment, that helpless optimist in me peeks back out.
Do it.
My heart stutters. This can all go so horribly wrong. Is it better to just let it lie now rather than—
Do it.
Candace telling me it’s going to be fine doesn’t mean—
Do it.
Before I know it, I’m up on my feet walking toward my desk.
You can do this.
My laptop reads my face, unlocking itself automatically. As if I’m not in control of my body anymore, my arm reaches out, snatching Tri-State State’s offer letter from the pile.
I open it. Their website is tristatestate.com/admissions
Yeah, I probably could have figured that out myself, I realize.
Without dwelling on it, my hands type the website in. I log in to the portal. Navigate to the offer on their website.
My breathing is hitching, but my hand moves independently. Without holding myself back, I click.
Accept Offer & Enroll