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Ch. 1: Homecoming

"So, I'm coming home next weekend for a quick visit," she said nonchalantly.

"I'm coming home..." The words echoed in his head, ripe with untapped possibilities.

"You busy?"

"Uh, no. I'm not busy. You won't be busy? I mean, with your family and other people and--" he ventured, not wanting to sound overly eager, though his heart was bursting with hope of spending time with her.

"Well, yeah. Gotta do the Summers family bonding. But if I ask you if you're busy, it implies that you're part of my busyness. I thought we could get together while I was in town. Maybe get a bite to eat?"

"Yes. Yeah. That sounds fine." Don't sound too eager. Try to stay calm. Play it cool. "Any reason you're coming down?" It was too much to hope that she was coming down for him, but he could at least confirm that it wasn't for anyone else.

"My mom's got this special thing at the gallery going on, and since I have a long weekend, she asked me to come down. It shouldn't be too bad, though."

"That's cool." He mentally sighed in relief, glad that she wasn't coming down because she missed Angel, her boyfriend before leaving for college. Their relationship had seemed pretty serious, and everyone had thought their love was eternal. William had quietly watched, imploding with the agony of seeing them together in the halls. Everyone else seemed surprised at the couple's demise, which took place shortly before the summer began, though he was ecstatic at the change of events. Fortunately, she didn't seem that upset about the break, which gave him a small piece of hope--though he knew he had nothing to do with their breakup.

"And you know how I’m non-drive-y girl. Can you pick me up?"

He rejoiced at her constant state of walking and his ability to drive; it made him feel like their get-togethers were dates, even though it was merely a necessity. "Sure. I can do that. Um, where did you want to go?"

"You know me. I like to be served. Let me think...What will I be in the mood for?" He envisioned her eyes closed, trying to taste what would be appealing then. He smiled at the image.

"Well, let's start with kind of food. I mean, Italian, Chinese, French, McDonalds..." William suggested.

"Oh, god--no fast food. College is just the worst when it comes to eating out and eating cheap. No, let's do a non-chain place. How about that Italian place by the park. Trattoria Piazza? I've heard good things about it."

"Whatever you want. That’s fine. Good." Though he was calm and nonchalant in responding, he was excited about her choice; he had been hearing how the new place was incredibly romantic and was recently voted the best new date place in the local Sunnydale newspaper. "So what time should I pick you up?"

"Um, how about 7? That way if we want to do something afterwards, it'll still be early enough. You don't have the SATs or anything this weekend, right?"

"No, no. This weekend is open. Saturday at 7." "SATs," he thought to himself miserably. She still saw him as a young high schooler.

"Yup. Cool. See you then."

"Bye."

He hung up the phone and sat still, waiting for his heart to go back to its normal pace, for his face to lose its flushed complexion. She was coming home this weekend. She was coming home this weekend, and she had called him to make specific plans to see him. William breathed in slowly, trying to control his excitement. He knew it didn't mean much to her, that he was just one person on a long list of friends she would be seeing this weekend, but he could pretend it meant more. Buffy, his golden angel, was coming home this weekend. He could feel his whole body warm in anticipation. How would he sit through three more days of monotonous high school when she was coming? Would she be the same? Would their friendship be the same even with her having left for college and meeting tons of new people? He was amazed that she even wanted to see him.

His body thrilled, thinking of her beautiful smile, how she could light up his room with laughter. He'd been in love with her for six years, ever since he'd moved to the States and she'd welcomed him when it seemed no one else noticed him. He still remembered her introducing herself, easily talking to him and inviting him to the local hangouts. She was the popular one; he had simply been someone tagging along, but he didn't care. They became good friends, with Buffy always making time to talk to him and hang out with him. He knew how many people she hung out with, boys she dated, girls she gossiped with. Her life was an endless whirlwind of relationships and social activities; he merely sat back and watched, waiting for his turn.

He had tried to stop loving her, tried when he'd realized she'd probably never see him as more than a young friend though they were only a year apart. When she had left for college, his world had become gray and uneventful. They emailed, keeping in touch as much as a freshman in college remembered those left behind. Why did he love her so much? To say that he was obsessed with her was too strong, too negative a description. Was his life gray and nondescript without her? Yes, to a degree. It wasn't that William didn't have a life of his own; it was simply that William was forgettable, and Buffy made him feel like she remembered him. When he had moved away from all that was comfortable, when he had lost his mother in a sudden accident and was forced to live in a new place with new people, when he felt that no one even noticed him...she did. Her smile had helped him deal with all those things and come out standing--and he couldn't let go of her, couldn't stop loving her, couldn't see other girls in that manner, no matter how hard he tried.

He had considered telling her at winter break, when she'd be down for a while, after he'd assured himself that his love persevered even in her absence. That, of course, was now irrelevant, since she was coming this weekend. She was coming this weekend! He closed his eyes, beginning to worry about how he would act, what she'd be like, how their pseudo-date would go. The thoughts darted around his head, refusing to let him get back to studying for his Calc exam tomorrow. He wanted to plan out his words, his actions, his movements, but for what? He knew that the moment he saw her, his plans would dissipate in the aura around her. No, there was nothing he could do to plan, to make the weekend come faster, to prepare himself for seeing her.

Now he could only wait. And breathe.

***

Buffy hung up the phone and immediately began chewing her lower lip. Was he excited that she was coming home? He hadn't sounded overly enthusiastic. Had he completely found other friends, other girls to take her place? She knew about Harmony, the cute blonde who'd been making eyes at him for some time, and he didn't seem to mind. She furrowed her brow, reviewing their conversation to find some hint of attraction or anticipation in his voice, his responses. Nothing.

Sighing, she threw herself back on the squeaky dorm bed. Everyone kept telling her that William was madly in love with her and had been for years. But every time they were together, she couldn't find any proof of it. She remembered first seeing William, his eyes downcast and his curls falling into his face. He'd had a gentle countenance, and she felt drawn to him. The others didn't think twice about him, but she brought him in, got him to play in her world. The more she had gotten to know him, the more she was enthralled by him. He was so different from everyone else, and she felt she had discovered some precious gem in William, a secret that she alone knew.

His poetry--a moment of late-night conversational weakness had revealed his penchant for writing and his refusal to show it to her, or anyone, since that bitch from England had laughed at him. His music--the little he had sung for her captivated her completely and made her gape at his lithe fingers, his gravelly voice, his closed eyes as he sang intimately about his inner thoughts. His wit--the more they talked, the more he joked with his dry sense of humor, commenting on the world around him and the people who inhabited it--and she always found herself laughing with him and being amazed at his way with words. And, of course, his washboard abs--she had gotten a peek at them while he was playing soccer and had wiped his face with his shirt in a rare moment of unbearable heat; he was not one to flaunt his body the way the other boys did, though she shamelessly wished he did.

Though all the girls agreed that he was cute, they didn't seem to share the fascination or attraction that Buffy had, though she was careful to hide it. And though they teased her about his unwavering love for her, Buffy couldn't admit that it was true until she had proof. Her relationships had not done much for her self-esteem--boys seemed to be eager to cheat on her, leave her, take her for granted, hurt her--and so she was unwilling to take a chance with a boy she felt so strongly for.

But maybe this weekend, she'd stop being such a wuss and just go for it. If things didn't work out, she could just go back to school and not have to face him on Monday. And if it did, well, that was another ending she could fantasize about.

She thought about him one more time, caressing his sharp features with her eyes, and then got to studying.





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