Finals have kicked my butt. Now that they're done with, expect updates. Thanks for bearing with my negligent booty. Enjoy! Leave reviews for us! :) Special announcement next chapter!
"If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?"
-William Shakespeare
Aly's POV
So, uh, from the last chapter, you guys all probably think I'm some kind of arsonist. But if you had just received the news I had, you'd want to burn your idiotic little sister's shit too.
So Robbie backed out of the trip. That's not a problem. Since I don't have to deal with him now, it's actually a good thing.
Having Gwen go behind my back and inviting Tori Vega of all people on a trip where we'll have to spend three days together in the same beach house? That is the opposite of a good thing.
So, a bad thing.
Why. Why would Gwen do this to me. She knows how much Tori irritates me. She totally deserves to have her stupid Glee poster burn and crumple into a pile of ashes onto the carpet of Beck's old room.
The look on her face as the Glee cast was no more was absolutely priceless.
"Aly!" she screeched, looking down at the smoldering ashes. "What is wrong with you?!"
"I should be asking the same thing!" I threw down Beck's lighter (I wonder what he uses that for…) and, with narrowed eyes, told her, "You invited Tori to Cancun when Jade still isn't coming?"
"You know Jade's just going to buy a ticket with her dad's credit card or something," Gwen weakly tried to defend. "Tori actually respects her dad, so she couldn't do that! I thought you and Tori were starting to become friends. I can't keep up with your on again, off again attitude!"
Why did the lyrics to Hot 'n' Cold by Katy Perry just pop into my head?
Because that song is awesome, that's why.
Though there's probably another reason.
"How could you do this? As if this whole Cancun thing didn't suck enough!"
Gwen gawked at me, like the idiot she is. "Do you even hear yourself when you talk? It's like you don't even have any idea how much of a total brat you are!"
Um, excuse me? "Me, a brat?"
Gwen let out a huff. "Yes! You keep bitching and moaning about how you want a car, but you wouldn't even be able to drive it yet without a parent or Beck in there with you! That's, like, the definition of spoiled!"
I put my hands on my hips. "Coming from one of the biggest brats I've ever met, that doesn't really mean much."
"Really. I'm the brat here?"
"You see anyone else in this room?"
"How am I bratty?"
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. "Please, you're way worse than me when you don't get your way. You just don't realize it because you always get your way."
Gwen scoffed. "I do not."
"Do too." That sounded really mature. "You flipped out when you thought you weren't going to be the baby around here anymore and started dressing all goth and shit."
"Oh, really? You're really bringing that up again?"
"Again? You say it like it happened ten years ago. It only happened like last week."
"… Shut up!"
"Ooooh, good retort." I rolled my eyes, right as our father threw the door open. Oh geez, he's probably coming up here to ask why he hasn't heard the vacuum running yet.
"Girls, what's with all the yelling? And why do I smell smoke?" he demanded, looking between Gwen and I for an answer. He got half of his questions answered when he saw the lighter and the pile of musical dramedy ashes. "What in God's name have you two been doing up here?!"
Gwen cast me a glance. "You wanna take this one, Als?"
I hate my sister.
/ /
I explained my poster-burning tale to James. He was apathetic to my pain over the plane ticket exchange part of the story. I'm pretty sure all he heard was 'blah blah blah I set stuff on fire in the house because I am the horrible middle child in this house blabbity bluh'.
So, after properly yelling at me while Gwen stood behind me and most likely made 'neener neener' motions at the back of my head, now not only do we still have to clean up Beck's room for Nana Joyce, but Dad is making Beck keep an eye on us. So he's pretty much just sitting on his bed, watching us slave away while he texts Jade and criticizes me.
Just a normal day for Beck Oliver.
"Didn't anyone ever teach you not to play with fire, Allison?" Beck asked, a faint smirk on his face as he picked up the lighter and sat it on the nightstand.
I still kind of wonder what he does with that. Maybe lighting things on fire turns Jade on.
Actually, that makes more sense than most of the other possibilities I thought up.
"The Vegas are a legitimate reason for fire," I muttered, unplugging the vacuum to put away since I was done cleaning up the carpet and Gwen's poster.
"I'm sure they are," I heard him call out as I rolled the device of hatred out and put it back in its closet. I sense sarcasm in my brother's voice. Hmph.
After walking back in, I noticed that Gwen had finished dusting and the bed was all made and everything was dandy. Great, now I don't have to be here with the Tori inviter. Who I am still very angry with.
She's not exactly happy looking right now either.
Good.
Before I could tell her to get out, she did so herself, but not before very purposefully bumping into my shoulder. Ow.
I mean, that little gank.
She didn't say a word to Beck and I the entire time we were in there, not even when I kept insulting her under my breath. I enjoyed it quite a lot, but I think I should be concerned.
Too bad. Gwendolyn does not deserve my concern at this point in time.
She's probably all pissy that her favorite poster is now in that vacuum in the hall closet. But she can always buy a new damn poster. I can't buy not having Tori on our trip.
I could always bribe her... But she probably really wants to go to Cancun with Andre. So they can make the beast with two backs in my aunt's beach house.
Gross.
"I still don't get why you're so mad at her," Beck said, looking up from his cell phone and at me.
"Aren't you mad?" I crossed my arms. "We could have given that ticket to Jade. Then we all would have been happy and Lea Michele wouldn't have had to burn to death."
