They Call Him Chandler (Under Revision)

Three: Forgive, But Don't Forget

~Nikki~

Still December 25th, 2011

“How can you do this, Mom?! How can you let him move in here?!” I yelled to my Mother whisper. I’d pulled her into the kitchen to question her judgment about her pervious decision. How could she let Chandler move into this house? How could she do this to me? “What does Dad have to say about this?!”

She put her hands on my shoulders, giving me a motherly smile. “He needs somewhere to live.”

“So let him move in with his parents!” I snapped at here, stressing the ‘his’ for obvious reasons.

“You know he can’t do that.” she said shaking her head as she gave me a sad look. “Why are you so mad at him, Darling?”

“Because I lo--” I stopped myself, shutting my mouth eminently. I couldn’t tell her how I feel about Chandler. She’d think I was crazy. Or worse…she’d tell him. And we know that would be a compete and utter catastrophe. “Because he didn’t even contact us. He was like a brother to me.” Lie. “When he left, a piece of our family went with him.” truth. “I can’t even look at him knowing he didn’t care enough to call or even send a letter.” semi lie. I couldn’t look at him because it hurt like hell knowing he’d never be mine.

“Lower your voice.” my mother hushed me, pulling me further into the kitchen. “Can’t you see how bad he feels? Nicole, I really need you to speak to Chandler. It’s killing him.”

“Honestly, Mom.” I gave her a tired look as I backed out of the kitchen. So it’s killing Chandler that I won’t speak to him? Good. Maybe he’ll under stand how I’ve felt for the past five years. I may have to see him everyday, but I don’t have to speak to him and I damn sure don’t have to make him feel welcome. Because, to be honest, he’s not welcome here. Not by me. “I could care less about Chandler’s feelings.”

----

January 21st, 2012

It’s nearly been a month since Chandler officially moved into our house. Nothing has changed since Christmas. I still won’t speak to him, and when I can, I don’t even make contact. ‘Only when necessary’ is my Chandler touching/speaking rule. For the most part, it’s working. However, for some reason, Chandler still hasn’t gotten the hint. He still tries to joke with me, talk to me, hug me like he used to. I normally push him off or shoot him a look and he’ll back off. But, for the past two days, he’s been pretty determined when it comes to being around me. Like right now, I’m cooking dinner. And guess what he’s doing? That’s right. Sitting on the counter behind me.

“Don’t you think you are a little too young to cook dinner for everyone?” I heard him chuckle from behind me. “You’re only seventeen.” 

Without missing a beat, or even turning around, I shot an insult right back. “Don’t you think you’re a little too old to live in the house with family that isn’t yours?” out of anger, I slammed the side of the knife down on the garlic harder than necessary. He shouldn’t mess with me while I’m chopping things with big, sharp knives. “You’re only…” I shrugged. “Twenty-fucking-one.”

“Touché, Mon amour. Touché.” he mumbled that. “And you never told me Happy Birthday.” he told me. His birthday was the day after Christmas. And, of course, Nick took him out drinking. Which was stupid, but whatever.

“Je ne suis pas de votre ‘amour’et anniversaire, trou du cul.” I snapped at him in a perfect French accent. ‘I’m not your ‘love’ and happy birthday, asshole’ is what I just said. Amazing how something so rude can sound to sweet in another language.  

“Nice.” he said in shock, clapping. “I see your French skills have improved.”

“Yeah. Even though my teacher left me, never to be heard from again.” this time, my knife slammed down on the chicken I was chopping, slicing it into tiny pieces. “That was until he waltzed into my living room a month ago, mind set on moving in, screwing up everything,” another chop. “Pretty much flipping my life upside down.” another insanely loud chop. “AGAIN.” and another. “But, I guess some people don’t know how to stay away, now do they?” I went to chop again, but Chandler caught my hand, sliding my fingers from under the blade. Did I…? I almost chopped my finger tips off.

“Careful.” he whispered, his lips so close to my ear I could feel his breath. ‘How did he get over here so freaking fast?’ Is what I thought to myself, trying to ignore the fact that Chandler is touching me. “Nikki,” he pulled my hair over my right shoulder slowly. I gasped, shuddering when his hand brushed against the back of my neck. “Please don’t hurt yourself because you’re mad at me.”

