Contagious
III.
I never really know quite what to expect any more when it comes to my emotions. Before becoming a zombie, I was only two things: driven and boring. I was never good at separating my social life with my school and work life, so it all kind of just blended together. On the off chance I talked to someone besides Peyton and Major, it was only about my job.
I don't even know what Major saw in me. Besides both of us being in professions where we helped people, we didn't have much in common. He was an extrovert and liked being social, whereas I was an introvert and preferred staying home. I wouldn't go so far as to say we were opposites though. We somehow found a good medium between us.
Come to think of it, I don't know how Peyton and I clicked either. She was always the drop dead gorgeous girl that could be friends with anyone and get any guy she chose. Still, I think she took to my work ethic and it helped her stay focused. Maybe I was just a good influence for her.
Being a zombie definitely made me more sociable. When the brains of a person wore off, I would lose the talent they had, but some of their personality would always somehow stay with me. Holly reminds me that there's always fun in life to be had. Being a pregnant woman reminded me of how much I would have loved having a child of my own someday. Consuming that frat boy's brains made me more outgoing. They all had their ups and down.
Audrey's brains make me emotional. And when I'm emotional, I drink...
Liv sat at the far end of a half empty bar. She counted the five empty glasses in front of her, plus the one currently filled to the brim. She was mixing her drinks (not always the best idea), testing each one out to see which one could best burn the taste onto her tongue. So far, Sierra Silver Tequila and Devil Springs Vodka were winning the race.
She cautiously looked around the bar, relieved that no one was looking at her. She would hate to accidentally make eye contact with someone and make them think they should come over to keep her company.
But everyone else seemed to have someone. She watched as some guys put their arms around their girls' shoulders, while girls would lean forward and place their hands on the guys' knees to let them know they were interested. It was a give and take situation and Liv felt both repulsed and jealous of it all.
Turning back to her drink, she tossed it down her throat with only a slight wince. Bacardi 151 does the trick, too.
She looked down the bar and saw the bartender talking to a couple girls, "Hey! Can I get another drink down here?"
The bartender rolled his eyes but held up a finger to the girls as he made his way to Liv, "Are you sure you don't wanna take a break? I could get you some water."
"Does it look like I need a break?" Liv asked in a snappy tone, a sure sign that the alcohol was having some sort of take on her. She sighed, "Sorry. But I'm fine. Could I get another double-shot of that tequila, please?"
The bartender frowned but got out the bottle anyway.
"Make that two."
Liv didn't even have to look to see who took the stool right next to her. His voice sent a shiver down her spine and, quite unexpectedly, a vision hit her full force.
Audrey moaned as she stared up at the ceiling, her eyes fluttering often and quickly. She looked down past her breasts that were only covered by a laced bra (the kind that's only worn when you know something fun is going to happen) to Blaine who was nipping his way up her inner thigh.
"Why do you always have to tease?" Audrey asked breathlessly as she ran a hand back through his brown hair.
"'Cause it gets you this way," he murmured before sliding up her body and kissing her on the mouth. Audrey kept her eyes open, admiring him up close as he loved on her. But then her body jerked and she moaned loudly against his lips.
The noise caused Liv to jump out of the vision.
Blaine looked over at her and noticed that her pupils were dilated and she seemed short of breath, "Must have been one hell of a vision."
Liv blinked, trying to erase the heat bubbling in her stomach. The alcohol was not helping any. She finally took him in—which also did not help any. He looked completely different than when she saw him that morning. His hair was no longer combed to perfection, but spiked and messy. Gone was his black suit, and now he just wore faded blue jeans and a black-tee with a red windbreaker.
"What are you doing here? …and how did you know I was here?" Liv asked, taking one of the glasses the bartender put down in front of them.
"I have my ways," Blaine answered mysteriously. He clinked his glass against hers even though she didn't offer to do so. He shot back the drink and Liv, not knowing what else to do, did the same.
"But for the more important question—I came to ask for that sketch you were going to show me this morning."
