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I’m not sure who said it, just as I’m not sure exactly how long it’s been since the bottle landed on me. For all I know, I’ve been standing here for a lifetime, the party has ended, and the world is on the verge of collapse hundreds of years in the future. All I know is that someone had said “seven minutes in heaven” and spun the glass bottle at the center of our circle, and it had landed on me. Not only had it landed on me, but it had, upon the second spin, landed on the only person I’d even want it to land on. The red-headed boy I’ve been wanting this opportunity with since childhood: Phineas Flynn-Fletcher.
Perhaps when I was younger this would’ve excited me, though I wouldn’t have known what it meant, of course. I wouldn’t have understood the ramifications of being locked in a closet with someone, much less under the expectations that come with this game. I would have dragged him to the closet and slammed the door, excited for a chance to spend some alone time with him, even if that time amounted to no more than just over a few hundred seconds.
Here and now, however, I think I may actually be frozen. I can’t remember who eagerly shoved us towards the door and locked it–probably Adyson–but they did. So I find myself locked in a closet. A too-tight, barely enough room for two people to breathe comfortably, low-lit closet. With Phineas.
I’m sure our expressions mirror each other’s. He’s standing in front of me–way, way too close, I notice–with wide eyes and mouth slightly ajar. He’s beautiful, and I know it’s not just because of the lighting, or the atmosphere, or my feelings. Against my will I find myself focusing on how close we actually are, how clearly I can see the freckles across his face, the way his orange hair is messy and falling just above his eyes because he never has the time to style it, the way his lips are parted and how soft they look. I’m afraid to speak, and suddenly I realize that we just might spend the entire time here staring at each other wondering what we’re supposed to do.
“Um, so,” he breaks the spell slightly, blinking but not breaking eye contact, “what do we do now?” His voice is tight and neither of us moves.
I turn my head to the side, finally out of my stupor. I let out an uncomfortable laugh, more of a huff than anything, and resign myself to the fact that this isn’t going to change anything. A few minutes stuck in a closet with someone isn’t going to suddenly resolve years of unrequited pining. He’s obviously uncomfortable, and I don’t want to make that any worse.
“We can just hang out here for a while,” I say, looking back at him. “I’m sure they weren’t expecting anything, anyways, we just needed our ‘Plan a Party’ patch. It’s not like they’re gonna check in on us.”
“Yeah,” his eyes shift to the side, and there’s something in his tone that I don’t know how to read. “They’re not, are they?” He takes a deep breath and lets out another laugh. “I know I’m usually one for dramatics and flair, but I’m glad to be away from the party, even for a while. The lights and music were all getting to be a bit much if I’m honest. And–” he pauses, and I think I see a blush across his cheeks.
“And?”
“And, if I had to be stuck in here with anyone, I’m glad it’s you.” He smiles and my breath catches in my throat.
I blink at him, unable to do anything more. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest and heat spreading across my face and neck. He can’t mean what I think he means, right? We’re friends, he’s made that clear. The room suddenly feels too small and the only thing I can see is him.
“Phineas?” I ask, my voice soft and hesitant, barely above a whisper. I’d given up on any hope of him returning my feelings, buried them so deep in my mind that I begin to panic. I want him to say something, to give me an out so I can stop feeling like I need to run and hide. I don’t want to hope again, it hurt so much to let go of it the first time. I can’t think, and I search his face for some type of answer. I can barely hear what he says over the ringing in my ears, but he seems to notice my state of being and his smile turns into a look of concern.
“I-, no, I didn’t mean–” he stammers out, his hands coming up automatically as if he can placate the situation by doing so. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.” He steps back as much as possible in the small room, exiting a space that I hadn’t noticed he was intentionally taking up.
“No! No, you didn’t. I just, I, what did you mean?” And against every ounce of better judgment in my body, I let that old hope back in, just a little bit, and I feel the universe still around us as I wait for a response.
He relaxes slightly at my reassurance, though he still looks…scared? “I meant,” he pauses, and after a second of hesitation, tentatively grabs my hand. His palms are rough and calloused from all the building and creating he still does, but they’re warm and grounding, and my panic starts to ease, though my heartbeat doesn’t slow down at all. “I meant that I’m glad to be in here with you, Isabella, even if it’s just for a silly game. I, I like being close to you like this.”
We’ve been friends for such a long time. I’ve seen every emotion he’s felt, every stage Phineas has gone through. I fell in love a long time ago with a curious, eager, confident boy who included me in his adventures and discoveries. I’ve seen him unsure before, but knowing that here, in this moment, it’s because of me, I want to do anything I can to stop it.
“Phineas?” I whisper again, this time looking him in the eyes. “I like being here with you, too.”
He smiles, and he’s so bright and vibrant that I decide that a lifetime’s worth of waiting and wanting is worth throwing away with the risk I’m about to take, if it means there’s a chance at holding onto that look. Before I can stop myself, I look down at his lips and lean in slightly. I don’t move all the way, I want him to be able to back out and say no if I’m reading the situation wrong. I hope I’m not reading the situation wrong. I don’t know what I’ll do if I am, I’m not sure how much of me is capable of breaking like that again and coming back, but he doesn’t move away. He closes the gap between us and presses his lips against mine.
How long I’ve dreamed about this, I can’t say. But I never pictured we’d end up like this, kissing in a dusty old closet with our friends right outside the door. It’s nothing like the passionate, wrapping-up-years-worth-of-pining kiss I imagined it would be, but I couldn’t care less. It’s soft and slow and everything I could ever want. He grabs my waist to pull me closer to him. His lips are smooth and he tastes vaguely like the sweet cake we had earlier and the strawberry chapstick he uses. His hair is fluffy underneath my hands and I feel his body against mine and I never could’ve imagined how right this would feel.
I pull away first and I can’t help but smile. As I open my eyes, I get a good look at this boy who’s had my heart for so long and I see that he’s smiling, too. His hair’s messier than it was before, and his pupils look beyond dilated, but his eyes are bright, even in this lighting. He looks disheveled and open and eager and so… Phineas that all I wanted to do was stay in there and have him look at me like that forever.
I lean my forehead against his. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Wanted you,” I say in a whisper, because this moment feels too unreal, too fragile, and if I talk too loudly I think it may shatter like glass.
He pulls me in closer and we stand like that for some time, just letting ourselves be close together. At some point I know it’s been longer than seven minutes, and I’m sure he does too, but nobody comes, and I’m perfectly content with that. The closet is long enough to allow us both to sit down, though not wide enough to give us room to be very far apart while doing so, and so we do. I rest my head in his shoulders.
As we hear the party settle down around us, I know everyone’s getting ready to turn in for the night. We stay there for some time, and I hear him say something about having tomorrow and forever to make up for the time we didn’t get, but no promise of the future could stand against this moment. I let myself fall asleep there, surrounded by the security and warmth that I’ve craved for so long.