“Get away from me, Chandler. Now.” I said through tight lips, teeth clinched as I tried to hold back the urge to hug him and not let go. I’ve honestly been feeling that way since he walked through the door. But my brain knew not to let my heart off of it’s leash again. Not a good idea.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled, backing away from me.

I quickly turned around with the knife in my hand. I wasn’t exactly pointing at him, but at the same time, I was. I’d never hurt Chandler, he knew that. I just wanted to scare him a little. “Don’t ever touch me, or even come in my personal space without my permission, Chandler Alexander.”

He held his hands up in surrender, a perfectly crocked smirk spreading across his face as he walked backwards towards the stairs. “Fair enough.”

I nodded, before turning back to the chicken. I did owe him a thanks for not letting me chop my fingers off, but I’ll never thank him for anything. He doesn’t deserve it. “Freaking pedo-bear.” I mumbled under my breath, as I began to chop the green peppers.

“I heard that!” Chandler yelled from the top of the stairs.

I rolled my eyes. So he has super hearing too? Stupid Chandler. “Good!”

----

I heard my Dad’s truck pull into the driveway. I smiled because I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks. He flies into Dallas, Texas and lives there most of the week because of his job. It really takes a toll on the rest of the family. We normally see him on the weekends, however, after he helped Chandler move in, my Dad thought it was alright for him to stay away longer. Something about him feeling safer with Chandler being here. If someone breaks into our house, what the heck is Chandler gonna do? Throw guitar picks and xbox controllers at the burglar/possible murder? Be serious.

“Hey, Nikki.” my Dad said, sitting his jacket and briefcase down on a chair before walking over to give me a hug.

“Hey, Dad.” I gave him a one armed hug, trying not to get any of the food on him. I’m still cooking. Obviously.

I heard him pull a chair into the kitchen, before sitting down and opening a bottle of water. “Where’s your Mother and the boys?”

“Mom is in her office, Chandler and Nick went to the store.” I told him as I searched for the cheese in the refrigerator. I’d sent Nick to the store for a pan. A pan I really didn’t need. I just wanted him to get Chandler away from me. That’s when I came up with the idea to get them out of the house so I could cook in private.

“Good because I wanted to talk to you about something.” he sighed. “I’ve been talking to your Mother about--Well, your Mother has been talking to me about you and Chandler.”

Well great. I’m about to get a goddamn lecture. Totally not in the mood. I just got rid of my problem, now I have to sit here and talk about him with my Dad? Higher power, you’re killing me here. “Of course.” I mumbled to myself, violently opening the packet of cheese. Gotta get my anger out some how. 

“I heard something about snarky comments and not speaking? You used to love Chandler. What’s going on with you two?”

“Absolutely nothing.” I said firmly as I stabbed the knife into the center of the cheese. I’m not a violent person at all. Actually, I’m normally extremely calm. But when it comes to Chandler, he just gets under my skin. Hints the stabbing of various foods.

“Uh-huh. You seem rather upset about this whole situation.” he said, in a spectacle tone. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

I cut off a huge block of cheese, taking a calming breath before responding. “That’s what I said.”

“He did nothing to you, Nicole.” heard him sigh. “You have no reason to be mad at him.”

“He left, and didn’t even bother to let us know he was alive until a month ago when he needed somewhere to live. Is that not reason enough?” and that’s the honest truth. Maybe not the whole truth. But it’s the truth. However, the whole truth will never be known. And that’s probably for the best.

“Nicole, you may be able to fool everyone else, but you can’t fool me.” I heard him chuckle a bit. “I see the way you look at Chandler.”

The whole truth will never be know.

Yeah. I stand corrected.

As I turned around to face my Father, I eminently went into defense mode. It’s like an automatic reaction for me. “Like I despise him for what he did and didn’t do?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms. Like I said, defense mode.

“No.” he shook his head as he raised from his chair and began to walk toward my Mom’s office. “You look at him like I looked at your Mother when we were teenagers.” he gave me a warm smile before winking at me. The look on his face told me he knew how I felt about Chandler, but he wasn’t going to out me. This is why I love my Dad.