"You think you might know who did it?" Liv asked hopefully, turning only her upper body toward him.
"Well, I can't know for sure until I see him, right? So. Hand it over."
She shook her head, "I…don't have it on me right now. I left it at home."
She saw his eyes rove over to her, his mouth dropped open only slightly before he asked: "I guess I know who I'm going home with tonight."
Liv blushed—she could actually feel heat rise to her cheeks and she truly hoped he didn't catch any redness to her face. But she had the sudden urge to be like those girls she was looking at earlier. She wanted to lean in toward him, place her hand on his knee—
"Another drink, please!" She called to the bartender again.
"For me, as well," Blaine said, "And put all of her drinks under my tab. Thanks, brother," he took out a card and tossed it across the bar.
Liv swirled a finger around her latest empty glass, "You don't have to buy my drinks, you know."
"And you didn't have to come to me for help, but you did," he paused only for a moment before adding, "Smart move, by the way."
"What? Asking you if you knew her killer?"
He nodded.
"Well, I keep having visions about you and her, so who else would I go to?"
"Fair enough," he picked up his drink the bartender put down and once again clinked it against her unwilling glass, "Care to share any of these visions?"
"Um." Liv answered all too shortly before taking a drink. Before, she was trying to get drunk, but with Blaine here now, she wasn't so sure that was a good idea, "I've seen her telling you her favorite color was yellow because she viewed it differently than everyone else. You told her she should be a poet. She rushed back from her trip abroad because she missed you. …Are you sure she was with you and not like—a twin brother you have?"
"Ha! Very clever," he shot back his drink, "No, believe it or not, Liv, you're seeing the teenage me."
Liv couldn't help but down her drink as well. She picked up the napkin it had been sitting on and noticed a faded water circle right in the middle. The urge to write hit her again. And with Blaine sitting beside her, it was impossible to fight against. She dug out a pen from her purse and began writing out verses.
"So…if you cared about her as much as I'm picking up, why'd you two break up?" Liv asked, trying to keep him talking as she wrote.
"You mean you don't know?" Blaine asked sarcastically, "I dunno, you might have a vision soon and I don't want to spoil the surprise."
She shot him a glare, "This isn't a movie, you know. I only get bits and pieces. It would be nice to fill in some of the gaps."
Blaine became silent, but Liv hardly noticed as she wrote out everything that seemed to be coming from something other than herself.
'For what is my existence without my agony—'
"Haven't you ever felt like you just weren't good enough for the person you were with?" Blaine suddenly asked. Liv stopped writing and looked over at him. The smirk on his face made it seem like he didn't just utter the words he did.
"You killed two of the guys that come to mind for me," Liv said bitterly—and then she held her breath. She did not expect herself to say that, nor did she want to. It was something she never wanted to discuss with Blaine.
Blaine looked confused, "Two? How come I can only think of Major? But damn, was he a pain in the ass. He had that coming, mind you."
Liv gripped the pen hard in her hand. How the hell did Blaine remain so calm when talking about a murder?
"But who was the second?" When Liv didn't answer, Blaine turned his stool toward her, "C'mon, you can't just leave me hangin'. …it wasn't Matt, was it? Aaron? …Josh!"
"You're just saying names," Liv mumbled, and felt a bit uneasy that Blaine thought he killed so many people that a random name could be the correct one, "How do you think Audrey would have felt about your lifestyle now?"
"Oh, she would have hated me. For sure," he said without missing a beat.
Liv slapped down the pen on the counter then turned toward him sharply, "And that doesn't bother you in the least? That your high school sweetheart, the one that's supposed to always see you with a golden halo, would hate you because of what you've become?"
"Life isn't some rom-com," Blaine bounced back at her, "I haven't thought about her in—forever! But we broke up so she could have a chance with someone good for her. Someone that didn't have daddy issues, or megalomania, or drug problems. Some people deserve better than all that."
