Hey guys! I'm not completely happy with this chapter, I don't think it fits in with the story very well but... I think it makes up for the character torture of the last few chapters! Anyway, let me know what you think :)

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"Are we actually going to start on this assignment or are you going to just keep staring at me like that?"

Chelsie grinned at her best friend, who snapped out of his daydream at the sound of her voice, pushing his glasses up his nose and trying to stop his cheeks from turning a pink shade. The whole time she had been over at his place, he had been acting strangely, and she couldn’t put her finger on why.

But she pushed those thoughts out of her head when she fell back to reality – where they had a paired assignment due for tomorrow that they hadn’t even started.

"We can do the assignment," answered Fred, clearing his throat, in a way that could’ve been interpreted as nervous. "So, what have we got to do?"

"Would help if you wrote it down." Chelsie rolled her eyes playfully and chucked her sheet of notes in his direction. She watched him scan the words written down from behind his thick-rimmed glasses.

"So where do we start?"

"Come on, I thought you were the nerdy one," she joked, hopping off the bed and stepping closer to Fred, who was sitting on the chair at his desk. "Shove off, then, and let me sit down."

"Uh, no way," he responded with a smile, folding his arms. "This is my seat. Get your own."

"You want me to push you off?"

Fred glanced at her, studying her expression to see how serious she was. "You wouldn’t do that."

"Wouldn’t I?" Chelsie challenged, with a grin. She paused for a moment, as if thinking. "No, I wouldn’t. But I can sit on you." Flashing a smile, she launched herself backwards until she was sitting directly on Fred’s lap.

"Oof," he gasped in surprise, as he felt the weight of Chelsie’s body crushing his legs. "I’m going to lose blood circulation in my legs, you know. Then you’ll be sorry."

Despite his jokes, he couldn’t stop the warm feeling from rising to his cheeks – he was sure that they had turned pink by now, although he didn’t really know why. The thought of being in such close proximity to Chelsie made him... flustered. But why? They had been best friends for years, shared everything, knew exactly what was going on inside each other’s heads every moment of the day. And yet now... Fred could barely look at her without losing himself in a daydream. The whole thing sounded girly and weird to him, but he couldn’t deny it.

"Ah, you’ll live," she dismissed, with a fleeting wave of her hand. She leaned over towards the desk, letting her hand find the computer mouse and typing in his password without so much as a blink.

"Hey, how’d you know my password?" he said, as the computer granted her access and she opened up the internet browser. Even though they had been best friends for years, and she had spent so many hours in this room, he was still surprised. The thought made him kind of... on edge, almost nervous, as if she knew something about him, although there was nothing embarrassing on his computer.

"Uh, face it, Fred, having your password as password isn’t all too secure. I guessed it years ago, and you still haven’t changed it."

"You never know!" he said, sticking out his bottom hip and folding his arms. "I might decide to change it tonight. Or tomorrow. Then you won’t know it."

"Oh, don’t worry, it won’t take me long to figure out even if you do change it. I’ve known you too long, Fred," she said, turning away from the screen to look at him, slightly taken aback by how intently he was gazing at her. She paused, frowning slightly. "What is it? Why do you keep staring at me? Do I have something on my face?"

"No, no..."

"Then seriously, why do you keep looking at me like that? It’s weirding me out, Fred," she half-smiled, although she was still confused as to why he was acting like this. He was miles away from his usual bubbly, nerdy self that she knew and loved so well.

"I’m not looking at you," he said, suddenly snapping back to reality. "You’re imagining things. So come on, what are we doing for this assignment?"

But even as Chelsie began talking, suggesting ideas for what they could do and how they could present it, he found himself completely unable to focus on the words that were coming out of her mouth. Every time he forced himself to concentrate, he started getting caught up in looking at her, gazing intently at her lips and becoming entranced by the way they moved. They looked so soft, so inviting, he couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like...

"... so I thought we could write that up and then do a presentation. Yeah?" Chelsie looked at him expectantly.

"Um, yeah, sounds great," he responded, running his hands through his hair as Chelsie removed herself from his lap and walked over to the bed, where she had thrown her school bag. He pushed his glasses further up his nose again, for lack of something else to do. It had become more like a habit now, more difficult to stop with every day that passed.

"You know, if you got a pair of glasses that were actually the right size, you might not have to keep adjusting them every three seconds," Chelsie said, matter-of-factly as she turned round again, her notebook in her hand.

"Or if I could just grow a bigger nose," he joked, finally bringing himself to smile properly again.

Chelsie laughed, her mouth opening widely in a huge smile that showed off her small white teeth. "Seriously, though. We have got to finish this assignment. Well, to finish it we’ve got to start it. It’s due first thing and if we don’t turn anything in, Mr Gray’s going to kill us."

