A Taste, A Touch, An Exit

Chapter 1

It's moderately quite save for the murmurs of the friends, siblings, and distant relatives as they chat in the grassy area outside the auditorium. A few women have made fans from their programs to combat the intense heat that has settled over the day. It's better than a rainy day, many crowd members say all the while wiping their foreheads free of the perspiration that settled there.

Those that stand outside are the ones unlucky enough not to get any seating in the main auditorium. That's where the graduates are currently accepting their diplomas with grand smiles which show their relief at having finally reached this point.

But the ones on heated grassy area outside are the unfortunate overflows. They aren't parents, mentors, or best friends that have guided those inside the auditorium closely to this point. They were there, sure, but not there.

And this is where Philip Rupert Diffy deserves to stand. He hasn't been there for the graduate that by now has already gotten her important piece of paper and is seated among the other 21st century graduates.

Phil can feel the sun beat down on him and two pairs of eyes boring into the back of his head. He tries ignoring the imploring stares. They don't exist right now as far as he's concerned. He runs a hand through his damp hair, tugs at his ear, then gives his shoulders a little shake to try and help rid himself of nerves. Because Phil Diffy is nervous. So incredibly nervous.

His heartbeat isn't going fast. It's a slow, steady beat, but each powerful pump of his heart he can feel throughout the rest of his body, like it recognizes his unease and is helping by making sure he has enough blood in his extremities to make a quick escape if need be.

Hopefully this won't go down like that.

Phil glances at the bouquet he got for the occasion. Roses mixed with white blossoms the florist named but he can't remember now. The cellophane they're wrapped in slides within his sweaty grasp. He is debating whether or not to take it off when the double doors to the auditorium burst open and a wave of graduates finally come to greet their loved ones.

The sudden change nearly makes Phil's heart explode with surprise. Now his heart is racing. His grip on the flowers tightens significantly as his eyes scan the mass of black robes and square caps exiting the building. Each flash of blonde makes his insides jolt, but each blonde is the wrong blonde.

When the graduates have exited and he still hasn't seen her, he gets worried. He must have missed her in the frenzy.

Phil takes a few uncertain steps among the black-robed young adults. He tries to make his jaunt look confident while his head turns every which way to scan the massive group.

Maybe he got the year wrong? No, no. He double checked that. The school wrong? Double checked that too. Maybe she's still inside? Maybe she got in a car the second she got outside and left? Maybe she sensed his presence and is avoiding him at all costs? Maybe she's—

There she is.

Phil's heart skips a beat. Literally. It stops for two agonizing seconds as his brown eyes finally catch sight of the correct shade of blonde with corresponding large green eyes and wide smile.

Instead of going over there with the oodles of confidence he had on his way here, he stand there rooted in place a little ways away with absolutely no confidence whatsoever.

Keely Teslow. His (former) best friend and first love. (Only love.) She looks beautiful in her robe and hat, somehow pulling off the outfit better than anyone else. She looks so much like the girl he left years ago yet different. Her countenance hasn't changed. Phil can tell that even from a distance.

She laughs at something one of her girlfriends says then she's talking a million miles a minute to three other girls who talk just as quickly right back. They pose for a picture which a super tall blonde guy photo-bombs by posing behind them and sticking out his tongue with bunny ears above Keely's head.

The girls figure that out fairly soon and turn on the guy with joking anger and teasing pinches meant as revenge. The guy only laughs and bends down to kiss Keely on the cheek. Keely swats him, but her smile is still there.

Phil's smile, however, is gone with the rest of his heart.

No. No, wait. That could have just been a friendly kiss. No big deal. Everyone's being extra friendly, holding one another closer with the knowledge that they won't see them for probably a very long time. It's fine. She...that didn't mean she's moved on. Everything's ok. Phil won't know anything for sure until he talks to her.

Which he will do.

...any minute now.

He's wasting time. He needs to go talk to her.

(Come on, feet. Move!)

Then the unthinkable happens. Keely's large eyes finally turn his way. They pass over him at first like he's just another stranger in the crowd...which he kind of is. He knows this and yet it still hurts.

But then her gaze sweeps to him again and settles there this time.

It's a process—unfamiliarity first off, then confusion mixed with doubt before her already large eyes grow even bigger with recognition.

For a flash of an instant, Phil feels completely exposed, like she can see everything about him that has happened since his departure. What he's been thinking, what he's been doing, what he's thinking now. All there before her to critique and judge and analyze.

Phil gives her a smile, one he hopes is similar to the smile she once told him was "adorable" back in high school.

Keely continues to stare. Her body freezes and the color drains from her cheeks despite the probably unbearable heat that comes with wearing such a large black robe on a sunny day.

She's on the edge of her group so no one really notices her change. She just stares. Stares at him.

