"Um."
That was the first word that slipped out of Bloos mouth as he stared at Goo and Mac swaying closely– much too closely– together. Bloo blinked at Goos ballroom dress: a bright, blue color, with silver silk draped in crafty designs upon the material. It fluffed out a bit at the bottom and spun– spun!– as Mac– Mac– twirled her around in his arms. The jewels on Goos wrist and neck glittered brightly beneath the...chandelier?
For a moment, Bloo thought he was dreaming. Of course, he had to be, hadn't he? Somehow, along the way to getting a nighttime snack in the kitchen, he had dreamt up shadows being held back by only one light: a chandelier, with his best friend and a girl dancing...romantically beneath it.
Yeah, yeah, that's it. Bloo nodded, still staring at the sight before him, wondering why it didn't hurry up and vanish yet. Really– Sure, Mac and Goo had been kinda... pinkie-raised supiscious these days, with Goo giggling at every corny joke Mac pulled and Mac blushing so much whenever he even glanced at Goo...but suddenly having the urge to dance before the staircase, before the front door...like they were in love? Those two? No, no, he, Blooregard Q. Kazoo had to be dreaming.
Yet it was Mac who made him pause that train of thought.
Macs get-up was something Bloo wouldn't imagine him wearing in all the dreams in the world: He was dressed in a sleek, black tuxedo and suave-looking hat (much too cool for him, Bloo kept thinking intently, much too cool for a guy like Mac– he even has it tipped, like those gents in black-and-white movies. Holy moly holy moly– the moles is a moly, holy moly!). Macs posture too; it was totally out the blue: Mac stood tall and straight. And even though he still didn't quite reach Goos height, he held her with such firmness and confidence (with a pinch of shyness) that made his shortness an unimportant trait.
Bloo, after minutes of watching Goo and Mac swirl and touch, step apart, only to come back close again, finally tore his gaze away. He shrugged, and went back to his room.
"There's nothing to be nervous about Goo."
"But what if I forget my lines Mac? And I'm standing in front of this huuuuuge crowd and I don't know what to say and they throw tomatoes at me. Because they do that Mac. They throw tomatoes and unsatisfactory things- the audience does. I gotta statisfy their taste for a good show Mac, or it'll ruin everything. And not like that time I filled up Fosters ruin, but ruin ruin as in the whole school will hate me, and I'll be a big fat dumb weirdo again and then even you may even hate me. Because you're in it too and you've worked really really really hard Mac. Like a construction worker. Only you're not and don't have the slipping pants. But if I mess it up Mac, you gotta–"
Mac, instinctively, pulled Goo closer to him. She felt her cheeks warm a bit and silenced at the movement.
"You'll do fine Goo. We've been practicing for a whole month." Mac glided Goo gently, feeling an odd sensation in his belly when Goo smiled at him. "You don't have anything to worry about."
"Thanks Mac."
"It's no problem; we're friends."
"And we'll always be friends?" Goo pressed on.
Mac paused. "Uh, yeah..." he said, with a strange sort of difficulty. The words didn't...feel right, but he released them sturdily enough, " We'll always...just be friends."
"So even if I mess up the play you'll still–"
"Goo, you've nailed your whole part. You totally seem like Cinderella. You won't mess it up– "
"But if I do Mac," Goo insisted, halting herself. She stared at him firmly. "If I do mess up– like, ruin ruin mess up– only not like the ruins of the world mess up but mess up mess up, you'll promise to be my friend anyway?"
Perhaps it was the chandelier lighting, or the elegnance of Goos dress, but Mac saw his friend in a way he wasn't sure he ever had before: so kind and funny and smart and such good fun to be with...and a girl; that was what truly struck him– truly struck him. Goo was a girl he was dancing with, a girl he was comfortable with and a girl he...he liked. And (he blushed fiercely) she wasn't just someone he thought of as a friend. He thought of her in another way too...a romantic way– ever since they'd been practicing the play of Cinderella, and he had been cast the prince and Goo the star of the play. With every dance practice, line rehersal, and break, his friendship with Goo seemed to deep and shift into...
Mac shook his head.
Goo blinked. "You...you won't be my friend?" she asked quietly.
"Huh?" Mac shook his head again, trying to clear his thoughts. "Sorry Goo, I–"
"No– I–um, I–I can understand that," Goo said hurriedly, holding her palms up and taking a step back. She looked so upset– her eyebrows bunched up and her lower lip trembling slightly– that Mac felt his heart squeeze.
