Chapter Two

Angela threw her book bag down onto her desk, pulled off her coat, letting it fall to the floor in a pool of grey suede, and cast herself down onto her bed. She drummed her feet and pounded her hands on the soft material covering the firm mattress, so angry she could hardly think straight. Who did Shawn Hunter think he was anyway? Just because he was gorgeous and sexy with great hair did he think that that meant that she didn’t know her own worth? Angela wondered furiously. The cathartic temper tantrum over, she flopped over and stared up at the ceiling as tears of anger and hurt welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision before seeping out of the corners onto her overheated face. She lay there, still and listless, going over everything that had happened in the last two days. How happy she’d been when Shawn had asked her out for Valentine’s Day. How sweet and tender the kiss on the couch had been after he’d said that he would never lie to her and that he would never disappoint her. Of course, she remembered now, that that had been in response to her inquiry on whether or not he would lie to her when he’d admitted that Cory had lied to Topanga about kissing the ski lodge attendant, Lauren, on his advice. What assurance did she have presently that he wasn’t lying yet again and this time about his feelings for Dana Pruitt? Had a renewed interest in his ex-girlfriend been the impetus for suddenly wanting to be “friends”? Angela’s fertile imagination began to go round and round, over and under all the possibilities that could have contributed to the broken state of their relationship.

Forty-five minutes later, the door bell rang. Some time during her ruminations, Angela had rolled onto her side and fallen asleep in her favorite sleeping position. As the sound of the doorbell sounded again, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. There was no one home to answer the door but her. Her Dad had left town that morning for a week long Army recruiting drive in Pittsburgh at some of the local colleges there.

She jumped up as the visitor became impatient and leaned on the button, making it go off multiple times.

"Okay, okay!” Angela called out as she ran down the steps and landing to the living room. “I’m coming. Just give me a minute, will you?”

She peered through the peephole and sighed with relief. It had occurred to her on the trip to the door that it might be Shawn, and he was the last person that she wanted to see at that moment. However, that worry proved to be moot as she opened the door and got her first glimpse of her visitor. A genuinely welcoming smile curved her lips.

“Topanga,” she said with feeling, taking the girl's arm and drawing her inside. “How did you know that I needed you?”

Angela’s best friend stepped over the threshold and rolled her eyes. “You guys were at Chubbie's; need I say more?” She took off her coat which Angela took and hung on the coat tree near the door. Topanga held onto to her purse and book bag. “Practically within the hour, I had the whole thing from at least two people who were there. They talked about it during step class for the entire time we were exercising.” Topanga grinned facetiously. “I don't think they stopped to take a breath. They must be in good shape. I’ll give them that.”

Angela sighed with exasperation. “Our classmates must really not have any business of their own,” she complained hotly. “So did they get any of the details right?”

Topanga shrugged and followed Angela up the stairs. “Enough for me to know that you broke up with Shawn over Dana Pruitt. You should have seen all the hair tossing and lip glossing going on with the girls in our class as soon as the word got around.”

Angela pursed her soft lips for a infinitesimal moment. “Well, they’ll have to get in line behind Dana Pruitt,” she said acidly. “Still, that’s what I get for conducting a personal conversation at Philadelphia's equivalent of the Grand Central Station.”

Topanga glanced at her sympathetically. “Chubbie’s does have the most vocal grapevine I’ve ever come across.”

They sat down on her bed, and Topanga got a good look at her friend. She saw the traces of dried tears, and reaching out, she covered the hands that sat clenched in Angela’s lap with one of her own.

“How’re you holding up?” was her gentle query.

Angela shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m fine, Topanga,” she said evenly. And then as though unable to stop herself, she burst out with, “Why did I ever get involved with him? Shawn Hunter’s no prize. I mean, just his background alone. And-And he’s such a underachieving slacker. Look how he just wastes his potential. He deliberately does the bare minimum to get by in school. And here I was dating the co-captain of the football team.” She looked up at her friend, her dark eyes shining with moisture. “Do you know how many Big Ten and Pack Ten colleges are after Ted? He could even get into an Ivy League school if he wanted to. He might not be uber cool, but h-he, at least, has really good grades. W-What girl in their right mind would want someone like Shawn?!”

Topanga licked her lips. “Well, to answer your original question: maybe you got involved with Shawn because he’s one of the cutest guys in school,” her friend suggested craftily. “Or because he’s reputed to be a great kisser.”

Angela cut her eyes at her. “I’ve dated tons of cute guys, Topanga. That’s hardly the reason,” she retorted, contradicting her. “And even though I didn’t kiss all of them, several were outstanding kissers.” She tossed her head defiantly. “So—so phooey on Shawn Hunter and his overrated kisses!”

