Again, this chapter is really long. I don't know what happened. But still,
PLEASE review!!!!
I stared.
I mean, when you see something like that, all you can do is stare.
Nup, not much else besides the staring.
Staaaaaaaring . . .
Well, and the indignant slack jaw.
Because the girl in front of me? Um, knock out much? Like, WHOA. She was tall, and slender, and man was she beautiful! Her features, they were all so dark. She looked so much like Jesse, only, well, kinda girly. Her eyes were black, and were darkly lined – but natural, no make up. They kind of looked at you accusingly, as if to say, "what in God's name are you doing?" Her olive skin was flawless, and her lips were – again – dark. Her hair was so black and glossy. And well . . . you know, she was more endowed on the chest than I was. Probably the only thing about her was that she did kind of have a very pinched look about her face . . . like, prissy, or something . . . but otherwise, DAMN.
I choked.
'This – THIS is Querida Andres?' I spluttered to Jesse crossly. This was the babe he'd spent OVER a week with?! What was he THINKING?
But Jesse was kind of staring at her in bewilderment also.
Like I said. It was as if staring was the only thing to do.
She wrung her fingers together nervously, blinking like she was totally oblivious. 'Quién es esto, Jesse?' she frowned, speaking demurely, with a low, full voice.
I was still kinda staring.
'Who is who? Oh, es Susannah. Yo lo he dicho acerca de ella. Ella es un chamán,' Jesse said quickly, letting go of me, and running up to her. He held her shoulders. 'How did you get here, Querida?'
The way he called her that . . . querida. That was me. That was my name. It was reserved for me. He didn't say it in the same caressing way – but still. He was calling her something that I thought had been mine. Precious.
Wasn't anymore.
She looked pretty freaked out, with her wide, sad eyes and her pouty lips. Well, those sad eyes were fixated on my Jesse, so I was starting to lose all my sympathy. Well, okay, I didn't have any sympathy, but if I did, it would have been gone when I saw her staring at MY boyfriend like that. In the "you are totally cute can you get rid of the third wheel so we can continue our secret affair?" way.
. . . What?
They began talking in rapid Spanish. I didn't catch a word of it, except the occasional "amigo" or something. Damn, this sucked. But – she'd ruined our happy moment! How bloody often did we get one of those?!
. . . I know it is wrong, but there and then, I took an instant dislike to Querida Andres.
Quietly, I walked over to the bed – whosoever it was – and just watched the two of them. How gentle his hands were on her shoulders, how he maintained such an intense eye-contact with her, how he smiled that sexy little half- smile every now and then, how –
STOP IT SUZE.
Great, I was depressing myself again.
After a while, I cut in dryly. 'So how did she get here, Jesse? I mean, you said how hard it was for you to materialize such a long distance.'
Jesse turned away from her for the first time in about five minutes. See? And people call me an attention seeker . . . I'd given him his time. Just – well . . . fair's fair. He needed some "me" time now. "Me" being me.
'Querida does not know how she traveled so far. She does not understand. She was thinking very intensely about where I was, and thus, here she is.'
'I'm not convinced,' I said bluntly.
Jesse frowned. 'Susannah, no convincing is necessary. I believe her. She is not a girl to lie.'
'Is she a shifter or a mediator?' I asked him suspiciously. I mean, didn't he say that she was only a mediator?
'Soy un mediador,' Querida piped up,' tossing her hair. She edged closer to Jesse, and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. 'Tengo frío,' she said softly, pouting again. Jesse nodded, and promptly surrendered his jacket to her.
I glared at her.
'What did she say?' I demanded.
Jesse scowled. 'She said that she is cold, Susannah. Honestly, what did you think she said?'
'How about, "What a nice jacket. Can I have it? I can't afford on of my own." Or maybe, "Please remove your clothing so I may have full view of your –"'
'Susannah!' Jesse snapped, 'please!'
Querida blinked lazily at me.
Querida . . . damn her . . . damn her and her pouty lips and her puppy eyes and her perfect complexion and her killer figure and her Spanish labeled clothes and her stupid STUPID ACCENT!!!!
AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
'Look,' I said to her with a shrug. 'It was great to meet you, Queer. My heart is singing. Making these little screeching sounds and everything. But I'm sure you and Jesse want to catch up, you know, talk about the weather, and then accordingly exchange articles of clothing –'
'Queer?' she asked in confusion.
'Yeah,' I forced a sweet smile. 'Short for Querida. Sums you up perfectly –'
'Susannah, that's enough!' Jesse said angrily.
I rolled my eyes. Light enough action, right? Wrong. I wanted more than everything than to get the hell out of there. Inside, I was screaming in frustration. 'Jesse, I have to go,' I said dully. 'I really do.'
'Susannah, do not –'
'No, I will,' I interrupted, and made for the door.
'Seré espalda,' he babbled to Querida warmly, and then grabbed my upper arm, and pulled me out the door angrily. 'Susannah, what is wrong with you?'
I stared up at him fiercely. 'Nothing. Not a thing. Except that you are cutting off all circulation in my upper arm.'
He let go as if it had sprouted antennae. 'Your behaviour is appalling. You were rude, and – and exploitive –'
'Exploitive?' I laughed furiously, 'oooh, big word. How the hell did I manage to be exploitive?'
'Exploiting the fact that she cannot understand your language, and making a mockery of her ignorance,' he shot back at me, his eyes blazing.
