This is the sequel to Not Just Like You. Its going to be more than one chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own. I hope you enjoy.
Jondy rolled over in bed, jumbled up in her blankets, the whole room was dark, and quiet, until the alarm on the small dresser, beeped its alarm of 7:00 pm; in big orange neon letters.
Oh how those numbers at the moment annoyed her to no end.
"Rrrgh," she moaned aloud, rolling onto her back, and putting a hand over her eyes, and forehead. There was no light, but it was nice to feel a cold hand on her warm forehead.
Her eyes remained closed, and her head on the pillow. The clock continued to beep its annoying tune.
"Stupid shit," she grumbled aloud, and reaching out, she knocked it right off the dresser. The cord, following right after it, like a snake coil, was ripped right out of the wall.
It may have been broken, but at least it stopped.
Now, she rolled onto her stomach, and reached down onto the floor where her cellular phone was.
Her hand swept the floor; wherever it was, she couldn't find it like that. She shifted a little more off the bed, and was able to look underneath at the object under the dark bed. Reaching for it, she was not close enough, and couldn't grab it, but trying to get back up, she went over the edge, and fell out of bed. She fell right onto the floor. She reached under the bed, and came back out with one of the black socks she left on the floor, from when she arrived back at her apartment three that afternoon. Feeling tired, which she was shocked to be feeling, with what, sleeping last night, she got into bed, and had a nap. Now though, sitting on the floor, in the dark, with the sock in her hand, she felt very tired, and wanted to just crawl back into the bed she just fell out of, and sleep some more.
Plus, she was feeling horrible. She didn't want to think she was getting sick, because she wasn't supposed to. They weren't supposed to. That's the way they were made. But, they were all made with flaws so maybe that was hers. She didn't know. On and off again, she was always having some kind of problem. Most of them were difficult on her system, and most made her lay in bed anyways, but something so simple, like maybe a cold, she never had one before, so it could be anything.
The closest person to her, her work mate, at the bar, when she gets a cold, acts like the whole worlds got to stop until she gets better. She 'bitches and moans' about a runny nose, and foggy head, sneezes all over everything, and eats too many cough drops, and leaves the wrappers all over the back room.
Jondy didn't want to be like that girl. Her name was Malady; like a greeting, but very fancy. She didn't want to be the one with the trail of cough drop wrappers leading behind her.
She didn't even like cough drops.
'Want am I thinking?' She thought to herself, standing up, sock in hand, and on her toes she rose up, bringing her arms upward, into a nice long, losing stretch; bringing her shirt up to show her belly. She set herself back down, and put the sock on the small night table.
Her phone rang, in the other room.
'So maybe I am getting sick, if I can't remember.' She wiped her nose on her sleeve, and dragged herself, on the cold bare floor, her bare feet, through the dark room, into the kitchen where her phone was sitting right on the stove, the small screen on it, bright blue in the dark room.
Upon closer expectation, the number wasn't shown at all, and instead it said Private Call. It could be anyone, and most likely it was someone of least importance's, though, it could be one of her brothers or sisters. She knew Zack's number, Zane's number, and Syl and Krit's number. Syl and Krit, they were such an item; she knew that they would always be together. Zack could try, as he mostly did, but they always found their way back to each other.
It was meant to be.
She picked up the phone, and put it to her ear.
"Hello?"
No one answered. The whole line was quiet.
The person hung up.
She took the phone away from her ear, and looked at the screen, like it would give her the answer she needed, but the screen just showed Call Ended 00:00:12.
She closed the set, and put it in the pocket to her jeans. The whole call, and no response, put her on end. What if it was one of Lydecker's men? What if they knew that she was here? What if-
She let out a loud sneeze, and groaned.
What if they knew that she was malfunctioning?
"I don't need this right now?" She spoke into the empty room. She rang her cold hands together. She had to call work, she sure wasn't going in with that call on the line, and the fact that she wasn't up with the weather. There was no use to go to work anyways; at least for tonight. She still had to go, to pay the bills. It was her civilian duty.
To skip work for the night, she wanted to with her own excuse. Oh course, she'd say differently, but she was mad from the previous night. Of the usual there, there was a whole bunch, from a sporting event, or something, but they were just the rowdy bunch, and they bothered Jondy. Trying to flirt, and drink, and fit in with the regulars, it was over-bearingly annoying. When one tried to put their hand on her that was it. Being a 'normal girl,' she shoved him away, hard, and asked for help from her boss, who happened to be there. All he did was tell her that she could handle it, and went into the back.
Yes, she could handle it, but her boss wouldn't like the way she wanted to. But, then again, she handled it in a way that he wouldn't like, anyways; the same way that got her arrested another time. Smashing two bottles, scattering the contents everywhere; on the counter and floor, she held up the pieces in a threatening matter.
They backed off, and her boss, stepped in. He had the nerve to tell her that she was way out of line. She wanted to let him have it, but being the 'good' employee, she 'apologized,' and walked out for the night.
Damn, she thought, a snap of the finger, I left my coat there.
She took her phone out again, and dialed Malady's number, not the work number.
"Jondy, hey girl, sorry about before," she spoke. She was known to talk, in long streams, without stopping. She said, "I was going to call you, to tell you that we don't need you-"
She let out the biggest breath of air, and her whole, calmed down.
"Tonight, and I know that you're still pissed about yesterday, and-"
"It's okay, thanks," She hung up. She put her phone back into her pocket.
It was such a relief to know that it was her and not someone ready to chop off her head. Now she could go back to bed.
Dragging herself back into the bedroom, she flipped onto the bed, and closed her eyes. Her head felt foggy, and her nose was running. She wiped it on her sleeve again. A comfortable night's sleep, just what the 'Manticore Tech' called for.
