Five Times Annie Didn't Text Jeff (And One Time She Did)
Title: Five Times Annie Didn't Text Jeff (And One Time She Did)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2500
Spoilers: All aired episodes
Disclaimer: Don't own it.
A/N: This is my first attempt at a "Five Times" fic and I'm pretty nervous about it. So I'd love to hear feedback--good and bad--on how I handled the format. Big thanks to funkiechick for the beta! I did some last-minute editing, so all mistakes are mine, not hers. Enjoy!
Five Times Annie Didn’t Text Jeff (And One Time She Did)
Sept. 8, 2009
Annie’s thumb hovered over the "send" button on her cell as she mentally fought with herself over whether or not to press. It was no big deal, she reasoned. So she was just sending him a text about how excited she was about the study group and that she'd gladly take charge in organizing any group projects and how she'd already made everyone copies of the first week's worth of notes and she would be more than happy to be Lead Note Taker for the group and, and ... I mean. What was the harm in that?
Letting out a heavy sigh, her eyes scanned through the text again. She didn't want to come across as too desperate-to-please or anal-retentive-promised herself things would be different for her now, post-rehab, than they were in high school. Standing in front of her mirror the morning of the first day of school, Annie repeated over and over how college would be different. How she would be more relaxed and easygoing. How she wouldn't make the mistakes she did in high school.
Sighing again, she moved her thumb over the delete button instead. She could just tell Jeff Winger-the group, she amended-all this tomorrow at school.
Save to Drafts?
Well ...
It couldn't hurt.
*************************************
May 29, 2010
First Draft
Hi, Jeff! How's your summer so far? Can we meet sometime soon for coffee or something? I think we should talk about what happened outside the dance last night. I just want to know what your thoughts are and how you're feeling about what happened. OK, I hope? Let me know when you're free! xoxo Annie :)
Second Draft
Hey, Jeff. I was thinking we should probably meet and talk about what happened last week. Are you free for coffee? I can work around your schedule. Just let me know. Thanks!!! Annie :)
Third Draft
Jeff, can we meet for coffee? We should probably talk about what happened outside the dance, right? I mean, it's kind of a big deal. I just don't want there to be any weirdness between us when school starts in the fall. Text or call me back and let me know when you're free! Thanks, Annie.
With each revision, her anger mounted as her fingers became more direct, more demanding. Annie’s anger towards Jeff created a confidence that allowed her to cut the perfunctory pleasantries and get to the point-they needed to talk about what happened. She couldn't sit around all summer in limbo, waiting for him to acknowledge her. And it should be him, she rationalized. He was the one who walked away. He was the one who left her standing there with some quick, mumbled speech about "mistake" and "forget" before stiffly walking away, arms tight at his sides and shoulders hunched. Left her standing there as useless as the pink luggage at her side with no ride home.
Fourth Draft
Can we meet? We need to talk about the kiss. There's a coffee shop around the corner from campus. Or wherever you want, but we need to talk about what happened. Text me back, please.
Annie sighed as she deleted her fourth (and final, she told herself) draft. It had now been a month since their kiss and suddenly Annie was furious with Jeff. Here she was, composing message after carefully worded message not knowing what to say to him and he'd not even contacted her yet (she ignored the fact that she hadn't contacted him either, technically). But he probably wasn't even worrying about it the way she was, drafting painstakingly composed text messages before chickening out and deleting them. He probably wasn't worrying about it in a way that woke him up at night, reaching frantically for his phone, hearing phantom rings.
Putting her cell down, she walked to the other side of her crappy studio apartment. She wasn't going to be the one to make first contact. He could call or text her first-or not-it's not like she really cared. She would be too busy living in the moment to worry about whether or not Jeff Winger was thinking about her and the amazing, perfect kiss they shared under the stars like characters out of some romance novel (not that Annie even read those kinds of books).
That argument got her through the next week, until she was back to staring at her phone begging it to make any kind of sound. She sighed, hating herself a little, as she picked up her phone and tapped it to life, bringing up the text screen. Fifth draft ...
