A/N: I'm back. Please R/R!
The one place in my room that wasn't covering posters of superheroes and Orlando Bloom was the wall that held my unfinished mural. I'm artistically inclined, very much so. I paint and draw, and I'm good at it. Not bragging, that's just the truth. The edges are framed in ivy that creeps up the walls. It's like a frame.
I painted myself inside the ivy on the left. I'd wanted it to be just me, but it looked boring that way. My eyes, skin, and hair are brown and my shirt in the painting was a black ribbed turtleneck. The frames of my glasses are also black. The three colors that were in the painting went well together but it had lacked something. Later I added mom. Her lighter brown skin and green eyes added to the mural but the place behind us was blank. The portrait was too dark. I decided then what ever was in the back would have to be light. Since the two years that I'd finished mom and I I've sketched and erased hundreds of things to go there; flowers, trees, symbols, weird swirls, and clouds. Nothing had worked. The back of the mural is still empty.
When I wake up in the morning I see my unfinished painting. Sometimes I picture things that could go there, sometimes I actually sketch, but nothing ever works. The morning after the 'kitchen incident' I woke up, looked at my mural and groaned. I couldn't even think of ideas this morning, much less sketch anything. Even so I stubbornly groped for a pencil from my nightstand and held it. Nothing.
I didn't want to push my luck, so I oozed out of bed and onto the floor. It took some energy to stand up and move out of the door. Once in the hall the ceiling light hit me like an immediate wake up call. I dressed and showered quickly. I'd packed my backpack last night when I went to sleep at two, so I was able to grab that and go down the stairs.
I took a steadying breath before entering the kitchen. Through the door I could hear the news. Nothing new, just the same things they'd been saying about Iraq for the past year. Anyway, the news being on meant mom was up. She's the one who likes to be up on current events. If I get the TV in the mornings I turn to TNT; Charmed is on. The smell of bacon was also seeping through the door. I could hear it frying. I opened the door a crack and saw that the juicer was out on the near counter. Mom had been squeezing oranges. She was trying to get back in my good graces with my favorite foods. There were probably scrambled eggs on the stove too, with all the spices I liked. If this went on, I'd get ten dollars for lunch money and chicken with all the trimmings for dinner.
Whenever I get angry with my mother I gain five pounds. I'm beginning to think it's some sort of secret strategy she has to make like her all the time.
"Morning Gin, you hungry?" She finally saw my head peaking through the door. I placed my backpack in the doorway and entered the kitchen. I guess my eyes were much too focused on the food because she immediately started piling me a plate. She gave me orange juice and even let me turn the television channel to my show.
"Mpanks," I said through a mouthful of eggs. Coughing a bit, I spoke again. "Where's your friend?"
"I told him to sleep in," mom answered quickly. Looking over her shoulder to the gray sky filled with clouds, she smiled. "He'll be up by the time you get back from school."
I nodded with out complaint. It was the morning, and I was being fed good food, so I was willing to cut mom a little slack. Maybe even ask civil questions. "When'd you meet him?"
"A long time ago. Before you were even a thought in my mind. I met him when I was very young, eight or nine." She smiled and reached over to smooth my hair gently. "William is a very good friend of mine, and I've been looking forward to seeing him again."
"Yes, I could tell that much last night," I said, but it wasn't harsh and mom laughed along with me.
"You seem to be over the initial shock, I'm glad. You know I'm sorry right? That wasn't meant to happen, I mean it." I nodded yes. "Good, eat up. I'll drive you to school today."
I shook my head at the suggestion. "No, I can blade. I'll be fine. I'll meet Al and go with her."
"Are you sure?" she looked uncharacteristically worried at the thought of me roller-blading to school. I'd done it everyday since I'd started at the high school. Mom had never given it a second thought. "It looks like it might rain."
"I'll bring my umbrella." I countered, giving her an odd look.
"Okay." She gave the sky another glance. Her eyes narrowed. "Bring your cell. Keep it on all day. Looks like the sun isn't going to come out at all today."
