Beep.

Hey I was just calling to see if you were home. I guess not. I should probably call your cell, but now that I remember it; you don't have one. You should really get one though; it'd make talking to you a whole lot easier instead of playing ridiculous games of phone tag. But I guess at times like these it makes it easier to say those things that I wouldn't say to your face. So here it goes, the real reason I called was to say –

Beep.

Hi, got your message and sorry but the end got cut off or something. I know, I know. A cell phone would be wonderful, but we both know I just can't pay for something like that. I'm already working for what seems like every minute of my useless, messed up life and I don't have much time for anything else. So until a miracle happens, phone tag it is. Tag you're it.

Beep.

The end wasn't so important anyhow. I honestly can't even remember what I was going to say. I know you can't really afford one, but maybe if you asked your parents to help pay with college, then you could afford one and quit one of those useless jobs you spend your valuable life on. Plus I would actually get to talk to you more instead of messages, hell maybe your face would be in front of mine instead of buried in a text book. You know, like the old days, the good days. Miracles do exist you know, or at least that's what I'm willing to believe.

Beep.

You know, I'm starting to think you have a memory problem. You never remember what you wanted to say these days. It's funny coming from a guy like you who cherishes every memory he can hold on to. Do you hold onto that lonely darkness that's around you in the night too silly boy? No. Don't tell me to go to them. I'm growing up, I need to hold myself up, and I don't need to bother them. We're having a conversation now. We're talking. There's just moments in between our ends of the chat that go silent. They're for deep breaths and time to think, like spaces between written words, like moments to reflect on what we're both saying. I think it's nice personally.

Beep.

Well I'm starting to think you're getting way to comfortable with speaking before you think. I remember things, I remember everything, I just choose when to think of it. What loneliness? I wake up screaming in the middle of the night, to comforting realistic thoughts of you. I wasn't telling you to do anything; I was giving a friendly suggestion, some advice that goes ignored once again. Just because you've lived another day doesn't mean you got any older. To me you'll always be a child; you'll always have something to learn. And we're not playing chess; we don't need to think through what we're going to say. Just tell me the first thing that pops into your mind like you usually do, let your heart do the talking and your tongue do the walking cause I know you're mind is tired and you're feet have kept you up for far too long. We're not swimming either, you'll always breathe at a safe and normal pace, because if we were swimming I wouldn't hold your head under the surface, I will always help you float. I want to talk face to face, not like this. Clear your schedule and I'll clear mine.

Beep.

You're contradicting yourself, do you want me to say what I think or not? And if I'm speaking from my heart, would it really be what I thought or would it be what I felt? I don't want to be the one comforting your screams; I want to be the one preventing your nightmares. That's what best friends are supposed to do and I don't want to let you down. I'm nineteen and you're twenty, if I'm a child then so are you. Do you go to your parents for help? No, you don't you've made it far on your own. I don't even have a brain and my feet have been lifted off the ground because someone decided to fill all the empty space in my head with helium and I'm dreaming my way up into the clouds with my heart as my steering wheel. And if I did have a brain I wouldn't be in a pool in the first place, you know I hate the water. And if there was any common sense in that brain I wouldn't have taken tomorrow off, so since I don't have a mind meet me at the usual place if I don't get lost finding my way there.

Beep.

I always get my way eventually.

Beep.

Shut it.

*****five stars to find your dreams

****four stars to catch them

***three stars to believe in your dreams

**two stars to help you carry them out

*one star to let them fall on top of you and crush your bones into a pile of Dreamsthatoncewere

Morning takes forever when he's up all night counting the minutes until he gets to see her face again. Schedules like hers seemed impossible to work around, but she'd done it, and they'd get an actual conversation, they'd get some time together to hang out. He didn't know why, but he was more excited to speak to her now more than ever.

(actually he does know why, but if he can't admit it to her, why should he admit it to himself?)

Night drags on for infinity when she's cramming college work down her throat to keep herself from screaming. When her brain turns into pixie dust and carries her heart upward and gravity forces her eyelids to shut; it's torture to fight gravity and such nonsense but it's well worth it when she's doing it for him. She doesn't know why it is, but it just was.

(actually she's pretty sure it's because when she'll get to see him smile; there's just something about the way his nose crinkles that makes her want to melt in a puddle of reflecting images of the stars)

There's something about her that gets him to take the time when he's getting ready. Something that makes him do all the laundry instead of just finding something on the floor and spraying it with Febreze. Why shouldn't he look nice for his best friend who he hasn't seen in like two weeks?

(it's only been eight days if you want to get all technical, but sometimes a second can take a lifetime to get to)

There's something about him that just makes her feel beautiful. Like she's shining, but shining like a fluorescent light bulb; she's not meant to shine like a star. Although the thought does sound nice to her, but it's way beyond what she can imagine. So when she's getting ready and nothing seems to look good in the mirror, she pretends it's been stolen from a funhouse and just walks out the door in pure confidence.