*************************************
April 21, 2011
Angrily keying into her apartment, Annie slammed the door behind her with more force than necessary, the loud crash it made against the frame doing little to alleviate her current disposition. She marched to the couch and threw herself down against the cushions, huffing loudly as she crossed her arms and frowned at her coffee table like it'd harmed her in some way. Technically, she was frowning at her coffee table, but she was really frowning at Jeff and the way he could make her feel like a little teenage girl with a silly, unrequited crush. Like the “Annie of It All” was all in her head. It had taken all her strength and self-control to remain composed in the study room and act like everything was A-OK, but now that she was home she could scream and throw things and curse Jeff's stupid pointy nose and huge forehead till her neighbors complained about the noise (like they would though, because they were probably stoned out of their minds right now. She really needed to find a new apartment). But that's not the point. The point was that she was so angry with Jeff that she couldn't see straight. Or that could be the tears that had started to gather, welling up in her thick eyelashes before rolling down her cheeks.
Her phone beeped indicating she'd received a text. Scrubbing the back of one hand across her eyes, she grabbed her cell out of the front pocket of her skirt with the other. Looking at the screen she huffed again, brow creasing as her bad mood worsened. It was from Jeff, and her immediate desire was to hurl her phone against the wall as hard as she could. But that would most likely result in a broken phone and she was too cash-strapped to justify destroying the inanimate object of her current rage, no matter how temporarily good it would make her feel. Catharsis was overrated.
With throwing her phone against the wall rejected as a way of dealing with Jeff's message, she was left with either deleting it without reading it or seeing what he had to say. Ninety-nine percent of her was in favor of deleting it straight away, but that stupid one percent betrayed a flutter of hope that it was an apology. An acknowledgement that their looks and touches and kisses and glances did mean something, and he was just too scared to admit it in front of the group. But what if it wasn't? Could she handle a second, private, somehow even more painful, rejection? All in one day? She declared that to be a firm “no” and deleted the message without opening it.
Instead, she called Shirley. Because what she needed right then was a smile, a hug, and to eat her weight in baked goods.
Screw Jeff Winger.
*************************************
October 20, 2012
"UGH! He can just be such an enormous jerk sometimes, you know?" She threw one of Britta's accent pillows at the couch her blonde friend was currently occupying. Britta's couch. Because Annie had stormed over to vent after she and Jeff had their first fight. Well, first fight as a couple. Official couple. Depending on how you defined their relationship.
"Yes, Annie. I know," Britta replied calmly, masking her amusement at the state her friend was in. "That's what you get when you date Jeff Winger. He's a douchbag, and a tool and a selfish asshole."
Annie shot Britta a frantic, wide-eyed look as she sputtered wordlessly. She began pacing furiously around her friend's tiny living room. What the hell? Britta was supposed to be making her feel better. She should have gone to Shirley's. At least there she would have gotten a brownie or a cupcake or something, if not the reassurance she wanted to hear.
"He's all those things," Britta continued, trying to catch Annie's eye as she wore a hole in Britta's secondhand area rug. "But he's also sweet," Britta scrunched up her face as if the word left a bitter taste in her mouth, "when he wants to be that is, especially with you." Annie stopped and faced the blonde, focusing on her as her breathing returned to a more reasonable level. "The way he looks at you, Annie? It's disgusting actually. We all see it. You know he's completely in love with you, right?"
Annie was almost knocked backwards by the blunt delivery of the powerful statement.
"Well then why-"
"Because he's Jeff Winger," Britta cut her off. "He's got the emotional maturity of a toddler and more childhood issues than the Tatum O'Neal."
Annie breathed deeply and took a seat next to Britta. The blonde grabbed her hand and gave it a little squeeze before continuing.
"Look, dating Jeff ... you take the good with the bad. You have to understand that-and accept it," here she gave Annie a pointed look as the young woman rolled her eyes, but then nodded in understanding, "otherwise you two will never be able to make this work."
"You're right. Maybe I overreacted just a little bit," here Britta smirked, "but he was in the wrong, too!" Annie quickly defended. "But I shouldn't have just stormed out in the middle of our fight. That wasn't right. I need to text him that I'm sorry and I'm coming over." Annie reached for her purse but Britta's hand on her wrist stopped her.
