There's going to be some notes at the end of the chapter :
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If she ever got her hands on Phil, April swore to God that she would strangle the worthless life out of him.
When the time for her kickboxing practice began to roll around, April donned her usual apparel and made the trek to the gym, a slight kick in her step. Phil had told her before that she was doing well, and he never gave out compliments easily, so she was beaming from head to toe. He had told her that they were going to practice a kick that would put her weight on one foot while she sprang the kick with the other, and she was totally excited to learn some more kickbutt moves.
It was supposed to be a great Friday night, right?
Wrong! Totally, effing wrong!
April had showed up at the gym and when she tried to open the doors, they were locked. She thought it was a bit weird at first, so she went around, thinking that maybe Phil accidentally closed the front door. If that was the case, then Phil "accidentally" locked all of the doors and it left April baffled.
She tried knocking on the doors, windows, anything - hoping that Phil was inside and he was playing a prank on her, but he was really not in there at all. April even dialed his phone to ask him what the hell was going on, but his phone was off.
That freaking bastard!
Forty-five minutes of circling, knocking, and screaming later, April eventually let out a cry of frustration into the night, scaring off a few of the crows that were sitting on the telephone wires.
She rubbed her arms, the nighttime and the neighborhood giving off an ominous glow that urged her to stay under the streetlights.
Well, now she had no choice but to go back to her dorm and hope that nothing would happen to her on the way back. Oh, she was going to rip Phil a new one if she ever saw him again -
Her hazel eyes flicked to a bar that was down the street from where she was standing, her ears picking up the sound of what seemed to be The Immigrant Song drifting out of the doors.
April looked around to make sure no one was following her and crossed the street so she was standing in front of the bar. She stretched her head back to read a new, sparkly and glowing sign that read "Undertaker's Gig" in glossy black letters.
She shut her eyes, breathing in the cigarette smoke and malt liquor smell that wafted around her. April breathed it out in a sigh and for some unexplainable reason, she knew that Phil would be in that bar. She couldn't tell you how she knew, but the smell was a clue that indicated that this is where Phil would be when he had free time.
Normally, she wouldn't care what he did when they weren't together, but he broke a promise to her and now she had to give him an earful, one way or another.
Funnily enough, Blondie's "One Way or Another" began to warble out of the jukebox when April stepped foot into the bar, the floorboards creaking under her footsteps. But her feet wouldn't be on that floor for long.
She didn't even have to scan the bar for too long to see Phil Brooks leaning forward on a table, his hand lazily holding a glass with golden liquid. It was probably some sort of strong liquor, seeing as he was already drunk out of his mind and the last time she saw him was three and a half hours ago.
He was laughing too hard and talking too loud which made him look ridiculous, but that didn't mean he was going to garner any sympathy from her! Even if he was drunk, she would chew him out.
She had enough decency to not yell at him in public - not out of concern for whatever street cred he had in this bar, but because she still valued her appearance in public. Even if she was dating Phil Brooks. Ugh, she knew that he was going to get some sort of punishment; doubling up on the studying so he would see piles and piles of papers in his nightmares. Oh, and making sure he devoted twice as much time to her kickboxing lessons - an hour extra for every minute he had been in this damn bar.
Okay, maybe that was a bit overboard, but she knew she wasn't done with him in the least.
But first, she had to get his drunk ass home.
April made her way to his table, and her eyes flickered over to the first time to the girl with the cascade of red hair that was sitting across from him. The brief idea of jealousy passed through her mind before she reminded herself why she was in the bar in the first place.
"You idiot," she murmured, trying to throw his arm around her shoulders. April heard that it would make carrying drunk people a lot easier, but she never thought that she would use it any time soon.
"A . . .April? Hah! How the hell are you doing here?" he slurred out, struggling to his feet.
She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, and let's just get you home." April noticed that the redhead had her eyes narrowed at her, her mouth pressed into a line.
"Are you his girlfriend? He never mentioned he had one." the redhead sounded a little bit more than buzzed with a slight slur to her words, but she sounded coherent nonetheless.
April blinked. "I'm sorry, no but - "
"April? She is my girlfriend and is smoking hot, amirite?" Phil emitted a harsh laugh that made April flinch in response.
"Makes sense. A guy like that wouldn't be single," she sighed, leaning her cheek into her palm.
April paused before digging in her pockets and taking out thirty dollars and setting it on the table. The redhead looked up at her with a slight confusion in her eyes.
"Take a cab home. Stay safe," she told her when the redhead didn't speak up to ask her about the money.
She didn't want a girl to end up like she almost did.
