Chapter 9: Send Me On My Way

I tightened my grip on the handle of the bag between my fists, the skin of my knuckles turning white. My eyes were closed and I was taking in Evelyn's comfort and scent. I needed her. I needed her now.

Jack and I were set to leave for Chicago as soon as he was packed. Jerry was nice enough to lend us his and Camille's spare car. I was eternally thankful to both of them. I was eternally thankful to Jack for agreeing to drive me. But I had this constant pang of guilt in the back of my mind: What if Michael woke up and I was gone? Not only would I be gone, but I'd be gone with another male individual that wasn't him. I felt disgusted with myself. That was one reason not to go on this escapade. The second reason was that I hadn't been on a long car journey since the accident. I mean, driving to and from the hospital with Jack was one thing, Eleven hours in a car all the way to Chicago was another. And I'd never been so terrified in my life.

My heart was pounding in my chest. It was New Year's Eve. I shouldn't feel like this on New Years Eve. I shouldn't feel petrified out of my wits on what's supposed to be a day of celebration. Although, that's what I thought about the party before we left. That's what I thought before we got in that damn car. That's what I thought before that truck came crashing into us.

I closed my eyes again in a very meditative fashion, straightening my back as I tried to easy my spinning thoughts. What would she tell me to do? Probably what she always told me to do: to bite the bullet and get right back on that horse. But I didn't want to get right back on the horse. I wanted to be able to drive myself to see my brother, I wanted to be able to go to a house that I could call my own and say "welcome home" to my boyfriend everyday, I wanted Evelyn to be alive, I wanted Jack –

"You okay?"

I felt myself snap out of my pensive state and looked up at the bedroom door to see Bobby. He didn't look amused. In fact, he looked downright worried. His expression of that sort got me even more anxious, since Bobby didn't seem like the kind of guy that would get worried over nothing. After staring at him for what felt like too long, I smiled weakly, "Yeah, I'm fine." I winced when my voice sounded high-pitched and squeaky.

Taking a seat next to me on the edge of the bed, in a very grandfatherly kind of way. "You'll be okay," he said, putting a comforting hand on mine. "Once you get going, you'll be fine." I was amazed that he was able to tell what was on my mind. Maybe all those years with Evelyn had paid off more than other people were willing to believe. He removed his hand, obviously feeling awkward from the touch of reassurance.

"Thanks," I said, still straining a smile. "You're probably right. It's just I see images running through my consciousness and they won't slow down." I sighed, looking down at the spot where his palm had connected with the back of my hand. "You're probably right," I repeated.

His lips curled into a smile and he patted the top of my head, affably. "Ya gotta take care of Jackie too, he's only just a humble, very gay, man." I giggled, rolling my eyes at his humor. Brothers…

"You guy should lay off him sometimes," I said, after slapping his arm softly. "You may be surprised with the affect you have on him."

Bobby shook his head, running his palm over the greasy layer of his hair. "No, no I don't think I could handle any more actions of the gay variety out of him. I can only take so much."

We shared another laugh between us, "True, true," I countered.

Overall, Bobby was a nice guy. It seemed like he didn't have too many thoughts in his head about getting to know other people, which made the fact that he was trying his very best to comfort me at this specific moment in time, even more heart warming. I could see how he could be intimidating when he wanted to be. Hell, I could see how all the brothers could be intimidating when they wanted to be. Except for maybe Jerry, whose family had influenced him more than his brothers were willing to believe. Angel could be one hell of a fighter when someone was screwing with him, and then could regress to the age of eight when it came to choosing what to watch on TV. Jack, although he looked up to his brothers and would kill to be like them, had no more guts in his body than I did. Though, it may have been because of the way I knew him.

Jack suddenly appeared in the doorway, a large black suitcase that looked like it was on its last legs, dangling from his reddening fingers. His hair looked even more mussed than usually, a look that had probably spent him hours to create, even though he could have just rolled out of bed and left it. He wore his leather jacket over his favorite sweater and the jeans I'd stolen on Christmas. They were fraying at the hems and I made a mental note to have Sofi sew them up for him in the near future. He raised an eyebrow at Bobby, before letting his eyes fall on me. "Ready to go?" he asked.

