3Summary: My reason? Nothing big. I just thought it'd be fun to try and accept Veronica's offer for once in my life. To go to a popular boy's party and drink and dance and forget all about my worries for just one night. I had no idea what that one decision was about to do to me. I was about to find out the consequences to being a Party Animal. And dear god, trust me, it was not pretty.
Genre: Drama/Romance/Humor/Hurt-slash-Comfort
Warning: Femslash included, and language content.
Note: Your mother is trustworthy, except sometimes, when she's in the kitchen. Also did you know the oldest tree in history was named Robert? No, that's a lie.
Chapter Two
Dad grounded me. I'm not surprised. Two months. No going out with friends, with the exception of birthday parties. Also no electronics, including phones, but only for the first week. That's not too bad. I thought he'd be more upset than he actually was. But he took it quite well. I think after he saw my bruised lip, he got a little sympathetic. Dads don't like seeing their daughter bruised and beaten up. After he gave me an infuriatingly long lecture, he ordered (yeah, ordered) me to go up to my room to take a hot shower before getting ready to go to St. Marcus' Church. I won't get any sleep today. And sleep is the one thing I crave for every hour of every waking minute.
This is gonna be a long day.
After my shower, I quickly wipe my frizzy ginger hair dry, push it back with a hairband, and look through my closet for suitable clothing. I notice my usual Church clothes hanging from a green hanger by the corner of the closet. It's a pretty long pink dress, with flowers that drape from the shoulder to the bottom hem. But I can't possibly where that today, can I? We're doing community work. I'm only assuming we're gonna get somewhat dirty. Plus I'm gonna be surrounded by my high school acquaintances. They aren't exactly the cleanest people in the block. So I settle for a casual white T, a faded blue sweater and knee-lengthed boardshorts. Call me a nerd but comfortable boardshorts is the best piece of clothing the world has ever had to offer.
I put my clothes on, dry my hair thoroughly, comb through it (making sure to not let the comb get stuck in it this time) and wear my Cross necklace, before heading out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen, where mum and dad are lounging. They decided not to go back to sleep after I got home. They're pretty grouchy when they don't get enough sleep. But they know what I've been through, so they won't really nag at me this morning. Maybe tomorrow.
Before I reach the kitchen, I pass the mirror situated by the stairs. I pause in front of my reflection. The girl staring at back at me looks no different from the girl I always see in that mirror. Except today a few red marks mark her neck, and an ugly purple bruise is left by the corner of her lip, looking both badass and pathetic. I frown, and take a deep breath, and then wince. Wow, it does still hurt. I head to the kitchen, where dad offers me the slightest nod, and mum gives me my usual toast. Unfortunately, last night she didn't cook me any of her delicious delicacies. We ran out of cooking oil.
"You're not wearing your church dress." Dad notices it. Not weird. He's the one who buys me all my clothes, after all.
I sit down next to him and munch on my toast. "I didn't think it'd be appropriate."
"For Church?"
"For community service."
He thinks about it for a moment, before directing his gaze back to the newspaper in his hands.
Once I finish my toast, I kiss my dad and mum goodbye, like I always do, put on my old torn-up white sneakers, and race out of the house. My bicycle's parked at the usual spot. Next to the fence, chained onto it with a giant padlock. I fish out a key from my wallet and unlock it. Then I direct it out the gate, and ride my way down the road towards the direction of the Church.
The feeling of the wind whipping through my hair is breathtaking.
I pass the PD, giving it a small glance, before making my way further down the road towards St. Marcus' Church. My school's a little ways further down. But today's a Sunday. So at this time of morning, the road's clear, and the school's deserted. We have afternoon classes, but those are only for the weaker students.
Finally, I reach the Church. It's not a big Church. In fact, it's probably only quarter the size of my school. I park my bicycle by the signpost opposite the entrance, lock it onto the pole, and walk up to the tall, giant white doors. I see two figures standing by the stairs. Two familiar figures, one with his beanie pulled down over his eyes, and the other with a cigarette in her mouth. Art and Victoria. I approach them, and Victoria's the first to notice me.