“My point exactly.” Topanga concurred with unimpaired composure. “You were intrigued by Shawn ever since you two sat together in Feeny’s Film class last semester. Did you think I missed the sparks between you guys?” She raised her eyebrow as Angela’s cheeks showed a hint of red under its chocolate tone and her eyes slid away. “All the back and forth of pens and pencils for no good reason when both of you had your own. Oh, and let’s not forget the lingering glances and coy smiles. Cory and I used to joke about it. Every time I turned around one of you was looking at the other out of the corner of your eye while pretending to pay attention to Feeny’s lecture.” Topanga shrugged nonchalantly. “It was only a matter of time before you two got together. That’s why I couldn’t believe it when both of you just casually agreed to walk away from each other on account of the stupid two week dating rule you each had in place at the time.”

Angela’s lips parted, but she couldn’t think of a glib comeback, and so closed them with an audible snap.

Topanga smiled inwardly. She was going to take full advantage of her friend’s unaccustomed tongue-tied state.

“Then how about this: Maybe you took a chance on him because you were falling in love with him but were too afraid of getting hurt to admit it?” Topanga’s blue eyes were empathetic.

Disgruntled by Topanga’s bluntness, she pulled her hands away and ignored that last theory, choosing to address the previous comment.

“Yeah, well, in hindsight my ‘stupid” two week rule seems like a really good idea right now,” she remarked sharply, with more than a little impatience in her voice. “Shawn hasn’t changed, and he never will. And to think I was blaming those girls. They only saw what I was too weak and stupid to s-see for myself. I was a fool to ever think he would be anything other than what he’s always been.”

Topanga was watching her with real concern. Angela was working herself up in to a real frenzy, she thought, unconsciously biting one manicured finger anxiously.

Angela was normally a very private person who kept a lot of her feelings to herself. Even she, her best friend, could only get so much out of her. Topanga was glad that she felt she could confide in her so openly, but this sudden purging of emotions while gratifying was worrying nonetheless.

On the spur of the moment, she opted to try a little experiment and see if it worked.

“I have to agree with everything you said so far, Ange,” she said, wagging her head woefully. “I've known Shawn since grade school. He's trailer trash, plain and simple, and always will be." She shrugged dismissively. "Anyone with any sense knows that someone with his unstable upbringing would have to be a bad bet in a relationship.”

Angela's bowed head jerked upright; the scowl on her face was ferocious. “Shawn is not trailer trash, Topanga. How dare you say that about him!” Angela regarded her ex-boyfriend's detractor indignantly. “Where he’s lived doesn’t define who he is,” she argued in his defense, “and has nothing to do with his ability or inability to sustain a relationship.”

Topanga bit her lip and held her tongue; but something in her eyes gave her away. Subsequently, Angela caught on to her little stratagem just as Topanga had intended she should.

“Ooh, you think you’re so clever,” she accused Topanga furiously, realizing that she’d been setup, “and I should have known you’d be on Shawn’s side even though you know, firsthand, how I feel because of everything Cory’s done.”

“Ange, I know you’re upset, and from just the little I’ve heard, you have every right to be, but Shawn’s nothing like what those girls are saying he is,” she protested, loyally and honestly defending her other friend. “I’ve never seen him as devoted to any one girl as he is to you." Topanga's blue eyes held her friend's dark brown. "You're in love with the guy, Angela. Just admit it.”

Angela’s response was to get up, wrap her arms around her waist and began to pace around her fairly spacious bedroom.

“What I'll admit to is that Shawn's an immature jerk who can’t even think for himself much less carry on a serious relationship.” She sniffed unhappily. “I’m glad I dumped the j-junior l-league C-C-Casanova!” she wailed and began to sob quietly into her hands.

Topanga jumped up and hugged her hurting friend. Angela had done as much for her yesterday when she’d learned of Cory’s treachery with that girl Lauren. And now, less than a full day later, here they were again. But this time it was Shawn who was the offending culprit.

Men! Topanga thought derisively. What were they good for except causing trouble?!

“Shush,” she cooed as Angela’s head lay on her shoulder. “Or you’re going to make me cry.” Angela wept a little harder. “We’ll get each other through this. I promise.” Topanga comforted her as best she could, murmuring soothing, unintelligible sounds and gently patting her back.

Angela hiccoughed and swallowed. She raised her head and looked at her friend. “I’m so self-centered, Topanga. Thinking only of myself when you’re hurting just as badly—probably more since you and Cory have been together much longer,” she remarked, chiding herself for her insensitivity while wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Topanga went to Angela’s vanity on the other side of the room near her walk-in closet and picked up a box of tissues from its surface. She pulled off several of the thin wispy papers, went back to Angela and pressed them into her hand.

