WARNING: This sequel may be a couple of chapters longer than TW, but then
again, look at the Harry Potter books? It gets longer with each book. So
you can't sue me. And speaking of Twisted World, all's well now. Full
credits for the return of the chapter go to my darling best friend, Lindzi.
I am now her servant for life. Well, not really . . . but it sounded good.
But serious, Linnie. Thank you so much. I was totally freaked that I'd lost it completely.
Everybody? Say "thank you Linnie."
All together now: "Thank you Linnie."
That's nice.
Now that's enough of Lindzi *Lindzi attacks Lolly with a (ironically enough) Harry Potter OrdPhoe book* OW! I mean, uh, Lindzi has been thanked, let's move onto more important stuff – OW!
*Lolly's screams of pain fade into the distance as the mellifluous voice in your head begins to read you another installment of Addicted . . .*
**************************************************************************** ********************
How bad is my luck? No, I'm so serious. What is up with all this heinous misfortune that is plaguing me like . . . well, the plague? Is it right? I mean, there is no justice in anything that's happening to me. Because, let's be fair, people . . .
My hair STINKS!
It is SO gross! It has this dead smell to it! It's awful and putrid and – currently, bushy! Paul has messed up my hair. He is officially going down.
. . . You know, I hate it when people say "going down" in that context. It's wrong. I mean, if I said that to Paul, he'd get excited. No, I'm serious. It's criminal! He is the sickest, grossest, most evil, cruellest, hottest ghost that I have ever met!!
Uh . . .
Ha ha.
Ha . . .
Hmmm, that "hottest" bit? Yeah, that kind of, um, just slipped out. Completely ignore that. That was an accident. Paul is so not –
WELL CAN YOU BLAME ME?!
No, serious! Despite the whole evil mannerism, when he's not butchering alien cats, sending guiltless ghosts to the Gate Keeper, and – and, uh, trapping, um, innocent little girls in dead, smelly coffins with dead, smelly corpses, Paul has a tendency to appear slightly appealing to the eyes of . . .
Oh, forget the cover up.
Paul Slater is hot.
I know! I should be SHOT! Daydreaming about the enemy is enough to earn me capital punishment, right? Someone, please tell me I'm on excessive amounts of crack? I mean, I know that I have Jesse! I KNOW that! Jesse De Silva is THE pinnacle of sizzle. But Paul . . . well, oh I dunno. It's just that, well, Jesse's so perfect, that it kind of makes you reflect on your flaws too much. Everything about him is so magical. Every aspect is of him is just faultless. He's your stereotypical Prince Charming.
And if you know what I mean, Prince Charming can get a little . . .
Well, uh, too perfect.
Oh my God.
Did I just . . . did I just say that?
Oh, no, I didn't mean that. I love Jesse! I really do! It's just, well, I just feel so inferior to him. He's like, a god or something, and me, I'm just Suze Simon. His apparent knowledge in the art of shifting, it's like, I could never know anything as great as that. I could never measure up to him. He's this beautiful person, with those deep, black eyes and the ultimate tan, and the thick black hair that curls into the back of his head so naturally, and the deep Spanish lilted voice that makes my skin go all tingly . . .
All of that. He has all of that going for him. What room is there for me after all THAT? I'm like, a kid to him. Taking away the fact that he's a guy and I'm a chick, can you see, in scale, that he's 10/10, and I'm like, oh, I dunno . . .
At most, a two.
I'm no being pessimistic. I'm being way realistic. The way that Jesse makes me feel when I'm around him, well, it only barely compensates what I feel when he's not around. The introversion, thinking about how low I am, well, it hurts. It hurts a lot. I don't even know why he even likes me. I'm just Suze.
Just Suze . . .
So what was Paul's excuse, then?
Well, with Paul, it was different. I was above Paul, both literally and in distinction. He was a ghost, and I was alive. I knew in my heart that I was a good person, whereas he, obviously, was not.
But that sense of deficiency, you know, imperfection, it was kind of . . . well, what I wanted. It was like, I didn't have to try to be perfect. I could just let go, and be whoever I wanted to be. Jesse, he thought that it was "cute" when I said something blonde. That was not a good thing. The fact that Jesse brings out the blondness in me, I mean. Paul, the only side I had shown him was my fearful side. He knew that he had control over me in some regard. He was purely evil. I couldn't think of anything good he'd ever done for me, and anything that had been slightly moral had been justified with an act of impiety. Example, when he did my homework for me. Remember that little fiasco? With Mr Osbourne? That landed me in DETENTION?
All because of that really, really gross picture . . .
Um, EW.
But you see what I mean?
. . . Yet, past all that, he knew as well as I did that I had some kind of control over him. He was obsessed with me. I don't know why. I really don't. Frankly, it's disgusting. I'm not worth obsessing over, to be realistic. But Paul's as twisted as the next Bellevue resident. So yeah, he's screwy, he has that reason to a certain extent. But Paul, he's not insane. He knows what he's doing. He plans, even though he's impulsive. He watches, and waits, and is careful about what he does.
He's clever, basically.
Just in one of the most cold-blooded ways that I have ever known.
But he did have something there that was reserved just for me. A fixation. Like, I was a conquest or something. I am a strong person, not just physically, but with my willpower. I'm very stubborn, I know that. I can hold back on things that I really, really want. Is that why he liked me? To know that somehow, he would be able to break me? Like, make me fall for him? Well, as if. Paul is . . .
I don't know anymore.
There's something there. I can't explain it. It's inside of me. It makes me want him, so bad. I don't want to, but I do. I cant help it. I feel something for him that I wish, with all my heart, not to be there. It's an emotion that cannot be named. Or tamed, for that matter.
And it's always there.
Even when I'm with Jesse . . .
~*~
After I'd had a shower in the girls' change rooms, I – grudgingly but desperately – stole a spare "Juniperro Serra Mission" jersey from the clean laundry pile, the smallest that I could find that wasn't a kindergarten size, and a little pair of shorts that some chic. They weren't even cute, but I was desperate. Hey, fashion challenged is way better than being evil on the nose. I mean . . . ew . . .
I hate Paul.
And yet . . . Okay, someone can have my full and willing permission to exterminate me. I am a bug and I need to be squashed. I'm sinning against mankind. Why couldn't these stupid feelings stop? I wasn't in love with him, or anything. God no! I loved Jesse with all my heart! Despite any negative affects he had on me. I didn't love Paul! Or like him! Just . . . I felt this absurd attraction. It meant nothing. I mean, it was just a little lust.
Right?
There wasn't anything wrong with that! Lust is a crappy, insignificant thing that didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. But . . . oh God . . . Lust was like, a sensual appetite, regarded as sinful, according to the dictionary. Yeah. Okay, so I'd been thinking about this. A lot. So much that I went to the dictionary.
Okay, and Doc.
That was embarrassing.
'You want to know about lust, Suze? Well, that's perfectly understandable. Lust, of course, can occur at all ages between all people, but is most common between people who are considered very attractive, like y – um, well, most people say that, er, Kelly Prescott, or something like that, is very beautiful. Not me though. But yes, someone like Kelly Prescott would feel great lust for a person of the opposite sex. She –'
'Can we stop talking about Kelly? She gives me the wig.'