I nodded and felt Bobby take my bag from my hands' grasp before walking through the open door and down the stairs. Jack offered me a gloved hand and pulled me up from the safety of Evelyn's bed, before following his brother downstairs to where other voices were drifting upward and into my ears. I could hear them but, despite my efforts, I couldn't for the life of me comprehend what they were saying.

My legs were shaking beneath me as I stood at the top of the stairs. I felt myself reach for the wooden railing and wrapped my fingers tightly around it. I closed my eyes when I had the sensation of entering a spinning tunnel and I prayed to god that I wasn't swaying noticeably. The lungs in the barred enclosure of my ribs felt tight and I could feel my heart pounding to the same beat as my head.

When I felt as though I could finally open my eyes without toppling over onto the hard carpeted floor, I looked down to find the eyes of Jerry, Camille, Sofi, and the four brothers staring up in my direction. I decided to take a chance on my legs and stepped down onto the first step. Jack stepped forward, ready to catch me, but I could see he was trying to be discrete. My left foot finally made contact with the wooden paneled floor of the entrance hallway and I gave an inward sigh of relief. If I was able to do that at a time like this, riding in a car shouldn't be too bad, right? Everyone was still silently looking at me.

Looking awkwardly up at Jack, I said, "Are we gonna go or what?"

It was as though someone had pressed the play button and everyone stepped back into action at what seemed to be a high speed. Thankfully, none of them were overly fussing over me. They knew better.

"Now," Camille started, putting a hand on my shoulder as she led me outside. "The gas tank is full – Jerry and I filled it up before we got here – and registration's in the glove compartment, but you shouldn't need that."

Jerry suddenly caught up with us and put a hand on my other shoulder, "Right, and I called the hospital and gave them your new address a few days ago, so if we hear anything we'll call."

I heard Angel mutter to Bobby behind me, "Oh God, someone save her from the odd couple…"

"No, buddy that's you and your hag," was the retort.

Snow was still lying on the ground in thick, icy patches, and the short path from the house to the road was more dangerous than it looked, despite the fact that Bobby had shoveled it this morning. I could see white clouds of vapor evaporating from everyone's mouths as they shivered in the cool air.

Jack was silently putting our bags in the trunk of the sorry excuse for a car. He always got like this around his brothers: quiet and reserved. It was an odd and scary thing to see, especially when he was so different when he was away from them. Even if the distance was of a minimum.

"Dylan."

Jerry's voice brought me out of my trance as he turned me by the shoulders to face him. "Are you gonna be okay?" he asked, as he pulled me into a tight hug, a hug, which caught me be surprise. I hated these kinds of hugs. They felt so artificial, even if they were genuine. I awkwardly patted him on the back before pulling him away, nodding.

'Yes, Jerry, I'm gonna be fine. Jack's gonna be fine, the car's gonna be fine, we're all gonna be fine." I wasn't buying my own words, but he seemed to, because Jack's tight and over exaggerated embrace distracted him. Camille gave me a quick, tight hug around the shoulders, followed by Sofi. The woman retreated out of the cold and into the house just as Angel pulled me into another slightly awkward hug before letting go.

"Don't let him do anything stupid," he told me, leaning down so our faces were at equal heights. "He's only young, ya know."

I nodded and giggled, "Aren't we all?" I put a mock serious tone on and said, "Don't worry, he's in good hands."

Angel nodded his head before patting me enthusiastically on the shoulder and turning to say goodbye to Jack. After which, he ran back into the house, obviously hoping for some "lovin' from his woman".

"What, you aren't gonna say goodbye, after I carried your heavy ass bag all the way out here?" Bobby asked, sticking his hands in his pockets.

I sighed, in pseudo irritation, "And who was that I saw handing my bag off to his younger and crippled brother?" I raised my eyebrows at him, crossing my arms as we stood just a few feet from each other, both of us refusing to move an inch. Finally, Bobby made the first move and hugged me in one tight squeeze that almost knocked the wind from my chest. He stepped away from me, dropping his hands back into his pockets.

