Aria could not let this thing die, which I so wish it hurry up and do. But I knew if she was kept within my company, my life would never even begin to fade back into normality- because she's a bitch that way; so I have taken to completely blocking her out. For the time being anyway. I've been avoiding her calls and her presence. As if she were spam in my hotmail box. It's harder to do this at school because she's freakin a tyrant, but I manage somehow. When I'm not forced into being around people, which is what school does, I avoid them. Entirely. Instead I've been spending time with my other friend Morgan. Captain Morgan. Yes, you add a little cappie to some dark soft-drink, preferably coke and no one is any the wiser. I can sip on soda all day long laced with spiced rum and no one will have a clue. Usually, I don't drink this much, I really don't. Really. But lately, I've found that it's the only thing that calms me and I've needed something calming. So I'll take it where I can get it.
My very hazy ability to discern a phone ringing from a knock on the door has been pricked again. It would make more sense to tell the difference between a ringing phone and a buzzing alarm clock, I know this, but my discerning ability is a little too liquored up to be that sharp.
I'm lying face down on my bed, my head swallowed by my pillow when this pricking occurs. Slowly I turn over and listen as a voice accompanies the knock and it takes a few more seconds—more like five minutes—to realize that that knock is on my very own bedroom door. Will you look at that. And like a nice human with no other choice should, I will go answer the door which I'm not sure was locked.
In my head standing seemed easy—easy as every other time I've stood. But when I actually rose from my mattress and onto my bare feet it was a whole 'nother story.
The world, for some reason currently unbeknownst to myself, has started spinning. Rather aggressively in fact. But hey-maybe, when you're dru—when you've been drinking…a few-ish, you become sensitive to the gravitational pull of the earth, that's what's going on with all the spinning. Yes. Mind you, I'm not drunk. If I was drunk this whole chapter would be a nice arrangement of letters and commas that would be pretty to look at yes—but would form no actual words whatsoever.
"Sammy." A voice from the other side of the-far away and impossible to get at-door, called.
I could feel words traveling from my mind, down to my stomach and up my throat with the natural desire exit out of my mouth, as is the way of talking—and there were a lot of them. Words. But as they got passed my tongue, they all tripped over my bottom row of teeth and died. Leaving only one of the letters from every individual thought to come together and rush past my lips.
"Huwhazit?" And I would hardly call that a word.
A sigh was the other person's response, a rather loud one if I was able to hear it all the way over here in-Canada. Then I noticed the jiggle of the door knob and since I had failed to lock that damn thing, now that I finally remembered (too late), it opened. After blinking hard, the almost blurry person came into focus. My attention was drawn to his green shirt because—it was just so green. Like rainforesty green. The color was hurting my eyes yet it was so pretty.
"Sammy," Derek said my name in a very low voice after closing the door behind himself.
"That's my name, don't wear it out or you'll have to buy me a new one." I might have giggled when I said this.
Another loud sigh followed by the shuffle of feet, none of which were my own actions, sounded all around me, bouncing off the walls it seemed. See, alcohol does sharpen your senses. Remind me to write a thank you note to Captain Morgan and his scurvy crew, who include, Jack and Mr. Walker Black, for embodying me with Herculean like wits.
"Yes Dairy?" I might have giggled again. Suddenly, I'm just so funny.
"Are you drunk?"
"No. Why do you ask?" I replied innocently, mocking one of Aria's tones. I knew that girl was good for something.
Derek then reached down and picked something up off of the ground. "Then, why is this bottle of rum almost empty?" He asked, holding the glass bottle inches away from my face.
"I have no idea how that escaped dad's liquor cabinet and traveled up the stairs Dairy, I swear to you. I swear—" My voice broke and gave way to giggling yet again. I'm just so damned funny, I tell you.
Seeing that there was just no talking to me—right now—Derek stood, bottle in hand and left my room. I waved after them, even after the door opened and closed, and I was alone. "Goodbye Derek, goodbye Cappie." I managed to mutter through a yawn. See you when I'm sober. And with that, I rested my aching body onto my soothing mattress, letting my head be swallowed by my pillow once again. Soon after, I was off in la-la land. Dreaming of god knows what.
My eyes can open to the sound of water against my window. And right away I noticed that my room had changed from light to shadow. How long had I been out? Not long enough I soon discovered as I was quickly introduced to Mr. Throbbing Head and Sir Wobbly Legs as I headed across the hall, toward the bathroom to wash my face and piss like a race horse.