Mom gets weird when it rains during the days. Especially if it's a thunderstorm, a nor'easter, or a hurricane that travels up to us like Floyd did. I don't know what it is, but she gets really protective, like I'll be swept away in a flood or something. I'm always getting my cell phone taken away in class on rainy days. My mom calls to check up on me; it's like she's making sure I'm alive. It's embarrassing, and completely sucks during April and May when we get the most rain.
As I laced up my skates she had me promising to all sorts of safety stuff. I had to go straight to school and come straight home, I couldn't go off campus for lunch, and she didn't want me talking to strangers, that sort of thing. Then I had to show her that I had my key and my phone.
Finally she let me out of the house. I still had ten minutes to go to the corner Walgreens and pick up some candy. So I technically wasn't going straight to school, but I was in and out of Walgreens in five minutes. I had my candy therefore I was happy. It took my five minutes to blade down the street to the corner where my friend Allie lives. She was leaning against the stop sign idly swinging her field hockey stick.
"Hey," I said, skidding to a stop next to her.
"Hi," The hockey stick stopped mid-swing as she turned her attention to me and asked the usual greeting. "Finish the mural?"
"I couldn't even think of anything this morning," I said with exasperation. I opened a bag of jellybeans and started in on them offering some to Allie. "My muse has obviously deserted me."
She shrugged, putting a jellybean into her mouth. "Just add a random person. A light random person. Me."
Allie was certainly light in contrast to the colors in the picture already, but she wasn't what I was looking for. Her skin was peach, but turned red when ever we started laughing about something or when she was embarrassed. She had brown curly hair that was currently braided into one neat braid. Like many people she was shorter than me, but not by much. We both have brown eyes, though hers are darker than mine. Most of the time she wears jeans and random shirts, unless she's wearing her field hockey uniform.
"So, if our game isn't rained out will you come?" She went on. "You could ride over to the park with me after school."
"I wish, but you know my mom. If the sun isn't out, I'm not out." I groaned. Allie gave me a sympathetic look. I know she understands, until freshman year of high school she had even less freedom than I did. She couldn't go out whether the sun was up or down. Now she's got a ten o' clock curfew, and I still have to be in at 5:23 or when ever the sun decides to set that day.
Raindrops started falling then, and the skies started to turn an even deeper gray. I reached over my shoulder to pull my small umbrella out of my backpack. "Guess what happened last night."
"Other than you completing three five page reports in five hours? What could possibly be better than that?" Allie asked with a grin. I relayed the entire story to Allie. She stayed quiet until the end when she started to laugh, and wouldn't stop until we were about to walk down the slope to the school. By that time she was wiping tears and raindrops from her face.
I frowned at her just a little as I sat down under the front awning to unlace my skates. "It was quite traumatizing thank you. And now mom's trying to make it up; I think I gained ten pounds this morning on bacon and eggs alone, that's not even adding the pancakes."
"What was William like?"
"Dunno, he didn't really talk much, but I guess I'll meet him for real after school. Mom says he'll be there." I slipped my boots on and tied them up quickly. Then I stood up, tied the laces of my skates together and hung them over my backpack.
In the mornings before school a few kids who smoke meet across the street to buy cigarettes from the school dealer. It's always the same people; been that way since I used to pass by there on the way to middle school. They tend to not graduate. They were there today, and they were only ones standing out side in the rain besides Allie and me. Everyone else was inside in the auditorium waiting for the first bell. I glanced over at the group. The kid with the blue hair was there, the kid with the nose ring, and there was the kid who looked like he belonged in a prep school somewhere. There were three other regulars there too. But then I noticed someone new.
"Checking out the hot new drug addict?" Allie asked, giving me a nudge. "I'm liking his hair, it reminds me of Orlando Bloom."
"Everything reminds you of him," I reminded her dryly. "And, he's not hot, hot, just good looking."
Allie shook her head, disagreeing. "Nah, if you were wearing your glasses today you'd notice."