"Cracker Jack," he said simply, getting the attention of his youngest brother who was still talking to Jerry about the car. "Come here and give your favorite brother a hug." Jack and Bobby shared a short, one-armed hug, before pulling and turning away from each other. "You kids be good," The eldest brother said, pointing a finger at both of us as he walked back up the wooden steps of the porch and stood in the doorway. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said, before adding, "Although, that's not really sayin' much."

Jack chuckled, shaking his head next to me. "Come on, we better get on the road, or else it'll take us more than a night to get there," he said, giving me a nudge on my arm and pulling me to the already packed car. I looked down at my watch. It was already 4:30. Jack and I were planning on staying overnight at a motel so we didn't have to deal with the New Year's Eve traffic on the highway.

I stood outside my door, shivering as my hands grasped the cold metal car door handle. I couldn't decide whether my limbs were shiver so violently from the cold wind or from the fear of getting in that damn car.

Just pull it and get in. The sooner you do it, the sooner it'll be over. Just do it. Do it. Do it—

Taking a deep breath, as though I were taking a dive into deep water, I pulled the black door of the car open and slid down into the dark leather seat, closing the door that locked me within my metal prison.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Oh, listen Jack, it's your favorite song!" I shouted with artificial excitement, as the intro to some pop song that makes me want to rip my ears off, began to boom through the small, straining speakers.

Jack shook his head, shouting over the constant and annoying drum beat, "I DON'T WANNA LISTEN TO THAT!" I giggled, adjusting the volume knob so that the radio was on full blast, as I sang along in a high-pitched voice to match the artist's. Jack smiled, "You're not bad, you know."

I snorted at that. "No I'm not. I'm just incredibly gifted at imitating mildly talented imbeciles."

He shook his head again, looking down at the packet of M&Ms, which he'd been hogging for the past hour and a half, in his lap. "You could at least take a compliment sometime." There was an uncomfortable in the car, except for the radio, which was beginning to become static and needed adjusting. I squirmed in my seat, my eyes drawn to the scenery passing by. I hated compliments with a passion. Especially from men. They made me feel like I was sitting naked in front of a bunch of people. "Okay, what's next?" Jack asked, cautiously, bringing up out ongoing license plate game. I was winning, and it was only partly because Jack was driving.

Readjusting the heat, I sighed, "What state were we on, again?"

"Last I saw, you were pointing out a red pickup with a Kansas plate, so…"

"And then you took liberty in slapping my arm, you tactless bastard," I said, before trying to think what came next in the alphabet of states. God, how I hated Geography. "It goes Kansas and then… Kentucky!" I shouted, pointing out the yellow vintage VW bug that drove in front of us, which clearly sported a Kentucky license plate.

"That's not fair, that came around from your side!" Jack shouted over the deafening static that was whining from the speakers.

I held out an offering hand, "Fine, this is a one way street, change lanes. But I can assure you I will still be beating your ass with ease."

"This is a stupid game. And plus, you're just lucky."

Looking out the window, I said, "The License Plate Game is actually a game of quick eyes and mental capabilities. And possibly geographical knowledge, but that's it. It teaches you to be more observant. Luck hardly even begins to come into it, Louisiana."

"Okay, Louisiana is most assuredly not my name," Jack answered, sharply, causing me to give him my best "you're stupid" look as I pointed to the car that had just crossed two lanes in front of ours, the word "Louisiana", clear as day. "Oh, right. Sweet."

I smacked my forehead with my palm, skeptically. "You know, sometimes I wonder about your mentality." I ran my fingers along the fogging window. "God, I'm not gonna stoop as low as to not call you by your real name. Pet names make me sick, anyway." I shuddered at the thought, making Jack laugh from the seat next to me. "But, you know, there's a first time for everything and you do kinda suit 'Louisiana.'"

"Dylan, I wish I could accept that offer, but I'm afraid I'm neither southern, 12 years old, nor a girl, so…" I cracked up.

"Try telling your brothers that," I snorted, leaning down to pick up the bottle of water that was rolling around at my feet. "Fine, we'll just have to think up a really good nickname for you."

