Chapter 1

I hurriedly cross the street and walk into Tullman's, breathing in the familiar heavy scent of the bar and it's habituals.

"Hey Mason." I greet my fellow bartender as I put my jacket on the rack and hop the counter, grabbing an apron from its hook.

"Nick, you know Todd doesn't like it when you get your feet all over the counters."

"He'll never have to know." I wink. "So how was your weekend? I hope it was good, because you totally left me hanging Friday night."

He sorta chuckles as he takes a bar rag and cleans the one or two scuff marks I managed to put onto the countertops. "Yeah, sorry. I took the night off for my anniversary with Jillian and," He pauses "I think I'm gonna propose."

I put down the cup I was examining, surprised. "Really? I hadn't thought you guys were together that long."

"Two years was friday." He says, offering a content smile.

"Wow, that's great. I hope it goes well." I try to sound happy for him, but deep down I'd hoped that maybe he could've given me a shot.

And not the kind we make.

He goes back to filling the ice buckets and I try not to sulk in my disappointment. I pull back my hair into a tight ponytail, making sure to restain all the loose black curls I can before the six o'clock rush. As people begin to pour in, Mason and I start bustling about the bar making food and serving drinks, yet I can't help stealing a glance at him every now and again, admiring the way he brushes his hair away from his face as he chuckles at a joke one of the regulars told him, or how his muscles flex and ripple as he extravagantly mixes the drinks.

Turning back to my customers I notice the cutest couple come in and take a seat at one of the tables near the center of the room. The man is adorably awkward, holding doors open for her and tripping over himself to take her coat. He has brown hair swept out of his face and is wearing a dark sweater over a plaid button up. Classic nerd gear. The woman, however, is beautiful in a very confident way, she has intense brown eyes and straightened black hair that she keeps down and her cocoa skin is flawless, matching her fashion sense. I try not to take too much interest in them, but as I glance back up she smiles at him warmly as he pulls her chair out, but not in a way I would expect.

As I pour this guy Maurice his favorite drink and ignore his come ons, the guy comes over looking like he wants something. I hand Maurice his glass and push Mason out of the way, "Geez Nikki! You could've just asked." He says defensively.

I stealthily stick my tongue out at him before turning around and addressing Mr. Slacks.

"What can I get you? Beer? Nah, you look more like a whiskey on the rocks type of guy. And a shirley temple for the lady?"

He chuckles and his mouth dimples. "Actually, can I have two of your finest beers."

I give him a sideways glance. "Well then, Slacks 1 - me 0."

"Oh! and maybe two orders of nachos?"

"Sure thing, but you know …"

"What?" He asks.

"Nachos aren't really the best way to impress your date. You should try shots." I grin at him.

He laughs again, a real laugh this time, and I find myself smiling in response. "So I'm supposed to impress her with my alcohol consumption?"

"You did come to a bar." I tease. "Girl's gotta make a living."

He smiles and shakes his head, taking both beers into his hands. "And besides, she's not my date. I mean, you know … we're just friends."

"Uh huh." I say skeptically. "And what's your friend's name?"

"Iris." Just the way he says it proves he wants something more outta their relationship.

"Look slacks -"

"Barry. My name's Barry Allen."

"Look Barry," I say as I'm getting his nachos ready. "You and I both know you'd like to be more than 'Just Friends' with this Iris, and if you want the best result you're gonna have to take a leap of faith and just go for it. Ask her out on a real date, at a classy restaurant with musicians and fondue, so that it's clear. And then there you go. Here, I've got these for you."

"Thank you." He replies as I exit the bar with his nachos in hand. "But it isn't that simple."

"How so? You're pretty cute, kid. And you've got that awkward charm in your favor. Plus fondue makes everything simple."

He laughs again and then looks absolutely defeated. "I don't know … we, I mean, we've been friends since we were kids and it would just be - I mean, it's complicated."

I stop us a few feet from his table and Iris is on her phone so she doesn't notice. "Look Barry, I understand where you're at, but if you don't take your chances now she's gonna slip away, no matter how hard you try to hold on. Trust me, I know." I look over at Mason and he follows my gaze.

"Ah. I see."

"He's planning on proposing to this girl Jillian, and I have to be happy for him. All because I didn't wanna risk anything before I was ready."