"They are kinda blurry," I admitted, squinting. "Just a little though."
"Shoot, he's looking at us. I think we're staring." Allie started pulling me towards the door. "Why don't you wear your glasses Gin? I swear, you're going to get yourself killed."
I half blocked out the lecture, but let her drag me into the school. All the while I kept squinting and trying to be able to see across the street.
*~*
To avoid getting into any sort of trouble I went straight home after school. It was pouring and I was soaked by the time I unlocked the door and let myself in. I dumped my things in my usual chair and took off my skates. I could hear the TV going in the basement, and since mom was at work I could only assume it was Will. I scowled, looking at the clock on the microwave. It was 2:50. He had ten minutes before I went down there and made him move. I'm sickeningly addicted to the show Passions, and here it comes on at three, right as I get home from school. I bit my lip and thought. Maybe I wouldn't kick him out, but he was going to have to go. School hadn't been all that great and I needed to unwind.
I didn't notice it, but according to Allie and the rest of my friends I'd been out of it today. Apparently I'd been too quiet. I didn't think I'd been necessarily quiet, maybe I just hadn't talked as much. My friend Matt insulted me and then was worried when I didn't try to cuff him like I normally do, and Melissa wanted to know why I hadn't made fun of her and Stephen that day. I just told them I was tired. I don't think they bought it, I know I didn't. I had a few theories; a, I was still reeling over the night before, or b, I was focusing on the new druggie kid a little too much. Option b was plausible.
Cracking open a soda, I started to think about the new boy who had suddenly appeared. It seemed like he was stalking me, well me or Allie. Today he'd shown up in all of our classes as a new student. His name is Ryan. As soon as I could see him up close I saw what Allie meant when she'd said he was hot (but I did not see the resemblance to Orlando Bloom). He had wavy dark black hair, a tall muscular form, and eyes where I'm still sure there was no pupil. My friend Molly had to kick me several times to tell me to stop staring, then she went to work on Allie. I tried to be discreet with my staring; yet I still think Ryan saw me. I don't know how I feel about that.
Eight minutes had passed, so I got up from the table and tentatively made my way down the stairs. William was sitting on the couch right under the stairs, and when I was halfway down the steps he turned to look at me. I stopped nervously on the eighth step, and a long silence stretched between us.
"Your mum said you like Passions." Will finally said.
"Um, yeah.Passions I like, I mean, I like Passions." Well that sounded intelligent. I silently scolded myself for sounding horribly stupid.
"So do I, but your mum put a block on NBC. She wanted us to.talk." He said, glaring at the TV.
I almost grinned, but checked myself. When mom dates she makes each of her boyfriends spend time with me, or take me somewhere so that we can get to know each other. She wants me to like anyone who she would ever consider making a commitment to. It's sort of like a test or an interview. Obviously mom liked Will, but she was backtracking and going through the motions anyway.
I sat down on the stairs, leaning against the wall and looked at the man. "Who are you?" Was the first question I asked. It seemed like a basic good- natured question.
"Your mum has called me William since we were children, but my name's Spike. Who are you?" He answered, and then countered with a grin.
"I'm Ginger Medea Grayson, you can call me Gin." I said, smiling back and taking a small sip of soda. A guy called Spike who liked Passions. It wasn't looking all bad so far. "I'm sixteen, and in eleventh grade. I paint, draw, roller-blade, ice-skate, and I do all of my homework in health class first period. You?"
"What?" Spike asked.
"Age?" I said simply.
Spike raised an eyebrow. "None of your damned business."
The guy two boyfriends before Spike said that to me once when I asked him something. Now while it really wasn't any of my business, I hadn't appreciated the cursing and I hadn't expected it. He'd been the Harvard graduate doctor 'rides in a Porsche' type. I told mom I didn't approve of him and he'd been gone two days later. Coming from Spike it didn't bother me. It even made me giggle. "Hobbies?"
"You don't want to know."
I laughed again. "You're the Hannibal Lector type. Okay. So where did you meet my mother?"