"Yeah, something manly and strong…"

He received another incredulous look from my side of the car, "Manly and… Strong? What, you mean like Thor Solidman Mercer?" My face was screwed up in either disgusted or amusement of the very thought of people calling Jack "Thor". I took a sip of water before dropping the bottle back on the car floor.

It was my turn to be on the receiving end of an incredulous look, "Thor… Solidman…?"

"You're right you could never pull off a name as cool as Thor."

"Are you calling me uncool?"

Shaking my head, "Nay, my friend, I just don't think you could pull it off."

Jack scowled, "Hey now, you better be careful, you wouldn't want me to christen you, like… Hang on, what is your full name?"

I leaned back and turned so my back was facing him in my seat, frowning. "It's dumb," I mumbled, pulling a face at the kid in the car next to us.

"Just say it," he said, looking at me inquisitively.

"No, now pass me a cigarette," I rolled my eyes. I knew shouldn't have brought up names…

He reached down into the door pocket and I heard the rustling of torn wrapping plastic. "Come on, just spit it out."

I kicked at the dashboard, "For god's sake: NO."

"Say it, or I won't give you a cigarette."

Eying the M&Ms still in his lap, I whimpered, "What about the M&Ms?"

Jack shook his head.

It was silent in the car as I worked up the courage. I sighed, finally giving in. "Okay, fine." I took another deep breath, "If you tell anyone, though, especially Angel and Bobby, or I'll will personally make sure that it's the last thing you ever say." When Jack had nodded, looking slightly scared, I took one more breath, placing my hand in front of my mouth, my elbow propped up on the car door, "Sss…J…D…"

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Jack asked, propping a hand behind his ear.

"SUNSHINE MARY JANE DYLAN!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. I shouted it directly into his ear, causing him to flinch away from me. "Now don't you dare laugh!" I could feel myself blushing ferociously

"Sunshine Mary Jane…?" Jack stuttered. He wasn't smiling, or maybe he was, he looked more surprised than anything.

I turned away from him again, readjusting myself in a curled up position. I rolled my eyes, "I told you it was stupid. My parents were fucking hippies."

He laughed, "Yeah, no shit. But, seriously, it's nice. It suits you."

I flipped around to face him again, leaning forward in my seat, trying to appear threatening. "Take that back right now, Louisiana Mercer, unless you've lost all need for you right arm!" I sighed, letting my back hit the leather seat and my eyes returning to the scenery. "I mean, what kind of parents would be as cruel as to name their own daughter after: one, an entity of nature, two, marijuana, and three, a folk singer. It should be made illegal," I muttered.

Jack ran his hands along the steering wheel, mumbling something to himself. "…Sunshine Mary Jane Dylan Harrison…" I heard, when I finally could pick up his words.

"WOULD YOU STOP!" I yelled over my shoulder. I curled my legs up next to the door and leaned my head on the glass of the window next to me. "My parents are fucking mental cases…"

"Your parents are fucking geniuses," he retorted with a snort.

"Ya see, only a hippy would say that."

"Whatever, Sunshine."

I glared at his blurry reflection. "I hate you. Now give me a fucking cigarette."

XXXXXXXXX

"Give me the keys."

"No."

"Dylan, give me the keys."

"Nuh-uh."

My head was spinning in a good way.

I loved having a buzz.

"Dylan, you're drunk, just give me the keys."

I knew he wasn't really mad; he was almost as drunk as I was, so he had absolutely no room to talk. God, champagne really goes to my head.

"Ask me nicely and then maybe I'll give them to you."

Why the hell was I acting so childish? Oh yeah, those six glasses of Merlot and then the stuff the gave us after the meal… Whatever it was.

I dangled the keys in front of his face, "Come on, Michael, just say it and get it over with."

He grinned, sheepishly. "Fine. Please, Dylan may I have the keys so that I can drive us home for the next hour."

My feet were stumbling on a graveled lot, my high heels becoming a nuisance and I was tempted to remove them. Instead, I dropped the car keys into Michael's open palm before heading for the red Volvo. Unsuccessfully, might I add, seeing as Michael had to catch me three or five times, until he finally had to put me into the passenger's seat himself.