I sniffed. 'So?'
'So nothing, Susannah! You cannot treat her like that! She has done nothing to you to deserve –'
'I know,' I butted in irritably, 'but . . . oh just forget it.'
'No, Susannah!' he yelled. 'Tell me what is the matter with you! You don't just act like that to someone who you have just –'
'DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!' I screamed back at him, shoving him against the wall forcefully. He looked bewildered, but then, really angry.
But I'd had enough. I wasn't going to hear him talk shit. Hear him defend that little . . . Okay, I KNEW that I was being perverse! But – but, well, you had to be there to understand, okay? That Querida girl, the way that she – that Jesse – that she and him had just – oh, you know! It was unnerving. I couldn't stand it.
I just kept running. More than anything I wanted to run!
'Susannah! Come back! How will you go at this time of night? I refuse to drive you!' he yelled after me.
'Fine! Paul can hunt me down for all you care!' I shrilled. 'Nice to know you truly care about me, De Silva. It's bloody touching!'
I bolted down the flight of stairs, all the while Jesse running after me, shouting for me to stop. I didn't. I stopped listening, even. I really didn't care. Screw Jesse . . . He could handle himself if Paul came. I could too, if I really put my mind to it . . .I knew that I could, I just – oh, GOD!
This freaking house! It's like a labyrinth! For God's sake! How was I supposed to find my bag of stuff with all these hallways and doors and –
Oh, there it is.
Feverishly, I snatched my bag, and ran for the front door. Well, I almost got there, give me credit, when Jesse cheated! He totally cheated, and materialized in front of me!
The last glittering particles of his face fell into place and he glared at me. 'Usted es es desrazonable! Susannah, you are angry, and upset. I do not understand why. But you cannot leave in this state. You will only get yourself into trouble. Please, be rational and –'
'There you go! Telling me what to do! Jesse? PISS OFF!' I thundered. I felt burbling molten lava exploding inside of me, and my head was clouded with a dark red miasma.
I gotta get out. I gotta get out. I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE! ANYWHERE!!!
. . . And with that, I dematerialized.
Away from the De Silva manor, I held my head. I didn't know where I was. It was very dark. Like, behind a building, or something. Gently highlighting the shady gloom of the atmosphere were pale deep blue lights. Everything else was black. Shadow.
It felt good to be alone . . .
I backed up against the brick wall, sliding down it. It was so cold. Which was weird. Carmel wasn't supposed to be cold, but it was. Or maybe it was just me. I felt so down in the dumps. Which was, basically, where I was I guess. I looked around some more. I balled my hands and massaged my forehead, jamming my eyes shut. Why couldn't everything just go away? Why did stupid Querida have to go screw up Jesse's and my evening? Well . . . okay, that sounded weird . . . but you know what I mean. We were supposed to be alone, to talk or God forbid, make out. Then Catherine Zeta Jones wannabe had to show up. It wasn't FAIR! And then she's totally making eyes at him! You could totally tell!
So there I was, sitting all alone, in a dark alleyway, with my milkshake- saturated hair and my borrowed clothes, and anger.
And yes, maybe jealousy.
Maybe.
Well, what? Querida, she was way pretty. And she understood Jesse. She talked Spanish with him. Cora said that they went perfectly together. Maybe they did. Maybe I wasn't good enough.
Maybe that was why he stopped kissing me . . .
I clutched my hair. Oh, GOD, why did my world suck? What did I do so wrong to get all of this? Why did that stupid, pedantic princess have to show up? What did she want, anyway?
I glared into space. Into the blackness before my eyes. A bar of blue light was cast across the floor from where the two buildings separated. Everything was so cold . . . of, why did I have these stupid clothes on? I was ice!
I hugged at my arms, and released a breath of chilled air. It came out in a wispy white haze. Above me, everything was black. I couldn't see the stars. It was haunting. Great. The perfect thing at the moment would be for Paul to show up and kill me here. Wouldn't that be ironic? I mean, he had full intentions of doing so. He totally proved that this morning, it is safe to say. So why not now? Hey, who cared if I died a day earlier than he planned? I mean, what's a day when you're me? When the next day is just gonna suck as much as the last?
Cold . . .
With a shuddering breath, I inhaled frosty air into my lungs. The air was bitter in my throat. It hurt. This wasn't fair . . . no justice . . . Adam hated me, so did Jesse, and he was probably off pashing Querida as we speak, and Paul wanted me dead, and my Dad was gone, and everything was just getting FREAKING ON TOP OF ME!!!
With that, I leapt up, and threw myself against the opposite wall, pounding on the bricks madly.
'NO!' I screamed at the tops of my lungs, trying to connect with anyone on an astral level. Anyone? Wasn't there someone out there who cared? Please! 'PLEASE!' I pleaded, as cold tears stung at the corners of my eyes. Why? Life was SO much better in New York! With Gina! And – and Dad was fine! And I didn't have step brothers, and – and . . .
I fell to my knees. I felt like lead. Like lead that had been thrown into a river, and was sinking fast. Fast into a cold, dark, silent world, where no one could hear me screaming . . .
Screaming so loud, I thought I would die from the volume.
And after so long of trying to hide from everything, it hit me hard and fast. I was crying. Crying hard. It hurt my head, and my throat, and my eyes, and I couldn't breathe, and I was trying to breathe, but I couldn't get air, and I was yelping and hiccuping, and I was shaking so MUCH, and it wasn't stopping, because I was just letting everything go . . .
