vi. climax

The next point is the direct result of the critical choice, and it's called the climax. Chief likes that part, and not just because of the innuendo. The climax is the highest peak of tension of the story. It's the beginning of the end of the story.

One would assume that Abrielle's climax would involve confronting Chief with her feelings. The beauty of that sentence would again, not be lost on Chief.

Obviously, she doesn't admit her new found feelings the second she realizes she has them. Also, blurting that kind of thing completely drunk just screams disaster. And a little desperate. So she keeps her mouth shut, and she just fills it with more alcohol.

However, the next day, while nursing her hangover, Abrielle decides that there is no point in postponing the inevitable. She has to tell Chief. She has to tell him as soon as possible so they can figure out what they're supposed to do next. Getting her to move on or getting it on, whichever he thinks is best. She thinks that she can sort of already guess which option Shanahan is going to pick.

Unfortunately for the main character though, before she can confront him, Chief is out the door. He says he'll be out for a while, and not to wait up.

She practices in her head, over and over again what she's going to tell him.

Shanahan, we've known each other for ever, and I think that maybe I've taken for granted the fact that you're a man because you've always been there, but now I think I've realized it and my panties want us to do something about it...

Shanahan, I've tried going out with other people, but nobody seems to fit, nobody gets me the way you get me. So maybe that means you're the one for me...

Shanahan, put a baby in me...

Shanahan, let's face it, we're getting old. This is as good as it's ever going to get.

She keeps on thinking and over thinking and Chief doesn't come back in the afternoon. He doesn't get back for dinner. He misses the sunset and their weekly binge watching of Queer Eye. He doesn't come back when it's time for Abrielle to go to sleep.

ABC isn't sure if she's relived or disappointed that she missed her chance for that day. She goes to bed with that thought. She should have figured out what happens next though. She wakes up a couple of hours later because of the sound of doors closing a little too loudly and people speaking.

Chief is back. And he's not alone.

She doesn't cry. She just feels kind of empty. What was she thinking? That Chief was suddenly going to change his ways because she had an epiphany?

She hides her head under her pillow

Her door slowly opens and a head peeks in. "I seek asylum. I can't sleep with the concert beside my room," Ace says softly.

She comes out from underneath the pillow. "We can still hear the headboard here," she answers, just as softly. Someone ought to tell them there's no need to whisper. Shanahan is definitely not going to hear them.

"Yes, but you can't hear what they're saying. And trust me. You do not want to hear what they're saying."

Abrielle scooches to one side of the bed and Ace settles in beside her, lying on his stomach, his arms wrapped around one of ABC's pillows.

"It's a good thing you don't have any exams tomorrow," Abrielle tells me and yawns.

"If I had an exam tomorrow, I'd be in his room right now smothering the both of them."

"I'd help you hide the bodies afterwards."

"A murder pack has been sealed ladies and gentlemen," Duncan jokes and takes Abrielle's hand, cradling it against his chest.

Ace is a grabber. He grabs everything around him when he sleeps. She knows that very soon after slumber takes him he'll be hording the blankets and pillows and everything within his reach.

The only way to stop him from doing that is to grab his wrist. It's kind of like he needs the confirmation that someone is there, that he's not alone.

Abrielle's always found this both infuriating and adorable.

After a little while Chief's concerto stops. The house is silent again. Ace's soft breathing cadence tells her that he's asleep, still holding on to one of her hand.

She looks at him sleeping beside her.

In some way, he's always been beside her, silent but supporting her. He's got things figured out for himself. He gives her the kind of strength that only comes with stability. Chief is too often like a lost puppy. Ace can goof around, but he's not a lost puppy. He's not lost. And he's definitely not a puppy.

Chief often overshadows him because he's loud and likes to make a show. It's easy to dismiss Ace. It's easy to forget how lonely she would actually be without him.

She strokes of fingertips on his eyebrows with her free hand. She could trace his whole face all night long. But she's terrified of him waking up and having to explain what she's doing.

And she can't stop the new thought that forms, the new revelation.

It was Ace. She loves Ace.

But she kind of loves Chief too.

What is that supposed to mean?

So here our main character lies, beside a boy, even more confuse than before.