Michael got into the drivers seat next to me, after which, he gave me a tender kiss on the cheek. "I love how you're less stubborn when you're drunk," he said with another grin. The streetlamps of the open gravel parking lot outside of the restaurant where Michael had had his promotion party, lit up half of his face in a stunning orange, leaving the rest of his head in shadow. A crescent moon was hanging low in the sky and I could see it from my passenger's side window. What was glowing of it, anyway. Only a sliver of light could be seen from the dark blue, clouded sky. I was suddenly aware of how cold it was in the car and the air outside and I wrapped my shawl tightly around the little black dress having to adjust and readjust throughout the night, since it persistently threatened to fall down completely.

I felt another press of his lips before hearing and feeling the ignition start to rumble beneath my feet. Reaching behind me, I grabbed my seatbelt tightly and fastened it securely in the buckle at my side. The windows were fogging already and I instinctively turned the dial of the hot air in the dashboard to blow up onto the windshield, watching as the mist slowly disappeared from the glass.

The car lurched forward as Michael pressed down on the gas pedal, although it may have seemed harsher than it actually was. I gravel crunched under the tires as we pulled out and began making our way down a lonely, abandoned street.

"I'm glad you dragged me to that," I said, after thinking for a second. "I honestly didn't think I was gonna have as good a time as I did." My eyes shifted over to the face next to me and I smiled. "Thanks," I said, almost as an after thought.

He let out a laugh, "Believe me, darling, it was my pleasure. You are certainly a joy to be around." He thought for a moment, "Especially when you've been drinking."

I rolled my eyes, "That's just because I'm more willing to put out when I've been drinking." This caused him to laugh again and I reached out my hand for him to take it, which he did, rubbing my knuckles with his unoccupied right thumb, soothingly.

In our relationship, these moments were the ones I cherished most. Within these moments, neither of us had to speak to understand what was going through each other's heads. We loved one another, that was clear. Other people could see it, too, which to me, was a sign that maybe, just maybe, we'd be together forever. Well, I don't know about forever, but we had something. Something good. Something that made me fell almost complete, more complete than I had ever felt in my life. Maybe that's why I loved Michael so much. Maybe that's why he loved me so much.

I'd been looking at the glowing, green, digital numbers of the clock on the dashboard and I remember that it was exactly 1:23 AM when I felt it. It was almost impossible not to feel it, but I definitely felt it, as it slammed into the side of the driver's side of the car. Michael's side of the car. Air bags opened on all sides of me, and there was screaming in my ears. I could feel my hand still gripping onto Michael's, which to my absolute horror seemed to be limp. My body was being thrown in right, left, and finally whatever had had its hold on the car released us and the vehicle started to spin unconditionally. The bags seemed to have deflated and there was a throbbing pain on the left side of my head. I realized that I was the source of the shrieks in my ears. The tires were screeching with me, almost mocking my screams.

My brain was trying to will the spinning to stop. It was as though it was all happening in slow motion, even though I knew, in reality, it wasn't.

I saw it as a blessing when we finally lurched forward and everything was consumed by complete darkness.

XXXXXXXX

I woke up with a start to find that I was back in Jerry's car and I let out a sigh of relief. It was dark outside except for the glowing pink and green neon sign that was hanging above the parked car proudly bore the words, "Lansing Motel." Looking next to me, I saw that Jack was nowhere to be seen. I leaned my head back onto the headrest of the seat and closed my eyes, trying to rid my eyes of the bleariness that had overcome them while I was sleeping.

Reopening my eyes, I examined the building I was parked in front of. The building definitely wasn't one of class. Hell, by the state of it, it probably worth about 2 stars at the most. My eyes fell on the poorly lit digital clock. 10:45. Just over an hour until New Year's.

There was a startling knock on my window, causing me to jump in my seat, but I relaxed when I saw Jack's face. I unlocked the door and opened it, resting my feet on the pavement of the lot.

"Come on, we're gonna spend the night here," he said before walking around to the trunk to get our bags out.

I stood up, my legs shaking from the sudden, unexpected weight of my body. My breath was misting steadily in front of my lips, which began to quiver to quiver slightly from the cold and I could feel my teeth threaten to shatter together. I looked around at the rest of the parking lot, freely, no longer constricted to the view from the fogged up windows of the car.