All of a sudden, I didn't want to be alone. I needed someone, anyone, just to hold me and tell me it was all right!
. . . But I knew that there was no one there . . .
Sobbing madly, I closed my eyes, trying to run from my thoughts. Run from my life!
'Er, hey, are you like, okay?' a voice asked softly.
I lifted my head up, wiping my nose on the back of my hand. I'm such a class act, I know. A girl was standing there in the shadow, wearing a black top and black slacks. She kind of looked a little . . . well, whorish, I know, not nice! But she did. The top was way, um, enhancing, and totally put 'em out in public. It was kind of gross. But still, she was just concerned. However, I didn't want concern. I wanted her to go. Whoever she was.
'Um, I just want to be alone,' I whispered. Wow, I'm so hypocritical. 'Could you leave?'
'Well,' she said, taking a small, casual step closer. Her face was still in deep shadow. I squinted at her, trying to make out her features more, but it was too dark. 'It's not the best place to be alone, a dark alley way. No one around. There are strange people at night, wandering around. Looking for little girls,' she added eloquently. She stopped, one hand on her hip.
I sniffed. 'Like you?'
Her hand dropped in annoyance. 'Yeah, but I can take care of myself,' she snapped.
'So can I,' I glared. 'Go, please.'
'Well, what if I don't want to?' she asked. 'It's such a beautiful night. And I'm kinda hungry. You wanna go get a bite to eat?'
'But honey, I don't wanna rush into anything,' I said sarcastically. 'I'll be fine, as soon as you piss off and leave me alone. Okay?'
She stepped closer to me again. I stared at her. Was she for real? Who the hell did she think she was?
Queen of Burlesque?
Yeah.
'Look,' I said. 'I'm really not in the mood. But if you really want me to kick your ass, well, I'm more than happy. So push off before –'
That was when she stepped into the pale moonlight.
Oh my God . . .
'Tara,' I breathed.
She grinned at me, but then stopped in confusion. 'How the hell do you know me?' she demanded.
'I found you . . .' I said. 'I . . . you died.'
'No,' she smiled darkly, 'This is the most alive I've felt for ages . . .'
I stepped back from her. I remembered back to Kelly's party . . .
Flashback
'She's dead! Call an ambulance! TARA'S DE-E-E-E-EAD!' she howled at me, tears dribbling from her sealed eyes. Her forehead was wrinkled in pain.
. . .
'She's got no pulse,' she stated in a low, strangled voice.
. . .
Tara, her eyes . . . Grey . . . She was a pretty girl, too. Well, would have been when she was alive, anyway. Her hair was light brown, and seemed freshly washed.
. . .
They froze when they saw the body.
No . . . Tara. She was a girl . . . Don't call her that . . .
. . .
End
She'd been a normal girl. Now look at her. Jeez. What'd she do that was so bad? Pee in the holy water or something?
'Don't,' I warned her. 'Don't do anything stupid. I told you, I'm not having the best day, and it is not getting better.'
'You have no idea what I am,' she purred, her voice low. She bowed her head, looking up at me with glinting eyes. Eyes that still looked dead.
'Try, oh, I dunno . . . vampire?' I said randomly.
She twitched. 'What the – but . . . how –'
'Long story,' I said lazily. 'And you have no idea what I am either. So get lost before I kick your – OW!' I yelled, as she punched me on the side of the head. 'Now that was uncalled for!'
'Come on!' she goaded, her eyes flashing with sick enthrallment, 'Let's see what you are then. Run, dude. Get the blood warmed up for me.'
I stumbled back. Wow, she was pretty strong. You know, for someone who was dead and all. Well, undead. Ghosts were dead. Vampires, apparently, were not.
But yeah, she didn't need to tell me twice. I totally ran. Ran, ran, ran. I could hear her running after me. I was getting tired. But I didn't stop. I wanted to get the hell away from her. Get the hell away from Paul. From Querida Andres. From twisted life –
Bump.
I bashed into her head on. How did she do that? How?! What good is being a mediator with extra powers and strength, if others can match it so easily?!
'So,' she grinned, 'are you scared?'
'Not exactly,' I yawned – a total act – 'I'm no stranger to getting bitten by vampires. I've been bitten twice now. It's getting boring.'
She looked insulted. 'You've been bitten?'
'Yeah,' I sneered at her. 'Looks like this isn't going to be as special for you as you would have hoped –' But she kind of grabbed my shoulders, and shoved me against the brick wall? I mean, OW factor much?
'You're one of those types,' she shouted in my face, 'think you own the whole frigging world. But you don't, do you. Well, do you?!'
'I don't get that much allowance,' I snapped at her. 'Jeez – OW!' I yelled, as she smacked my face. 'Lay off, you bitch!'
'Shut up!' she snarled, throwing me on the floor. 'Why aren't you scared? It's no fun when they're not scared! BE SCARED!'
I stared at her.
Wow, this chick was a rookie.
'You really need some new material,' I commented to her. 'Scared? When you have a demonic prince of evil attempting to stuff you in a crypt at every corner, then you're scared.'
Which kind of earned me a boot in the abdomen.
I wheezed, holding my stomach in pain.