She grins at me. "Lookie here. Scoots has finally arrived."
I glance at Art. He looks like he's asleep, so I turn my full attention to Victoria.
"What time did you get here?"
"I was here all morning. Since you ditched me back at the DP."
"You didn't go home?"
"Did I have to?"
"No. I just thought you'd need like, a bath or something."
She laughs. A husky tone. No doubt because of the smoking she's done. "I don't believe in the myth that you need to clean your body everyday. I'll do it after this whole thing is done and over with."
I don't want to point out the fact that she might smell like a hobo for the next few hours in fear of getting punched or slapped, so instead I sit on the stairs next to Art, and stare out at the roads. I look at my watch. 5.59AM. Where's our chaperone? And where're are Jesse and Jillian?
I watch as a cloud of smoke comes right up to my face, filling my nostrils with that horrid smell of nicotine, carbon dioxide, and tires. I wave my hand over it.
I turn to look at Victoria. She doesn't seem to notice my discomfort. "Could you not smoke please?"
She shoots me an amused smile. "A polite order."
"It wasn't an order. It was a request."
"And if I say no?"
I don't respond.
Seconds later, I see Victoria, from the corner of my eye, seperating the cigarette from her lips, dropping it onto the ground and stepping on it to kill the lit edge. She exhales slowly, and sits down beside me, looking either completely stoned or utterly exhausted. I vouch for a little of both.
"Thanks."
She licks her lips. "I didn't do it for you. The cigarette was getting short anyway."
I see two figures walking towards us. One half a head taller than the other. The taller one has dirty blonde hair cut short by the neck, with a slim lanky body and gorgeous blue eyes. The shorter one has a neat clean cut, with strands of platinum blonde hair sticking out the top of his neck, with a lean body and brown eyes. Jesse and Jillian. Jillian being the taller one. Jesse being the grumpier one. They both approach us. And once again, Jillian keeps her eyes on me. It's a little intimidating and undermining. I feel like I'm shrinking into the ground.
"Morning." Jillian says, smiling at us. I nod my head at her, and Art remains in his position with his beanie covering his eyes.
Jesse isn't as enthusiastic. He grumpily walks between Victoria and I to lean against the giant white doors.
"Let's get this over with."
"You shouldn't lean on the Church doors." Jillian says.
"Yeah? And why not? Is God gonna curse me for pressing my back against his unstained, beautiful doors?"
"Probably not. But you reek of alcohol and smoke, and the people coming to Church on this fine morning are gonna wonder why the entrance to this place smells like a horny teenager."
Jesse narrows his gaze, but pushes himself off. Jillian's logic does the trick. I have to admit, I find her brains quite the turn-on.
"Where's the cop anyways?"
A tall figure emerges from behind the Church. "Right here."
We all turn to him. He's the same guy from yesterday. Big, dark-skinned, muscular, and looking quite alert. Instead of the officer's uniform he wore yesterday, he's wearing a thin white T and dark jeans. He still has a badge on his shirt though, so officially he's still considered a part of the law reinforcement. He smiles thinly at us, looking as if it was forced, and nods.
"Let me explain something to you all." He circles us, so that he's standing directly in front of us. "This is community service. Which means this isn't some walk-in-the-park game. You're gonna help children. You're gonna save lives. And you're also gonna praise the Lord." He looks at Jesse. "Not that I'm forcing you to follow a destined religion. I just want you to believe in the power of God. And in the fact that life is not all alcohol and cigarettes and loud music."
Victoria laughs. Loudly. "Are you kidding? Life is shit without all those."
This girl obviously never heard of Pop Soda and the Little Mermaid.