Emotion was evident on his face before he answered. It went through quickly; I couldn't tell whether it was good or bad. I was glad when Spike answered normally and he didn't look angry. "Your grand-mum worked as a maid for my family. We were around the same age so my mum had Cally and I play together when we were little bits. We've stayed in touch throughout the years."
"In England?"
"London," Spike confirmed.
"Mom never told me she lived in London," I said with slight confusion. "That's weird."
Spike nodded wearily. He looked like he'd told me something I wasn't supposed to know. So what if mom lived in London; did it matter all that much? Of course there was the fact that she told me she'd spent her childhood in Virginia, but there was always the possibility. Maybe she'd spent a year or two in Europe, and just hadn't mentioned it. She hadn't mentioned Spike after all. I stepped from the stairs directly to the couch and sat across from Spike on its arm (something I'm not supposed to do).
"So." I went on with the 'interview'. "Quirks, bad habits?"
He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pack of Camels and a matchbook. In one swift move Spike lit the cigarette and shook out the match. Sighing he took a deep drag and blew a long stream of smoke from his nose. I wrinkled my nose and gave a sarcastic, exaggerated cough that in turn led to real coughs caused by the smoke. Spike leaned over and whacked me on the back
"I like a good fag." He said inhaling again. I'd never seen anyone take drags as deep as his. He should've been suffocating but he was completely fine.
"You're going to kill yourself." I said flatly. "And me. Does mom know you smoke?"
"O' course, she was there when I started. Bloody embarrassing that was, I was coughing all over the place 'cause I didn't know what the hell I was doing." Spike admitted.
"And lastly," I said. "Any old flames that will, a, come after you trying to claim your love, or b, you will go running back to."
"No to the last one, maybe for the first one." This was said in a tone that brooked no argument, and frankly frightened me out of asking anymore about it anyway.
I spent a little more time with him, before excusing my self for homework purposes. From our brief conversation I'd determined that he was a basically decent guy, but with just a few secrets under the surface.
The one place in my room that wasn't covering posters of superheroes and Orlando Bloom was the wall that held my unfinished mural. I'm artistically inclined, very much so. I paint and draw, and I'm good at it. Not bragging, that's just the truth. The edges are framed in ivy that creeps up the walls. It's like a frame.
I painted myself inside the ivy on the left. I'd wanted it to be just me, but it looked boring that way. My eyes, skin, and hair are brown and my shirt in the painting was a black ribbed turtleneck. The frames of my glasses are also black. The three colors that were in the painting went well together but it had lacked something. Later I added mom. Her lighter brown skin and green eyes added to the mural but the place behind us was blank. The portrait was too dark. I decided then what ever was in the back would have to be light. Since the two years that I'd finished mom and I I've sketched and erased hundreds of things to go there; flowers, trees, symbols, weird swirls, and clouds. Nothing had worked. The back of the mural is still empty.
When I wake up in the morning I see my unfinished painting. Sometimes I picture things that could go there, sometimes I actually sketch, but nothing ever works. The morning after the 'kitchen incident' I woke up, looked at my mural and groaned. I couldn't even think of ideas this morning, much less sketch anything. Even so I stubbornly groped for a pencil from my nightstand and held it. Nothing.
I didn't want to push my luck, so I oozed out of bed and onto the floor. It took some energy to stand up and move out of the door. Once in the hall the ceiling light hit me like an immediate wake up call. I dressed and showered quickly. I'd packed my backpack last night when I went to sleep at two, so I was able to grab that and go down the stairs.
I took a steadying breath before entering the kitchen. Through the door I could hear the news. Nothing new, just the same things they'd been saying about Iraq for the past year. Anyway, the news being on meant mom was up. She's the one who likes to be up on current events. If I get the TV in the mornings I turn to TNT; Charmed is on. The smell of bacon was also seeping through the door. I could hear it frying. I opened the door a crack and saw that the juicer was out on the near counter. Mom had been squeezing oranges. She was trying to get back in my good graces with my favorite foods. There were probably scrambled eggs on the stove too, with all the spices I liked. If this went on, I'd get ten dollars for lunch money and chicken with all the trimmings for dinner.
