Cheater (a Scandy fanfic)

Words As Weapons

So, Andy had done it. He scrolled through the contacts on his phone until he found Scout's name, then texted her, saying, I want to see you again.

He felt it was a slightly bold move, but he didn't care. He'd already sent the message, and he was going to follow through with his original plan, no matter what.

Well, unless something interrupted it or messed it up or whatever.

He waited for the text. In that time, he got a shower (a much-needed one), ate a sandwich, played a few songs on his guitar, messed around with his old record player, took down some of the posters on his wall and replaced them with new ones, and just when he was so bored he was about to play football with himself outside, his phone vibrated, and he picked it up, looking at it right away.

It was a message.

A message from his mother.

He groaned, thinking it was going to be Scout. He would just have to wait a little longer still.

So he went to go play football by himself outside, and he scored a few touchdowns (on one of his sides), the neighbors looking at him like he was insanity as they came outside to grab their mail or get in the car. Andy rolled his eyes and tossed the football over the roof so it would land in the backyard, and was about to walk inside, but strangely he felt like the ball hadn't even left his hand. Well, it did leave his hand; he looked down and it wasn't there anymore, but he didn't remember it going over the roof.

He looked around him, on the ground, again in his hands or in his possession, but it still wasn't there.

All of the sudden, he jumped as a result of someone's voice behind him, startling him.

"Are you playing real football, flag football, or tag football? I'll join you if you want me to."

Andy turned around to look at Scout, waving the football around in her hand.

She tossed it to him, and he caught it absentmindedly, still staring at her. "Andy, there is no excuse for what I did. But --"

"Scout."

"-- I can say that --"

"Scout." The more Andy looked at her, the more he just wanted to kiss her again and forget about it, and be... a normal couple. Well, they would never be normal, but like nothing ever happened.

"-- I'm sorry." On the word 'sorry,' Scout's voice broke, and there were tears in her eyes and all the sudden, the mood shifted. Scout started to cry, then sob, and then Andy started to cry too, a little more subtly.

And then he didn't care anymore.

He was crying and yelling at her, and she was sobbing and in the grass, on her knees, pleading for forgiveness and their relationship back.

Andy stood there, staring down at her. Slowly, he kneeled down and sniffed, taking her hand.

Scout looked up at him, blinking tears out of her eyes, with a few scattered sniffs. "Andy?" she whispered. "I --"

"I love you, too," he mumbled.

She crashed into his arms, and Andy kissed her like he hadn't in so long.

It was so great, so wonderful, so romantic he was in heaven...

Until it was all just a dream.

*

The next morning, Andy was awoken by a sudden jolt, and he groaned and covered himself with his sheets again once he realized it was his mother shaking him.

"Wake up, Andy, it's almost eleven o'clock! Don't you have soundcheck this morning?"

"Forget it. I don't want to live anymore," Andy mumbled from under his sheets. "I just want to sleep forever."

Andy felt his mother sit on the bed beside him and pull back the sheets a little, just enough so that she could see his face. She ran her fingers through his hair comfortingly and held him close by her.

"And what makes you say that? Do you realize how much you have to live for, sweetheart?"

Andy stayed silent as his mother stroked his hair, just thinking for a minute.

"Mom? Do you think I'll go to heaven?"

Amy paused, then met eyes with her son. "Yes, I do."

"Will Scout be there?"

"Yes, I would believe so."

Andy sighed. "This isn't a life worth living without her."

"Oh, sweetheart, don't say that! Listen, Andrew.... I know how much you still love her. I'm sure her heart aches as much as yours does, and I can't imagine how sorry she must be and how much she misses you. Why don't you try to call or text her, she'd probably answer."

"I already tried, Mom. She didn't answer."