Chapter Ten: Just Peachy

AN: I know it's been a while, 4 people that review, but I'm juggling quite a bit of stuff at the moment. I'll update when I can.

The ceiling fan swirled round and round. The alarm clock read 2:45 P.M. Ethan had been lying in bed since he had woken up. He was alone for the week, with his parents leaving to go on a cruise to use his father's vacation days. He groaned as he stood up, walking to his bathroom. As he relieved himself he looked in the mirror. He hadn't shaven since Sunday morning, six days ago. That was the day he slept with Rachel. The day he ruined his relationship with Santana. His Santana. He scowled at his reflection and turned away. He opened his shower door and stepped in. As the warm water hit him, he finally woke up completely. Thirty minutes later he stepped out, and put on jeans and a T-Shirt that were among the many clothes strung across his bedroom floor. As he strapped on his shoes, his phone started to ring. The name Sam Evans flashed on the screen. Sighing, Ethan silenced his phone and went downstairs. He grabbed his keys and wallet from the kitchen counter, and went outside to get in his car.

Eventually he reached Wilson's Liquor Store. He parked near the front, and stepped into the store. He looked around, and took of his sunglasses. Seymour Wilson was at the counter as usual, and the store was nearly empty. After grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels he walked to the counter.

"Is that it, Jack?" Wilson asked, using the name it said on Ethan's fake I.D. that Puckerman had procured for him.

"Pack of Turkish Royals." Ethan said monotonously, reaching for his wallet. Wilson put the bottle of Jack, and the pack of cigarettes into a brown bag. Ethan paid, thanked him, and drove back into his house. He walked into his house and sat on the couch. He turned on a movie and opened the bottle, wincing as he took a big drink. Sometime later he heard the front door open.

Ethan paused the movie, "What the fuck?" Ethan wondered aloud, standing up and grabbing a bat he had put on the wall before stumbling to the location of the sound.

"DUDE!" The blond-haired intruder shouted as Ethan swung around the corner, bat high above his head.

"Shit," Ethan sighed, dropping the bat on the tile floor. He jumped back onto his oasis of a couch.

"What do you want?" Ethan slurred.

"Are you drunk?" Sam said.

Ethan sighed heavily, "Not yet."

"It's 4:06"

"And?" Ethan said, taking another swig of the bottle. "Why are you here?"

"You haven't picked up my calls, or answered my texts. I thought you died or something." Sam said, walking to sit on the coach with Ethan.

"Yeah, my phone is upstairs." Ethan said, picking up the remote and pressing play.

"How are you?"

"Oh, I'm just peachy." Ethan deadpanned.

"Don't bullshit me. Nobody has seen you since your attempt to win Santana back through music. Which begs the question: Country? Really?"

"Oh blow me, Bieber." Ethan said to a stunned Sam, "Yeah, Santana told me."

"That's not the point. The point is, you gotta get your shit in check." Sam said to Ethan who rolled his eyes and lit a cigarette.

"What, and you're smoking now?" Sam asked.

"Mhmm." Ethan said, taking a deep drag.

"That shit'll kill you, you know."

Ethan put on a mock-fear face. "No, Really? Thanks man. I don't know what I would've done without you telling me that." Ethan said, nevertheless putting the cigarette out in the bowl he was using as sort of a makeshift ashtray.

"Your sarcasm wasn't needed," Sam said.

"Oh, but it was wanted," Ethan replied.

"I just got back from Finn's house and…"

"FUCK!" Ethan said burying his face into the armrest.

"What?" Sam said, jumping up from the couch.

"I forgot about Finn." Ethan said, lifting his head to face Sam. "How is he?"

"He's good," Sam said, "A whole hell of a lot better than you. It's weird, the dude who got action is the one more depressed than the one who didn't."

"It wasn't about the sex, Sam." Ethan said, standing up, "I betrayed Santana, and now she'll never forgive me for it. I fucked up, Sam. I fucked up."

"Calm down. I was just joking." Sam said, putting his hands up in defense.

"Whatever." Ethan said sitting back on the couch. He grabbed the bottle and brought it to his lips. Swallowing, he reached out, "Want some?"

Sam looked at him, then the bottle, then back at Ethan.

"Sam, I asked if you want a drink, simple question. Not fucking trigonometry." Ethan said irritably.

Sam took the bottle, taking a quick swig. "You need to fix this, buddy. I don't know what you can do, but you at least need to try. You owe her that much."

Not sure which "her" Sam was referring to, Ethan just nodded his head. "I'll try."

Eight hours later, Sam had to go home, and Ethan was alone. He stumbled up to his bedroom, and sat in his computer chair. Signing onto Facebook, he saw what he was hoping not to.

Santana Lopez went from "In a relationship" to "Single"

Ethan stared slack-jawed at his computer moniter. He knew they were broken up, but he didn't like it on there. It made it all seem so real. Wait a minute, Ethan thought¸ it took her this long to do it, she's obviously not over me yet. And in his inebriated state, that actually made sense. He stood up and grabbed his guitar before racing downstairs, skipping the last two steps, and ran out the door. He was planning on driving, but after many failed attempts to get the key in the door, he opted to run to her house, but remembering to use this situation in case anyone ever called him "irresponsible" in the future.

Santana's house was four blocks away from his, but the normally fifteen minute jog felt like years to Ethan as he stood on her grass. Swallowing his pride, he picked a small stone up and lightly threw it to her window. No answer. He did it again, and Santana's head appeared in the window.

"Ethan, what the fuck are you doing here?" Santana whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

"I can't li-" Ethan shouted before getting shushed by Santana.

"Sorry," Ethan started in a quieter tone, "I can't live without you. I know I messed up, I know that. But you gotta give me one more chance."

He played opening notes on his guitar, playing through Santana's sarcastic remark "Really? Singing outside at night to win me back? Cliché."

It still feels like our first night together
Feels like the first kiss and
It's gettin' better baby
No one can better this
I'm still hold on and you're still the one
The first time our eyes met it's the same feelin' I get
Only feels much stronger and I wanna love ya longer
You still turn the fire on

So If you're feelin' lonely.. don't
You're the only one I'd ever want
I only wanna make it good
So if I love ya a little more than I should

Please forgive me I know not what I do
Please forgive me I can't stop lovin' you
Don't deny me

This pain I'm going through
Please forgive me
If I need ya like I do
Please believe me
Every word I say is true
Please forgive me I can't stop loving you
Still feels like our best times are together
Feels like the first touch

We're still gettin' closer baby
Can't get close enough I'm still holdin' on
You're still number one I remember the smell of your skin
I remember everything
I remember all your moves
I remember you
I remember the nights ya know I still do

Ethan was getting into the last chorus before the porch lights turned on. He smiled, expecting Santana, but he looked up and saw she was still in her room. A muscular Hispanic man stepped out into the cold October night.

"Oh, Shit!" Ethan said, ducking down. He crab walked into the neighbor's yard before sprinting off to his house. That's not even close to how I wanted that to end. Ethan thought, moments before stepping in a pot hole and faceplanting on the concrete. He first checked to see if his guitar was broken. Fortunately it was fine, but his leg wasn't. "Fucking, Shit!" Ethan said before limping back to his house. He was looking forward to polishing off that bottle.

AN: That was fun to write, and I'm 83% sure I'm getting better. Song is "Please Forgive Me" by Bryan Adams. Reviews?