'Er, okay.'
'Thanks.'
'Well, a woman would feel a strong sexual desire for this person. Hopefully a male. While it is not medically more dangerous for same sex couples to have intercourse, I do not approve. I think that it is –'
'Off track much?'
'Sorry.'
'Fine.'
'But yes. Lust. It is, as a matter of fact, one of the more insignificant of the seven deadly sins. It has happened all through history, and has been the downfall of many men and women. It isn't love, although, some people wish it to be –'
'Does it mean anything?'
'Yes, it means a lot. It has to do with the visual hunger for –'
'Uh, I mean, is it a bad thing?'
'Lust? Well, in the Catholic sense, of course. It's a terrible sin. It's horrible, and evil, especially amongst women.'
'Joy.'
'It can be degrading to a woman, and can corrupt her thoughts and purity and –'
'I think we have had enough chat.'
Wow, that kid can be depressing . . .
I was walking down the hall, back to my locker to proceed with my schooling – it was just after recess – when I bumped into Kelly.
'Oh, uh, hey Suze,' she chirped, pasting an unnatural – or surgically enhanced – smile on her perfectly painted face. Her eyeliner enhanced the grey-blueness of her eyes, and her cheeks were so shiny it was annoying.
'Hi,' I muttered, trying to step around her, but she stepped in my way again.
'Whoa, Suze,' she said, her eyebrows coming together in a "what the hell is the matter with you?" expression, 'You look bad.'
'Sick?'
'No, just in general bad.'
'Thanks.'
'But now that you mention it, yeah, sick. Did you sleep last night? Because that mascara looks like it's been on since the Ice Age.'
'Oh, you remembered a small, insignificant part of history. The teachers would be proud,' I said boredly.
'Suze,' she said, looking very sympathetic. 'I am not the person to do this. In fact, I've never done it before. But I have a soft spot in my heart for pathetic people. I do. So, if you want, you can borrow some of my clothes, okay? Nothing Prada, because, well, knowing you, you might wreck it. And nothing black. It'll get dirty too easily. And nothing . . . '
She went on and on for a long time about all of these conditions that I didn't give a shit about. But then, hey . . . She was right. I did look like a dag. Since when should I let my job as a mediator . . . or, shifter . . . get in the way of my public face? What gave Paul the right to rob me of my fashion status?
'Kelly, just give me whatever,' I said, 'And how much clothes do you keep at school?'
'Well,' she winced, 'Ever since that food fight that your little friends, I believe, started, and I got a pie on my . . . well, that was ages ago,' she said, getting redder and redder. Yeah, I remembered. Kelly's ass got pied. That as so funny.
Ironically, that was the day that I set eyes on Jesse.
~*~
Five minutes later, I was checking myself out in the ladies' dunny mirror. Kelly's clothes weren't scabby. They really weren't. Not that I expected them to be, but yeah. It was not a good thing that I was borrowing them in the first place, but I needed to get out of that jersey, people. It was maroon!
And YELLOW.
I had on these cute little white slacks – I unfortunately didn't know of the label – and a plaid baby blue and white shirt that buttoned up. It was a really adorable. I looked totally innocent. Like a little blue flower! With . . . a white stem . . . and no leaves . . . and some weird brown stuff spouting from the top . . .
Okay, so I'm no floral design. Don't tease me!
Rolling my eyes, I followed Kelly to the Student Council meeting that she said we now had. Interesting, I was just dreading about going to English, and this pops up. God is rewarding my hard labour, at last. Even if it's something as tiny and insignificant as that . . . it's a start.
~*~
The Student Council was a wash. All they talked about was the issue of reintroducing uniform again. Uh, WRONG. It was probably a good thing that I'd changed out of what I'd been wearing before, you know, with the Mission jersey and the sports shorts? Otherwise, God forbid, it might have looked like I . . . I supported it?
Oh, good God have mercy!
I mean, you should have seen what they were presenting to the Council as an alternative to free dress all year round. There were these maroon SKIRTS, which were, may I mention, BELOW THE KNEES for the girls, and BELOW THE KNEE SHORTS for the guys, and matching tops.
But that's not the worst.
They were . . . maroon.
Frankly? I WOULD RATHER BE RESUSCITATED BY FATHER DOMINIC AGAIN THAN WEAR THOSE THINGS.
And not forgetting the yellow ties.
Oh, yes.
Well, Sister Gladys, who was forwarding this idea of uniform, saying that we were far too emancipated and wild and needed uniform to discipline us, was overthrown.
So much so that when I suggested that the clothes should be burnt, it was seconded.
And thirded.
And fourthed
And fifthed.
And I am aware that they are not even words.
But it was that bad.
Even the teachers agreed.
It was unanimous.
Sister Gladys was pretty pissed.
Now THAT'S religion.
Amen.
Kelly, of course, wasn't too interested in the meeting. I mean, you think that she would have, seeing that her fashion liberty was at stake. But no. She was too busy making eyes at Aleks Nicholas, a twelfth grader whose good looks almost made up for the fact that he was kind of ninety-five cents short of a dollar.
Almost, I say.
It was way annoying. They kept mouthing messages to each other from across the grade tables.
Joy.
It was about when Aleks began wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and poking his tongue out in this non-joking way, if you know what I mean, well, I kind of turned away.
Very abruptly.
Why exactly do I do this again?
I sighed. It was now after school. CeeCee and Adam and I had planned to mean at Adam's for a movie bash. You know, Buffy, Charmed, Simpsons, watching Titanic and picking it to pieces and point out that bit where someone was supposedly wearing a digital watch even thought it was supposed to be a movie where everyone was supposedly from 1912. Yeah, and all that jazz . . .
Supposedly.
Hehehe . . .
But yeah. Adam drove us to his house. I'd never been there before. CeeCee said that she had before, but it hadn't been very exciting, she'' reported. I had a feeling that the only excitement that CeeCee wanted to have at Adam's house had nothing to do with movie marathons.
If you catch my drift, hmm?
I'm evil. Muah!
Yeah, but Adam was very smoothly spinning the steering wheel of his little V8 bug. He'd just gotten his permit, and was totally enthused about the whole thing. Driving, I mean. He was repeatedly asking "You want a lift?" even when CeeCee said that she was going to the loo, or something. It was kind of becoming force of habit now.
Man, that guy needs a girlfriend.
Mmm . . . anyway.
'So, ladies, shall we make a stop before we arrive at my mansion, which looks suspiciously like a trash can . . . but it's nice and roomy inside, I swear,' he assured us with goofy grin. He flexed his fingers over the steering wheel.
I smiled. 'I'm sure.'
'Better believe it,' he scowled, turning a corner so sharply I had to grab hold of the side door. I was in the passenger seat. He'd insisted I sit there. Don't know why. 'We could of course all just bum around in, oh I dunno, my hot tub where, oh, I dunno, bikinis are required?'
'You in a bikini, McTavish?' CeeCee gagged, 'Oh God, the visuals are too much!'
Adam swelled in bogus outrage. 'Leave my drag career out of this!' he said in mock indignation, 'Why do you insult me, woman?!'
