Fix: A Two-Part Story

Fall, age 18

The chaos of summer faded into fall before Gage even realized. Between looking at apartments, moving into the apartment and actually settling into the apartment they seemed to be in constant motion. Everyone else more so than Gage, compared to them his stuff seemed like busy work. They became immersed in getting everything ready for university. While he refamiliarized himself in the ways of the city and spent more time alone. Not that he entirely hated it.

He actually needed it.

After the campout he had a hard time finding anything that took his mind off of Josephine. The move turned out to be a godsend, more than he expected it to be. He thought she consumed his thoughts before, no, this was an entirely new level. It bordered on obsessive. The simple kissing they agreed to turned into a hot and heavy session before they knew it. Gage thought it was just the desperation of not doing anything in so long, but it was entirely her. The chemistry between them was stronger than Gage expected. Finding the nerve to stop that night and not continue on took every ounce of decency he could gather.

Now his imagination had a real comparison to play around with. When he thought holding her or seeing her in a bathing suit would be the crux of his imagination, he was a fucking idiot. Nothing topped this. From the weight of her body against his as she straddled his hips to the way her teeth sank into his lower lip. It made the dreams torturous and the tension between them thick when they were alone. He knew she felt it too. Yet neither one acted on it.

He didn't even have the balls to tell Gerry about what happened that night all to save himself from the endless jeering he'd get for not taking the initiative and ending his own suffering. But at this point it was just as much on Josephine to do something about it if she felt the same way. Their time spent together turned into some twisted version of chicken, waiting for the other one to break and say they couldn't take it anymore.

Until it all came to a head midway through the semester.

The clock in the living room ticked. Pencils scratched against paper at four different paces. The glossy flick of textbook pages sounded louder than necessary. Incoherent grumbles bounced around the room unacknowledged. The culmination of the sounds were the only noise in the apartment for the last three hours.

Gage, not having course work to complete, passed the time sketching at the table, a front row seat to his friends despair.

Gerry looked motionless as he hovered over his book with his elbow on the table. Hands gripped firmly at his roots. Gage hadn't seen his page turn in the last half hour. It was equally likely that he was asleep.

Tabitha's knee bounced under the table consistently. Writing notecard after notecard, she gained a considerable stack of several colors each devoted to different things. Gage had yet to crack the code.

Josephine gnawed on either her lip or the clip of her pen as she read a novel for her literature class. Her mouth may or may not have been the subject of focus on Gage's current journal page.

This night was shaping up to be like all the others over the last few weeks.

"Fuck this."

Gerry spat, tossing his pencil onto the table. His voice startled everyone as he disrupted the silence.

"Jesus, Gerry," Tabitha gasped. Her hand gripped at her shirt. "Don't do that. What's wrong?"

"This," he slapped at the textbook, "is what's wrong. I've just been staring at the same four words and have accomplished nothing. My brain is fried and not in the way that I like it." Gerry's head fell to the table with a thud. Tabitha leaned over and squeezed his shoulder.

"It's time for a breather," Josephine suggested as she used her pen as a bookmark. "We've been at this for weeks without a break."

"A little bit of fun to switch things up," Gage continued, dropping the hint. He closed his journal and leaned forward on the table.