After loudly relieving myself (hopefully in the bowl) and washing my hands and face, I carefully headed downstairs, my moist hand grappling the banister as if my life depended on its sturdiness. I found myself heading for the usual place—the entertainment room—where the liquor cabinet was. I didn't mean to go that way but it was a place so routine to visit that it' become part of my circuitry. Like when I go to call Derek or someone else on my cell phone and dial Aria by accident. It's just so common that I do it without thinking anymore. Which someone might call a serious problem, seeing is how I'm seventeen but of course, I'm not going to think about that. Instead, I'll think about how I'm going the wrong way. Catching my steps and waking up to my intent, I changed direction, re-routing myself towards the kitchen.
My body was screaming for milk. I don't know why but after I drink I usually crave the stuff. So I zeroed in on the stainless steel refrigerator at the center of the kitchen. I wasn't used to the new eye-sore yet because of its massive size. It was huge and scary like a big buzzing Java the Hut. In fact, if my mother wanted, she could chop me, Derek and Dad up into little pieces and stick all three of our bodies into the freezer and there'd still be room left over to fit in a tub of ice cream and a giant turkey. Hm. Pleasant thoughts occupy my mind in my waking hours, don't they? It's no wonder I tend to spend my waking hours soaked in booze.
And of course, there's no milk in the cold abyss that is the fridge. I should have known.
"If you're looking for bread then it's in the breadbox on the counter next to the sink."
I stepped away from the refrigerator, after slamming its chamber, door to see Derek sitting at one of our many uncomfortable kitchen barstools. When did he get here? I vaguely remember someone talking to me earlier...and wearing a rain forest..? Hm. Yeah. Must have been a dream.
"What are you doing home?" I asked as I moved to sit beside him at the island located in the middle of the kitchen.
"What I can't come home now?"
"That's not what I said."
"But that's what you meant."
Why do all the people in my life have to make it difficult?
I stretched my arms out over the counter top, its cold surface just felt awesome on my skin, and rested my cheek against it, closing my eyes. I let a smile run across my face before my attention went back to my brother who, after five seconds, I was officially annoyed by. A new record for him.
"Go back to your dorm, you bastard."
"Aw, don't be that way," He gave me a good pat on the back, "You underage lush."
"You're one to talk."
"I don't drink the hard stuff as if it were my life blood."
"You were the one who taught me how to break into dad's cabinet and how to fill the bottles with water so that he would never be able to tell anyone was in them."
"So you're blaming your sickness on me?"
"Yes, and it's not a sickness. It's a leisure activity."
"How much do you drink now Sam?"
"Now you too." I grumbled, turning my face away from his worrying gaze.
"You sound like Aria."
"Ah, Aria, the girl with the boobs the size of country watermelons."
Was I really the only one to not notice her breasts?
"No, Aria, the girl who's been my best friend for some time now." But who I have currently disowned. Like I'm about to do with Derek.
"I thought I was your best friend."
"No, you're my older brother therefore making the position of my best friend impossible to attain."
"Brother's can be best friends."
"Why did you think I was looking for bread in the refrigerator?" I asked changing the subject. This best friend bit is an old one and could go on for hours, days even.
Derek simply shrugged. "I thought you were going to make toast."
"Why the hell did you think I wanted to make toast."
"Because toast is good for sobering up."
"What makes you think I'm not sober now?"
"The fact that you nearly polished off an entire bottle of rum. I had to go out and by a new bottle by the way; it was past the water limit. You owe me fifteen bucks."
"I never asked you to do that for me." I stated casually, turning back to look at him.
"You're so ungrateful. I don't know why I spend so much energy looking out for you the way I do."
"Because you failed to look out for the one before me." I flinched when I said it. I shouldn't have said that. Doesn't matter how morbid I am or how much time has passed, that subject will always be a subject untouchable by words.
I meant to apologize but I couldn't speak, unable to choose an apologizing phrase that would be the sincerest. So I just sat there, looking at my fingers as the silence between Derek and I became thicker, almost unbearable.
"Mom and dad aren't home, and it's raining out." He spoke first but he wasn't saying anything I didn't already know. He was just talking to fill the space my comment had left. I quietly sighed then, thankful that he didn't sound upset.
"I wanted milk."
I turned to face him again; his eyes seemed so tired suddenly. I did that. I know I did. "I was looking for milk—in the refrigerator."
"And did you find it."
"You still want it."
I shrugged. "I guess, yeah."
"Then, let's go," he reached out to lay a hand on top of my tousled hair and rubbed. Now I want to cry. I'm such an asshole.
"Thanks." I managed to say. I would have hugged him but I'm not good... with stuff like that.
It was raining so hard that the windshield wipers, even on the fastest setting, were doing no good. And Derek drives too fast as it is. So we couldn't go far, maybe only a few miles out of the way. The nearest store was past a crowded intersection and I wanted to live a few more years, so we went down quiet streets until we found a place that might sell milk.