'For the sheer fun and joy of it,' CeeCee smiled dreamily. I knew, I was watching her very carefully in my mirror. She was staring at Adam in much the same manner. You know, dreamily. But she kind of quit it when she saw me grinning at her like a maniac.
'Shut up,' she mouthed at me, glaring good-naturedly with gleaming violet irises. I only saw a rectangle of her face, which barely squashed her eyes, nose and mouth in.
Adam turned to me.
'So what do you say, Simon?' he smiled toothily, and winked, 'You up for a little splash in my spa?'
I stared.
And stared.
'Adam,' I said, 'You have no idea how wrong that just sounded,' I wrinkled my nose.
His eyes sparkled puckishly. 'Wrong you are, my lady. I know EXACTLY how wrong that sounded.
CeeCee stylishly slid across the back seat and thumped Adam one on the head.
'Ow! Hey, I'm driving here!' he snapped.
'Oooh, poor baby,' I lulled in a mothering voice, 'Did she affect you brain?'
Adam smirked evilly, watching the road ahead carefully. 'Not the one that matters, Suze.'
It took a few seconds to realize how gross he was being. But I got it in the end.
'Ew!' I whined.
CeeCee whacked him again.
~*~
"I'll never let go, Jack," Kate Winslet promised dramatically, clinging to a frozen Leo DiCaprio.
And then she let go.
'What the hell was that?' Adam demanded through a thick mouthful of chips. 'She's like, "Won't let go!" and then she does.'
'Rose is a hypocrite,' CeeCee stated.
Was I the only one that got this?
'No,' I explained, 'She's saying that she won't let go of, like, her love for him. You know, she'll remember the time they spent together.'
'They had sex,' Adam grinned, 'Bit hard to forget something like that.'
'You think too much, Simon,' CeeCee groaned. 'Watch the movie and point and laugh when someone dies like you're supposed to.'
'Yeah, and pretend to puke when Rose's cape slips off to show her boobs like genius here did?' I asked, jabbing Adam with my thumb in nausea, 'I'll pass.'
'You're too mature,' Adam said down at me. He was lying on his queen bed over his pillows, with CeeCee draped over his knees, and me on the floor. I know, it was a little weird, but I managed. CeeCee sighed pleasantly. I could tell that she wasn't minding her location at all.
We watched in silence, right up to the bit where old Rose threw the "Heart of the Ocean" jewel over the railing.
'Oh my GOD!' Adam yelled, sitting up so fast that CeeCee was thrown backwards. 'She threw something like that AWAY! She is such a numb nut! She could have sold it to make heaps! I do not want her as my grandma if she's going to do all that sentimental head case stuff and throw away perfectly nice blue diamonds into oceans like that –'
'Adam, shut up,' I groaned, stuffing a handful of popcorn into my mouth. 'You think to much.'
'No, he talks too much,' CeeCee said. 'He doesn't think at all. It just . . . comes. From where, I don't know.'
'From his second brain,' I smiled at her.
She laughed, changed the video, and then repositioned herself over Adam's knees, who was looking confused that we were laughing at his expense.
'Pass a cupcake?' CeeCee asked me politely, motioning to the tray of desserts that Adam had picked up on the way home. I chuckled, and passed her a teeny one.
'You gave me the runt!' she cried crossly, 'It's too small!'
'Size doesn't matter,' I said accidentally.
They both looked at me, and started majorly cracking up.
Huh?
'What?' I asked, 'It's better if it's bite size, isn't it?'
CeeCee hooted shrilly and fell of the bed, shaking madly. Adam was leaning heavily against bedpost, emitting raucous roars of laughter.
'What?' I repeated unsophisticatedly. 'It's just a cupcake, guys.'
Hang on . . . size doesn't . . .
Oh.
'Oh, God,' I said in disgust with myself. 'I am so blond. In a non-blond way, I mean. It's the clothes. Kelly's blondness possesses me. Blame the clothes.'
They only laughed harder.
Joy.
The credits for Buffy rolled on. It was an episode called "Intervention," where Spike got some nerd to build a robot Buffy. For, um, something that wasn't chess. When the BuffyBot was talking to Willow, we all started laughing. (A/N: This is from memory, don't kill me?)
"Buffy, did you sleep with Spike?" Willow asked worriedly.
"No."
"Oh good."
"No, I had sex with Spike," BuffyBot beamed.
Willow looked sick.
"In lots of different ways . . . I can draw diagrams?" BuffyBot said.
We snorted. It was about then that CeeCee gave Adam a furtive look, before looking at me. 'Isn't Spike so hot?' she asked with a smile.
Adam grinned. 'Yeah,' he breathed, 'He's so sexy. Really. I'm not gay, I'm not.'
'Could have fooled me,' I muttered, and CeeCee sniggered. Now Adam was looking offended. 'I'm not gay, Suze,' he said. 'I'm really not.'
I blinked. 'I know that.'
'No,' he insisted, 'You think I am. I play for the hetero team, I swear.'
CeeCee sat up and faced him boredly. 'Mac, she knows that you're straight. Leave it.'
'You believe me, don't you Cee?' he said with wounded eyes. Now he was just mucking around.
'Yeah –'
'No,' I said, struck with a sudden idea. It was stupid, and CeeCee would kill me, but I didn't care. 'Adam, you're as gay as Carson from Queer Eye.'
His offense became genuine again. 'I am not, Suze!'
'Prove it,' I hissed.
'How?'
'Give CeeCee a kiss, and tell me how it feels.'
Both of them stared at me. CeeCee's eyes were wide and accusing. Adam looked appalled. I thought I'd blown it, but then he snapped.
'Fine!' he shouted, 'I will.'
And with that, he grabbed CeeCee's shoulders, and pulled her into a deep, celestial lookin' kiss.
I smiled smugly, but then raised my eyebrows. Um, okay . . . how much was he trying to convince me?
After about thirty seconds, Adam seceded, slowly and tenderly. His lips met hers a little still. CeeCee was breathing very fast, staring into his eyes absorbedly. Adam returned her gaze with one of shock and bewilderment. He still gripped her shoulders ardently. A spell seemed to have them locked in a separate, magical world.
'Oh my God,' CeeCee gasped quietly.
I gawked. 'Whoa. Maybe I should leave the room,' I teased.
Oops, I'd broken the spell.
Adam dropped CeeCee, so she fell back against the mattress. Her face was blank, and she looked very flushed. Adam kept coughing for some reason.
'See? I'm not gay,' he averred. Traces of a grin were creeping over his lips. CeeCee still looked stunned.
'Yeah, I registered that,' I smirked.
Oh, nicely done, Suze!
Adam, looking a little reluctant, turned to CeeCee. 'Sorry, Spider. Got a little carried away there,' he sniggered, but there was a nervousness in his laughter now.
CeeCee followed suit, giggling anxiously. 'Yeah, I noticed.'
Cee, giggling?
What next, an apocalypse?
Then Adam totally destroyed all my work. 'Sorry about that. Don't get the wrong idea, ha.'
CeeCee's face fell very softly. 'Uh, no.' She laughed, but an echo of disappointment could be heard and felt it. 'I knew that.'
Only she wished she didn't.
