I'm lost. I'm lost, I'm lost, I'm lost, I'M LOST!
Okay, no, I'm not lost. I know exactly where I am, I just don't know how where I am can end up with me getting home. See, the thing is is that I have no bus money. And while this isn't so important, it kind of is. Usually, after random bus driver drops me off at a certain point I have to take the subway to some place where I will then walk a short distance to my house.
Complicated, I know.
But someone must have stolen my bus/subway money or something, because it's not there and because of that the bus driver kicked me out! So I was like, screw that menopausin' bizznitch. I'm going to walk to my house.
Yeah, that was my first mistake. Or second... You can never be too careful.
Because instead of following the bus route for an hour or so until I got to familiar ground, I had the "general direction" of where my house was in my head and just walked in that direction.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
My feet hurt, my skirt's still wet, and while Quinn's clothes are really warm, they're also really big and I keep having to pull up the neckline to avoid flashing the old hobos.
And it's getting dark. Woe is me.
I really have to stop screwing myself so royally. Maybe I should actually think before I do something.
Yeah, like that's going to happen anytime soon.
Wait, I see someone familiar. A brooding, tall something with a leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. I've never seen him at school with no sleeves, though. He makes it a point to hide the flame tattoos on his arm whenever there are teachers around.
"Warren!" I yelled, running over to him as fast as I could.
He turned around and his eyes widened at the sight of me jumping on him.
"I thought that I was going to be kidnapped and raped and die a horrible painful death in the middle of nowhere!"
Raising an eyebrow, he gently pried me off of him and looked at the shaking mess that I was reverted to in these dark hours.
"Perkins." His voice effectively cut me off and he had yet to remove the hands from my shoulders, "What the hell are you talking about?" I didn't answer, but instead clung to him and steadied my breathing, "My house is a block away. You can hyperventilate all you want there
He cast a glance around for the shady characters that didn't exist and led me to his dwellings. I knew I recognized the grafitti littered walls. The only difference was this time I was walking instead of in a cab. A well protected cab that... protected... innocent bystanders from the thugs that were usually unheard of in a happy place called Maxville.
"Why aren't you sitting at home giggling over rock stars?" He asked as soon as we were inside his red, black and white room.
His mother, after greeting me with enthusiastic familiarity, ushered us both to his room with a knowing smile. She was almost as bad as my mother, only without the dirty innuendos.
"I got lost." I shrugged with a guilty smile, "My money was missing and I thought that I could walk home but I couldn't and I've been wandering for hours and do you know where I live?"
"Your house isn't that far."
"It is when I'm used to taking public transportation."
"I'll walk you home, then."
"What happened to your bike?" He managed to turn a small shade of pink, something which I fought to not 'aw' over.
"It's not mine." He mumbled, turning away from me, "I was keeping it safe for a cousin."
"And you just happened to drive it everywhere."
"I didn't crash it." He defended to my slight smile.
"Whatever. Do you have a phone I can borrow?" I asked sweetly, batting my eyes.
"I might." He shrugged, throwing his jacket towards his desk before stretching in his manly pro-abuse tanktop (a wifebeater) and laying down on his bed.
"You might?" I repeated, trying to not stare.
"If you promise to answer one- no, three- questions, truthfully, at any time. No changing the subject or giving a half-assed answer." He raised an eyebrow and stared at my bemused expression, "Got it?"
"Got it. Now give me the phone."
"Mark, come on." I whined into the phone Warren so graciously let me borrow.
"I was waiting for hours, Emily." He protested, "It was getting dark and I was just about to call the police!"
"I told you already, I got lost! Maybe if I had a cell phone," I hinted not so subtly.
"Fine." He sighed. "We'll get you one this weekend."
Wait a minute. Was he actually agreeing to get me a cellphone?
"And, you know," I pushed with a bright smile, "Maybe if I had an mp3 player I'd do better in school." I heard both Warren and Mark snort at the thought and I glared at the only one I could see.