Derek pulled his Mercedes into the parking lot of a seven/eleven and turned off the engine. He kept his stare straight ahead and with a long breath he spoke.
"I can't believe I'm at a seven/eleven."
I rolled my eyes out of sheer disgust. "Don't be such a snob Derek."
"I'm not a snob I've just never been to a—what is this? Convenience store, before."
"You've been to a gas station right."
"Well, it's like a gas station without the gas pumps, think of it like that." I couldn't believe that these words were coming out of my mouth. And this was an actual conversation I was having with another person, over the age of five. Usually my time would be spent ridiculing the ignorance that sometimes radiated from my OLDER brother, which our father's income has afforded him to maintain. But I needed to atone for what I said. So I decided to be nice to him for at least two hours straight.
"But I don't need any gas."
Yet he was making it so very hard to do so.
"Just come on." I said pushing the passenger side door open.
I was swallowed by the rain almost instantaneously but I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head anyway and ran towards the glass double doors to the store. I knew Derek would be trailing behind me like a lost lamb so I made sure to run fast. Really. Sometimes, I felt like I was the one watching out for him.
As soon as I was under the store's onning and away from the invasion of water, I noticed another hooded figure to my left. Actually, I noticed the leather jacket that the figure was wearing because it was one I saw everyday. And more recently found myself paying a lot of attention to, on account of its owner.
Sebastian stood next to the payphone wearing his usual clothes. A leather jacket, a pair of loose fitting jeans and Dock Martins; the only thing out of place was him wearing a hooded jacket underneath, which was explainable by the rain. But what wasn't quite clear was what he was doing on my side of town. Actually, a little out of my side of town considering we are at a seven/eleven.
Maybe it was the liquor still left in my system, but I found myself walking towards him as he continued to not notice me. Instead he was leaning against the wall of the store, a lit cigarette hanging lazily from his lips, his hands in his pockets. If I was attracted to males, I would say that he was looking especially hot right now. But I'm not so I won't say that.
I moved to his side, my stomach nearly touching his left arm, invading his space like Aria often did with me and I don't know why I was doing it.
"Hey." The word came out sounding casual to my own ears so I was relieved because all my muscles were beginning to tighten and again, I have know idea why.
"Is that your car?" He asked, the cigarette bobbing up and down with the motion of his mouth which I can't seem to stop looking at.
"No. It's his." I turned back to see Derek only inches away, watching the situation with amused eyes.
"Is he aware that he's parked in the middle of two parking spaces."
"I don't think he did it on purpose. It's raining and it's hard to see."
"Does he have a driver's license."
"Of course." Where was this conversation heading?
"Does he know how to reverse."
"That goes without saying." I seriously had no idea where he was leading me with this conversation. Did he want to borrow the car or something?
Sebastian then turned to me, taking the cigarette out of his mouth with one hand while leaning the other against the wall above my head. He edged his face so close to mine that I could smell the brand of cigarette he was smoking. Camels. Unfiltered.
"Then he should have seen that he was in the middle of two spaces, reversed and straightened into one. That's why there are bright yellow lines painted on the asphalt, so you can distinguish one parking space from another. It's inconsiderate, how he's parked right now."
Now he was invading my personal space. Only it didn't bother me like when Aria did it.
"Y-you have a valid point and I'll let him know that when I turn around." I was lucky to be speaking at all. Our noses were practically touching and his eyes were burning into mine, I thought maybe he had the intention to kiss me again. Which would be bad, very bad because my brother was right behind me... AND also bad because I don't want to be kissed by a guy. Yeah, that too. For…sure.
I think he was aware of my breathing and how it had dramatically changed from normal and steady to sporadic and shallow. Because suddenly he was smiling and edging even closer. Which I thought would be impossible, considering how close he was to me already.
"Is that guy over there, your boyfriend?" He whispered only loud enough for me to hear.
"N-no. He's my older broth—" My voice disappeared when he tilted his head in that familiar way people do when they're about to kiss you.
"Good. I was beginning to think that our kiss the other day meant nothing to you." His tone was undoubtedly teasing but I was entirely too aware of how his lips were now brushing up against mine and I still hadn't moved. I closed my eyes then, expecting for him to do it. To kiss me and my lips parted slightly in anticipation of his…
What the hell am I doing?
Quickly, I snapped back into reality, my eyes popping open before taking a quick jump backward, away from him. After my very dramatic evasive feat, I took a moment to survey his reaction to what just happened.
His head was turned towards the wall and I could tell that he was examining me but I could only see the side of his face. I quickly noticed his mouth and how his lips were turned up into a quiet smirk. It said "I know something you don't." And I wouldn't have doubted that for even a second.