“I can’t believe this happened with you guys right on the heels of my breakup with Cory,” she said, chagrined at the unfairness of fate. She watched Angela gently dab at her tears and sighed gustily. “It’s been so great having you and Shawn to go out with and do things with as couples. I was so happy when you two stopped dancing around each other and actually started going out."

Angela snorted. “We’d still be sneaking glances and dropping pens if I'd left it up to Shawn,” she scoffed; however, she was surprised to find that Topanga took the news in stride.

“Shawn's only a smooth operator when his heart isn't involved. He's only shy when he really, really likes a girl," she revealed, corroborating Angela's statement. "Not that that’s happened very often.” Then realizing where the conversation was leading, she judiciously closed her mouth and looked down at her hands.

Angela finished wiping her eyes and blew her nose. “You’re referring to Dana Pruitt, I suppose?” she asked acerbically. “I can’t imagine what he saw in her.” Even in her anger, Angela realized that denouncing someone she really didn’t know was unfair. Her face grew hot and she somewhat flustered, but nonetheless, she added fiercely, “I just don’t trust that innocent face of hers anymore than I can throw her.” Her hand involuntarily clenched around the sodden wad of tissues.

“I don’t blame you. She was absolutely crazy about Shawn,” Topanga admitted with brutal candor. “I’m not saying that to hurt you, Ange, but I think that out of all those girls, she might be the most dangerous. Not because Shawn still has feelings for her,” she added hastily when she saw the devastated look on Angela’s face, “but because of his insecurities. They weren’t together as long as you two were, but long enough her to be able to see what his weaknesses are. She could continue to use them against him just as they all did last night.”

“Well, I don’t care what she does. The ball's in Shawn’s court,” Angela said with a prideful toss of her short cork screw curls. She stalked over to the waste basket near her desk, throwing the crumbled paper into its depths before whirling around. “If he wants me, then he’s going to have to come to me…” Her voice trailed off and the sharpness dissipated from her features as they and her voice softened noticeably, “…just like he did when I was still dating Ted.”

At that moment and as though on cue, the phone rang and both girls simultaneously turned their heads to stare at it. It rang again, and Topanga turned back to Angela a question in her eyes. “It might be Shawn.”

“Or my Dad, more likely,” Angela responded reasonably. “I told you that he was away for the week. But if it’s him, he’ll call back tonight. We always talk before I go to bed when he’s away on these recruiting assignments. It's his way of checking up on me." She shook her head at the overprotectiveness of her father. "Anyway, the answering machine will catch it.” She crossed her arms, and in spite of her seeming nonchalance, her eyes avidly watched the ringing phone as though it were living, breathing entity.

Topanga nodded as the third ring sounded. After the fourth ring, just as Angela predicted, the answering machine automatically intercepted the call. Angela drew in her breath as Shawn’s voice, as clear as if he stood in the room with them, emerged through the tiny speaker.

“Angela, this is Shawn. If you’re there, pick up, please. Angela, we really need to talk. I know we can straighten this thing out if you’ll just talk to me. You said I could call when I had figured out what I wanted. Well, I have.” There was a pause. She could hear a commotion in the background and assumed it was either Jack or Eric probably teasing or taunting him. “Will you leave me alone!” he grumbled angrily, his voice a little distant as though the phone wasn’t poised near to his mouth. Then he said hastily, his voice clear once more, “Not you, Angela. That was, um, Eric."

Angela could just picture him hunching his shoulders and cupping his hand around the phone's mouthpiece to keep from being overheard in an effort to avoid more of his roommate's harassment.

"Uh, anyway, I really think we need to talk.” Another awkward pause ensued in which Eric's voice audibly warned him, “It’s going to cut you off soon, dude.” Then Shawn, speaking as fast as she’d ever heard him, hastily finished up his message. “Please call me back as soon as you get this. Things shouldn’t have ended the way they did last night or today at Chubbie’s. Please call me. Oh, um, this is Shawn. B-Bye.” The call ended with a decisive click.

Angela exhaled loudly and threw her head back, a pained expression marring her pretty face. She inhaled several deep and calming breaths, each time exhaling slowly and deliberately.

Topanga sat down on the bed. She looked up at the solemn face of the other girl. “Angela, Shawn sounds awful. I don’t think he’s interested in dating Dana Pruitt,” she stated quietly. “Not from what I heard anyway.”

