Skipper Jackson is your regular small town girl: Aggressive, good with a gun, and stunningly beautiful. She loves Austin, Texas and everything about it. She loves the night sky, the music, the dusty back roads, the people...but little does she know...
"My letter. The new one." I reached into my bag, pulling out the envelope."Ok, so...Wait..." He opened it. "This is empty."
"That's because, it's not for you. It's for me." I explained.
"I...I don't understnad. I don't like not understanding things, help me understand." I sighed.
"Farkle...if you feel the need to impress me...doesn't that mean that I've some how made you feel like you're not good enough for me?" I asked. He furrowed his eyebrows.
"Skipper-"
"It's ok. Write the letter, and then I'll get back to you."
"Wait here." He walked over to his locket, opening it, taking something out, and putting it in the envalope. He sealed it and handed it back to me.
"Ok...I'm scared now."
"Just open it." I ripped the red paper and pulled out a photograph.
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"Farkle...where did this come from?" I asked.
"Riley took it. A long time ago. She sent it to me, and I've kept it in my locker ever since." He came around behind me. "Do you see the way I'm looking at you? I'm looking at you like that, because even then, I realized how amazing you are. Wanting to impress you doesn't mean that you've done something wrong. It means that you deserve the best, so you make me want to be the best. You inspire me." Tears welled up in my eyes.
"What did I do to deserve you, Farkle?"
"I could ask you the same question." I wrapped my arms around his waist, hugging him. He hugged me back, burying his face in my hair. "So, are you available right about now?" I pulled away.
"Not just yet. There's one more person I need to talk to."
~~~
When I got home, Farkle waited downstairs while I went upstairs and knocked on the door.
"Come in." I opened the door, closing it behind me as I walked into Lucas's bedroom. He was working on his homework. "Hey, Skipper. What's up?" He asked, not looking up at me.
"Mr. Matthews has us set on the path to forgiveness. You are my final stop." He did look up now, sitting back in his chair.
"What did I do?" He asked. I walked over, sitting on his bed.
"I don't think you did anything, but...you do. And I know you, and I know that even if you don't let on, you're gonna keep beating yourself up about it when you think no one notices, so I wanted to give you some peace of mind." He didn't respond, urging me to continue. "I wasn't asleep on the train...the one back home from Texas. I heard what you said to Farkle...the promise you asked him to keep."
"Ah." He realized it now. "I see."
"Lucas, you have been my best friend since we were kids, and I've realized that you are not going to be there all the time to notice my problems...that's ok. So, to cut this little speech short...I forgive you for not being able to pay attention...this last time, and every other time to come...so next time...and I'm sure there will be a next time, for both of us...I want you to rembmer this moment and know that I forgive you."
"Thank you, Skip." I nodded, walking over and opening the door.
"For the record?" I paused. "Of all the people you could have ended up with...I'm glad it was Farkle." I smiled.
"Yeah...Yeah, me too." I left, going back down stairs and meeting Farkle in the living room.
"So...what did you forgive him for?" I shook my head.
"Nothing much. Just...helping out a friend, I guess. So...what do you want to do? Besides go and see a movie."
"Um...I don't know. Just hang out around here I guess." I grabbed his hand, leading him downstairs to the basement. The basement was fairly large, with an old leather couch, a garage-sale Lazy boy and a TV. I went upstairs and flipped the sign on the door from open to closed. "What does the sign mean?"
"Open means it's free for use, and close means the person currently occupying it...wants to be alone." He raised his eyebrows, nodding.
"Ok. Ok, I see." I flopped down on the couch, and he sat beside me.
"Hey Farkle?" I asked, after a few moments of awkward silence.
"Hmm?"
"I don't really want to watch TV." I glanced at him.
"What do you want to do then?" I put my hand on his face, turning it towards me. I leaned forward and kissed his nose. Then, I kissed his forehead. Then his cheeks, then under his jaw, until finally I pressed my mouth against his. He kissed me back, one of his hands resting on my knee. I moved on hand to the back of his head, only to have him wince and laugh into my mouth. I pulled away.
"What was that?" I asked. He shook his head.
"Nothing." I touched his head again, and he winced.
"What the heck, Farkle? Are you hurt, or..." I tried to move his hair to get a good look, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
"No. I'm extremely ticklish right there." I bit my lip to keep from laughing. "Don't laugh!"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. It's just, of all the places to be ticklish, that is by far one of the weirdest places."
"I know. I also know that yours is right...there." He pressed his fingers against my knee, causing me to jump.
"Farkle!" I pushed his hand away.
"Who's laughing now?" I smacked his arm. "Ow." he laughed.
"You're an idiot, Farkle Minkus."
"Actually, studies prove just the opposite." I rolled my eyes.
"Shut up."
"Never. I never want to stop talking to you." I smiled.
"You've got to want to stop talking to me sometime." I told him.
"Nope. Not a chance."
"Allow me to test that theory?"
"Do you have a steady Hypothesis?" I nodded, scooting closer to him with my leg folded in front of me, and kissing him. He put his hands on my face, tucking my hair behind my ears and kissing me back. I put one hand on his wrist while placing the other on his leg just above his knee. I pulled away, smiling at him. "I stand corrected."