"Man, that must be tough."

"Yeah. So don't let it be you. And by the way, when you do ask her out, maybe you can come back and tell me how it went. You know, we in the friendzone gotta stick together." I wink at him as we continue to his table.

He laughs. "Ok, I will."

"I'm Nicholle by the way, but my friends call me Nikki. Here you go, hope you enjoy your meal." I smile at them both and then retreat back to the bar.

"What was that all about?" Mason asks as I return.

"Just helping my brothers and sisters in the friend zone."

He scoffs. "Yeah right, like anyone's ever friendzoned you."

"The irony in that statement is laughable." I whisper to myself as I start cleaning some glasses.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." I sigh defeatedly. If only you had heard me.

He hesitates, almost like he wants to ask me about it, but then says, "Alright."

The rest of the night is pretty uneventful, the normal pick-up lines from drunk men and a few women, watch a guy pour his drink on a girl and end up taking her home, some twenty-something ended up drinking too much with her friends and vomited all over the bathroom stall … The usual. Barry and Iris look like they have a good time, but only stay till about eleven and catch a cab like responsible drinkers. I hope he had the guts to talk to her, but hey, it's his life. The bar closes at two and as the last drunk stumbles out the door singing hymns Mason and I are left alone to clean up.

"Look," Mason says as I put away the last glass. "thanks for covering for me Friday, I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, no problem. It's what I do." I try to smile at him convincingly.

"No, really," He insists. "You're awesome, ok? But I know something's up, so don't even try to deny it. Spill." He gestures at me to commence my explanation.

I scoff. "It's not a big deal, and besides, it probably wouldn't interest you anyway. It's girl stuff."

"So … it's a guy?" He asks. "Do I need to have a talk with someone? Toss 'im around a little 'till he knows how to treat you right?" He grins and softly boxes my arm. I smile a bit ruefully and he takes that as a cue to continue. "Nick, we've been friends for years, come on, you can tell me."

He pulls me into his chest in one of those tight hugs that I love and my heart breaks even more. "I'd do anything for you, you're like a sister to me."

I only allow myself to hold him for a moment, forcing back tears, and then I whisper softly into his shirt, "I love you." and swiftly push myself away from him.

We both just stand there in shock for a moment and I realize I can't even just leave because he's blocking the bar's exit. I guess I could hop the counter but -

"What?" He asks just as softly. "What did you say?"

I try not to look at him. "I said I love you, you big jerk. I've loved you since forever." He still just looks at me without knowing what to say so I gently push past him and grab my jacket, putting it on as I head towards the door.

"Nick, wait!" He rushes over and grabs my wrist before I can make it outside. "Nick, I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say, ok? Don't be mad. I just … don't know what to say." I look into his eyes searching for some sign that I've been wrong all this time and that he does love me the way I love him.

"Please." He says. "Just wait."

He's still holding my wrist firmly, almost as if he thinks that if he lets me go I might never come back. I give him a sad smile. "Mason, I've been waiting for you for a very long time." The tears come back into my eyes, slowly making their way down my cheeks and I choke out a laugh that I muffle with my hand. I shake my head, witnessing the little drops splatter on the polished wood floor, before looking back up at him. "Unless you can tell me that you love me exactly like I love you …"

His blue eyes plead with me. "Nikki please don't do this. I do care about you, but Jillian-"

I shut my eyes. "I have to go."

"Nick, please." He begs.

"I have to go Mason." I sniff, willing myself to not sob. "Just let me go."

He slowly releases my hand and I push myself out the door, hurrying out into the dark to my car. I slide into the driver's seat and jam my key into the ignition, the car roaring to life. I go to put the car into drive but as I do the floodgates open, making me unable to see past the watery haze of my tears. I put it back into park and rest my head against the steering wheel, silently releasing all my frustrations and sorrow. I try to calm down so I can get home and wallow in my own bed, and once I can see a sufficient amount I wipe my face and start my drive home.

My apartment isn't very far from the bar and as I turn onto our street I notice a light on in our livingroom window. Harley must be up. I park my little Chevy four door in the parking lot and regain my composure before heading upstairs. I pull out my Hello Kitty key and unlock the door, entering the warmth our living room to see Harley's criminal justice books scattered about the place and said brunette laying upside down on our sofa eating ice cream with my cat delicately perched on her stomach. Her green eyes shoot up to me in surprise and Jojo's mitch matched ones lazily drift towards me in annoyance.