Before I could speak, maybe ask him what he was doing over here, a car pulled up and a vivacious little red-head in a tube dress and cowboy boots popped out of the back seat. She didn't say anything, more like she was squealing nosily and she jumped under the onning and wrapped her arms around Sebastian's waist and planted an affectionate kiss on his cheek.
He turned and received her affection—in his mouth now—and I could feel an unfamiliar pang surging through the pit of my stomach. And I'm sure I didn't like it—or what it meant, the latter, especially.
"Hey baby." She continued to talk in an excited squeal. "I'm sorry I took so long but Corey needed to stop for gas first. And these rich folk's gas stations look like museums. Even this seven/eleven is so pretty!" She took a moment, unlatching herself from his body to step back and look at the store, getting a little wet in the process. "But what a waste of building material." She finished, returning to his side to nuzzle her face between his neck and collarbone. "I'm so cold baby. Let's go somewhere nice so you can warm me up. Maybe do that thing you do so well with your tongue-you know where, huh?"
It was then that she turned and decided to notice me.
"Who's this?" She asked, totally unfazed that she had just said something so intimate within earshot of another living soul.
"Sam." I answered; pretty sure that Sebastian didn't know me by name.
"Ah well, Sam, my name's Kristy—I'm Bash's bitch." She said playfully, extending a hand to introduce herself. Now she was going to be formal? Oh, it was way past menial introductions. First impressions have already been made and set in stone, my friend. Never to change—ever. Not as long as my memories are stored in my head. Maybe if I was drunk, but no. That wasn't the case right now. Too bad for her. For both of us, actually. But I carefully took her hand anyway, afraid of where it might have been, and shook, mine apathetic, hers sturdy like a man's.
"Are you one of the rich kids that lives around here?" She inquired as innocently as Aria would have. In fact, she clingy and obnoxiously loud and straightforward behavior rang true to Aria form. Were all girls just this way? Or maybe, she was a lesbian too. Suddenly I'm hoping she was. Why am I doing that?
"I live…near by yes."
"Awesome! Can we come over to your house sometime? Not right now though. I need some alone time with my man first." She paused to turn and kiss Sebastian on the cheek, at least that's what it could be relatively described as. In reality, it was more like she was treating his head like ice cream on a waffle cone on a hot summer's day. And there goes the pang again. I needed to get out of there.
"Right, well then, seeya." I turned, not wanting to see Sebastian's reaction to my reaction, at all. It was entirely too embarrassing but so was the fact that Derek was still standing there, mouth slightly agape yet amusement still saturating his stare. Why couldn't he have gone in without me? Surely he knew how to navigate inside of a store and pay a cashier with the money in his designer wallet.
"What the hell was that?" He asked as I pushed past him and into the store.
"Nothing." Which was kind of a lie.
"Okay then, who the hell were they?" He continued to needle at my nerve but I made an oath to be nice. So dammit I'm going to be nice.
"Kristy and Bash." I spoke as though I was familiar with both of them. I was kind of familiar with Sebastian but I wasn't about to get into that with a member of my family.
"How do you know them? From school?"
Just let this day and conversation end already.
"She's not but he is."
"I'm assuming then that he's a friend of yours, considering all the quiet whispering."
What was with his tone right then? Was Derek teasing me about something? Whatever. Right then I wasn't in a humoring kind of mood.
"Not really. He's just some guy I kind of know who likes to mess with my head." And that couldn't have been any truer.
As I entered the store I realized another truth. One that almost had me walking into the chip display just inside the store. But I played if off well.
"Great," I mumbled as I rounded past that stupid display. Suddenly milk wasn't what I wanted. But I'd never admit that aloud. There was no way I could. Ever. I blame Aria for the nose-dive my life has suddenly taken; I'll make sure to let her know how much I hate her tomorrow.
But for now I'm going into this seven/eleven to buy a liter of coke, then I will go home to my familiar place and pay another visit to my friend, Mr. Morgan. And maybe a few others from his scurvy crew.
A/N: 13 reviews for one chapter! Wuaaa! And a lot of familiar reviewers at that! I'm delirious with happiness. Running around, into walls and stuff. Seriously.
As stated in my info, chapter two posted before the coming of this night, the next one may come sooner than next week. This will be determined by you guys and your pong of feedback and reviews, which I live off of like an algae eater eats algae from a fish tank.
And I will thank you all by name this time because I love you so.
Thank you: dyers-eve, Losing Grip, Erin P, Digital Dream, Starlite Nightfall, Hitori-Hoshi, Esquirella, Alexandera-Delshay, rodeoclown, Immoral Beloved, rainbowskye, velvieb and KitsuneAkai13.
>>hugs you all
Now, off to work on The Wrong Way. (Anyone catch my Wrong Way references in this chapter? Heh)