'I'll just torture you, and then I'll kill you,' she decided with a sly grin, as she continued to kick me. I lay tensely in a fetal position on the ground, so cold . . . with every kick, I felt worse and worse. But the memories of the day dwindled. Pain distracted me from it. I would have preferred for the distractions to be in the form of hot Latino lips . . . but that wasn't available.
Now don't get me wrong. It is so me to get up and totally bust one's chops when one dare lay a finger on me. But . . . it was like, "what's the point?" It really was.
I just couldn't help thinking, 'Wow, what a lame way to die,' when Tara the Terrible got yanked away from me. I just kept staring into space. I didn't see who it was. Just kept staring into nothing . . . nothing, what I felt like . . .
After about a minute – I couldn't hear the noises that the vampire and the mysterious person were making in the background of my roaring mind – a glowing hand waved in front of my face.
My heart stopped. Not – please not –
'Mediator, please, you haven't told him . . . '
I blinked in alarm.
WHAT THE HELL?!
The Red Lady stood there, looking pitiful and small. But . . .
Tara was gone.
I stared at her. The Red Lady, I mean. She just looked at me with the saddest eyes that I've ever seen in my whole life. She like, froze you, and made you feel terrible.
I mean, do I have that effect on people? NO. So what was her deal?!
'I've . . . I've tried,' I said. 'But, it obviously didn't do anything, since you're kind of still . . . uh, hanging around.'
'No!' she cried, 'You haven't!'
'Actually, I have,' I kind of snapped. I mean, I was totally grateful for the little getting-rid-of-blood-sucking-fiend thing, but she was really pushing this. She was!
'No!' she screeched at me, 'Tell him! Tell Red! Tell him it wasn't his fault! It was my time! I –'
Something clicked.
If Red Beaumont had have killed this woman . . . wouldn't she be a vampire too?
. . . Oops.
Maybe I had gotten the wrong guy.
'But wait then,' I said slowly, 'You mean it's not Red Beaumont?'
'No!' she wailed, 'you know red! You KNOW him!'
And then she dematerialized.
WHY CAN'T GHOSTS QUIT WITH THE BLOODY CRYPTIC?!
I trailed along the street. I didn't have a clue where I was. Everything was so dark. This street totally had no streetlights. It was way black. And blue, from the moonlight. Oh, God. This was bad. I didn't know how I was going to get home. I couldn't find a pay phone to ring someone, and even if I could, I had no money.
Bad.
In my hand, I clutched my stuff that I'd been going to take over to Jesse's. More than anything, I just wanted to feel his arms encircling me, and him dropping light kisses on my lips, telling me that he was sorry, and that everything was all right, and that Querida had been turned into a toad.
. . . What? Don't diss my fantasy!
I rubbed my eyes. Man, I was tired. I wanted to fall into a bed, and sleep forever. A dreamless sleep, meaning, no "Paulie" dreams. They were horrible. I didn't want to see him ever again, but since when did I get what I wanted?
The only plus was that Tara was kind of gone.
Good.
Yeah.
The skank.
. . . Hey, gimme a break. You saw what she was wearing! I've seen drag queens dressed better than that!
Oh, shut up.
Why couldn't I just collapse here and now, and sleep? Sure, I'd look like a homeless, and I'd totally be a sitting duck for Paul, but man, I was BEAT. I needed sleep. Mediators need sleep too, you know! They do.
My neck felt itchy. Joy. I scratched in annoyance, but only got my fingers tangled up in a cord around my neck. Great. Even just a tiny thing like scratching my own neck can lead to disaster and –
Hey . . .
I ran my hand along the leather cord, and reached Jesse's Egyptian pendant that was hanging just inside my shirt. I traced my fingers over the embossed gold reflectively, wishing that Jesse was here . . .
But he wasn't.
I am such an idiot.
I kept walking along the abandoned road. Yeah, road. What? It wasn't like some car was going to come zooming up the street. Everything was so quiet. I could hear my footsteps on the pavement clearly.
I don't like the quiet. It scares me.
And just for the ironic contradiction, a horn blasted into my thoughts. In alarm, I dived out of the way, just in time to avoid getting hit by a –
- A V8 Bug?!?!
I gasped. 'Adam?!'
The car stopped beside me, and the door was flung open. 'Whoa, Suze?' said Adam McTavish in awe, 'What the hell are you doing here?'
Only he didn't say "hell" so much.
I looked away. 'I . . . uh, nothing. I got . . . lost.'
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. He was still angry at me, I could tell. 'Yeah. About twenty blocks away from your house. Good one. Now tell me the truth, what are you –'
'What about you?' I demanded, climbing to my feel and dusting off my but from the loose gravel. 'You just drive around deserted streets every night?'
'Only when I'm pissed off with you,' he glared.
'Oh, nice,' I drawled.
He sighed, and turned back to face the wheel. 'Well, get in then.'
I went pale. No, no way. I was totally fighting with him. I WILL NOT LOSE!!!
'No, I'm fine,' I said, tossing my head. 'I can walk –'
'Stop being so freaking proud, Suze,' he groaned. 'Get in the freaking car.'
Again, with the alternate word to "freaking."
'Language, Mac,' I said lightly.
(A/M: "Mac" derived from "McTavish." Capishe?)
Adam looked at me hard. But then, his face broke out into a small smile. 'Sorry,' he shrugged, running his tongue over hi front teeth and fiddling with his watch, 'I'm just . . . pissed. Ignore it. Come on, Suze. Get in the car. I don't want you wandering around our here. There are all sorts of weird people out.'