"I didn't do anything!" she yells and I giggle a little at the fact that that was her first response, but as she looks at me further she becomes worried. "Hey, have you been crying?"

I thought I was ok enough to respond, but when I open my mouth I have nothing to say so I just nod, trying to keep from looking like a gigantic baby. I shuffle my weight trying to build the confidence to move, but instead I lean against the door and slide down to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest in an attempt to keep myself together. I put my head down to try and shield my face from Harley as another wave of sobs escapes me.

"Bro, are you ok?" I hear her ask and I feel awful for making her worry about me. God, this is so embarrassing! I hear her roll from the couch and say something about feeling abnormal as she makes her way over to me and kneel down. "What happened? Did you get mugged?! Ohmigosh, did you trip up the stairs? Man! That always happens to me! Or did you find out that Jojo was downloading porn off of the internet again? I swear, we need to watch that cat!" She pauses. "Are you on your period?"

I blubber another small laugh and try to calm down enough that my mouth will work.

"Com'on Nikki! You know I suck at girl stuff!" I lift my head up to look into her face and I see the concern there in the corners of her mouth and the way her eyebrows knit together.

"Are you ok?" She asks again.

I feel my chin quiver and I shake my head no.

"Did you trip?"

No.

"... Did Joseph download porn?"

Again no.

"Period?"

No.

"Dang it Nicholle! I feel like I'm talking to Lassie!" She puts her hands on mine, securing them in a tight grasp. I give a shaky sigh, sniff and clear my throat.

"I … told him."

"Lassie?" She asks confused. "Wait, Mason? Oh man, what did he say? Well, I guess whatever he said wasn't all too taco-tastic," She scoots next to me on the door. "Oh, Nick. I'm so sorry." She puts her arm around me and pulls me to her. "Do you need me to beat him up?" A small laugh escapes my lips and I lean my head on her shoulder, happy that she cares so much.

"No, don't beat him up." I sigh again. "It's not his fault, he was really nice about it actually. he was just … surprised I guess. And I didn't really tell him at a good time 'cause," I sniff, "he was thinking about proposing to his girlfriend. I should've just … moved on and not made this a whole big mess." I gesture broadly to communicate my point. "This whole thing is just a big pile of suck."

"Ya' want some?" She offers me her ice-cream carton.

"Nah, I'm okay."

"You sure? 'Cause I was totally going to give it to you anyway. I thought you were a stalker or a hobo breaking into the house." I shift off of her so we could look at one another.

"With a key?"

"Hey! You never know! Things are gettin' scary these days and hobos are getting classy!"

"You have an unhealthy obsession with hobos," I state teasingly, then look at the offered ice cream. I accept it and scoop a big spoonful of the stuff, sticking it all in my mouth.

"Better?" she offered.

"I don't know. What kind is this?"

"Half- baked."

"How do you bake ice cream?" I ask, taking another spoonful.

"Ha, I don't know man. Do you like it?"

"Meh, I don't care anymore." I actually do like it, but I'm just in that 'I hate everything, stuff is the worst' mood. "Thanks for the ice cream."

"No problem chica, it'll all work out, I promise."

"Thanks" I say, awkwardly standing up. "I'm gonna go to bed so I can make it to class tomorrow." I hand her back the carton and pick up Jojo from the couch and he purrs as I scratch his ears, taking him to my room. I open my door and close it, putting Jojo down on my dresser as I kick off my shoes and pants, grabbing a big T-shirt to replace the one I'm wearing. It smells like the bar and Mason's cologne. I toss my things in the hampers and then plop myself on my bed and burrow under the covers. Joseph meows and jumps onto my side, then curls up under my chin, putting a paw on my mouth. I kiss it and he gently sponges me once and then pulls his hand back under him closing his eyes contentedly. I follow his lead, soon drifting off into sleep.

Waking up I notice first the cat partially suffocating me, and then, after removing him from my face, look at my clock. 9:48 a.m. FJPIGJEDSOUHhdkjsvdiuqwpdokug! My first class starts at 10! I tumble out of my bed and attack my dresser tossing on the first acceptable thing I see. I race into the bathroom as quietly as possible and brush my teeth like there's no tomorrow. There's absolutely no time for my hair so I just let it do it's thing, swiping the soft curls out of my face as I slide into the kitchen and grab a bagel, my shoes and my keys before Harley scares the crap outta me from the living room floor.