(her knees are shaking a bit if you want to look at the details like that, but sometimes paintings do look better from a distance)

"So it's been awhile."

"Yeah it has been, but you know, I've been busy."

"I wish you weren't so busy all the time, I like hanging out with you."

"Well I like hanging out with you too."

The air is a little hard to breathe in, but she likes the coffee scent that fills it. And she loves the soothing music, and the little kids in the corner trying to giggle as quietly as humanly possible, and the way he sips his coffee slowly while telling her if she continues to drink so much of the "caffeinated shit" she'll never grow another inch. She likes the way he laughs at his own stupid jokes, really she just likes to hear him laugh.

"So how's school?"

"Boring."

"How's work?"

"Hard."

"How's life?"

"I'm not even sure if I'm living."

"That bad?"

"At the moment I'd say that good."

He liked the natural blush that lay permanently on her cheeks. He enjoyed their conversation no matter how simple it seemed to be to others. Sometimes it's nice to say more than you want to in just one word and know the other person can speak the same language. The language of understanding? The language of friendship? The language of I'mabouttorunoutofoxygenbutIwantyoutoknowwhatI'mthinking? The language of Iwantthistobesomuchmorethanwhat'sgoingonrightnowbutIjustcan'tfindtherightwordstosay? He liked this new tongue that felt so native to him.

"That's not how the song goes!"

"Then how does it go?"

"I don't remember, but that's not how it goes."

"What good is a song that won't be remembered?"

"What good is a song that will be remembered?"

"What good is a boy who doesn't know that women are always right?"

"What good is a girl that thinks she's always right and already grown up?"

"Shut it."

She smiled as he argued with her over issues that meant nothing to the rest of the world. She smiled as they left the small cozy café, she smiled at the breeze that met them by the door and the colors that painted the whole city. She even smiled as he hesitantly wrapped his arm around her shoulders when she shivered. She liked this spot, the safety and warmth of it all. She was questionable about the smell though, it wasn't the usual Febreze scent she found him smelling like when she'd used to show up at his house in the middle of whenever to cry on his vacant shoulder. Or at least he said it was vacant, but truth be told, he was always busy. But he would never tell her that because he loved the way she trusted him to see her with makeup smeared across her face and shaking hands that needed to be held. She was beautiful even in the middle of a disaster.

They both hated to see the sun go down so soon. They loved the colors, but knew it meant their day was over and life went back to a simple wish of someone saying "Tag you're it" over a long message on their answering machines tomorrow. And when that's all you have to look forward to, it's in those few minutes where the clouds are pink that you're praying for the whole world to slow down so you can trail behind. It's in those few minutes where you find what you wanted to say and just the right way of saying it.

"Hey you know what?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you cleared your schedule today."

"I'm glad we got to hang out."

"I'm glad I got to kiss you for the first time today."

…

"Did you really just try to use a crappy pick up line on me?"

"I can't believe it actually worked."

"Me neither."

And just like that his lips were against hers. An innocent first kiss, but somehow filled with unnamable emotions held in for several years. His arms pulling her closer and her arms around his neck. It was all so perfect.

And just like that a sound like squeaky shoes in a bowling alley, of sliding in a leather seat, and a smell like coffee and nasty ick soiled it all. Well to a point.

"Did you just fart?"

"Noooo."

"God, you're such a dude."

"It's your fault for making me go drink bad coffee."

"It was good coffee. Stop smiling."

"You're smiling too."

"Because I can't believe you just ruined that by letting one rip."

"Well, I bet you've never had your first kiss with a guy like that."

"Is that your version of romance?"

"No, but I think I might add it."

"You're horrible."

"You love it."

"Shut it."

She slapped him playfully and stared at him as people passed and looked at them up on the steps of her house. She knew that if they called to them neither would hear, because neither of them wanted to came down from their spot it the clouds with feet on the ground. He held her close again and she heard his heart beat and she realized that she'd been swimming for so long and that he was helping her stay above the water the whole time. She held onto him too and he breathed in the scent of her and realized that she smelt like the open arms that would listen to anything he needed or wanted to say.

"So, you clear your schedule tomorrow and I clear mine?"

"Well…"

"Please?"

"Fine."

"Yes!"

"Geek."

"Girl in love with a geek."

"Maybe I just won't clear my schedule."

"What come on!"

"Just kidding, phone tag's a game for children anyways."

"You're still a child."

"Again, shut it."

five hearts to find you

four hearts to pick you up

three hearts to guide you in the right direction

two hearts to always be there for you

one heart to make you trip and fall

(for them)