Well...it's not like he was expecting a hug or anything (except he really was and shouldn't feel this disappointed that he didn't get one), but some sort of emotion would be nice from her to know what she might be thinking. Phil supposes it's his turn to do something besides standing there grinning like an idiot. He takes one step towards her—

—and stops because she jolts in a way that suggests she's afraid, that him coming closer scared her. A friend notices this and turns to ask her something with confusion. Keely snatches the friend's arm and says something to her with desperation on her face. Keely points to Phil. The friend looks at Phil. The friend nods and says "Yes" which was fairly easy for Phil to decipher from simply reading her lips.

"No," Keely says loud enough for Phil to catch, "this is important. Don't lie to me. Do you see him for real? What's his hair color?"

Phil's smile makes a reappearance. She thinks he's a figment of her imagination. Cute.

"Brown!" the friend exclaims in mimic of Keely's volume level. She says something else, pulls her arm away from Keely, and goes back to the others, leaving Keely to deal with what she's seeing.

Phil dares to take another step. Keely flinches, but she doesn't back away like before. Progress. Phil takes another step and holds out the flowers as a sort of peace-offering-slash-bribe to get her to come to him. "That's it," he murmurs to himself. "Come to Phil. You like the flowers. I know you do."

Keely looks around her at the other oblivious graduates. She looks back at him and points to herself. Phil nods. Yes. You. You, Keely Teslow.

Blessedly, Keely takes a step towards him. Then another. And another. Phil's heartbeat pumps harder and faster with each step she takes. When she's only one more step away, she stops. Her mouth opens and closes and opens again, mimicking a fish as she tries finding the words that won't come.

Just when Phil scrounges up the courage to speak, Keely's hands press against his cheeks and squish his face to the point of smooshing his mouth. Phil's eyes look to her, her hands, the sky, and back to her quizzically, but he stays still and lets her have a moment to make sure he's there. Kelly takes her time with moving his cheeks in comical ways though she doesn't laugh. Phil kind of wants to laugh. So he does. The light chuckle startles Keely back again.

He shoots her a million-watt smile and holds the flowers to her again. He sighs once, his shoulders rising and falling with the action. He finally speaks. "Hey, Keely."

Keely's hands fly to her chest, hands tucked under her chin protectively. (Why does he keep scaring her?) "Phil?" Her voice is music to his ears. He hasn't heard it in person in years. Old videos don't do her justice. "Is it...? You can't be—I mean, it's not poss...is it? No. Phil?"

Phil's smile falls a little. His mouth pinches together. The laughter is gone now. "It's me. Good to see you, Pepper."

A heartbeat. One infinite heartbeat where two sets of eyes stare into one another with recognition, understanding, and disbelief.

Keely flings herself at Phil with such force he nearly topples over. He manages to catch himself by staggering a few steps back. One of his arms wraps around her waist as he stands there trying to comprehend the girl that now has her arms around his neck, her cheek against his neck, and her tears on his shoulder.

"Phil," she sobs.

And he's never heard her sound this broken in his entire life. (Maybe this was a bad idea, a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispers.)

"I missed you so much. I can't—I can't believe you're here. You're really here!"

(The tiny voice is silenced.)

Phil's nervous heart flutters with happiness then settles into its regular, steady beat, finally able to relax now that he has her in his arms again.

"I'm here," he says. "I missed you too." Phil drops the flowers in order to wrap both arms around her. Now this...this is why he came back.

And this is the emotion he had been expecting from her—a joyous reunion. Keely had always been a bit on the dramatic side. This is just further proof of that as she sobs onto his shoulder, trembling in his arms, and squeezing his neck to the point of him having to flex his muscles there to keep from being choked.

And yet...maybe it's a little much, even for her.

"Keely? You ok?"

Keely answers with another heart-wrenching sob. She shakes her head. Phil feels this rather than sees it.

"You—You're not? Why not? What's wrong? I'm...I thought this was a good thing."

(The little voice is back. Bad idea.)

Keely pulls back. She keeps shaking her head as she furiously wipes at her face with one hand and fans herself with the other. This does little against the oppressive heat. She looks anywhere but him as she prattles on in broken sentences. "You...You—Phil, you...It's not possible for—at this time. Not now—this isn't how...is anyone else really, really hot? Can I get...?"

Keely's eyes roll into the back of her head and her legs collapse under her.

"Keely!"

A/N: Hello people of a long-dormant fandom! I greet you with open arms and a huge smile. I wrote this in a whirlwind of inspiration. A month ago I had a dream featuring Phil and Keely which was odd considering I hadn't thought of their show in YEARS. Long story short: I thought up a short story arc for them about...five? Five chapters long thanks to this dream.

I think I'll continue it. I already have the majority of the next chapter written. I'm publishing it because I'm curious who is still a fan of this show. Be warned, I'm rewatching episodes online I haven't seen since it aired on Disney so I might be slightly out-of-touch with the lingo of the show. But I'll try my hardest.

ALSO I have to say, I heard somewhere that there was a possibility of a movie for Phil of the Future where Phil and Keely end up together back when the show ended. I don't know how true this statement is, but I'm counting it as canon despite not knowing how the show was meant to end. THEY WILL BE TOGETHER IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT.

Let me know what you think! (Also rating might change from K+ to T. We shall see where this goes.)