Adam coughed. 'Oh, look,' he said, pointing at the screen. 'Fire. Isn't' that funny? Ha. Fire is always funny. It's so hot, and red, and, um, funny –'
I stared at him. How thick was he?! I had seen him while he was kissing her! He was totally into her, and now he was acting like it was a big mistake!
The dirty scum!
CeeCee shrugged at me. 'Oh well,' she whispered, 'It was a nice experience, even if it was just to prove that he wasn't a fag.'
I settled down on my butt again on the floor. Cee and Adam were now sitting on opposite sides of the bed – Adam over the pillows, and CeeCee at the foot. Oh, great. I'd made it worse. I didn't mean to. I mean, I thought that they'd both realized how stupid they were being.
But Adam's just a thick head.
I pouted as the end credits rolled by. Now I was feeling really depressed. And by then, all the cakes had gone. And the chips, courtesy of Adam, of course. He'd scoffed the lot.
I just kept thinking about everything. How guilty I was feeling . . . Paul, Jesse, Timothy, my Dad . . .
Oh, God, Dad. Where did he send you?
After a while, CeeCee noticed my silence.
'Suze, what's up?'
I blinked out of my thoughts. 'Huh? Oh . . .uh, nothing.'
Adam pressed a button on the remote and the TV switched off. 'Is it Paul?' he asked confidently, thinking that CeeCee didn't have a clue what he was on about.
Only she did.
'He knows about Paul?!' she squeaked. 'How does he – '
'What? Did you tell her as well –'
I held up my hands, and stood up. 'I forgot, you both know about him, don't you?'
'Obviously,' CeeCee said, giving Adam a weird look.
Adam grimaced. 'So I'm not the "Secret" guy anymore? Am I not confidential enough for your –'
'No, Adam. CeeCee, well, she's kind of . . . uh . . . '
'Met him,' Cee finished, all business-like. No, as if she'd rather forget it. I stared at her distractedly. Something twigged in my memory.
'That's right,' I said slowly, 'You were the one that found me after I'd been bitten . . . uh,' CeeCee shot Adam a warning glance. 'By the . . . um, spider. Yeah. Big, hairy spider. Lots of venom,' I nodded thoroughly.
Cee snorted. 'That's what you kids call it these days?'
Adam looked very put out. 'CeeCee knew about all of this, and not me?' he said, sounding injured.
'Well, CeeCee doesn't know about that time with Heather and Bryce, if that makes you feel better,' I said to him.
Adam went to retort, but bit back on it. 'Oh. Okay then.'
Now CeeCee looked affronted. 'Suze? What have you been keeping from us? This isn't fair that you're not being open with us about this thing. We both know that you can talk to ghosts – ' she looked at Adam, 'He knows that bit, right?'
'I certainly do now,' Adam said moodily, crossing his arms.
'Of course he does,' I sighed, getting cheesed off.
(A/N: Mmm . . . cheese . . .)
She continued. 'Well, so what's the problem? Why are you hiding everything? It's not as if we're going to tell, Suze. We believe you. I kind of have to, because – well – I've experienced one first hand. Twice, now. And he's a dickhead. A dangerous one. So if you've got people like that after you, you need help.'
'No I don't!' I shouted angrily. Why did people think I couldn't take care of myself?! 'If you try to help, you'll only end up getting hurt! Look what he did to my Dad just –'
I stopped talking very quickly, and turned away.
Did they notice? Did they hear?
You betcha.
CeeCee's gentle voice laced my ears. 'Suze,' she said softly, 'Tell us what happened.'
'No.'
'Yeah,' Adam butted in. 'You've intrigued us now.'
Was he sick? Intrigue? God . . . 'This matter is nothing "intriguing" Adam. Paul did something very cruel to my Dad. My Dad was a ghost, up until apparently this morning. And then Paul got into him, and now Dad's . . . just not there anymore,' I finished feebly, staring very stubbornly at a trophy on Adam's desk.
Oh God. Why did I even tell them? Great, now they were going to feel sorry for me. . .
'Oh, Suze, I'm so sorry,' CeeCee said sympathetically.
'No, just shut up about it!' I yelled, turning to the both of them. 'Don't ask me anymore about what I have to do as a mediator. Okay? It's none of your business. It's my problem, and I'm not involving you!'
'I'm already involved,' CeeCee pointed out dryly, 'He's attacked me twice now, Suze.'
'Yeah, Simon,' Adam glared, 'Stop hogging the magical powers. Just because you were born with them, it doesn't mean we can't do anything to help as well. If just to keep you bloody alive, you crazy freak,' he said firmly. He touched my arm. 'Now be sane, and let us –'
'Don't!' I said. 'You really have no idea what you're messing with! This isn't some TV show like Buffy, where someone does all the clever research, and someone else helps the Slayer. Heck, I don't even get trained. Sure, some of these ghosts are sweet as pie,' I raged, in reference to Timmy, 'But the others, like Paul, they're only out to kill, and are more than capable of it. You realized that he murdered Bryce Martinsen? And a whole list of others. Cee, he could have killed you if he wanted to! You don't get any of this! It isn't a game. There's no second chance draws. Paul, he's out to kill. If you get in his way, he'll make you move. And it's you two that I'm worried about at the moment. He's doing everything he can to hurt me, and if he comes after either of you – ' my throat refused to talk any longer. I stared at the both of them. Through the course of this little speech, I'd been turning into an emotional wreck. I wasn't crying, but I felt that my eyes were wet.
Damn.
Both of them were staring at me with grave faces.
I shook my head, and turned away from the pair of them, going to stand by Adam's little window. His whole room was dark green, with a black bed covers and furniture. Green.
My eyes were green.
I breathed heavily, glaring at the green paint intensely.
'Suze,' Adam said carefully, 'Do you wanna go to a party tomorrow night?'
I blinked, and turned back. 'What?'
'A party, yeah!' CeeCee said a little too enthusiastically. 'That's a great idea! We can, you know, forget about things like, um, this, and just have fun and relax.'
I thought about it. You know, a party sounded like the answer to my prayers. Loud music that drained my mind of thought . . .
'Okay,' I said. 'Your parents won't mind about it being a school night?'
'Who said our parents have to know?' Adam grinned naughtily. 'I heard there's one at this guy's house tomorrow. We can go crash there for a few hours and lose it there.'
I nodded wistfully. 'Yeah . . . yeah. Done. We're going.'
Adam beamed. 'I did something right?'
'No. You just suggested it.'
'Ha ha, Adam,' CeeCee taunted.
Adam flushed. 'Shut up, Funnel-Webb.'
Revenge of the whacking . . .
Maybe this party would clear my head. Get these stupid thoughts of Paul out of my head. About all the things he'd done, all the things he was going to do –
And all the things I wanted him to do . . .
God, please spare me. I'm possessed, I know. There's just, some part of me wants him so bad. It's a smaller part, but God, it's powerful. This feeling isn't moral, but I can't stop it. It's like it's taking over everything. I just hoped that it wouldn't make me do anything really stupid in the future . . .
Like tell him how I felt.
I mean, in was just a little lust, right?
**************************************************************************** *******************
Okay, I'm way tired now. Enjoy! Like I said, this story may be 2 or 3 chapters longer than Twisted World, but no biggie, right? And trust me, I know what I'm doing with this plot.
