Cheer-Stained: One Week In Westbridge
by The Jessica X

Libby, Sabrina, et al. are © Archie Comics / Hartbreak / Paramount / Whatever.
Adymm, the members of In Absinthia, and this work of fiction are © myself.

...yep, two at once. Boring Saturday.

Chapter 4: A Simple Twist Of Freak

"Are you sure you don't mind walking me?"

"Nah," Sabrina said with a slight shake of her head. "My place is only a couple blocks over, it's not a major detour."

"Crap, now I'll be worried about you getting back okay."

She laughed. "Libby, we're talking about Westbridge - you know, crime rate of negative four? I'm sure I can survive."

"Okay, okay. No need to make me sound like your mother any more than I already do."

"If you really sounded like my mother, you'd be speaking Swahili or something."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "Your mother's Swahili?!"

It seemed like millenia and yet no time at all passed between the restaurant and the motel; we had decided to leave when Mr. Wong himself came out and told us they generally discouraged guests staying longer than three hours. On the way home, still more tales were told, more laughs were shared, and despite frostbite setting in, I generally felt more comfortable in my own skin than I had since that perfect day at the end of Junior year. Finally, we got to the lobby of Sitanzp Inn.

"Well, I guess this is it."

"Yeah," she said, swinging her arms. "I guess I'll see you arou-"

"Sabrina?"

Her eyes flicked up. "Hmm?"

"I forgot to thank you for one more thing. The yearbook."

"Oh, yeah," she said, her frost-kissed cheeks glowing. "It took me forever to wheedle an extra copy outta the yearbook committee; those guys can be so tight-fisted!"

I tried to laugh, but it came out as a hacking fit; probably the frigid air starting to get to me. She patted me on the back until I could continue. "I mean, the letters were great, but that - it was all the memories I could never get back, and you found a way to send them to me in one neat little package. It, uh... it meant a lot to me."

"Ahh, it was nothing." She tends to do that - brush off grand gestures of kindness like they took all of five minutes to pull off. "I'm just glad you didn't already have one. But I am curious..."

"About...?"

"What did you look like in your schoolgirl uniform? I bet it was adorable!"

My nostrils flared.

- i o i o i o i o i o i o i o i -

I heard a knock on the door. "Yeah?" I yelled, trying not to let shampoo drip into my mouth.

"Libbs, T.Q.'s bitching about leaving on time, and I know it won't make any difference, but he asked me to tell you to hurry up."

"Tell him to go hurry himself!"

"That's what I figured." A pause. "I could come in there and help you if you thought it'd speed things along."

"Oh yes," I called in my most sarcastic tone. "Maybe trying to keep your hands from wandering into forbidden territory will cleanse me faster."

"Why keep them from wandering?"

"Just get back to packing, Sir Libido McHornypants."

Several minutes later found me racing out the door, shoving one boot on as I hopped. It was already almost ten, and while normally I wouldn't care what T.Q. wants, I should've left the restaurant earlier than I did and therefore was solely responsible for us being so late. Trust me, here - nobody can wake me up when I need my beauty rest.

Milnot was just collecting the money to pay for our rooms when a Vista Cruiser (of all the cars on the planet) swerved its way around the building, screeching to a halt two inches in front of Adymm's guitar case. We all gasped, and I gasped more when I saw who got out.

"Kids!" Hilda Spellman yelled, trying to run around her car in heels. "Hey, wait up a second!"

"What's all this, then?" Greg said, setting down the last bag of laundry he was trying to stuff into the van.

"Whew!" she gasped, bending down to clutch her knees as she caught her breath. "I... I was afraid you'd already left!"

"Take it easy, Ms Spellman," I said, patting her on the back. "Get your wind back."

A few moments (and many awkward looks between us band members) later, she finally straightened up, leaning against the van. "For the luvva Pete, I need to get to the gym once in a blue moon..."

"Look, ma'am," Adymm began patiently, "we really should hit the road pretty soon, so I'm not-"

"You'll do no such thing!" Suddenly she was upright and panicky again. "That's why I'm here, to ask you not to go!"

"Huh?" T.Q. said.

"Alrighty, here's the deal," she panted, taking a step forward and putting a hand on my shoulder. "A bunch of the mongrels - I mean, customers - have been coming up to Josh and myself this morning, asking who you were and where you're playing next. So, in an attempt to increase the ol' cash flow, I, um..."

"You what?" I managed through clinched teeth; her nails were digging into my collarbone.

"Well... I sorta, kinda... promisedthemyouguyswouldbeplayingagaintonight?" Her toothy grin was more of a bracing grimace.

Milnot folded his arms. "Say that again?"

"Oh, come on, you guys!" She turned to look around at everybody, eyebrows arched in perpetual poutiness. "I need a dynamite act for my Friday night showcase! It's just one more show, and they're gonna be expecting you, now! Do you really wanna disappoint potential fans like that?"

"I rather think they'll be blaming you if we don't show," Greg muttered crossly.

"I'll tell them you cancelled," she said defiantly. "I swear, I'll do it!"

"Listen, Ms Spellman," I soothed, placing my arm around her shoulders to calm her down. "We just don't have the money to keep these rooms another night. I'm sorry, but maybe-"

"Oh," she said simply, "that's no big deal, I'll pay for the rooms."

"We'll need more insentive than a place to sleep," Adymm continued for me. "Food, and gas, and-"

"Fine, fine," Hilda sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'll pay you the same as last night, okay?"

After a few moments of silence, T.Q. spoke up. "No way, you guys! Remember, that thing?"

"Listen, you blighter," Greg said, pointing at him, "another gig pays this well trumps your ickle girly-wirly evening."

"It does pay pretty well," I admitted.

"You just wanna stay here with your gal pal," T.Q. growled.

"So what?" I shot back, trying not to cringe at "gal pal". "That doesn't make the money any less real."

After glancing around again, Milnot sighed. "As long as we for sure leave tomorrow, 'cause if I'm not back for Christmas Eve, my-"

"Your mum, we know," Greg cut him off. "And I've nowhere to be, really."

"Mrs Spellman," Adymm said importantly, "it looks like you've got yourself a deal."

Her eyes lit up, and she jumped up and down like a kid waiting to meet the Easter Bunny. "Yippee! Oh, this is perfect; I have to go tell Josh!" She got halfway to the car before yelling, "You go on at eight, okay?"

"Got it," Adymm yelled back. "See you around seven!"

Then she was off, and we were left to think about what we had just done. And deal with the fallout.

"That's great," T.Q. grumbled, dragging his duffel back inside the room. "That's just peachy. How'm I supposed to break this to Ophelia?"

"Send her a postcard," Adymm chimed in.

"Oi, mate!" Greg tossed a handful of change at him. "There's this marvellous communication device they've invented, where you put in those bits of metal and push some-"

"Hardy har har," T.Q. cut him off. "Yeah, just laugh it up, you guys."

"Don't mind if we do," I giggled. What? Don't look at me like that, I was excited! Sure, I felt a tad sorry for him, but I couldn't help being all jazzed - I was gonna get to stay in Westbridge another night!

- i o i o i o i o i o i o i o i -
END Chapter Four