Whenever I get angry with my mother I gain five pounds. I'm beginning to think it's some sort of secret strategy she has to make like her all the time.
"Morning Gin, you hungry?" She finally saw my head peaking through the door. I placed my backpack in the doorway and entered the kitchen. I guess my eyes were much too focused on the food because she immediately started piling me a plate. She gave me orange juice and even let me turn the television channel to my show.
"Mpanks," I said through a mouthful of eggs. Coughing a bit, I spoke again. "Where's your friend?"
"I told him to sleep in," mom answered quickly. Looking over her shoulder to the gray sky filled with clouds, she smiled. "He'll be up by the time you get back from school."
I nodded with out complaint. It was the morning, and I was being fed good food, so I was willing to cut mom a little slack. Maybe even ask civil questions. "When'd you meet him?"
"A long time ago. Before you were even a thought in my mind. I met him when I was very young, eight or nine." She smiled and reached over to smooth my hair gently. "William is a very good friend of mine, and I've been looking forward to seeing him again."
"Yes, I could tell that much last night," I said, but it wasn't harsh and mom laughed along with me.
"You seem to be over the initial shock, I'm glad. You know I'm sorry right? That wasn't meant to happen, I mean it." I nodded yes. "Good, eat up. I'll drive you to school today."
I shook my head at the suggestion. "No, I can blade. I'll be fine. I'll meet Al and go with her."
"Are you sure?" she looked uncharacteristically worried at the thought of me roller-blading to school. I'd done it everyday since I'd started at the high school. Mom had never given it a second thought. "It looks like it might rain."
"I'll bring my umbrella." I countered, giving her an odd look.
"Okay." She gave the sky another glance. Her eyes narrowed. "Bring your cell. Keep it on all day. Looks like the sun isn't going to come out at all today."
Mom gets weird when it rains during the days. Especially if it's a thunderstorm, a nor'easter, or a hurricane that travels up to us like Floyd did. I don't know what it is, but she gets really protective, like I'll be swept away in a flood or something. I'm always getting my cell phone taken away in class on rainy days. My mom calls to check up on me; it's like she's making sure I'm alive. It's embarrassing, and completely sucks during April and May when we get the most rain.
As I laced up my skates she had me promising to all sorts of safety stuff. I had to go straight to school and come straight home, I couldn't go off campus for lunch, and she didn't want me talking to strangers, that sort of thing. Then I had to show her that I had my key and my phone.
Finally she let me out of the house. I still had ten minutes to go to the corner Walgreens and pick up some candy. So I technically wasn't going straight to school, but I was in and out of Walgreens in five minutes. I had my candy therefore I was happy. It took my five minutes to blade down the street to the corner where my friend Allie lives. She was leaning against the stop sign idly swinging her field hockey stick.
"Hey," I said, skidding to a stop next to her.
"Hi," The hockey stick stopped mid-swing as she turned her attention to me and asked the usual greeting. "Finish the mural?"
"I couldn't even think of anything this morning," I said with exasperation. I opened a bag of jellybeans and started in on them offering some to Allie. "My muse has obviously deserted me."
She shrugged, putting a jellybean into her mouth. "Just add a random person. A light random person. Me."
Allie was certainly light in contrast to the colors in the picture already, but she wasn't what I was looking for. Her skin was peach, but turned red when ever we started laughing about something or when she was embarrassed. She had brown curly hair that was currently braided into one neat braid. Like many people she was shorter than me, but not by much. We both have brown eyes, though hers are darker than mine. Most of the time she wears jeans and random shirts, unless she's wearing her field hockey uniform.
"So, if our game isn't rained out will you come?" She went on. "You could ride over to the park with me after school."