PLEASE REVIEW!!!! PLEASE!!!
Regards, MystAngel.
But serious, Linnie. Thank you so much. I was totally freaked that I'd lost it completely.
Everybody? Say "thank you Linnie."
All together now: "Thank you Linnie."
That's nice.
Now that's enough of Lindzi *Lindzi attacks Lolly with a (ironically enough) Harry Potter OrdPhoe book* OW! I mean, uh, Lindzi has been thanked, let's move onto more important stuff – OW!
*Lolly's screams of pain fade into the distance as the mellifluous voice in your head begins to read you another installment of Addicted . . .*
**************************************************************************** ********************
How bad is my luck? No, I'm so serious. What is up with all this heinous misfortune that is plaguing me like . . . well, the plague? Is it right? I mean, there is no justice in anything that's happening to me. Because, let's be fair, people . . .
My hair STINKS!
It is SO gross! It has this dead smell to it! It's awful and putrid and – currently, bushy! Paul has messed up my hair. He is officially going down.
. . . You know, I hate it when people say "going down" in that context. It's wrong. I mean, if I said that to Paul, he'd get excited. No, I'm serious. It's criminal! He is the sickest, grossest, most evil, cruellest, hottest ghost that I have ever met!!
Uh . . .
Ha ha.
Ha . . .
Hmmm, that "hottest" bit? Yeah, that kind of, um, just slipped out. Completely ignore that. That was an accident. Paul is so not –
WELL CAN YOU BLAME ME?!
No, serious! Despite the whole evil mannerism, when he's not butchering alien cats, sending guiltless ghosts to the Gate Keeper, and – and, uh, trapping, um, innocent little girls in dead, smelly coffins with dead, smelly corpses, Paul has a tendency to appear slightly appealing to the eyes of . . .
Oh, forget the cover up.
Paul Slater is hot.
I know! I should be SHOT! Daydreaming about the enemy is enough to earn me capital punishment, right? Someone, please tell me I'm on excessive amounts of crack? I mean, I know that I have Jesse! I KNOW that! Jesse De Silva is THE pinnacle of sizzle. But Paul . . . well, oh I dunno. It's just that, well, Jesse's so perfect, that it kind of makes you reflect on your flaws too much. Everything about him is so magical. Every aspect is of him is just faultless. He's your stereotypical Prince Charming.
And if you know what I mean, Prince Charming can get a little . . .
Well, uh, too perfect.
Oh my God.
Did I just . . . did I just say that?
Oh, no, I didn't mean that. I love Jesse! I really do! It's just, well, I just feel so inferior to him. He's like, a god or something, and me, I'm just Suze Simon. His apparent knowledge in the art of shifting, it's like, I could never know anything as great as that. I could never measure up to him. He's this beautiful person, with those deep, black eyes and the ultimate tan, and the thick black hair that curls into the back of his head so naturally, and the deep Spanish lilted voice that makes my skin go all tingly . . .
All of that. He has all of that going for him. What room is there for me after all THAT? I'm like, a kid to him. Taking away the fact that he's a guy and I'm a chick, can you see, in scale, that he's 10/10, and I'm like, oh, I dunno . . .
At most, a two.
I'm no being pessimistic. I'm being way realistic. The way that Jesse makes me feel when I'm around him, well, it only barely compensates what I feel when he's not around. The introversion, thinking about how low I am, well, it hurts. It hurts a lot. I don't even know why he even likes me. I'm just Suze.
Just Suze . . .
So what was Paul's excuse, then?
Well, with Paul, it was different. I was above Paul, both literally and in distinction. He was a ghost, and I was alive. I knew in my heart that I was a good person, whereas he, obviously, was not.
But that sense of deficiency, you know, imperfection, it was kind of . . . well, what I wanted. It was like, I didn't have to try to be perfect. I could just let go, and be whoever I wanted to be. Jesse, he thought that it was "cute" when I said something blonde. That was not a good thing. The fact that Jesse brings out the blondness in me, I mean. Paul, the only side I had shown him was my fearful side. He knew that he had control over me in some regard. He was purely evil. I couldn't think of anything good he'd ever done for me, and anything that had been slightly moral had been justified with an act of impiety. Example, when he did my homework for me. Remember that little fiasco? With Mr Osbourne? That landed me in DETENTION?
All because of that really, really gross picture . . .
Um, EW.
But you see what I mean?
. . . Yet, past all that, he knew as well as I did that I had some kind of control over him. He was obsessed with me. I don't know why. I really don't. Frankly, it's disgusting. I'm not worth obsessing over, to be realistic. But Paul's as twisted as the next Bellevue resident. So yeah, he's screwy, he has that reason to a certain extent. But Paul, he's not insane. He knows what he's doing. He plans, even though he's impulsive. He watches, and waits, and is careful about what he does.
He's clever, basically.
Just in one of the most cold-blooded ways that I have ever known.
But he did have something there that was reserved just for me. A fixation. Like, I was a conquest or something. I am a strong person, not just physically, but with my willpower. I'm very stubborn, I know that. I can hold back on things that I really, really want. Is that why he liked me? To know that somehow, he would be able to break me? Like, make me fall for him? Well, as if. Paul is . . .
I don't know anymore.
There's something there. I can't explain it. It's inside of me. It makes me want him, so bad. I don't want to, but I do. I cant help it. I feel something for him that I wish, with all my heart, not to be there. It's an emotion that cannot be named. Or tamed, for that matter.
And it's always there.
Even when I'm with Jesse . . .
~*~
After I'd had a shower in the girls' change rooms, I – grudgingly but desperately – stole a spare "Juniperro Serra Mission" jersey from the clean laundry pile, the smallest that I could find that wasn't a kindergarten size, and a little pair of shorts that some chic. They weren't even cute, but I was desperate. Hey, fashion challenged is way better than being evil on the nose. I mean . . . ew . . .
I hate Paul.
And yet . . . Okay, someone can have my full and willing permission to exterminate me. I am a bug and I need to be squashed. I'm sinning against mankind. Why couldn't these stupid feelings stop? I wasn't in love with him, or anything. God no! I loved Jesse with all my heart! Despite any negative affects he had on me. I didn't love Paul! Or like him! Just . . . I felt this absurd attraction. It meant nothing. I mean, it was just a little lust.
Right?
There wasn't anything wrong with that! Lust is a crappy, insignificant thing that didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. But . . . oh God . . . Lust was like, a sensual appetite, regarded as sinful, according to the dictionary. Yeah. Okay, so I'd been thinking about this. A lot. So much that I went to the dictionary.
Okay, and Doc.
That was embarrassing.
'You want to know about lust, Suze? Well, that's perfectly understandable. Lust, of course, can occur at all ages between all people, but is most common between people who are considered very attractive, like y – um, well, most people say that, er, Kelly Prescott, or something like that, is very beautiful. Not me though. But yes, someone like Kelly Prescott would feel great lust for a person of the opposite sex. She –'
'Can we stop talking about Kelly? She gives me the wig.'
'Er, okay.'
'Thanks.'