Despite the fact that it was dark and there were absolutely no street lamps around, the space was pretty well lit by the neon lights of the motel. At first glance, the place looked pretty abandoned, except for the three or four other cars, all parked as far away as possible from each other. But as I took a closer look, I could see small orange lights emitting from a dark corner of the parking lot, orange lights, which I recognized immediately as either cigarettes or something else. Knowing these kinds of motels, it was probably some sort of undeterminable something else, being smoked by some kids. On the opposite side of the motel, I could see a fogged up car, which I could only assume were people having sex. I smiled, thinking of Sofi and Angel, who were at home, probably doing the exact same thing. Near the middle of the entire parking lot, I could see the outlines of some guys with beers clutched in their drunken hands, their fingers wrapped tightly around the necks. There was the occasional smashing of glass and then laughing coming from their area and I started to feel uneasy.

Slamming the door, I followed Jack around to the trunk, but he was already slamming it shut, holding both our bags with one hand. With his other hand, he grabbed mine, pulling me quickly across the parking lot past the din that continued to sound.

Finally, we pushed through the glass and wooden doors into the reception area of the motel, and my chest eased the tension that had been riding up ever since I'd woken up from my nightmare. The inside, I was sorry to say, was just about as piteous as the outside lot. The rug, which was a mixture of dark greens and browns, and possibly some pinks, although I wasn't sure if they were intentional or not, appeared to be held down to the floor and each and every corner of the four walls by duct tape since, from what I could see, the carpeting was not supposed to be for this specific room. I lifted my eyes from the ground and looked up at the front desk in front of us. The thing looked as though it'd been rotting in that same place since the building was built, as did the man behind the counter.

Jack was the first to snap out of his daze as he walked up to the wooden desk and setting our bags down in front of it. "Hi," he said, trying his best to smile at the old man, who cracked one eye open, his cheek resting on the palm of his left hand. "Could we have a room for two for the night?"

Slowly but surely, the man began to sift through the papers in front of him. The phone rang, and slowly but surely, he picked it up, speaking in

Then it hit me: "a room for two?" Since when had we agreed on getting a room for two? How about two rooms for one? Why hadn't he asked me if we wanted one room for two or two rooms for one? It wouldn't have taken a lot of effort to just say those few little words: "Dylan, do you want a single or a double?" But then again, this was Jack. He was just special. And me, I had a temper, especially when it came to special people. Okay, well, not special people, just namely him.

Taking two giant steps up to stand next to him, I whispered harshly, "A room for two?"

Jack nodded, being careful not to look me in the eyes, "Chill out, Dylan. It's cheaper this way." I grinned, still looking at the wall behind the bald man's head, "And besides, now there's no need to try to bed me, I've done all the work for you."

"Did that involve your right hand or your left hand?" I asked with interest, leaning an elbow down on the wood. He glared at me.

We heard the phone hang up and we both turned our attention back to the man, who continued to try to find a pen under the mess of papers on his desk. He finally found one and opened a big day planner, writing us in one of eight spaces for New Year's Eve. Adjusting his wire framed glasses to the bridge of his nose, he said, "That'll be thirty dollars a night."

I heard Jack exhale before opening his wallet and throwing three tens down on the counter.

"Enjoy your stay," the man said in reply, taking the money and putting a room key down in front of us, which Jack took, picking up our bags again.

XXXXXXXXX

20 minutes to the New Year…

20 minutes to think of a resolution…

30 minutes to break that resolution…

The room was dark except for the flickering light from the television, which was probably on its last few days of life. But besides that, I couldn't see a damn thing. The only thing I could hear was Jack fucking around on his guitar from the headboard of the bed and the low buzz of the neon sign outside our window.

Overall, the room was complete shit. I still hadn't dared to remove my shoes and let my feet touch the floor that appeared to have a layer of grease or something of the same consistency. The bathroom, which neither of us had had the courage to enter for reasons that made me wanna puke blood. The bed was probably the best feature of the whole room, covered in, from what my eyes could see, a clean yet, discolored duvet that barely stretched the length of the bed and after close observation, I realized that it was because the blanket was meant for a single bed. Nice…

Folding my legs under myself, I leaned back, propping up my upper body with my elbows, still keeping my eyes on the television, which was now showing a happy picture of the ball dropping in Times Square.