"Late for class?" She asks, laying all over her textbooks.

"Uh huh." I mumble around the bagel in my mouth and limp awkwardly out the door still tying a shoe.

I drive across town to the campus I attend during the week and rush into my first class. I arrive exactly 18 minutes late and try to stealth myself into the seminar but as I descend the stairs of the lab to join our moderately sized biotechnology class, Mr. Hunt, my absolute favorite professor ever, calls out to me from his whiteboard.

"Miss Carstairs," I freeze. "Would you like to tell the class why you're late?"

"I … Well, Um … I-I woke up late. I'm sorry professor." I can feel my cheeks getting hot and I pray that that's all he wants as the eyes of my fellow classmates focus on me, but his gaze refuses to let me get to my seat.

"You woke up late?"

I nod.

"Miss Carstairs, as I'm sure you're well aware, my time is very precious to me and therefore one can assume that since I'm spending it instructing 20 somethings for four hours every tuesday, I place a level of importance upon this class. Do you agree?"

"Yes Sir."

"Then I expect you, and everyone else in this room, to place the same level of importance on it and be here on time. I don't care for interruptions to my class, Miss Carstairs, and therefore if you cannot bring yourself to leave the warmth of your bedroom in time, do not bother showing up."

"Yes Sir, I understand."

I sit down next to my lab partner as Mr. Hunt goes back to explaining how to isolate genomes to sample DNA.

After class ends at 2 I grab lunch and find myself in a little cyber cafe having a cup of coffee while working on some papers for my classes. I spend the next 3 ish hours improving these and stalling until the very last possible minute before I begrudgingly grab my keys and head over to Tullman's for my shift.

It's only about five, but the sun has already almost disappeared behind the horizon making the January air even colder. I stand across the street from the bar, watching my breath fog in the air, and seriously debating whether or not I really have to go in there. I can see Mason working the bar from here and my heart swells with anxiety and other, less coherent, emotions.

You had the guts to confront him once, you can do it again. I try to assure myself. I take a deep breath, shove my hands into my pockets and cross the street to my certain doom.

As I enter, the smell of the bar envelopes me once more, though somehow it's thicker and more tense. I avoid eye contact with everyone as I hang up my coat and walk around to join him behind the bar, and at first he doesn't approach me, relieving some of my fear, but as the moments grow, our silence says more than anything.

I take a glance at him and notice him doing the same. "Hi." I say.

"Hi." he replies and offers me a meek smile. "Are … are we good?"

"Yeah, totally."

"Cool." He seems relieved. "Cause I wouldn't wanna lose an awesome friend like you over something like this."

I raise my eyebrows as I hand a man his drink. "Something like this? Can you explain?"

"Well I just think that we shouldn't make this a big deal is all. It's nothing … relevant right now, so we shouldn't dwell on it. We've been friends for a long time and I wouldn't want to ruin that."

I stop what I'm doing to look at him straight on. "You wouldn't want to ruin our friendship with something as irrelevant as my feelings? Is that really what you just said to me?"

"No! not at all! I just think that-"

"We'd be better off never speaking of it again?"

"Well … yeah. I've been thinking about it and I think bringing it up a lot, or even just once more could be really bad."

"Bad for you, is what I really think you mean," I come closer to him so I can talk without the patrons overhearing us, "because for me, I thought that when I told you that stuff that you were my friend who would respect my feelings even if you didn't return them. I want to talk about it Mason, because at least then we know where we stand."

He throws his bar rag over his shoulder in frustration. "You want to talk? Fine. I don't like you Nick. I never have, and now that I have Jillian, I never will. You're everything I don't want in a girlfriend and … you're too late to change my mind, Ok? How's that for talking?"

Waves of hurt wash over me. "Yeah. That was pretty good." I turn back to the bar, grab a shot glass and pour some rum into it. "At least I know where we stand." I toss my head back as I swallow the stuff. Man, I've always hated the taste of alcohol. I throw some change into the tip jar to pay for my shot and I proceed to ignore Mason for the rest of the night.