'Well, a woman would feel a strong sexual desire for this person. Hopefully a male. While it is not medically more dangerous for same sex couples to have intercourse, I do not approve. I think that it is –'
'Off track much?'
'Sorry.'
'Fine.'
'But yes. Lust. It is, as a matter of fact, one of the more insignificant of the seven deadly sins. It has happened all through history, and has been the downfall of many men and women. It isn't love, although, some people wish it to be –'
'Does it mean anything?'
'Yes, it means a lot. It has to do with the visual hunger for –'
'Uh, I mean, is it a bad thing?'
'Lust? Well, in the Catholic sense, of course. It's a terrible sin. It's horrible, and evil, especially amongst women.'
'Joy.'
'It can be degrading to a woman, and can corrupt her thoughts and purity and –'
'I think we have had enough chat.'
Wow, that kid can be depressing . . .
I was walking down the hall, back to my locker to proceed with my schooling – it was just after recess – when I bumped into Kelly.
'Oh, uh, hey Suze,' she chirped, pasting an unnatural – or surgically enhanced – smile on her perfectly painted face. Her eyeliner enhanced the grey-blueness of her eyes, and her cheeks were so shiny it was annoying.
'Hi,' I muttered, trying to step around her, but she stepped in my way again.
'Whoa, Suze,' she said, her eyebrows coming together in a "what the hell is the matter with you?" expression, 'You look bad.'
'Sick?'
'No, just in general bad.'
'Thanks.'
'But now that you mention it, yeah, sick. Did you sleep last night? Because that mascara looks like it's been on since the Ice Age.'
'Oh, you remembered a small, insignificant part of history. The teachers would be proud,' I said boredly.
'Suze,' she said, looking very sympathetic. 'I am not the person to do this. In fact, I've never done it before. But I have a soft spot in my heart for pathetic people. I do. So, if you want, you can borrow some of my clothes, okay? Nothing Prada, because, well, knowing you, you might wreck it. And nothing black. It'll get dirty too easily. And nothing . . . '
She went on and on for a long time about all of these conditions that I didn't give a shit about. But then, hey . . . She was right. I did look like a dag. Since when should I let my job as a mediator . . . or, shifter . . . get in the way of my public face? What gave Paul the right to rob me of my fashion status?
'Kelly, just give me whatever,' I said, 'And how much clothes do you keep at school?'
'Well,' she winced, 'Ever since that food fight that your little friends, I believe, started, and I got a pie on my . . . well, that was ages ago,' she said, getting redder and redder. Yeah, I remembered. Kelly's ass got pied. That as so funny.
Ironically, that was the day that I set eyes on Jesse.
~*~
Five minutes later, I was checking myself out in the ladies' dunny mirror. Kelly's clothes weren't scabby. They really weren't. Not that I expected them to be, but yeah. It was not a good thing that I was borrowing them in the first place, but I needed to get out of that jersey, people. It was maroon!
And YELLOW.
I had on these cute little white slacks – I unfortunately didn't know of the label – and a plaid baby blue and white shirt that buttoned up. It was a really adorable. I looked totally innocent. Like a little blue flower! With . . . a white stem . . . and no leaves . . . and some weird brown stuff spouting from the top . . .
Okay, so I'm no floral design. Don't tease me!
Rolling my eyes, I followed Kelly to the Student Council meeting that she said we now had. Interesting, I was just dreading about going to English, and this pops up. God is rewarding my hard labour, at last. Even if it's something as tiny and insignificant as that . . . it's a start.
~*~
The Student Council was a wash. All they talked about was the issue of reintroducing uniform again. Uh, WRONG. It was probably a good thing that I'd changed out of what I'd been wearing before, you know, with the Mission jersey and the sports shorts? Otherwise, God forbid, it might have looked like I . . . I supported it?
Oh, good God have mercy!
I mean, you should have seen what they were presenting to the Council as an alternative to free dress all year round. There were these maroon SKIRTS, which were, may I mention, BELOW THE KNEES for the girls, and BELOW THE KNEE SHORTS for the guys, and matching tops.
But that's not the worst.
They were . . . maroon.
Frankly? I WOULD RATHER BE RESUSCITATED BY FATHER DOMINIC AGAIN THAN WEAR THOSE THINGS.
And not forgetting the yellow ties.
Oh, yes.
Well, Sister Gladys, who was forwarding this idea of uniform, saying that we were far too emancipated and wild and needed uniform to discipline us, was overthrown.
So much so that when I suggested that the clothes should be burnt, it was seconded.
And thirded.
And fourthed
And fifthed.
And I am aware that they are not even words.
But it was that bad.
Even the teachers agreed.
It was unanimous.
Sister Gladys was pretty pissed.
Now THAT'S religion.
Amen.
Kelly, of course, wasn't too interested in the meeting. I mean, you think that she would have, seeing that her fashion liberty was at stake. But no. She was too busy making eyes at Aleks Nicholas, a twelfth grader whose good looks almost made up for the fact that he was kind of ninety-five cents short of a dollar.
Almost, I say.
It was way annoying. They kept mouthing messages to each other from across the grade tables.
Joy.
It was about when Aleks began wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and poking his tongue out in this non-joking way, if you know what I mean, well, I kind of turned away.
Very abruptly.
Why exactly do I do this again?
I sighed. It was now after school. CeeCee and Adam and I had planned to mean at Adam's for a movie bash. You know, Buffy, Charmed, Simpsons, watching Titanic and picking it to pieces and point out that bit where someone was supposedly wearing a digital watch even thought it was supposed to be a movie where everyone was supposedly from 1912. Yeah, and all that jazz . . .
Supposedly.
Hehehe . . .
But yeah. Adam drove us to his house. I'd never been there before. CeeCee said that she had before, but it hadn't been very exciting, she'' reported. I had a feeling that the only excitement that CeeCee wanted to have at Adam's house had nothing to do with movie marathons.
If you catch my drift, hmm?
I'm evil. Muah!
Yeah, but Adam was very smoothly spinning the steering wheel of his little V8 bug. He'd just gotten his permit, and was totally enthused about the whole thing. Driving, I mean. He was repeatedly asking "You want a lift?" even when CeeCee said that she was going to the loo, or something. It was kind of becoming force of habit now.
Man, that guy needs a girlfriend.
Mmm . . . anyway.
'So, ladies, shall we make a stop before we arrive at my mansion, which looks suspiciously like a trash can . . . but it's nice and roomy inside, I swear,' he assured us with goofy grin. He flexed his fingers over the steering wheel.
I smiled. 'I'm sure.'
'Better believe it,' he scowled, turning a corner so sharply I had to grab hold of the side door. I was in the passenger seat. He'd insisted I sit there. Don't know why. 'We could of course all just bum around in, oh I dunno, my hot tub where, oh, I dunno, bikinis are required?'
'You in a bikini, McTavish?' CeeCee gagged, 'Oh God, the visuals are too much!'
Adam swelled in bogus outrage. 'Leave my drag career out of this!' he said in mock indignation, 'Why do you insult me, woman?!'
'For the sheer fun and joy of it,' CeeCee smiled dreamily. I knew, I was watching her very carefully in my mirror. She was staring at Adam in much the same manner. You know, dreamily. But she kind of quit it when she saw me grinning at her like a maniac.