"Shouldn't we be getting drunk or something?" I heard Jack ask, his guitar stopping abruptly.

I shrugged my shoulders, "Do you have anything to get drunk with?" My eyes were still on the TV set but I could feel his eyes on the back of my head.

"No…"

"Well then, there ya go."

I could almost feel his thinking process until he finally spoke. "Hang on a second," he said, as I felt him roll smoothly from the bed, placing his guitar safely on the pillow on my side. I furrowed my eyebrow as he hastily walked over to where our bags lay on the ground. After rummaging through his suitcase for a few moments he let out a triumphant, "AH HA!" holding up a bottle of whisky.

"Where the hell'd you get that?" I asked, sitting back up on the bed and turning my whole body to face him fully.

He looked pensively down at the label, rubbing his hands along the glass, smiling. "It's been in here forever: Mom gave it to me when I left home and I guess I just never got around to drinking it." He was looking at the bottle with such nostalgia that I couldn't decide whether I should pull him out of it or not.

Finally, I cleared my throat, "Do you wanna drink it with me?" I asked with a weak smile at his outline, the light from the TV hitting my face softly.

His eyes looked over at me and he nodded in silence. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw the flicker of a tear in his eye, but I brushed the thought off as quickly as it had arrived.

Jack walked over to the dresser and pulled two glasses off the wooden tray with a clink of glass on glass. He walked over to where I sat on the bed and sat down next to me, fiddling with the wrapper around the lid of the bottle. After watching him for a few minutes as he unsuccessfully tried to open it, I said, "Gimme that!" grabbing the bottle from him and began to tear the wrapping off of it. I handed the whiskey back to him and he took it, giving me a look that clearly said, "I could've done that."

I watched him pour the liquid into the first glass and press it into my right hand calmly. I stirred it with my finger for a few moments before clearing my throat again, and when I spoke, it was barely audible. "You miss her, don't you?" I asked, not daring to look up from the glass in my hands.

I might've been imagining it, but I could feel him take a short intake of breath. Great, I hadn't even taken one sip of alcohol and already I was spouting idiocy.

"It's impossible not to," he said, taking a sip of his own drinking. I followed suit, downing the glass of its contents, my head spinning already, but whether it was from the alcohol or not was a mystery.

Someday I'll have the courage to carry on a conversation with him about Evelyn. Someday he'll have answers to all my questions about her and what it was like being in her family. But not today. Not tonight. This definitely wasn't the time or the place and neither of us were in the right frame of mind.

When I looked back up at his face I saw he was smiling. It was a small smile, but it was definitely there. I smiled back, holding my glass out for him to pour. "What're your resolutions for this year?" I asked. It was a cliché question, I know, believe me I know, but I really was interested. New Years Resolutions can tell a lot about a person's character. I unmuted the TV as the one minute count down started, the reporter on the screen counting in a disturbingly high pitched voice and I could almost feel my ears bleeding.

He was silent for a few moments, thinking hard about the question at hand and for some reason my heart was pounding hard in my chest. Maybe it was because of what I was afraid the answer would hold. Or maybe of what the answer wouldn't hold. I downed the second glass of whiskey, my head spinning slightly faster.

Finally, he spoke, a small smile playing on his lips, "Give up smoking," he said, quietly.

I laughed softly, speaking just as softly as he had, "Me too."

7

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5

I held out my hand to seal the deal, grinning. But then something I never expected happened.

4

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Jack gently put his hand behind my head, our lips meeting, both of us in an eager, insecure teenage fashion. I felt every single emotion possible whirling around our joined forms, neither of us able to see where this particular moment would take us, and to be completely honest, I didn't really care. My brain started to hurt when I was the person who deepened the kiss, an act which he did in return, his fingers burying themselves in my hair, soothingly caressing my softly with his thumb. I didn't want it to stop, but in the end, I was the one who gently dragged myself from the comfort and gentle sanctuary of his lips.