Beck's phone pinged, so he took a minute to look at the text he just received. "Jade says she found her dad's credit card. She's booking her flight as we speak."
"... That is not the point and you know it."
Beck sighed. "Allison, can you please try to be pleasant, at least when we get there? This is my vacation too. I don't want to have to worry about having to tell Mom and Dad that you strangled Gwen with seaweed or something."
Then you probably shouldn't have given me the idea.
"Gah, fine. Whatever."
"Yeah, that sounded like you meant it," Beck said, again with the sarcasm, as he raised an eyebrow at me and walked out. Probably so he could sexy text Jade without having his little sister in the room to ruin the mood.
Hell, they probably flat-out sext. It's different from sexy texting, as I have mentioned before.
Bad thoughts about sexual exchanges between my brother and his girlfriend just make this day even peachier.
/ /
Hey y'all, dancing out my frustrations.
It actually helped, considering Gwen is no longer dead to me... Dancing makes me happy, and it calms me down. It's one of the many reasons I love it and want to do it for the rest of my life.
That, and you get to dress like a slut, for an actual reason.
There was a knock on my shut and locked door, followed by an, "Als, can you come downstairs? I made you some nummy oats with soy milk!"
Wait, that sounded like Gwendolyn. The girl who wanted me to drop dead for the destruction of her Glee memorabilia. She made me oatmeal despite all that?
I shut off my music and unlocked the door. After opening the door, observing the look on her face and crossing my arms, I asked, "Is it poisoned?"
Gwen's smile stayed firm and she let out a small laugh. "No. I guarantee that nothing in it will kill you."
"... Fine." As we started down the hall and down the steps, I couldn't help but ask, "So, uh, why?"
"Why what?"
"Why, after the Glee cast went up in flames thanks to me, did you make me a snack?"
Stepping off the final step, Gwen shrugged. "I'm a forgiving person, Allison. You know that."
I followed her into the kitchen. "Yeah, I guess that's true. The stupidest people are generally the most forgiving."
She pushed my smirking face and muttered, "Oh, shut up and eat your stupid oatmeal before I dump it over your head." She giggled while she said that, so it's all good.
She actually did a decent job with it. The oats aren't drowned in the soy milk, but she didn't skimp out either, like she usually does. It actually looked pretty good. She even put a banana on the side.
You'd think she was trying to get my love and affection back with the bribe of food.
It might work.
I sat down at the bar and took a drink from the chilled water bottle she placed in front of me before I started eating. Hmm. They taste better than usual. Kudos, Gwenny.
"This is my way of apologizing for giving the other ticket to Tori," Gwen murmured as she took the bar stool across from me. "I really should have checked to see if you'd be cool with that, considering your... special relationship with her."
Ugh. I have to say something mature and adult-like here, don't I? "What you did really wasn't that bad. I've just been in a bad mood lately. But that didn't give me any right to set afire to your property." Another bite of oatmeal. "And for what it's worth, this oatmeal kicks ass."
"Yeah." Gwen smiled and looked down at her lap. "I'm sure it does."
Hmm. Smug Gwen is smug. Something seems off...
But there was no time to think about that, as Beck walked into the kitchen, casting us a glance as he did so. "Wow, you two are in the same room and there are no open flames in sight. How about that."
Oh, haha. I'm Beckett Oliver and I'm a comedian.
Just try and imagine me saying that in a mocking Beck voice. It's a lot funnier.
"You're hilars, bro," I muttered, tightening my ponytail before I consumed more oats.
Beck gently yanked on said ponytail and I could hear him opening the fridge. "Well, I'm just glad nobody had to die for there to be something resembling peace around here again." Heh, yeah, that's usually what it takes. "I'm gonna watch a movie in the living room. You guys in?"
Gwen grinned and nodded. "Yeah! We'll be there in a sec."
Beck held his thumb up as he walked out, a glass of Mountain Fizz in his other hand.
I looked down at my bowl, seeing I had eaten about half of it. I guess that's enough. I looked up at Gwen and said, "Let's go before Beck picks out some movie with Vin Diesel." I stood up, dropped my bowl in the sink, and turned to look at my sister. "What brand of soy milk did you use? It takes way better than the stuff we usually get."
Gwen, eyebrow raised, got up and walked past me. "Oh? Did I forget to tell you?" She leaned against the fridge and casually shrugged. "We were out of soy milk."
Uh. Okay... "Then what did you use in my oatmeal?"
Gwen shrugged again, the same smug little look on her face. "Oh, we had some two percent that I substituted."
I stepped closer to her. "Two percent milk?"
The corners of her mouth twitched even farther up. "Well it's certainly not two percent tuna water."
What.
"What is wrong with you?!" I screamed. "I'm lactose intolerant!"
She didn't seem at all shaken, like she usually does when I yell at her. "Aww. Poo. I forgot about that." She bit her lip, but was still smiling some stupid smile, and said, "Shucks. Maybe if I wasn't so stupid and I hadn't been so sad about my Glee poster, I would have remembered that."
She walked out of the kitchen in victory, but you can't victoriously walk if you're dead. Which she very soon will be.
If that itty bitty bitch wants to make something of this, itty bitty bitch is gonna get something.
Because right now all I'm getting is the beginning of a huge stomach ache.