"No. Don't text it. This was your first major fight as a couple. You need to just show up at his place and say everything to him in person. Trust me, it'll be better." Britta gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her hand again.
"You're right." Annie threw her arms around her friend, hugging her tightly. "Thanks, Britta. I'm so glad I came over. Thank you for everything."
"No probs, Bobs. That's what I'm here for."
Britta walked Annie to the door, but the brunette suddenly whirled around in panic as a thought struck her.
"Wait! What if he's not home? I mean, I came over here, so what if he's out at a bar with Troy or something?"
"He's not with Troy," Britta said quickly and without thought. "I mean ..." she struggled to regain her composure as Annie stared at her with a confused, curious look. "I just mean that he's probably not with Troy ... or anyone for that matter. You know what Jeff's like when he's upset. He's probably at home on his third glass of scotch with the lights off throwing himself his own misguided pity party."
Frowning at the thought, Annie rushed to give her friend a quick squeeze before she scurried out the door as fast as she could.
Just as Britta locked the front door, Troy stumbled out of her bedroom wearing nothing but his favorite Spiderman boxers and one sock.
"OH MY GOD THAT WAS A CLOSE ONE!"
*************************************
June 8, 2013
Tilting her cap back off her forehead, Annie flipped the tassel out of her face. The black robe draping her form didn't breath at all and she was broiling in the hot June sun. The cheap material made her skin itch and she feared a rash and it was so Greendale she wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time. But it was hers.
Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she brought up the message screen to text him. God there was just so much she wanted, needed to say to him. It couldn't be expressed in a measly text. She knew that. She just wanted to meet him, hoping desperately he hadn't left campus yet for his reservation at Morty's Steakhouse.
She was halfway through composing her message when an alert popped on the screen informing her she had just received a text of her own.
From Jeff.
Her face split into a brilliant smile before she even pressed the screen to read the message.
Hey. U still on campus? I need to talk to u. Meet in study room?
She didn't even reply, just took off at a dead sprint for the library, her cap flying off and left forgotten in her wake, the smile never leaving her face.
*************************************
June 20, 2014
Don't forget to pick up your suit from the cleaners. They close at five. See you tomorrow! PS. I'll be the one in the white dress ;) Love you.
Pressing, "send,” Annie hummed happily, smiling to herself.
"ANNIE!" She jumped, startled out of her little bubble of contentment, dropping her phone onto her lap. "What did we say? No talking to Jeff the day before your wedding." Britta stalked over to her frowning and snatched the phone away. Jumping up, she tried reaching for it, but Britta was wearing her stripper boots (in June, seriously, Britta?) and was therefore taller than the brunette, keeping it out of reach.
"I wasn't talking to him," Annie whined. "I was texting him. Just one text. Texting doesn't count. Can I have my phone back, please?"
"No."
Annie pouted and crossed her arms, eyelashes fluttering.
"Don't even try it. The Disney Face doesn't work on me anymore."
Grumbling quietly, Annie turned large, wet eyes to her next victim. "Shirley?" she warbled, adding a trembling lip for good measure.
"Nuh-uh, girlie! Don't you use that trick on me. I'm not falling for it again. Last time you did that whole routine for a stick of gum! And anyway, we've still got lots to do to finish up your pre-wedding list. The guys are taking Jeff on his errands to keep him busy as well."
"Yeah, and we've still got a shi--crap ton to do," Britta looked away guiltily from Shirley's glare. "Seriously, Annie. This list is longer than the Great Wall of China."
"We could split up and get it done faster," Annie suggested hopefully, but trying not to sound too eager.
"No way," Britta scoffed. "You'd just sneak off to see Jeff."
"Come on you two. Let's hustle and get this all done. Annie, you're spending the night at my house and you need a good night's sleep. Big day tomorrow," Shirley cooed excitedly.
"Besides, it won't kill you to take one day off from Jeff. I mean … you have the rest of your lives to talk to each other."
Linking arms with her two best friends, Annie led the threesome towards Shirley's van, a spring in her step as she smiled brightly at the truth of that statement.