"Hey, who’s Olivia paired with?" Fred asked, as the thought occurred to him. He had forgotten that she was in their Chemistry class, and was also supposed to be doing the assignment.

"Uh..." Chelsie frowned, trying to think back to the day when Mr Gray had called out the list of pairs. "Wasn’t she with Dave?" She could vaguely recall his name being called after Olivia’s.

"Oh, yeah." Fred nodded. "Wow, she’s going to be stuck doing all of the work. He’s not exactly the type of person to get assignments done."

"No kidding," agreed Chelsie. She flipped open her notebook and tapped her pen on the blank page. "But neither are we at the minute. So come on, let’s get on with it."

***

"There we go, it’s done," Chelsie said, moving the cursor and clicking the Print icon in the corner of the screen, causing the printer on the far side of the room to whir into life and start spurting out their documents. "And we finished that assignment in the record breaking time of... one hour fifteen minutes."

"Pretty good going." Fred picked up the printed sheet and let his eyes scan across it, checking for any visible mistakes. "One for the Guinness Book of Records, then."

"Uh huh," she agreed, before collapsing back onto Fred’s messy bed, letting out a deep sigh as the mattress sunk below her. She looked up at the pale ceiling, inspecting the swirly pattern like she had done so many times before. She could not even count the number of occasions when she found herself in this room, unable to sleep in the scratchy sleeping bag which lay between her and the carpet, amusing herself by attempting to find patterns on the ceiling. She never did. "God, I’m tired."

"Hey, don’t mess that up!" he said, frowning at the wrinkled sheets that lay below Chelsie’s body.

"It was messed up before," she dismissed, with a wave of her hand and a playful grin in Fred’s direction. "You’re not exactly one for tidiness, anyway." She gestured around the room, which was cluttered with random junk of every shape and size. Fred’s mom had told him to have a clear out practically every day since they were little, and every time Fred had got offended, saying pointedly, ‘It’s not junk!’

Now, she had given up, and the room looked as untidy as ever – but that was the only way Chelsie had ever known it. If she turned up one day to find it clean, it wouldn’t feel right. It was a perfect indication of Fred’s quirky personality, after all.

He folded his arms over his chest, pouting exaggeratingly, in a way that made Chelsie throw back her head and laugh. He grinned back at her, approaching the bed, before launching himself backwards until he was sitting next to her, his legs crossed on the creased bedspread.

"So, what do we do now?" Chelsie asked, hoisting herself upwards into a sitting position, leaning backwards and allowing herself to prop up her body on her elbows. "We’ve still got another hour before Mom wants me home."

"Watch TV?" Fred suggested, gesturing towards the small television set that stood on a table in the corner of the room.

Chelsie rolled her eyes. "I’m not sitting through another episode of Star Trek or whatever it is that you watch," she said pointedly.

"I don’t watch that all the time," Fred protested. "Anyway, it’s an awesome programme. How can you not like it?"

"Because I’m not such a big nerd as you," she grinned back at him. "There’s a difference between being labelled as a nerd, and acting like one, and you, my friend, are the epitome of acting like one."

"Let’s see you come up with a better idea."

"Fine, then. I will," Chelsie said. "Let’s talk."

"Talk?" Fred raised his eyebrows, looking at her strangely. He wasn’t quite sure whether she was joking or not, but her face was as serious as ever. "You want to sit here and talk?"

"Yeah, why not?" she responded breezily. "We never talk. Well, not properly anyway."

"But talking’s for couples," he said, trying to ignore the quickening pace of his heartbeat as the words escaped his mouth. "All that lovey-dovey mushy stuff, right?"

"You don’t want to talk?"

"No, no! I do. Fine, okay," he agreed, as strange as it seemed. Honestly, this was the last thing he had expected Chelsie to suggest. He wasn’t even sure why he was so reluctant – what was so wrong about talking to his best friend? They did it every day, with no complications. But that still didn’t explain why the thought brought him to the brink of nervousness. "What are we supposed to talk about, anyway?"

"Well, we could start by you explaining to me why you’re acting so strangely today," she answered, half-smiling.

Fred frowned. "What? I’m not acting strangely."

"You’re doing it right now," she pointed out. "Come on, what is it? Are you PMS-ing or something?" Her lips spread into a smile at her joke.

"Yeah, that’s it," Fred said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, raising his hands in the air as if surrendering. "You caught me. I’m a girl in disguise."

Chelsie pretended to gasp. "So that’s why you’ve got such a girly haircut!"