"I wish, but you know my mom. If the sun isn't out, I'm not out." I groaned. Allie gave me a sympathetic look. I know she understands, until freshman year of high school she had even less freedom than I did. She couldn't go out whether the sun was up or down. Now she's got a ten o' clock curfew, and I still have to be in at 5:23 or when ever the sun decides to set that day.
Raindrops started falling then, and the skies started to turn an even deeper gray. I reached over my shoulder to pull my small umbrella out of my backpack. "Guess what happened last night."
"Other than you completing three five page reports in five hours? What could possibly be better than that?" Allie asked with a grin. I relayed the entire story to Allie. She stayed quiet until the end when she started to laugh, and wouldn't stop until we were about to walk down the slope to the school. By that time she was wiping tears and raindrops from her face.
I frowned at her just a little as I sat down under the front awning to unlace my skates. "It was quite traumatizing thank you. And now mom's trying to make it up; I think I gained ten pounds this morning on bacon and eggs alone, that's not even adding the pancakes."
"What was William like?"
"Dunno, he didn't really talk much, but I guess I'll meet him for real after school. Mom says he'll be there." I slipped my boots on and tied them up quickly. Then I stood up, tied the laces of my skates together and hung them over my backpack.
In the mornings before school a few kids who smoke meet across the street to buy cigarettes from the school dealer. It's always the same people; been that way since I used to pass by there on the way to middle school. They tend to not graduate. They were there today, and they were only ones standing out side in the rain besides Allie and me. Everyone else was inside in the auditorium waiting for the first bell. I glanced over at the group. The kid with the blue hair was there, the kid with the nose ring, and there was the kid who looked like he belonged in a prep school somewhere. There were three other regulars there too. But then I noticed someone new.
"Checking out the hot new drug addict?" Allie asked, giving me a nudge. "I'm liking his hair, it reminds me of Orlando Bloom."
"Everything reminds you of him," I reminded her dryly. "And, he's not hot, hot, just good looking."
Allie shook her head, disagreeing. "Nah, if you were wearing your glasses today you'd notice."
"They are kinda blurry," I admitted, squinting. "Just a little though."
"Shoot, he's looking at us. I think we're staring." Allie started pulling me towards the door. "Why don't you wear your glasses Gin? I swear, you're going to get yourself killed."
I half blocked out the lecture, but let her drag me into the school. All the while I kept squinting and trying to be able to see across the street.
*~*
To avoid getting into any sort of trouble I went straight home after school. It was pouring and I was soaked by the time I unlocked the door and let myself in. I dumped my things in my usual chair and took off my skates. I could hear the TV going in the basement, and since mom was at work I could only assume it was Will. I scowled, looking at the clock on the microwave. It was 2:50. He had ten minutes before I went down there and made him move. I'm sickeningly addicted to the show Passions, and here it comes on at three, right as I get home from school. I bit my lip and thought. Maybe I wouldn't kick him out, but he was going to have to go. School hadn't been all that great and I needed to unwind.
I didn't notice it, but according to Allie and the rest of my friends I'd been out of it today. Apparently I'd been too quiet. I didn't think I'd been necessarily quiet, maybe I just hadn't talked as much. My friend Matt insulted me and then was worried when I didn't try to cuff him like I normally do, and Melissa wanted to know why I hadn't made fun of her and Stephen that day. I just told them I was tired. I don't think they bought it, I know I didn't. I had a few theories; a, I was still reeling over the night before, or b, I was focusing on the new druggie kid a little too much. Option b was plausible.
Cracking open a soda, I started to think about the new boy who had suddenly appeared. It seemed like he was stalking me, well me or Allie. Today he'd shown up in all of our classes as a new student. His name is Ryan. As soon as I could see him up close I saw what Allie meant when she'd said he was hot (but I did not see the resemblance to Orlando Bloom). He had wavy dark black hair, a tall muscular form, and eyes where I'm still sure there was no pupil. My friend Molly had to kick me several times to tell me to stop staring, then she went to work on Allie. I tried to be discreet with my staring; yet I still think Ryan saw me. I don't know how I feel about that.