'Shut up,' she mouthed at me, glaring good-naturedly with gleaming violet irises. I only saw a rectangle of her face, which barely squashed her eyes, nose and mouth in.
Adam turned to me.
'So what do you say, Simon?' he smiled toothily, and winked, 'You up for a little splash in my spa?'
I stared.
And stared.
'Adam,' I said, 'You have no idea how wrong that just sounded,' I wrinkled my nose.
His eyes sparkled puckishly. 'Wrong you are, my lady. I know EXACTLY how wrong that sounded.
CeeCee stylishly slid across the back seat and thumped Adam one on the head.
'Ow! Hey, I'm driving here!' he snapped.
'Oooh, poor baby,' I lulled in a mothering voice, 'Did she affect you brain?'
Adam smirked evilly, watching the road ahead carefully. 'Not the one that matters, Suze.'
It took a few seconds to realize how gross he was being. But I got it in the end.
'Ew!' I whined.
CeeCee whacked him again.
~*~
"I'll never let go, Jack," Kate Winslet promised dramatically, clinging to a frozen Leo DiCaprio.
And then she let go.
'What the hell was that?' Adam demanded through a thick mouthful of chips. 'She's like, "Won't let go!" and then she does.'
'Rose is a hypocrite,' CeeCee stated.
Was I the only one that got this?
'No,' I explained, 'She's saying that she won't let go of, like, her love for him. You know, she'll remember the time they spent together.'
'They had sex,' Adam grinned, 'Bit hard to forget something like that.'
'You think too much, Simon,' CeeCee groaned. 'Watch the movie and point and laugh when someone dies like you're supposed to.'
'Yeah, and pretend to puke when Rose's cape slips off to show her boobs like genius here did?' I asked, jabbing Adam with my thumb in nausea, 'I'll pass.'
'You're too mature,' Adam said down at me. He was lying on his queen bed over his pillows, with CeeCee draped over his knees, and me on the floor. I know, it was a little weird, but I managed. CeeCee sighed pleasantly. I could tell that she wasn't minding her location at all.
We watched in silence, right up to the bit where old Rose threw the "Heart of the Ocean" jewel over the railing.
'Oh my GOD!' Adam yelled, sitting up so fast that CeeCee was thrown backwards. 'She threw something like that AWAY! She is such a numb nut! She could have sold it to make heaps! I do not want her as my grandma if she's going to do all that sentimental head case stuff and throw away perfectly nice blue diamonds into oceans like that –'
'Adam, shut up,' I groaned, stuffing a handful of popcorn into my mouth. 'You think to much.'
'No, he talks too much,' CeeCee said. 'He doesn't think at all. It just . . . comes. From where, I don't know.'
'From his second brain,' I smiled at her.
She laughed, changed the video, and then repositioned herself over Adam's knees, who was looking confused that we were laughing at his expense.
'Pass a cupcake?' CeeCee asked me politely, motioning to the tray of desserts that Adam had picked up on the way home. I chuckled, and passed her a teeny one.
'You gave me the runt!' she cried crossly, 'It's too small!'
'Size doesn't matter,' I said accidentally.
They both looked at me, and started majorly cracking up.
Huh?
'What?' I asked, 'It's better if it's bite size, isn't it?'
CeeCee hooted shrilly and fell of the bed, shaking madly. Adam was leaning heavily against bedpost, emitting raucous roars of laughter.
'What?' I repeated unsophisticatedly. 'It's just a cupcake, guys.'
Hang on . . . size doesn't . . .
Oh.
'Oh, God,' I said in disgust with myself. 'I am so blond. In a non-blond way, I mean. It's the clothes. Kelly's blondness possesses me. Blame the clothes.'
They only laughed harder.
Joy.
The credits for Buffy rolled on. It was an episode called "Intervention," where Spike got some nerd to build a robot Buffy. For, um, something that wasn't chess. When the BuffyBot was talking to Willow, we all started laughing. (A/N: This is from memory, don't kill me?)
"Buffy, did you sleep with Spike?" Willow asked worriedly.
"No."
"Oh good."
"No, I had sex with Spike," BuffyBot beamed.
Willow looked sick.
"In lots of different ways . . . I can draw diagrams?" BuffyBot said.
We snorted. It was about then that CeeCee gave Adam a furtive look, before looking at me. 'Isn't Spike so hot?' she asked with a smile.
Adam grinned. 'Yeah,' he breathed, 'He's so sexy. Really. I'm not gay, I'm not.'
'Could have fooled me,' I muttered, and CeeCee sniggered. Now Adam was looking offended. 'I'm not gay, Suze,' he said. 'I'm really not.'
I blinked. 'I know that.'
'No,' he insisted, 'You think I am. I play for the hetero team, I swear.'
CeeCee sat up and faced him boredly. 'Mac, she knows that you're straight. Leave it.'
'You believe me, don't you Cee?' he said with wounded eyes. Now he was just mucking around.
'Yeah –'
'No,' I said, struck with a sudden idea. It was stupid, and CeeCee would kill me, but I didn't care. 'Adam, you're as gay as Carson from Queer Eye.'
His offense became genuine again. 'I am not, Suze!'
'Prove it,' I hissed.
'How?'
'Give CeeCee a kiss, and tell me how it feels.'
Both of them stared at me. CeeCee's eyes were wide and accusing. Adam looked appalled. I thought I'd blown it, but then he snapped.
'Fine!' he shouted, 'I will.'
And with that, he grabbed CeeCee's shoulders, and pulled her into a deep, celestial lookin' kiss.
I smiled smugly, but then raised my eyebrows. Um, okay . . . how much was he trying to convince me?
After about thirty seconds, Adam seceded, slowly and tenderly. His lips met hers a little still. CeeCee was breathing very fast, staring into his eyes absorbedly. Adam returned her gaze with one of shock and bewilderment. He still gripped her shoulders ardently. A spell seemed to have them locked in a separate, magical world.
'Oh my God,' CeeCee gasped quietly.
I gawked. 'Whoa. Maybe I should leave the room,' I teased.
Oops, I'd broken the spell.
Adam dropped CeeCee, so she fell back against the mattress. Her face was blank, and she looked very flushed. Adam kept coughing for some reason.
'See? I'm not gay,' he averred. Traces of a grin were creeping over his lips. CeeCee still looked stunned.
'Yeah, I registered that,' I smirked.
Oh, nicely done, Suze!
Adam, looking a little reluctant, turned to CeeCee. 'Sorry, Spider. Got a little carried away there,' he sniggered, but there was a nervousness in his laughter now.
CeeCee followed suit, giggling anxiously. 'Yeah, I noticed.'
Cee, giggling?
What next, an apocalypse?
Then Adam totally destroyed all my work. 'Sorry about that. Don't get the wrong idea, ha.'
CeeCee's face fell very softly. 'Uh, no.' She laughed, but an echo of disappointment could be heard and felt it. 'I knew that.'
Only she wished she didn't.
Adam coughed. 'Oh, look,' he said, pointing at the screen. 'Fire. Isn't' that funny? Ha. Fire is always funny. It's so hot, and red, and, um, funny –'
I stared at him. How thick was he?! I had seen him while he was kissing her! He was totally into her, and now he was acting like it was a big mistake!