"There are three people I'd like you to meet today. One of whom being my partner in crime. Sam. He's a young officer. Who's gone through what you're all going through right now." He looks at his watch. "He should be here anytime now."
"Um, Mr. Officer sir?"
His sharp gaze turns to me slowly, as if I had just interrupted him in a life-or-death speech.
"What's your name?"
"Earl."
"Earl?"
Jesse scoffs. "Serious?"
"No. My name's Wayne." He nods at me. "Wayne Williams. Assistant Chief of the New Jersey Police Department."
I cover my face with my hand. Assistant Chief? Bullocks.
"All right, Sam's here. He's a nice guy. Just don't try to cheat him. He's still a little naïve and inexperienced."
Something flashes in Jesse's brown eyes, but I choose to ignore it. The sound of a motor engine comes ehcoing through the streets, clear as a bell. Soon enough, a motorcycle pulls up front beside the signpost where my bicycle's parked. A lean, muscular, young looking man gets off. He's sporting a thick leather jacket, a blue T, and black cotton pants. When he takes off his helmet, he reveals his face. Gelled brown hair sticks up cleanly at the front, forehead bare, with the back smoothed down to his neck. Tanned skin with a refined face, matched with a nice set of light brown eyes, a straight nose and thin peach lips. He doesn't look a day older than 25. A young cop. Not rare. But a young good-looking cop? Quite rare indeed.
I turn my gaze slightly to the left. Anyone can clearly see how badly Victoria's vibing off on this guy. She's bitting her lip, staring, and giving off the weird aura girls give off when they're interested in someone. Like, really interested. I turn my gaze back to the young cop. He's nearing Wayne now, with a charming smile playing on his lips.
"Morning, Wayne."
"Morning, Sam. These are the kids I told you about."
"I see." He flashes us a smile. Victoria chuckles silently, and stares him up and down. The sight makes me think of a snake sizing a rat down. It terrifies me.
"Now, we have beanie boy, 6 footer, lip bruise, dixie boy and black top." He gestures to each one of us respectively. Sam doesn't comment on the nicknames, and instead nods his head like a tentative little boy.
Jesse raises his hand. "Why the hell am I Dixie boy?"
Wayne outright ignores him. He turns to Sam, says a few things to him in a hushed whisper, so that none of us are able to hear him, and shrugs. Sam nods, although he looks a little bit worried. Finally Wayne turns to us, waves and walks off. That leaves just us with Sam, who seems more nervous now that his partner's gone.
"Okay!" He claps his hands together. "Let's get started, shall we?"
"Sure," Victoria smirks. "I'll start at the bottom and you can come in from the top."
We all shoot her incredulous looks. Even Art. Who's pulled the beanie from his eyes, and is once again, awake. I'm having a little trouble, after experiencing her personality, registering the fact that Victoria Jackman is the daughter to Nick Jackman, the famous singer songwriter of New Jersey, and is well-respected around the music community. But maybe the reason she's currently acting this way is because she's still slightly drunk and stoned. I turn my gaze back to Sam. He actually looks interested. Is he for real?
"Well, first thing's first. I'm gonna need names. And not the names Wayne assigned to you guys. Real names. Something that makes you guys sound like actual teenagers."
"Jesse."
"Jillian. And he's Art."
I swallow. "Ivy."
Victoria winks at him, before purring out a soft and wistful, "Victoria."
Sam nods, acknowledging Victoria's sultry wink (ewzies!), and gestures to the garden behind him. I don't think anyone's really noticed it until now. I have though. Considering I come here every Friday and Sunday, my attention always seem to waver to that particular mini-garden enclosed on a 12 ft. pavement. It would've been beautiful. A great eden for those who come to worship the Lord. But because of lazy maintenance and lack of interest, the crops, flowers and grass have all but withered and died. Now it's just a faded shade of green, accompanied with a few dots of grey-purple or grey-pink. I don't need to wonder hard to know what Sam's thinking. We're gonna clean the garden up. Pluck some weeds, cut the grass, plant in new flowers or fruit bushes. Basically just house gardening. And the thought excites me.