'You're not wrong,' I murmured, walking to the opposite side of the car and sliding in nervously. I clicked in the seat belt buckle, and pursed my lips a little.
And we were off, chugging determinedly down the horribly silent street.
'So what's your glitch then?' he asked, his light brown hair looking grey in the light. Or lack of.
I ran my hands through my hair and sighed. 'Long story,' I said.
'Well, it's a pretty long drive,' he told me, 'So spill.'
I gave him an oblique glance. 'Uh, sure. I was walking around . . . and then I hitched a ride . . . and then I walked some more –'
'Suze,' he broke me off in annoyance, 'Please. For once in your life, don't give me a highly edited version. I'm not as dumb as I look.'
I looked at him funny. 'No, you're dumber than you look. And that's saying something.'
'Hey,' he gave me a goofy grin, still trying to look annoyed. 'Please. The truth, that's all I want.'
And, going all "A few good men" on him, I gave him a lopsided smile, and cited, 'You want the truth? You can't handle the truth!'
He gave me a slow, cynical look.
I felt really dumb.
'That was lame,' he said dully.
'Yeah, I know,' I blushed.
His watched beeped to indicate the change of hour.
Oooh, this was embarrassing.
'So yeah,' I babbled, 'I guess I really should tell you. This morning Paul totally tried to kill me by trapping me in that crypt out in the cemetery and that was after he exorcised my dad, and I got totally pissed at him and we fought and I was winning and then he trapped me in the grave, and my hair stank so I had to have a shower and THAT is why I'm wearing Kelly Prescott's clothes.'
Adam blinked. 'Uh, I didn't quite catch –'
'Oh yeah, and of course this evening Jesse suddenly turns up from Spain and is like "I thought you were dead!" and I'm like "No, I'm alive" and he's like "Yeah" and I'm like "yeah" and then we kissed and stuff and he told me that I had better stay at his house for the night to avoid unwanted encounters with previously mentioned dickhead Paul Slater the ghost and so I went there and we kissed some more and THEN!' I cried, pausing for breath in outrage, 'this Spanish chick turns up, and totally starts making eyes at MY Jesse, and Jesse gets pissed and I get pissed and I dematerialize and the Tara – the vampire – attacks me and some ghost saves me and then you almost ran over me,' I finished feebly, slumping back in the seat again.
I looked at him expectantly.
His mouth was kind of hanging open. 'Suze? Were you talking Swahili? Or just fast?'
I shot him a venomous glare. 'Oh, shut up.'
He snorted. 'I'm kidding. I got most of it. Whether I believe it, well . . . but yeah. So wow. De Silva did that? See? I told you Italians aren't the way.'
'He's Latino,' I pointed out. 'Dumbass.'
Adam's grin faded. 'Oh. Yeah.'
He spun the wheel sharply, and we went cruising along a dimly lit road, congested with houses on either side. Dark clouds were playing across the sky, slow and lingering.
'Hey Suze,' he said quietly.
'Hmm?'
'Do you love him?'
I turned my head sharply. 'What?! Of course not! I could never love someone who treated me like that! There is no love! None! Why do people keep saying that? I don't love him! Get it through your head! I hate him! He doesn't love me, either! He's just kidding himself! I totally don't find trapping innocent girls in graves a turn on–'
'Whoa, I'm talking about Jesse,' he said.
I froze. 'Uh, okay then.'
He dipped his head a little, sending me a brief eloquent glance. 'Well, do you?'
I frowned. '. . . Yes.'
'Then what are you doing here?' he asked. 'Why'd you go from his house?'
'Because of that stupid, dumb señorita, and her pouty eyes and her clingy little –'
'Okay, I got it,' Adam said quickly, wanting me to stop whining. Joy. What support. 'So, you don't like the new chick. Suze, deal.'
'Who died and made you psychologist, anyway?' I frowned, crossing my arms moodily.
'Sigmund Freud,' he said immediately.
I laughed. 'Smooth.'
. . . Jesse. I did love him. I didn't know what I was doing. Oh God, I was so confused. And scared. What if he took this the wrong way and broke up with me and got together with Querida? Oh, that would SUCK beyond all measure.
'So, uh, Suze,' Adam said cautiously, 'Where are you crashing tonight, exactly?'
Oops. I had forgotten about that . . .
'Uh, I dunno,' I said. I didn't really want to go home. I didn't want to have to face my mother. As soon as I saw her I'd probably burst into tears. Aren't I just so disciplined? 'I'll just, I dunno . . . um . . . actually, I have no clue what I'll just do,' I admitted with a scanty laugh.
Adam's mouth set into a grim line. 'You wanna stay at my place?'
He said it. Just like that. Not accompanied by the "on the condition that you accompany me to my hot tub" or anything. Wow . . . this was the most – most . . . mature side I'd ever seen of Adam McTavish. It was almost unrealistic.
But very welcome.
I closed my eyes, feeling defeated. And very vulnerable. 'Yeah, Adam . . . that would be so great,' I whispered sincerely.
He gave me a genuine smile. 'Hey, what are friends for?'
I smiled warmly at him. 'For scabbing money off, and borrowing stuff and not giving it back and for bumming rides all around town and for –'
'That was rhetorical,' he muttered.
Again, I was in his room. But this time, CeeCee wasn't there. We were in our pajamas. And there was no Titanic video in the VCR.