"Hey!" Fred slapped her playfully on the arm, causing her to yelp in surprise. "I do not have a girly haircut. My mom cut it like this for me!"

"Oh my gosh, you are such a dork." She grinned. "I’m kidding. But seriously, are you going to tell me what’s really on your mind? Or are you going to get all manly and defensive?"

"I told you; I’m fine," he protested. "There’s nothing ‘on my mind’, as you put it."

"So I see you’ve chosen the second option." Chelsie rolled her eyes, shaking her head loosely. "There’s definitely something up. Why can’t you tell me? We’re best friends, after all."

"Yes, that’s true. You are my best friend, but there’s nothing to tell. So I’m afraid your request is impossible."

"Do you have a crush on someone?" Chelsie’s mouth opened in surprise as the idea popped into her head. "Oh my God, you totally do! Who is it?!"

Fred froze for a second, willing his signature blush not to start rising to his cheeks. If it did, Chelsie would come to the immediate conclusion and never let him live it down. He swallowed, concentrating hard. "I don’t have a crush on anyone."

"You, my friend, are lying!" she shrieked, waggling a finger in front of his face and grinning triumphantly at her revelation. "Come on, tell me who it is!"

"I have told you, I don’t have a crush on anyone. You think I want to go anywhere near all that mushy love stuff? No, thank you."

Chelsie sighed, lowering her voice and pouting. "Fred, come on. You can tell me whoever it is. It’s not like I’m going to tell them, am I? So just say... there’s no way they’re going to find out." She smiled encouragingly, meeting his gaze as she waited for his response.

But he didn’t say anything. What could he say? There was no way he could admit it. He didn’t even want to admit it to himself – the whole thing was just too weird. Because while he knew almost everything about math, history or any other academic, the prospect of love and... relationships was completely unknown territory.

His lack of a response only dug him a deeper hole, though, because by now, Chelsie was looking at him intently, a look of confusion upon her face. "What?" She forced out a laugh. "Come on, it’s not like you’re crushing on me, is it?"

Oh, crap.

She froze, her mouth hanging open slightly in shock. "You don’t... surely you don’t have a crush on me?"

The words hung in the air, spoken for the first time. Fred didn’t even dare to look upwards, to meet Chelsie’s questioning gaze. He had blown it. What had he done? Even if he tried to deny it now, it would be obvious he was lying. Their friendship would never be rid of the awkwardness that he had just created.

What felt like an eternity passed, when it reality it was a mere few seconds. Neither of them dared to speak another word. Chelsie was too shell-shocked, and Fred was just downright embarrassed. What if she doesn’t even like me in that way? He cursed himself for even feeling this way. We’re best friends, nothing more. Why did you have to go and ruin that?

And then the most shocking thing happened. Neither of them expected it.

Fred leaned forward and kissed her. He didn’t even know what caused him to do it. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through his veins with every beat of his heart, or maybe it was because he honestly didn't know what else to do. But there was one thing he did know - the feeling of his lips moving gently, smoothly against hers was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

Chelsie didn't resist, or try to pull away. She just sat, frozen to the spot, as Fred's lips moved on hers. And when he leaned back, studying her expression with an air of nervousness, she met his gaze with an unreadable look.

"You kissed me," she breathed, unable to do anything else but state the obvious.

"Yeah," Fred whispered back. He didn’t know the exact reason behind why they were keeping their voices so quiet, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

"My first kiss," she said, not breaking eye contact. "You were my first kiss."

What was she implying? Fred resisted the urge to frown, to ask her what she meant. Was she saying that she hadn’t wanted her first kiss to be with him, or was she simply stating a fact?

"I’m sorry..." Fred began, his eyes shifting downwards in guilt. "If you didn’t want it to be like that, you know, with me..."

"Shh." Chelsie lifted a finger to his lips, indicating for him to stop talking. He obeyed, tilting his head upwards until he met her gaze once more. She kept her hand there, her index finger pressed against the softness of his lips, for a few seconds. Her touch was soft, tender, as if handling a fragile object, and her eyes looked intently into his, even though it was impossible to tell what was running through her head.

After a few moments had passed, she pulled her finger away, leaving it lingering in the air for a few seconds. Then, without warning, her arms curled around Fred’s back, pulling him closer to her until their lips met for the second time.

This time, it was a lot easier to tell what she was thinking. She dominated the kiss, letting her lips move freely against his so tenderly and yet so passionately.

And when they separated, their heads still held together so closely they could feel each other’s breath tickle their cheeks, Chelsie let a small smile spread across her face. "This is like one of those cliché love stories, isn’t it?" she said.

"Why?"

"Because," she answered, as her smile widened. "I think I’m in love with my best friend."