I can't say the same for the rest of them though. I take a look to my right, where Jillian nonchalantly searches her fingernails, and Art's kicking a pebble with the edge of his shoe, and to my left, where both Victoria and Jesse look at the brink of falling asleep. Besides staring at Sam, Victoria looks otherwise asleep already.
"Are we gonna clean it up?" I ask, even though I already know the answer. My voice, for the first time since they met me, has a clear ring of enthusiasm to it. Victoria turns to me slightly, face impassive and nonchalant. I can just barely see Jillian's seductive smirk from my right, but I choose to ignore it in fear of blushing at full force.
Sam smiles. "Yes, we are. You garden much?"
"Most times. With my mum and sister. The women in the house always do the house work."
"So you know what to do then?"
I glance at the dead garden. "Oh yeah, definitely."
Sam seems glad at this. Probably because he doesn't know what to do.
"Alright then. Let's get started!" He claps again. Just once. And the five of us are forced to get up.
Gardening is an easy job for me. I do it twice every month. And when I do do it, I always have fun doing it. But maybe that's because I'm doing it with my mum and my little sister. Maybe that's the fun of it all. Maybe doing it with this bunch is just going to be agonizing, pressuring and frustrating. There's a high chance that may be so. Yet that doesn't seem to be the case. I grab the rake leaning on the pillar by the Church, and start raking away the dried leaves and dead flowers, feeling my own consciousness float away with the sense of serenity taking over me. I've always felt calm gardening. I look up slightly. The rest aren't having as much fun it seems. Victoria and Jesse especially, who look about ready to drop dead onto the ground and roll around and just lie dead. I don't blame them. We had a tough night.
After we've raked away the leaves, I put the rake aside, and pick up the gardening gloves. The next half an hour was spent plucking out weeds, digging up tiny holes and planting new seeds for the new flowers to bloom. We even watered the garden to keep the soil, which had gone dry, moist. Jillian found this task especially soothing. She was humming a familiar song all the way through. Finally, about an hour and a half later, we finish.
Jesse and Victoria are the first to collapse on the Church stairs. Not that any of us are surprised.
"That was good work!" Sam says, looking bright and chipper. He didn't do anything besides watch us work and give Victoria the occasional glances.
"What's next?" Jillian asks, placing the garden gloves onto the ground next to the rakes.
Sam thinks about it for a few moments. "I think Wayne's supposed to come back. He just told me to clean the garden up. Nothing beyond that." He checks his phone, and then checks the driveway, and then back to his phone. "I think I'll give him a call."
Once he's out of earshot, I sit down heavily on the stairs and breathe out a sigh of relief. That wasn't so bad. I like gardening, for one. And even though my body's starting to get heavier by the minute, I can probably pull through until noon. Someone sits down beside me. Someone tall. Someone who likes flashing me seductive smiles. Someone who, from what I've gathered, is clearly confident and unwavering in her conquest to make me feel strange inside.
"Hey." Jillian smiles.
"Hi." I smile back.
"You're a good gardener."
Well that clearly killed my already-depleted ego. "Um, thanks?"
"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. I meant to say you have skills. You're good with nature."
I laugh a little nervously. "No, I'm just... I just garden a lot. It has nothing to do with skill or anything like that."
"When a waiter manages to balance a dozen different drinks on top of one tray, you can't just say he 'waits' a lot."
I'm at a loss for wards. "Thanks."
She smiles warmly. "You're welcome."
Before she can dive deeper into conversation and make me feel even more nervous than I already do, Sam comes back, with his phone still at hand. He smiles at us.
"Guess who's going to help clean up Little Shakers Orphanage?"
Who's all in for femslash action? I am!
God knows it's hard for me to write a story containing no yuri. It's not impossible, but it certainly isn't easy.
-K