Adam looked around, embarrassed. 'Uh, I'd let you sleep in the spare bed . . . but we don't have a spare bed,' he winced.
I chuckled. 'It's okay, I'm good for the floor –'
'Hell no,' he said, scandalized, 'I'm totally there. You can go on my bed and stuff. Just if you say any stray pairs of jocks, well, ignore them.'
I wrinkled my nose. 'You're not going to make a good sales person,' I remarked.
'Aaah, the beauty of being an astronaut,' he said dreamily. I sniggered again, shaking my head. 'Oh, you're so funny,' I said sarcastically. 'Just in a non-funny way.'
'You mock me, woman!' he said in outrage, 'Shame on thee who could kick me really hard in the nuts if thou wanted to!'
Again, I smiled. I just . . . I dunno, after the whole weird night, I felt really safe. Warm. Like, Adam was always going to be there. In a total platonic way, I mean. He was a great friend. He really was. A great guy.
I sat on the edge of his bed as he fluffed out a big quilt on the floor and tossed some pillows at one end, before settling another blanket over the top. Then, he came and sat next to me. His hair was extremely shaggy. Almost to a comical point.
'So, you gonna be all right?' he asked. Serious again.
I gave him an "I dunno you tell me" look.
He looked at the ground, before looking back at me. 'This is not the ideal romantic moment between us that I used to imagine when I first met you. That fantasy involved us, minus the cheesy stripy pajamas,' he grinned widely. 'But those days are over. I can totally see that you are head over heels for the Latino lover. Damn him.'
I brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes shyly. I didn't know that Adam used to feel like that. It was weird . . . but still, reassuring, in the strangest way. After everything had been so cold, it wasn't so much anymore.
I looked Adam square in the eyes. They were hazel.
'Adam,' I said quietly.
His grin froze slightly. 'Yeah, Suze?'
I leant forward and gave him a friendly little kiss on the cheek. He went furiously red.
'. . . Thanks.'
Character building. You gotta love it. For the reference, NO this is NOT Adam/Suze fluff. God, don't you people know the meaning of FRIENDSHIP?! Lol, I'm kidding. But yeah. They are FRIENDS. Okay? Nothing more. Good.
And so, the end is near. Please review, and tell me how much I suck?
Regards, Mystique Angelique
I stared.
I mean, when you see something like that, all you can do is stare.
Nup, not much else besides the staring.
Staaaaaaaring . . .
Well, and the indignant slack jaw.
Because the girl in front of me? Um, knock out much? Like, WHOA. She was tall, and slender, and man was she beautiful! Her features, they were all so dark. She looked so much like Jesse, only, well, kinda girly. Her eyes were black, and were darkly lined – but natural, no make up. They kind of looked at you accusingly, as if to say, "what in God's name are you doing?" Her olive skin was flawless, and her lips were – again – dark. Her hair was so black and glossy. And well . . . you know, she was more endowed on the chest than I was. Probably the only thing about her was that she did kind of have a very pinched look about her face . . . like, prissy, or something . . . but otherwise, DAMN.
I choked.
'This – THIS is Querida Andres?' I spluttered to Jesse crossly. This was the babe he'd spent OVER a week with?! What was he THINKING?
But Jesse was kind of staring at her in bewilderment also.
Like I said. It was as if staring was the only thing to do.
She wrung her fingers together nervously, blinking like she was totally oblivious. 'Quién es esto, Jesse?' she frowned, speaking demurely, with a low, full voice.
I was still kinda staring.
'Who is who? Oh, es Susannah. Yo lo he dicho acerca de ella. Ella es un chamán,' Jesse said quickly, letting go of me, and running up to her. He held her shoulders. 'How did you get here, Querida?'
The way he called her that . . . querida. That was me. That was my name. It was reserved for me. He didn't say it in the same caressing way – but still. He was calling her something that I thought had been mine. Precious.
Wasn't anymore.
She looked pretty freaked out, with her wide, sad eyes and her pouty lips. Well, those sad eyes were fixated on my Jesse, so I was starting to lose all my sympathy. Well, okay, I didn't have any sympathy, but if I did, it would have been gone when I saw her staring at MY boyfriend like that. In the "you are totally cute can you get rid of the third wheel so we can continue our secret affair?" way.
. . . What?
They began talking in rapid Spanish. I didn't catch a word of it, except the occasional "amigo" or something. Damn, this sucked. But – she'd ruined our happy moment! How bloody often did we get one of those?!
. . . I know it is wrong, but there and then, I took an instant dislike to Querida Andres.
Quietly, I walked over to the bed – whosoever it was – and just watched the two of them. How gentle his hands were on her shoulders, how he maintained such an intense eye-contact with her, how he smiled that sexy little half- smile every now and then, how –
STOP IT SUZE.
Great, I was depressing myself again.
After a while, I cut in dryly. 'So how did she get here, Jesse? I mean, you said how hard it was for you to materialize such a long distance.'
Jesse turned away from her for the first time in about five minutes. See? And people call me an attention seeker . . . I'd given him his time. Just – well . . . fair's fair. He needed some "me" time now. "Me" being me.
'Querida does not know how she traveled so far. She does not understand. She was thinking very intensely about where I was, and thus, here she is.'
'I'm not convinced,' I said bluntly.
Jesse frowned. 'Susannah, no convincing is necessary. I believe her. She is not a girl to lie.'