Eight minutes had passed, so I got up from the table and tentatively made my way down the stairs. William was sitting on the couch right under the stairs, and when I was halfway down the steps he turned to look at me. I stopped nervously on the eighth step, and a long silence stretched between us.
"Your mum said you like Passions." Will finally said.
"Um, yeah.Passions I like, I mean, I like Passions." Well that sounded intelligent. I silently scolded myself for sounding horribly stupid.
"So do I, but your mum put a block on NBC. She wanted us to.talk." He said, glaring at the TV.
I almost grinned, but checked myself. When mom dates she makes each of her boyfriends spend time with me, or take me somewhere so that we can get to know each other. She wants me to like anyone who she would ever consider making a commitment to. It's sort of like a test or an interview. Obviously mom liked Will, but she was backtracking and going through the motions anyway.
I sat down on the stairs, leaning against the wall and looked at the man. "Who are you?" Was the first question I asked. It seemed like a basic good- natured question.
"Your mum has called me William since we were children, but my name's Spike. Who are you?" He answered, and then countered with a grin.
"I'm Ginger Medea Grayson, you can call me Gin." I said, smiling back and taking a small sip of soda. A guy called Spike who liked Passions. It wasn't looking all bad so far. "I'm sixteen, and in eleventh grade. I paint, draw, roller-blade, ice-skate, and I do all of my homework in health class first period. You?"
"What?" Spike asked.
"Age?" I said simply.
Spike raised an eyebrow. "None of your damned business."
The guy two boyfriends before Spike said that to me once when I asked him something. Now while it really wasn't any of my business, I hadn't appreciated the cursing and I hadn't expected it. He'd been the Harvard graduate doctor 'rides in a Porsche' type. I told mom I didn't approve of him and he'd been gone two days later. Coming from Spike it didn't bother me. It even made me giggle. "Hobbies?"
"You don't want to know."
I laughed again. "You're the Hannibal Lector type. Okay. So where did you meet my mother?"
Emotion was evident on his face before he answered. It went through quickly; I couldn't tell whether it was good or bad. I was glad when Spike answered normally and he didn't look angry. "Your grand-mum worked as a maid for my family. We were around the same age so my mum had Cally and I play together when we were little bits. We've stayed in touch throughout the years."
"In England?"
"London," Spike confirmed.
"Mom never told me she lived in London," I said with slight confusion. "That's weird."
Spike nodded wearily. He looked like he'd told me something I wasn't supposed to know. So what if mom lived in London; did it matter all that much? Of course there was the fact that she told me she'd spent her childhood in Virginia, but there was always the possibility. Maybe she'd spent a year or two in Europe, and just hadn't mentioned it. She hadn't mentioned Spike after all. I stepped from the stairs directly to the couch and sat across from Spike on its arm (something I'm not supposed to do).
"So." I went on with the 'interview'. "Quirks, bad habits?"
He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pack of Camels and a matchbook. In one swift move Spike lit the cigarette and shook out the match. Sighing he took a deep drag and blew a long stream of smoke from his nose. I wrinkled my nose and gave a sarcastic, exaggerated cough that in turn led to real coughs caused by the smoke. Spike leaned over and whacked me on the back
"I like a good fag." He said inhaling again. I'd never seen anyone take drags as deep as his. He should've been suffocating but he was completely fine.
"You're going to kill yourself." I said flatly. "And me. Does mom know you smoke?"
"O' course, she was there when I started. Bloody embarrassing that was, I was coughing all over the place 'cause I didn't know what the hell I was doing." Spike admitted.
"And lastly," I said. "Any old flames that will, a, come after you trying to claim your love, or b, you will go running back to."
"No to the last one, maybe for the first one." This was said in a tone that brooked no argument, and frankly frightened me out of asking anymore about it anyway.
I spent a little more time with him, before excusing my self for homework purposes. From our brief conversation I'd determined that he was a basically decent guy, but with just a few secrets under the surface.