"Explain to me this logic." Mark said, his smile heard through the phone.
"Well, if I had something to listen to while I was doing work at school, preferably that new Nine Inch Nails CD," I dropped another hint, but this blatant advertising of things I wanted wasn't my fault. My birthday was next month. "Then I would be able to concentrate more often."
"I'll think about it." He grunted, meaning that he would actually think about it. Maybe in a few years, but he would still think about buying it for me.
"What the hell are you smoking?" I asked, halting for a second before asking another question, "And can you smoke it more often?"
He spared me a chuckle before ignoring my important questions and asking some of his own.
"When are you coming home?"
I looked at Warren with a raised eyebrow, to which he raised an eyebrow back at me. Then I realised that he didn't have super hearing and rolled my eyes.
"I'll walk home in a bit, okay?"
"I won't blame you if you decide to sleep over. It is Friday." He said, not knowing that I was at a boy's house. Mainly because I only referred to Warren as 'a friend from school.'
"I'll think about it, Mark. G'night, then."
"I'll see you later."
Hanging up on him, I handed the phone back to Warren and sat next to him on his bed.
"So, how was work?" I asked after a long pause of silence.
"Before or after I finished bussing the tables?" He asked, mumbling instead of growling.
"Yeah, I don't think being a busboy is all that exciting either. I don't know why Quinn's so thrilled to work at In-N-Out Burger. You can get the paper hats anytime." My thoughts wandered for a bit, paying no attention to Warren at all until I had an actual question to ask him, "Why do you hate Quinn?"
A flame ignited next me, a very large flame, and I screamed and fell to my right in an attempt to get as far away from it as possible. A bit dramatic compared to my past reactions, but it was right bloody next to me and I had no warning at all.
"Sorry." Warren mumbled, looking away and extinguishing the flames on his arm as quickly as it came.
"Don't mention it." I said shakily, rising to my feet and attempting to steady my quivering limbs.
"You're in shock now." He sighed, gliding towards me and brushing back some of the hair on my face. The quivering wasn't so much out of fear now, which made me beyond pissed at my emotions. My hormones, in particular.
"No, really, don't mention it. I've made a Valentine's Day resolution to not pass out again under any circumstances." He spared my a small smirk and put his hands on both of my arms, still probably thinking that I was shaking from the shock. I, for one, thought that the unneeded contact was only making the shaking situation worse.
"Any circumstances?" He questioned, leading me to his bed.
I sat down gratefully, glad that I didn't have to rely on my legs anymore, and blushed when he took a seat next to me.
Damn my hormones.
I scooted a little away from him, and he, unfortunately, noticed. The small smirk on his face disappeared completely and the air grew a little colder. His previously relaxed demeanor grew stiff and he stood up abruptly, choosing to lean against his wall and stare off into space. He probably thought that I was afraid of him now, or something stupid like that. Which wasn't all that stupid, if you thought about it, seeing how I told him multiple times that I was deathly afraid of fire and had only stomached the sight of it during Save the Citizen. And twice I passed out, either from facing my imminent death of the pit of razors or from an overexertion of the powers that I hated to use.
Anyone in my place would confront the situation and apologize for making it seem like I was afraid of him now instead of actually being afraid of how good I felt when around him, or become extremely awkward and stammer my way back into safe ground, but I decided long ago that I was automatically suicidal when it came to life. And run-on sentences.
So, with nothing decided at all (which really didn't surprise me), I walked over to his wall of brooding and hugged him in an effort to show that no, I was not afraid of him.
That and he felt really good and he couldn't see me blush if my head was buried in his shoulder. He smelled good too.
He didn't hug me back, of course. That had only happened once. So he just stood there, completely confused as to what was going on.
"Even though you're a brooding mess most of the time and you have the social knowledge of a deaf dog, you're the best friend I've ever had."
And Warren Peace, in all his masculinity, reluctantly returned the hug despite the insults that I just slung into that compliment.