"Are you the girl?"
April turned to see the source of the voice and saw that it was a tall man, so tall she had to stretch her head back to look up at him, with pitch black hair and a glint in his eyes. He was rubbing the outside of a glass cup with a rag.
"I'm sorry?"
The man gestured towards Phil with his chin. "The girl that's been pushing him."
April blinked. "I . . . guess so," she said, her eyes flitting towards Phil's drooping figure.
The man smiled. "Take good care of him."
I wonder what he means to Phil, she mused. April didn't try to stare for too long before she gave him a slight smile before throwing Phil's arm around her shoulders once more before half-walking half dragging him out of the bar and under the streetlights.
Throwing her head back up to the sky, April closed her eyes and tried to mentally prepare herself for the struggle that was going to be dragging Phil home. If she didn't find a cab soon, her arms and legs would turn into jelly because he was so darn heavy.
She sighed and began the slow trek, her eyes scanning the cars passing by her on the street in hopes that a taxi or a shuttle would crawl by her.
"A - pril," Phil sing-songed, leaning his head onto her shoulder.
"No no no, keep your head up. You're heavy as it is," she gritted out, trying to concentrate on her feet to put one foot in front of the other.
"Sorry. Ya didn't hafta pick me'up y'know."
"If I didn't, who would have?" April struggled to understand him through his drunken stupor.
"True," he sighed, closing his eyes momentarily.
And besides, if Phil had died in some sort of ditch, who was going to give her free kickboxing lessons?
Luckily, that was the time that a cab was about to zip by her if she hadn't of thrown her hand out for them to see. She whispered a silent thank you prayer and opened the door on one side and shoved Phil's legs, arms, and torso like some sort of two-hundred pound ragdoll and shut the door. She shoved him (as gently as she could) to the other side of the vehicle before she swiftly sat inside of the cab, closing the door behind her in one swift movement.
Phil's head lolled to the window of the cab, meanwhile April's mind was chugging with what to do with him.
She couldn't necessarily go and dump him in his dorm; people would ask questions that she wasn't sure she'd have the answers to, and she wasn't even allowed in there anyway after dark. The only other option she had was to take him with her and sneak him out when there wasn't anyone watching. Celeste had decided to visit her aunt for the weekend, so she didn't have to worry about any probing demands and answers.
April emitted a sigh and directed the cab driver around the university, having him stop on the street that wound around her dorm. She gave the cabbie forty dollars and looked away as more money was being sucked right out of her. Ugh, Phil would definitely have to pay her back for this.
Once the cab had driven away and she had Phil shrugged on her shoulders, she tried not think about lugging his body around and else she would have to quit right then and there.
Gritting her teeth, April began to take one step at a time, counting the steps to make the process a bit easier to deal with. What became an obstacle was climbing the stairs.
"Why didn't they ever install an elevator? This is getting ridiculous!" April whisper-yelled. Perspiration was traveling down her neck and she tried to ignore the aching in her arms and shoulders as she took one step at a time, praying that this hell would be over soon.
"An elevator? What 'bout a escalator," Phil slurred, his fingers twitching around her arms.
April looked at him in disbelief; he still had enough consciousness to continue to speak, but not to move? What kind of drunk was he?!
"It's not going to make much of a difference, Philip." April felt a little smug at calling him by his full name without getting any sort of repercussions from him.
Actually, he had made it clear from day one that she wasn't ever under any circumstances to call him Philip. He had been bugging her per usual, but she was just utterly exhausted from staying up past her usual sleeping time to study for her english exam, so his full name tumbled out of her mouth with a slight twinge of revulsion. He had paused from walking beside her and had very quietly, albeit very menacingly asked her to never call him that again, but he never explained why. He just shrugged off her continuous questions with a glare and a tightlipped look. He didn't intend on giving her any reasoning, and April didn't push it anymore.
Why? Well, for one she was ridiculously tired, and for another thing, she had never seen him so angry. Only when that guy had harassed her, but his fury was never directed towards her.
But right now, he was well-deserved of her fury and she didn't care about his anger (if he had any in this state) because hers was so much greater.
"Don't," he whispered, his eyebrows furrowed in pain and his tone was so vulnerable that it made April pause.
She swallowed the knot in her throat. His voice gave her the image of droplets of rain on a cold winter's day - it didn't belong there, and even if it knew that it would disappear beneath the blankets of snow, it made a futile attempt to be there. Phil's voice didn't belong to him, but his features and his posture dictated to make it otherwise.
"Sorry," she murmured, adjusting him on her shoulders once more before continuing her trek.
