I Can't (Pinescone Ouran Highschool Host Club AU)

EDITED Chapter 17

WEDNESDAY

Dipper's P.O.V.

I read the plan to forgive Wirt once more, then stuffed it in my pants pocket as the bell for lunch emitted into the school grounds.

Anxiety tried to come into my brain and tell me everything that was going to go wrong, but I just pushed back with reading the list in my mind:

Step one, approach Wirt.

Then say how I was sorry about yesterday and Friday. I forgive you, Wirt.

I hope we can still be friends.

It was stupid to have written such memorable words down but I liked it to be on paper. It just made more senses to me, and it calmed me down. All plans I had would later go into a box I had called "CLEAR."

And boy did I have a lot of them. Clears I didn't even use, like to tell Bill how I wanted to break up, clears I regretted, and clears I was so happy to have been there.

And it did help the huge ball of distrust and stress that I am.

Walking into the Host Club, I first spotted him. (Like I always did.) There he was, time to do this.

The beautiful boy was sitting one of the huge couches, without anything to do. Just waiting for something, or someone, or maybe just to get out of here. Probably the last one.

I had to approach him before someone else, namely Beatrice, did.

"Wirt." I had said, tapping on his shoulder to make him turn around. He quickly grew the same nervous face he wore yesterday when he was the one apologizing. But nonetheless, he spoke.

"Yeah? Look Dipper I'm-" he began, but I stopped him.

"No, I'm sorry." I said, going about my plan. "About yesterday. And I totally forgive you, no matter how unconvincing that sounded yesterday. I want to still hangout and be friends, so can we forget what happened Friday?"

"Yeah. I'd be happy to." He said, his cheeks red and his mouth in a smiling form. "Were obviously still friends, Dipper."

I nervously chuckled. "Sorry."

"It's totally chill."

"Quit talking like Dave." I muttered, remembering my friend who sat with me in keyboarding class, (and yes, the same person from the group chat.)

"What?" He asked, but got interrupted by Mabel calling him.

***

No customers for me today, as usual, so I just watched as Wirt and Beatrice talked for the lunch period. I knew more facts lay out every day that they would get together soon, but for some reason, that didn't bug me today. What Mabel said stuck with me at least for today: that I should focus on the real stuff instead of the chances.

At least I still could admire from afar, without anyone seeing me. And if they did, I'd make up some believable excuse.

***
Wirt's P.O.V.

"You know, Wirt," Beatrice said, putting down her tea, "you haven't gave me your phone number."

"Hmm?" I asked, "why would you want that?"

"To text you, idiot." She laughed.

Great. Honestly, I didn't want anything to do with her, I can't take any more push and pull between her and Dipper. But, I'm going to have to do everything she says. Phone numbers? Sure, why not go that extra mile, Beatrice.

"Here, hand me your phone," I said, plastering a fake smile.

As she handed me her phone, I thought about giving her a fake number, or just ignoring her, but that would make more problems. So I just went along and typed it in, and gave it back to her. "Here."

"Cool!" She said, and typed on her phone, probably to make my contact name "Wirt" before putting her phone back in her backpack.

And then we continued a talk I really didn't want to be included in.

***

As soon as I got home, I got a buzz from my phone. And I mean as soon as I entered my house, and if that isn't creepy I don't know what is.

It was a text from a number I didn't know reading, "hey Wirt, it's B. I have something to tell you."

B? I asked myself, then sighed: Beatrice.

I did the polite thing and answered even though that was the last thing I wanted to do.

Wirt: What's up?

Beatrice: It's kind of an awkward thing.

Wirt: go for it, I'm sure it can't be that bad.

Beatrice: well... I um... would you like to go out somewhere for lunch tomorrow instead of eating at school?

I stopped texting. I left her on read as I figured out just be being polite I was burying myself into more and more sorrow and trouble everyday. It left the possibility with Dipper smaller and smaller, even though it already was. And it left me in anxiety, and buried deep in a thousand love-struck depressing poems.

But I continued. My fingers typed politeness I would want to hold back, but I couldn't.

Wirt: yeah, sure.

I pressed that enter button without even thinking. I just told myself being polite was bad but look at that I did it again.

Read.

No going back now. Just great.