"Ha, ha," she spoke the reaction, because it was a joke; a very bad one, she might add at that. Yawning, she closed her eyes against the strong breeze coming from the opened bedroom window. Putting the blanket around her middle haphardously, she curled up on her side.
The air felt wonderful on her face. Blowing her hair around, she enjoyed the late spring night. It was the perfect kind of weather. If it kept up till the weekend, then it will be the perfect weather for the carnival that is coming to town. An old fashion carnival, with booths, and games, and even the 'Weird Peoples,' it sounded like loads of fun.
It would be nice if Zack happened to be visiting. She'd drag him there.
Right now, it was just a night to herself, a nice night to sleep, and-
She let out a loud sneeze.
-to get over the stupid cold, that she should not be having in the first place. Guess she had to be returned back to Manticore for testing.
She fell asleep.
The kitchen window creaked open slowly. She knew that it was Zack, because he always came through the kitchen window. He would then lower it, lock it, and shut the curtain.
She listened for it.
He did just that, but the curtain, tangled on the rod gave him a little trouble, but he got it, for him then she heard the sink running.
"Is that you Zack?" She said, not moving, for she was too comfortable, and she felt terrible. Luckily, it didn't sound in her voice.
He stopped what he was doing for a moment, then said, "Why aren't you at work?" questioned.
She heard him switch taps, and the snap of paper towel, after paper towel.
"I quit," she yielded, and coughed. She put her hand over her mouth, and snuggled deeper into the blankets. She heard him grumble, mumble, curse, and use up every paper towel on her roll.
"Something wrong?" she spoke. Everything was obvious; she just liked getting a kick out of him.
"No." He said through gritted teeth. She heard the tearing of material.
"Uh huh," she answered, not believing it at all. She sat up in bed, and took of her long sleeved shirt, leaving herself in the cami. Looking for the character pants, she wore around the house, she said, meant for him to hear, "Why do you always show up through my window hurt, or in need for rest? Can't you just stop by to see how I'm doing? Are you here to take me to the Carnival?" She found the pants, took off the jeans, and put them on, then went into the kitchen where he had his left arm, up to his elbow in the sink, and the water around it was bloody.
The rest of him didn't look to good either. His face was messed up as well, and where he ripped a chunk out of his shirt, she saw a heavy bruise starting to form.
"Let me help you," she said, taking one step toward him, only to have him bark at her not to.
"If I knew that you weren't working, I wouldn't have come here."
She crossed her arms at her breast, and put her weight on her back foot.
"So you come only here, when you think I'm at work? What's wrong Zack? Hate seeing me? Hate seeing my face?" She spat.
"Damn," exclaimed, knocking all her things off the counter, "Just shut the hell up." He went back to his task at hand. He turned off the water, and squeezed out all the paper towels he used, and tossed them into the trash.
He walked past her, and into her room. She didn't go after him, but just stood in the kitchen feeling hurt, and pissed. So he didn't care about her? He thought he would just go there, then leave. Whatever happened to visiting?
He grabbed the spare clothes, she kept for any of them, and went into the bathroom shutting the door.
Jondy told him the first time she settled there, that he was welcomed, always. Even if she was mad, and hating him, he was always welcomed.
She didn't have to acknowledge him, or say anything. He was probably already, ready to be on his ways, anyways.
That was Zack; no emotional value what-so-ever in his body. He only heard what he wanted to hear, and everything had to be his way.
Jondy went back into her room, and closed the door, and layed down horizontally, on her stomach, across the bed. Facing the window, the wind blew in her face, and cooled her skin. It pushed all the stress, that Zack brought, right out.
Comfortable, and on the verge of drifting off, the doorknob turned lightly, and the door opened quietedly. She layed on her side now, curled up, and ignored him, and his quiet entrance into the room.
Zack sat down on the 'empty' side of the bed, and turned in her direction. He ran his hand down the back of her head, down her hair.
"Jondy," he said, calm, this time, his voice wasn't what it was a while ago in the kitchen.
She didn't say anything, but put the blanket over her head. She could ignore him. If he wanted to play mind games, then so be. He only came around, 'When the moon was full.' Maybe he was a lunatic.
Ignoring him, though, what would be the fun in that?
"Jondy," he said again, voice raised.
"I've had men in the bar with better attitude than you, and they were on their fifth shot, and they were coming off work in a bad mood." Her comfort zone, was still relaxed, even if he was there, and she could feel the heat of his body through the afghan covering her. Whatever shape he was in, he was still warm.
You sure about that?" he spoke with knowing, "Because its quite known that last night you were ready to smash faces."
"Have to do something right? Learn from the best," she said, refering to him, and he knew it.
"Harring attention, very smart." He was bitter tonight. Whatever crawled up his ass better leave.
"Zack, if you wannt be like this tonight," she sat up this time, and faced him. The shower didn't help, he was still a complete mess from his face, to his feet, though most were covered. His left arm, the one in the sink before, he held against his chest, under his shirt.
It didn't stop her mad feelings, for the look on his face was his stonic anger. He wasn't mellowed out, so she finished by saying, on a very serious note, "You can go sleep on the couch."
He stared at her, in the dark room, for a moment, then stood up. "Fine," he said. He walked out of the room, leaving the door open, nothing else said.
"If you wanna be a jerk, then be a jerk," she turned back to get comfortable, mumbling off, "I don't care anymore. I'll be a jerk, as long as you are one. I have no problem with it. Sleep on the escape, sleep in the street." She hit the pillow, and stuffed her face into it.
It wasn't the way she wanted to spend the night with Zack, when she hadn't seen him in many months.
This was the first chapter. I hope you've enjoyed. More soon.