Something wasn't right.

What was that taste?

I should've known.

I hate the taste of metal.

Happy fucking New Year.

A/N: Wow, apologies from yours truly. Honestly, I'm really sorry about the lack of updating. I kinda suck. But I'm hoping this chapter will make up for it a little. I would write a more detailed Author's Note but I really need to hurry to my SAT tutor. I'm taking the real thing on Saturday so, please, everybody wish me all the luck in the world. I'm really gonna need it.

Shocker #2: 58 reviews… Just amazing. I love each and everyone of you. I say, by next chapter we'll have reached 70 reviews. Ambitious, I know, but I need to set SOME goals for myself.

Sorry this chapter probably has an unacceptable amount of mistakes. I have to have breakfast and I really desperately wanna get this online, so maybe I'll replace the chapter when it's been properly proofread.

Lastly, I'm terrified that I'm slipping into Mary Sueville, please let me know if I am and I'll try fix it. THANKS!

Short but sweet review replies:

Embry – It's always I joy getting your reviews! They're so sweet. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Duchess4ever – Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Review again soon!

X3MissieAttyn – Hi::waves: I hope Florida's treatin' you right! I'm actually gonna reply to your email in the next day or so. I promise! You know, in between SAT training and all that jazz. Also, this is really weird, but everytime I see a commercial for that reality TV show about cheerleading I think of you. Okay, not so weird, but I hope you're having a good time and tell Maureena I say hi. Also give the captain of the cheerleading team a nice punch in the face. JK. Sorta…

Electricxrain – HERRO! OMG I HATE filling in fucking bubbles on tests. Am I the only one who gets crap in their hand after like 7 questions. I took a practice SAT yesterday for 4 hours + so I really know where you're coming from. But, yeah, at least it didn't have science on it. I hope they went well though! That really mega sucks about the talent show. Getting turned down from singing really sucks. My music teacher actually spent the whole of an hour on Friday telling me that I sucked so, again I feel ya. I hope you have a vacation soon to get away from the hell that is school! You sound like you deserve it!

AngWasHere – Don't be sorry! I looked back at the chapter and I realized that I was going slightly out of character. But thank you for being so nice about it. There are a lot of Fan fiction groups out there that don't take kindly to when characters are out of character coughstarwarscough. But I hope this chapter was slightly better. Thanks again!

Smilin Flash – Leanne, my little English rose, I am missing you dreadfully and I love you. Tell Louis I love him too but a significant amount less. I hope you enjoyed the fit in this chapter. This one's for you. Xoxoxoxoxoxooxoxo I'll call you later!

Alicia – You're a fool. But I love you.

Morose Scarlet – Okay, this sounds really creepy, but every time I've needed some cheering up, I've gone back and read your review because, well, frankly, it was amazing. And on top of that, you've put me on your favorites! I hope you liked this chapter too and it made me so happy to see that you thought I was keeping everyone in character! Review again soon!

Athena moraliasx – Thank you so much for the review! I'm so glad people are actually finding this story remotely funny. And plus, your review made me tingle with glee. Making characters real is one of the hardest things to do when writing, so the fact that you think they sound real, just makes me all the more pleased with myself. I hope to hear from you again!

Icy-dropletz – Welcome aboard! Your review made me smile! Before I started this story I'd never been called awesome more times than I have in the past 2 months of writing this! I hope this chapter was worth the wait! Were you able to get hold of that song? Review again soon!

Shining Star in Valinor – Wow, you just made my month! It always amazes me whenever people review ALL the chapters in one go! So, congratulations, I'm sending you e-hugs and an e-hot chocolate! Don't worry about it finishing too fast, there are a lot of things that are gonna go down in chapters to come. A sequel is lined up, titles are being considered, so keep reading, because, for the moment, this baby ain't goin' nowhere! And this time, the rocking of socks, is on your part! Xoxoxo

Lastly, a VERY special shout out to ImAdctd2A3rdClssRkStr for Pming me and reminding me to get my ass in gear. Not in those words, obviously and certainly not as harshly. So everyone, take your hats off because, if it was for her, this chapter probably would've been posted like next month! xoxoxoxo