However, the exchange of confidences and disclosures was clearly at an end for when Angela opened her eyes, she immediately straightened and headed for the door. Once there, she stood in the doorway facing Topanga, her mood patently subdued.

Topanga took swift stock of her. Obviously, Angela had been affected by Shawn’s message. She just didn’t know what that effect was or what it meant for the couple's chances of reconciliation. Angela’s soft voice drew her from this train of thought.

“I think we should get started on our homework,” she suggested lightly. “I’m ravenous all of the sudden. Do you want a snack? Or something to drink. I’m just going to hop down to the kitchen for a minute." She gestured for Topanga to join her. "Want to come?” She smiled for the second time since she’d run away from Chubbie’s. Her friend was relieved to see that it smacked of the old Angela and had a hint of the playful charm with which she was familiar. “How about that turkey Dagwood that you made for us when we pulled that all nighter for Feeny’s English mid-term?”

“Okay,” Topanga answered affirmatively, rising from where she sat on Angela’s bed. “One turkey Dagwood, coming up.”

Angela’s smile widened when her shameless ploy to rope Topanga into making the ten-inch high, mega sandwich prevailed.

The two girls headed down the hall to the back stairs that led to the Moore’s galley style kitchen. Neither said anything more about Shawn or Cory as they gathered the ingredients necessary for constructing a first class Dagwood sandwich. For the rest of the evening, until Topanga went home, they ate and then worked on their respective homework assignments. However, every time the phone rang, Angela was reminded that her present quandary could be avoided for only so long. Tomorrow would bring with it either a new beginning or certain end. Only this time, Angela wasn’t entirely sure, for the first time since she and Shawn had begun dating exclusively, exactly which outcome she wanted.

~*~ 

Dana Pruitt set the phone down with a soft smile of hope curving her lips. A very interesting rumor was making the rounds. By tomorrow, everyone in John Adams High would know that Shawn Hunter and Angela Moore had broken up. Popular opinion attributed the break up to her. Even as a little frisson of excitement shot down her spine, Dana remembered Shawn’s adamant assertion that he loved Angela. Still, before they’d left the boathouse, he had said to Angela that he wanted to change their relationship and be friends. That wasn’t exactly what you told the person you were in love with, Dana thought happily. On tomorrow, she would make her move. She’d never dreamed that she might possibly have another chance with Shawn. It hadn’t been until dumb Jennifer Bassett and even dumber Libby Anderson had decided to teach Shawn a lesson that the idea had even occurred to her.

She collapsed upon her bed writhing with laughter. Shawn had never been the least interested in either of them. Dana was certain that she and Angela had been the only girlfriends to whom he’d ever given his heart. However, in her own case, she recollected, the laughter dying on her lips, it had been briefly bestowed and much too quickly snatched away. When Shawn broke up with her, she had still been in love with him. Now, after the Valentine’s Day caper, Dana acknowledged that she still had major feelings for him. She only hoped that deep down maybe Shawn had discovered that he, too, had never really gotten over her and had broken up with her prematurely.

Her mind wandered to Angela and even though she regretted having to cause another girl pain, she didn’t regret it enough to give up her shot at getting Shawn back. Just the thought of being with him again made her feel all tingling inside. She stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom dreamily. Instead of Angela, it would be her books he carried in between their classes; her who would sit with him in the senior corner and at Chubbie’s making out and whispering sweet nothings to each other; and she would be the one whom he told everyone he loved. She admitted now how she’d resented seeing them together especially when they were making out. Shawn running his hands over and through Angela’s dark curls, holding her face to his as he kissed her. He was a very hands-on type of guy. She remembered how he had been with her, but she’d been too shy to engage in those types of open mouthed kisses that she’d witnessed them sharing. Dana sighed with regret before shaking it off. She would have another chance, and this time she wouldn’t be so repressed in showing her emotions. Nor would she be so retiring on the morrow. She would let Shawn know in no uncertain terms that she wanted to be his girlfriend again. And after what she’d just been told by one of her friends, she was hopeful that she would be successful. Feeling sufficiently ruthless, Dana smiled with satisfaction. Angela Moore wouldn’t know what had hit her. She was a rival that had to be removed. It was as simple as that.

While both Jennifer and Libby had made it plain, when no one else was around, that although they liked Angela as a person, they deeply resented Shawn preferring a black girl to them: two spoiled, blonde princesses. Dana was contemptuous of their bigotry. For her part, she didn’t want any other girl to have Shawn, if she could help it, and it didn’t matter what the complexion of her skin was either. To her, Angela was just an obstacle in her way, and now thanks to the harebrained scheme of her kidnapping accomplices, she was going to win Shawn back. Whether he knew it or not.