'Is she a shifter or a mediator?' I asked him suspiciously. I mean, didn't he say that she was only a mediator?
'Soy un mediador,' Querida piped up,' tossing her hair. She edged closer to Jesse, and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. 'Tengo frío,' she said softly, pouting again. Jesse nodded, and promptly surrendered his jacket to her.
I glared at her.
'What did she say?' I demanded.
Jesse scowled. 'She said that she is cold, Susannah. Honestly, what did you think she said?'
'How about, "What a nice jacket. Can I have it? I can't afford on of my own." Or maybe, "Please remove your clothing so I may have full view of your –"'
'Susannah!' Jesse snapped, 'please!'
Querida blinked lazily at me.
Querida . . . damn her . . . damn her and her pouty lips and her puppy eyes and her perfect complexion and her killer figure and her Spanish labeled clothes and her stupid STUPID ACCENT!!!!
AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
'Look,' I said to her with a shrug. 'It was great to meet you, Queer. My heart is singing. Making these little screeching sounds and everything. But I'm sure you and Jesse want to catch up, you know, talk about the weather, and then accordingly exchange articles of clothing –'
'Queer?' she asked in confusion.
'Yeah,' I forced a sweet smile. 'Short for Querida. Sums you up perfectly –'
'Susannah, that's enough!' Jesse said angrily.
I rolled my eyes. Light enough action, right? Wrong. I wanted more than everything than to get the hell out of there. Inside, I was screaming in frustration. 'Jesse, I have to go,' I said dully. 'I really do.'
'Susannah, do not –'
'No, I will,' I interrupted, and made for the door.
'Seré espalda,' he babbled to Querida warmly, and then grabbed my upper arm, and pulled me out the door angrily. 'Susannah, what is wrong with you?'
I stared up at him fiercely. 'Nothing. Not a thing. Except that you are cutting off all circulation in my upper arm.'
He let go as if it had sprouted antennae. 'Your behaviour is appalling. You were rude, and – and exploitive –'
'Exploitive?' I laughed furiously, 'oooh, big word. How the hell did I manage to be exploitive?'
'Exploiting the fact that she cannot understand your language, and making a mockery of her ignorance,' he shot back at me, his eyes blazing.
I sniffed. 'So?'
'So nothing, Susannah! You cannot treat her like that! She has done nothing to you to deserve –'
'I know,' I butted in irritably, 'but . . . oh just forget it.'
'No, Susannah!' he yelled. 'Tell me what is the matter with you! You don't just act like that to someone who you have just –'
'DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!' I screamed back at him, shoving him against the wall forcefully. He looked bewildered, but then, really angry.
But I'd had enough. I wasn't going to hear him talk shit. Hear him defend that little . . . Okay, I KNEW that I was being perverse! But – but, well, you had to be there to understand, okay? That Querida girl, the way that she – that Jesse – that she and him had just – oh, you know! It was unnerving. I couldn't stand it.
I just kept running. More than anything I wanted to run!
'Susannah! Come back! How will you go at this time of night? I refuse to drive you!' he yelled after me.
'Fine! Paul can hunt me down for all you care!' I shrilled. 'Nice to know you truly care about me, De Silva. It's bloody touching!'
I bolted down the flight of stairs, all the while Jesse running after me, shouting for me to stop. I didn't. I stopped listening, even. I really didn't care. Screw Jesse . . . He could handle himself if Paul came. I could too, if I really put my mind to it . . .I knew that I could, I just – oh, GOD!
This freaking house! It's like a labyrinth! For God's sake! How was I supposed to find my bag of stuff with all these hallways and doors and –
Oh, there it is.
Feverishly, I snatched my bag, and ran for the front door. Well, I almost got there, give me credit, when Jesse cheated! He totally cheated, and materialized in front of me!
The last glittering particles of his face fell into place and he glared at me. 'Usted es es desrazonable! Susannah, you are angry, and upset. I do not understand why. But you cannot leave in this state. You will only get yourself into trouble. Please, be rational and –'
'There you go! Telling me what to do! Jesse? PISS OFF!' I thundered. I felt burbling molten lava exploding inside of me, and my head was clouded with a dark red miasma.
I gotta get out. I gotta get out. I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE! ANYWHERE!!!
. . . And with that, I dematerialized.
Away from the De Silva manor, I held my head. I didn't know where I was. It was very dark. Like, behind a building, or something. Gently highlighting the shady gloom of the atmosphere were pale deep blue lights. Everything else was black. Shadow.
It felt good to be alone . . .
I backed up against the brick wall, sliding down it. It was so cold. Which was weird. Carmel wasn't supposed to be cold, but it was. Or maybe it was just me. I felt so down in the dumps. Which was, basically, where I was I guess. I looked around some more. I balled my hands and massaged my forehead, jamming my eyes shut. Why couldn't everything just go away? Why did stupid Querida have to go screw up Jesse's and my evening? Well . . . okay, that sounded weird . . . but you know what I mean. We were supposed to be alone, to talk or God forbid, make out. Then Catherine Zeta Jones wannabe had to show up. It wasn't FAIR! And then she's totally making eyes at him! You could totally tell!
So there I was, sitting all alone, in a dark alleyway, with my milkshake- saturated hair and my borrowed clothes, and anger.
And yes, maybe jealousy.
Maybe.
Well, what? Querida, she was way pretty. And she understood Jesse. She talked Spanish with him. Cora said that they went perfectly together. Maybe they did. Maybe I wasn't good enough.