The dirty scum!
CeeCee shrugged at me. 'Oh well,' she whispered, 'It was a nice experience, even if it was just to prove that he wasn't a fag.'
I settled down on my butt again on the floor. Cee and Adam were now sitting on opposite sides of the bed – Adam over the pillows, and CeeCee at the foot. Oh, great. I'd made it worse. I didn't mean to. I mean, I thought that they'd both realized how stupid they were being.
But Adam's just a thick head.
I pouted as the end credits rolled by. Now I was feeling really depressed. And by then, all the cakes had gone. And the chips, courtesy of Adam, of course. He'd scoffed the lot.
I just kept thinking about everything. How guilty I was feeling . . . Paul, Jesse, Timothy, my Dad . . .
Oh, God, Dad. Where did he send you?
After a while, CeeCee noticed my silence.
'Suze, what's up?'
I blinked out of my thoughts. 'Huh? Oh . . .uh, nothing.'
Adam pressed a button on the remote and the TV switched off. 'Is it Paul?' he asked confidently, thinking that CeeCee didn't have a clue what he was on about.
Only she did.
'He knows about Paul?!' she squeaked. 'How does he – '
'What? Did you tell her as well –'
I held up my hands, and stood up. 'I forgot, you both know about him, don't you?'
'Obviously,' CeeCee said, giving Adam a weird look.
Adam grimaced. 'So I'm not the "Secret" guy anymore? Am I not confidential enough for your –'
'No, Adam. CeeCee, well, she's kind of . . . uh . . . '
'Met him,' Cee finished, all business-like. No, as if she'd rather forget it. I stared at her distractedly. Something twigged in my memory.
'That's right,' I said slowly, 'You were the one that found me after I'd been bitten . . . uh,' CeeCee shot Adam a warning glance. 'By the . . . um, spider. Yeah. Big, hairy spider. Lots of venom,' I nodded thoroughly.
Cee snorted. 'That's what you kids call it these days?'
Adam looked very put out. 'CeeCee knew about all of this, and not me?' he said, sounding injured.
'Well, CeeCee doesn't know about that time with Heather and Bryce, if that makes you feel better,' I said to him.
Adam went to retort, but bit back on it. 'Oh. Okay then.'
Now CeeCee looked affronted. 'Suze? What have you been keeping from us? This isn't fair that you're not being open with us about this thing. We both know that you can talk to ghosts – ' she looked at Adam, 'He knows that bit, right?'
'I certainly do now,' Adam said moodily, crossing his arms.
'Of course he does,' I sighed, getting cheesed off.
(A/N: Mmm . . . cheese . . .)
She continued. 'Well, so what's the problem? Why are you hiding everything? It's not as if we're going to tell, Suze. We believe you. I kind of have to, because – well – I've experienced one first hand. Twice, now. And he's a dickhead. A dangerous one. So if you've got people like that after you, you need help.'
'No I don't!' I shouted angrily. Why did people think I couldn't take care of myself?! 'If you try to help, you'll only end up getting hurt! Look what he did to my Dad just –'
I stopped talking very quickly, and turned away.
Did they notice? Did they hear?
You betcha.
CeeCee's gentle voice laced my ears. 'Suze,' she said softly, 'Tell us what happened.'
'No.'
'Yeah,' Adam butted in. 'You've intrigued us now.'
Was he sick? Intrigue? God . . . 'This matter is nothing "intriguing" Adam. Paul did something very cruel to my Dad. My Dad was a ghost, up until apparently this morning. And then Paul got into him, and now Dad's . . . just not there anymore,' I finished feebly, staring very stubbornly at a trophy on Adam's desk.
Oh God. Why did I even tell them? Great, now they were going to feel sorry for me. . .
'Oh, Suze, I'm so sorry,' CeeCee said sympathetically.
'No, just shut up about it!' I yelled, turning to the both of them. 'Don't ask me anymore about what I have to do as a mediator. Okay? It's none of your business. It's my problem, and I'm not involving you!'
'I'm already involved,' CeeCee pointed out dryly, 'He's attacked me twice now, Suze.'
'Yeah, Simon,' Adam glared, 'Stop hogging the magical powers. Just because you were born with them, it doesn't mean we can't do anything to help as well. If just to keep you bloody alive, you crazy freak,' he said firmly. He touched my arm. 'Now be sane, and let us –'
'Don't!' I said. 'You really have no idea what you're messing with! This isn't some TV show like Buffy, where someone does all the clever research, and someone else helps the Slayer. Heck, I don't even get trained. Sure, some of these ghosts are sweet as pie,' I raged, in reference to Timmy, 'But the others, like Paul, they're only out to kill, and are more than capable of it. You realized that he murdered Bryce Martinsen? And a whole list of others. Cee, he could have killed you if he wanted to! You don't get any of this! It isn't a game. There's no second chance draws. Paul, he's out to kill. If you get in his way, he'll make you move. And it's you two that I'm worried about at the moment. He's doing everything he can to hurt me, and if he comes after either of you – ' my throat refused to talk any longer. I stared at the both of them. Through the course of this little speech, I'd been turning into an emotional wreck. I wasn't crying, but I felt that my eyes were wet.
Damn.
Both of them were staring at me with grave faces.
I shook my head, and turned away from the pair of them, going to stand by Adam's little window. His whole room was dark green, with a black bed covers and furniture. Green.
My eyes were green.
I breathed heavily, glaring at the green paint intensely.
'Suze,' Adam said carefully, 'Do you wanna go to a party tomorrow night?'
I blinked, and turned back. 'What?'
'A party, yeah!' CeeCee said a little too enthusiastically. 'That's a great idea! We can, you know, forget about things like, um, this, and just have fun and relax.'
I thought about it. You know, a party sounded like the answer to my prayers. Loud music that drained my mind of thought . . .
'Okay,' I said. 'Your parents won't mind about it being a school night?'
'Who said our parents have to know?' Adam grinned naughtily. 'I heard there's one at this guy's house tomorrow. We can go crash there for a few hours and lose it there.'
I nodded wistfully. 'Yeah . . . yeah. Done. We're going.'
Adam beamed. 'I did something right?'
'No. You just suggested it.'
'Ha ha, Adam,' CeeCee taunted.
Adam flushed. 'Shut up, Funnel-Webb.'
Revenge of the whacking . . .
Maybe this party would clear my head. Get these stupid thoughts of Paul out of my head. About all the things he'd done, all the things he was going to do –
And all the things I wanted him to do . . .
God, please spare me. I'm possessed, I know. There's just, some part of me wants him so bad. It's a smaller part, but God, it's powerful. This feeling isn't moral, but I can't stop it. It's like it's taking over everything. I just hoped that it wouldn't make me do anything really stupid in the future . . .
Like tell him how I felt.
I mean, in was just a little lust, right?
**************************************************************************** *******************
Okay, I'm way tired now. Enjoy! Like I said, this story may be 2 or 3 chapters longer than Twisted World, but no biggie, right? And trust me, I know what I'm doing with this plot.
PLEASE REVIEW!!!! PLEASE!!!
Regards, MystAngel.