"Goo–"
"No, I really...really understand Mac. I mean, I'm not very good at this kind of thing. Let's face it: I'm no Princess Britney Lollipop Star. Really not that good. I didn't even want the part 'cause the fairy godmother seemed the coolest part to me. I'd have done much better at that Mac, because I used to wave a magic wand around when I was little– but it was actually a pretzel stick I'd eat at the end– but I have pratice with wand-waving. Because stick-wavings, like, the same thing– only not a stick but a wand, which is really obvious Mac, I know, but I have practice with that...So–so I can understand you not wanting to be friends when I mess up, because I will mess up Mac, because I don't have any practice with this. Or singing mice. Actually, this is a very sexist role Mac, but I should play it well because it's just a play but everyones going to see it. And I'm going to mess it up and everyone will see and–I'll–I'll lose you as a friend–and–that–I really–" Goo cut off, her eyes watering. She wiped them quickly. "But I really understand–"
"GOO!" Mac said loudly, moving toward her and taking her hand gently. She sniffed, opening her mouth to say something else– something else ridiculous, like him, Mac, not wanting to be near her– even though that was so far from the truth, something ridiculous like not wanting to be her friend and support her or just...just...
"I won't stop," he said finally, in the hush of silence, "I won't ever stop being your friend Goo." He looked at her– so sincerely– that Goo smiled at him.
"Promise?" she insisted.
"I promise."
An odd, awkward quiet nestled itself between them. Mac was just about to let go of Goos hand when she said something so unexpected that he stilled:
"You really are like a Prince."
Mac shook his head and turned away. "Not really–"
"Not like stereotypical Prince Mac, but a Prince with flaws. Because those are a lot better Mac. They're real and attactive and...such good friends. I..." Goo dropped his hand, drawing her own to her chest shyly. "I think so anyway..."
"Just..." Mac found himself saying, "Just good friends..?"
"Y-yeah...I mean..."
Goo looked up at Mac, soundlessly, anxiously.
"I mean..."
Goo took a step toward Mac, and he toward her, until they both stood close, together, gazing at each other in that way: that way that expressed hidden tension, a secret desire, excitement– a thrill!– and a touch...of fear.
Before Mac could think and consider it logical, he reached out a hand and brushed it against Goos cheek. She felt soft and...the way she had her eyes on him, watching him, saying the unsaid inside him:
"What else is there..?"
Both of them leaned in close, growing the urge to discover the answer...With thudding hearts–
"ACHOO!"
"COCO!" Bloo thundered. "You'll–"
"Bloo!" Mac cried out. Both he and Goo jerked at the sneeze. Was that Bloo? Really? Had...had they been seen just now, heard just now? Just...now of all times? No! Mac shook his head in firm disbeliefe. They couldn't– everyone had been asleep; they had both checked! "Bloo, is that you?"
"Nooo...It's...your fairy godmother!" Bloo called, from around the darkened staircase. "Here to...turn Frankie into a pumpkin...!"
"What do you mean a pumpkin!"
Mac blinked. "Frankie?"
"Um..." He heard Frankie mumble. "I'm not Frankie...I'm...the evil stepmother!"
"Oh no,dearie, that's my part."
"Madame Foster?"
Mac soon found that all of Foster's had been peeking in on his...his moment with Goo from the staircase, in the dark! There was little to cool Macs anger, even when Frankie apologized numerously and ushered everyone back to their rooms.
After awile it was just Mac and Goo, once again. Macs anger flipped to embarrassment as he fiddled with his thumbs and mumbled, "Sorry Goo–"
"–No, I'm sorry Mac..." Goo took a deep breath. "Um, I should probably...probably go home."
"Uh, yeah...I'll–I'll walk you. Uh, there I mean..."
"Oh...uh, um, th–thanks."
And in the lateness of night, Mac and Goo walked side by side, not speaking a word– not daring to. The previous moment had been adventurous, different, something not "everyday" and it was a reliefe, to Mac, in way, that it had not gotten a chance to go farther. Maybe right now...just pretending to be in love, acting like it, in a play, would be enough.
So Mac believed.
That is, until Goo kissed him on the cheek in front of her doorstep.
"Good night Mac," she said quickly, smiling, as she hurried inside her home.
For a long time Mac stared at her shut door. He pondered there, considered there, and finally concluded there:
When it fits.
Hello! Author here. Hopefully, you enjoyed the story. At the end when Mac thinks, "When it fits" I was having him think along the lines of "sure I know the slipper fits, but when does it fit? in due time". And it is perfectly fine if that crossed no one elses mind. I really hope this story was, at least, decent enough to read. Mac and Goo are quite an interesting pairing to consider. As a cool badger might say, "very well then"!