“Loose lips, sink ships.” I mumbled to myself, turning back to my chopping. “However, three can keep a secret if one of them is your Dad and the other is an inanimate object.”

“Smart girl.” is what I heard him chuckle before he disappeared into the office.

----

“So where’s the stud muffin?” Misty asked as she polished her nails on Skype. She’s been asking about Chandler since he moved in. Well, since he showed up at the door really. I believe she may have a tiny crush on him. Maybe that’s a bit much. But, she does think he’s gorgeous. Can you blame her?

“Downstairs. Eating dinner with everyone else.” I mumbled as I began to bite into the side of my taco. I didn’t want to eat dinner with my family. Actually, I didn’t want to eat dinner with Chandler. So, like most nights, I grabbed a plate and brought it to my room. I can eat with my teddy bear and tv.

She rolled her eyes at me, giving me a look I couldn’t understand. “9...8...7...6...”

“Dude. Why are you counting?” I frowned at her.

She ignored me. “3...2...1...Speak of the Devil.” is what she said right as Chandler poked his head in my door. How’d she…? That’s freaking scary…I swear Misty is psychic.

“And the Devil shall appear. I’ll call you back.” I told her, sighing as I closed my laptop. Knowing Chandler, he probably came up here to start some -for lack of a better word- bullshit. And Misty does not need to be a witness. “Why are you in here?”

He smiled, opening the door fully so he could walk into my room. He looked around for a second, taking in the site I guess. “Your room hasn’t changed much.” he chuckled, sitting on the foot of the bed. Oh God…how long has it been since he’s entered this room? Years on top of years.

“Is there something you need, Chandler?” I snapped at him, hoping the tone I used would make him want to leave the room. All I want is some peace and Chandler-free space for just twenty freaking minutes. Is that too much to ask?

“I can’t believe you never painted over that.” he chuckled, staring at the sharpie art on my wall. We drew most of those together. Stupid memories.

“Neither can I.” I mumbled mostly to myself.

When he turned around to face me, I could see some sadness in his eyes. That can’t be from me. I haven’t done anything to him. That mini talk in the kitchen was the first time I’ve actually spoken to him since he’d officially moved in. “I miss you, Nikki.” he sighed. “Can you please talk to me without that bitter undertone? At least once?”

I stared at him for a moment. Chandler Alexander just…begged? I know it’s been five years, and people change all the time, but this is strange. First he stutters, now he’s begging me to speak to him? I feel horrible that he’s come to this point.

But, lets say I start talking to him again and everything goes back to the way it was before he left. What happens when he leaves again? And more importantly, how the hell am I supposed to keep myself from falling apart?

He reached his hand out, taking mine and pulling it into his chest. “I love you, Niks.”

In that moment, my heart stopped, my breath sped up, and my eyes began to sting as the tears were rushing to the surface. It’s been five years since those words were said to me by Chandler. I don’t know what hurts more. The fact he was gone for five years and I missed him more than words can describe. Or the fact he didn’t mean those words the way I’d mean them. I guess they both hurt equally. “I’m sorry I haven’t been speaking to you.” I sighed, trying to hold back a tear that threatened to escape my eye. “I’ll speak to you now, and I’ll be friendly, yes. But things will never go back to how they used to. So don’t expect it to.”

A gorgeous smile formed on Chandler’s lips, his eyes lightened as he pulled me toward him into a long over due hug. I felt his lips press against the top of my head. “I’ve been dying to hug you since the moment you walked down the steps Christmas eve.”

“Oh.” is all I managed to say. Well, it’s all I could say because, I knew if I’d said anything else, everything I was trying to keep in would come flooding out of my mouth like a massive tsunami. And that’s something I can’t let happen. Not after I’ve managed to hold it in for nearly a month.

‘Stay strong, Nikki. You’ve only got two months until you can move out.’

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Author’s Note: Had to do a little time jump. This is supposed to be a semi short story. (: Also…who wants to see what the ever-so-gorgeous Chandler Alexander looks like? ;D 

Vomment and fan, darlings! Love you for reading! :D

-Lexi Rain<3