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I debated against my inner thoughts the whole walk over. I know I shouldn't be walking by myself after dark, especially since I somehow always manage to get myself into life or death situations but I need to talk to him. It's late, actually it's only 9:43 pm but in this small quant town of Glory, it's already past everyone's bedtimes.
I can see him through the window of the dimly-lit diner. He's wiping the counter with a rag, in rhythmic, circular motions. He has his back turned to me so he doesn't notice me walk in as I softly close the door behind me.
He's obviously lost in his thoughts. "She's just my friend, it's just a small crush that will eventually pass, I'm not in love . . ." he mutters to himself.
"Hey Zane," I say quietly, cutting him off.
He jumps at the sound of my voice, "Sam, God! You scared me!"
"Sorry," I reply, awkwardly looking at my shoes.
"Don't worry about it, at least you're not a serial killer in a Halloween costume," he chuckles, his cheeks are slowly turning pink.
I smile at him, "Oh yeah, I forgot that was last week, right?"
"Yeah . . . what, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home, curled up in bed?" he asks. He continues wiping the counter, refusing to meet my gaze.
"I don't know, I just had to see you." He acts like he didn't hear me. "Um . . . Listen Zane . . . We've been friends for a long time now, and I've been developing these feelings for you . . ."
"Don't." he simply says.
He laughs again, except this time, there's a noticeable bitterness I his tone. "Don't lead me on like this just so that you can walk away from me again. You know that ever since I hit puberty I've been subtly asking you to go out with me. You know what? I'm tired of being subtle. Sam, I'm in love with you and I want to be your boyfriend. Is that clear enough for you?"
Throughout his rant he doesn't look at me. There's so much I want to tell him, yet I don't know how to. All I can say is, "I'm scared."
He forces himself to look at me. His pleading stare pierces my heart. "Scared of what?"
"Scared of losing my best friend. You've been there for me for as far as I can remember. Getting together would only complicate things. What if it doesn't work out? I don't want us to end up like some overdramatic teenage couple on the WB. Look at Dawson and Joey, look how they turned out."
He walks over to me. He's so close, we're only inches apart. I can feel the sexual tension radiating off both our bodies. He brings one hand on my cheek and inches closer to give me a soft and tender kiss. I kiss him back, feeling the electricity run through my spine. He pulls away, and gives me a look, a knowing glance that sees through the depths of my soul. He leans in closer and whispers, "Just give me a chance."
How can I say no to that? "Okay."
I nod, and begin to smile uncontrollably.
"Sam, hun, first of all don't ever compare me to troll doll they call James Van Der Beek. Second, i'm not going to let that happen. Whatever happens, I'll always be here for you as whatever - a friend, a boyfriend, a sex parter. With that aside, let's go make out some more, huh?" he suggests as he raises an eyebrow.
I smack him upside the head. "I swear all you 15-year old boys are the same - hormone crazed. Why don't I help you clean up so your mom doesn't kill you before I do?"
He attacks me with a barrage of small kisses. "Sounds like a plan to me."
I pick up a spare rag and help him wipe the counter. I wipe the fears away. I wipe the obstacles away. And I'm left with a clean slate, a renewed sense of hope, and the best part of all - Zane.