She could only stare at him. From the sound of it, he broke up with her to give her a better chance at life. He didn't want her falling down the path he was. And she had so many questions. If he loved her, why didn't he try to change for her? But the again—he seemed to change after he had been dating her. So why wouldn't he stay the same for her?
"Audrey's actually her middle name," Blaine revealed when Liv didn't say anything, "Diana was her first name. But everyone insisted on calling her Di for some reason, and she hated that. –Ironic, isn't it, Liv?"
Liv narrowed her eyes. He probably didn't tell her that piece of info to help in the case, but it could certainly help for looking up more info on her. She could be known as Audrey socially, but on records, she must have had to put Diana.
And Blaine was watching her as she processed this information. Though he wasn't admitting it straight out, he must have been so in love with her to let her go when he found himself heading down a bad path he couldn't resist. And even now, he's taking the time out of his schedule to help find her killer…
He placed his hands over her eyes.
"No one's looked at me like that since Audrey. It's hard seeing it again, especially when I know it's from her."
Liv felt her heart shatter. She backed away from his hand and turned to look down at all her empty glasses, "Well—thanks for not taking advantage of my…situation," she said awkwardly, "Mind if I get one my drink, Mr. Tab Man?"
"Please, drink away," he said, waving the bartender back over, "I get at least ten-thousand per brain—and that's only when it's from some low life. I can spare you some change."
She shook her head, then blurted out, "Lowell. You killed Lowell."
"Lowell? ….Lowell…" Blaine murmured the name to himself a few more times before clicking his fingers, "The British guy, right? Wait…you were dating him? He tried to kill me first, you know."
"I know. I was there," she said cynically, not even trusting herself to glance over at Blaine for a second.
"You were? Funny—I don't remember that."
She sighed. She could easily tell him that she planned on killing him that night but chickened out, but she opted for keeping her mouth closed.
"Well—if it means anything at all to you, I apologize. It was nothing personal, honestly. I was bringing him his daily meal brain per usual, he tried to stab him, so I shot him. Self-defense."
"He was only trying to do what I couldn't," Liv spit out angrily, but instantly regretted it. The last thing Blaine needed to know was that she wanted (needed) him dead.
"Ah, well, better luck next time," was all he said as though he was told daily that someone tried to kill him.
"And yet you're still waiting to go to my home with me? Alone? Where I could easily eat you?"
"Mm, don't get me too excited, Miss Moore," Blaine said as he placed his glass to his lips. "Oh wait," he held out the glass, seeing if Liv would clink their glasses together this time. He waited ten seconds before he finally did it himself again, "One of these times you'll initiate it."
Liv put her face in her hand, "It's—astonishing how unbelievable you are."
"I'll take that as a compliment," he drank the alcohol then slammed the glass on the counter, "So finish up. Let's go get that sketch."
Liv peaked out from between her spread fingers, "I'm not sure I really want you to know where I live."
Blaine chuckled, "Where you Liv." He looked over to her but when he saw she wasn't laughing, he shrugged, "Some people just don't have a sense of humor." He cleared his throat and signaled to the bartender, "I'd like to pay the tab now."
Liv stared at her last drink of the evening, scared to touch it knowing Blaine was paying for it (even though he offered to pay for all of her drinks). She picked up her napkin full of words, "How about I just stop by Shady Plots tomorrow and drop off the sketch?"
He signed the receipt with a good tip, "Liv, if I really wanted to know where you live, I would have found out already. Or I could easily find out now. Have one of my guys break in. Wreck the place up. Then take the sketch. Ooorrr…" He turned his stool to face her with a smug grin.
She shook her head, "You're horrible."
He flashed her a satisfied smirk, leaning forward with a glint in his eyes, "But you love it, right? Especially right now."
She groaned and placed her hand over his face, "Whatever. Let's just go get the sketch so this night can be over."
"You live far?"
"No. Like two blocks."
"Perfect. We'll walk," he stood from his seat and stuck his hands deep in his pockets.
Liv stood from hers as well, shooting one last suspicious look at him, "Another reminder: I will kill you if I have to."
"Seems like you already tried and missed your chance."