"You never told me why you don't like people calling you by your full name," she said, wanting to hit herself for even trying to communicate with this moving corpse. But she was curious - how could being called by your name make you so vulnerable?
"My mom - she only ev'r calls me by m'full name when she diss-appointed in me," he sighed, leaning against her. April tried to bite down a groan at his increased weight and tried to listen to him.
"She doesn't do that often, I assume?"
Phil shook his head. "Only twice. When I kickbox'd behind her back, and when I got expelled from my old high school." he inhaled deeply before shutting up again.
April didn't press him.
She wanted to scream once she reached the final step, but she had to remind herself that people were probably sleeping and she would be in so much trouble if someone saw her dragging a huge, muttering body.
Fishing the keys out of her pocket, she stuck her key in the lock in the door, opened it up as wide as it could go, shuffled inside, and closed it as quietly as she could.
Since April still had some politeness left in her, she decided to shove Phil onto her bed instead of Celeste's. As much as it killed her to have his grimy, dirty clothes on her crisp sheets, she swallowed her qualms and put him on his side (and slid a trashcan his way for good measure). She may have still not really liked him, but that didn't mean that she wanted him to die in her dorm. April wasn't sure about the consequences that would more than likely come if he did die, and she wasn't too keen on finding out.
Just as she had adjusted him on her bed and was about to make her way over to Celeste's bed, she could feel Phil's grasp on her wrist. She turned around, slight shock cast over her features. Was he sober? That should be impossible. But why did he have such a strong grip on her?
Phil still had his eyes closed; sleeping like a baby. But he still had the tight hold on her wrist that it was really disconcerting. When she tried to pull out of it, he actually pulled her closer.
He tucked his arms behind her back and across her waist, pulling her towards him and making the hairs on her arms stand ramrod straight.
What is he doing what is he doing what is he doing what is he do-
"'lways smellin' like wildflowers," Phil murmured. He pressed his nose against his hair and April could feel warmth in her ears. Wait, was that a blush?
Jeez, she really needed to pull herself together! Just because it felt really nice to have his hands splayed on her sides and back, and just because having his breath curling through her hair didn't mean that she could slip into some sort of happy coma and forget about the fact that this guy was cruel. He was cruel towards girls, and he was most especially cruel to Celeste.
But had he ever been so open with anyone like he had been open with April on the stairs? No matter how hard she tried to shake the image off, she could still see his emerald eyes flashing with pain when he told her about his mother. It was obvious he was a total mama's boy, but anyone who treated their mother like a porcelain doll couldn't be as hateful as the world thought he was. But if that was the case, why was he such a terrible towards the girls at Pons? If someone loved their mother like that, wouldn't that reflect in how he treated girls? It didn't make sense.
April saw his normally tense and creased features were creased out, and he actually looked handsome - hold on a second.
Her stomach may have had millions of butterflies fluttering inside of it and causing her to think things that hadn't appeared before, but that didn't let her forget that the relationship was fake. Whatever that was going through her was just some sort of side effect of being within his presence for so long, and she had to reel herself back in. This was only for kickboxing lessons - no more, no less. It wouldn't be right or honest to her, or Celeste.
It just didn't feel right.
April had guilt churning through her stomach and she tried to pull out of his grasp, but he seemed to pull her closer, making escape virtually impossible.
She sighed, deciding that staying there until he was in a deep sleep wouldn't hurt her or anyone else as long as she broke out of it herself. She just wouldn't fall asleep, that's all.
But his warmth - it made it extremely difficult.
She noticed that underneath the smell of whiskey that clung to his clothes and skin, she breathed in the scent of apples. April thought that someone as gruff and douchey as he would smell like, well, like motor oil from an old Chevrolet, or like pine trees from a wilderness that would give off the aura that he's survived in a forest before. Something masculine to reflect the image that he never failed to present. But here he was, smelling like sweet, green apples from an orchard.
It reminded her of when she was a child, and her mom would take her sister and her to the farmer's market when summer and autumn rolled around. She loved the aroma of spices, of meat roasting, and of the fresh apples that the vendors would display for their customers. Her mom would always buy her a green apple, knowing that they were her favorite.
April's eyes began to flutter and soon enough she was knocked out, her body intertwined with his.
It probably would've looked romantic, had it not been one person drunk and the other battling inner demons.
How poetic.
...
I apologize for updating so late! Getting ready with college stuff and stressing a little bit has kept me from sitting down and writing, so I apologize. Another chapter is going to be uploaded later today, but there may not be any updates for a bit (depending on how I adjust). See you guys later!