Maybe that was why he stopped kissing me . . .
I clutched my hair. Oh, GOD, why did my world suck? What did I do so wrong to get all of this? Why did that stupid, pedantic princess have to show up? What did she want, anyway?
I glared into space. Into the blackness before my eyes. A bar of blue light was cast across the floor from where the two buildings separated. Everything was so cold . . . of, why did I have these stupid clothes on? I was ice!
I hugged at my arms, and released a breath of chilled air. It came out in a wispy white haze. Above me, everything was black. I couldn't see the stars. It was haunting. Great. The perfect thing at the moment would be for Paul to show up and kill me here. Wouldn't that be ironic? I mean, he had full intentions of doing so. He totally proved that this morning, it is safe to say. So why not now? Hey, who cared if I died a day earlier than he planned? I mean, what's a day when you're me? When the next day is just gonna suck as much as the last?
Cold . . .
With a shuddering breath, I inhaled frosty air into my lungs. The air was bitter in my throat. It hurt. This wasn't fair . . . no justice . . . Adam hated me, so did Jesse, and he was probably off pashing Querida as we speak, and Paul wanted me dead, and my Dad was gone, and everything was just getting FREAKING ON TOP OF ME!!!
With that, I leapt up, and threw myself against the opposite wall, pounding on the bricks madly.
'NO!' I screamed at the tops of my lungs, trying to connect with anyone on an astral level. Anyone? Wasn't there someone out there who cared? Please! 'PLEASE!' I pleaded, as cold tears stung at the corners of my eyes. Why? Life was SO much better in New York! With Gina! And – and Dad was fine! And I didn't have step brothers, and – and . . .
I fell to my knees. I felt like lead. Like lead that had been thrown into a river, and was sinking fast. Fast into a cold, dark, silent world, where no one could hear me screaming . . .
Screaming so loud, I thought I would die from the volume.
And after so long of trying to hide from everything, it hit me hard and fast. I was crying. Crying hard. It hurt my head, and my throat, and my eyes, and I couldn't breathe, and I was trying to breathe, but I couldn't get air, and I was yelping and hiccuping, and I was shaking so MUCH, and it wasn't stopping, because I was just letting everything go . . .
All of a sudden, I didn't want to be alone. I needed someone, anyone, just to hold me and tell me it was all right!
. . . But I knew that there was no one there . . .
Sobbing madly, I closed my eyes, trying to run from my thoughts. Run from my life!
'Er, hey, are you like, okay?' a voice asked softly.
I lifted my head up, wiping my nose on the back of my hand. I'm such a class act, I know. A girl was standing there in the shadow, wearing a black top and black slacks. She kind of looked a little . . . well, whorish, I know, not nice! But she did. The top was way, um, enhancing, and totally put 'em out in public. It was kind of gross. But still, she was just concerned. However, I didn't want concern. I wanted her to go. Whoever she was.
'Um, I just want to be alone,' I whispered. Wow, I'm so hypocritical. 'Could you leave?'
'Well,' she said, taking a small, casual step closer. Her face was still in deep shadow. I squinted at her, trying to make out her features more, but it was too dark. 'It's not the best place to be alone, a dark alley way. No one around. There are strange people at night, wandering around. Looking for little girls,' she added eloquently. She stopped, one hand on her hip.
I sniffed. 'Like you?'
Her hand dropped in annoyance. 'Yeah, but I can take care of myself,' she snapped.
'So can I,' I glared. 'Go, please.'
'Well, what if I don't want to?' she asked. 'It's such a beautiful night. And I'm kinda hungry. You wanna go get a bite to eat?'
'But honey, I don't wanna rush into anything,' I said sarcastically. 'I'll be fine, as soon as you piss off and leave me alone. Okay?'
She stepped closer to me again. I stared at her. Was she for real? Who the hell did she think she was?
Queen of Burlesque?
Yeah.
'Look,' I said. 'I'm really not in the mood. But if you really want me to kick your ass, well, I'm more than happy. So push off before –'
That was when she stepped into the pale moonlight.
Oh my God . . .
'Tara,' I breathed.
She grinned at me, but then stopped in confusion. 'How the hell do you know me?' she demanded.
'I found you . . .' I said. 'I . . . you died.'
'No,' she smiled darkly, 'This is the most alive I've felt for ages . . .'
I stepped back from her. I remembered back to Kelly's party . . .
Flashback
'She's dead! Call an ambulance! TARA'S DE-E-E-E-EAD!' she howled at me, tears dribbling from her sealed eyes. Her forehead was wrinkled in pain.
. . .
'She's got no pulse,' she stated in a low, strangled voice.
. . .
Tara, her eyes . . . Grey . . . She was a pretty girl, too. Well, would have been when she was alive, anyway. Her hair was light brown, and seemed freshly washed.
. . .
They froze when they saw the body.
No . . . Tara. She was a girl . . . Don't call her that . . .
. . .
End
She'd been a normal girl. Now look at her. Jeez. What'd she do that was so bad? Pee in the holy water or something?
'Don't,' I warned her. 'Don't do anything stupid. I told you, I'm not having the best day, and it is not getting better.'
'You have no idea what I am,' she purred, her voice low. She bowed her head, looking up at me with glinting eyes. Eyes that still looked dead.
'Try, oh, I dunno . . . vampire?' I said randomly.
She twitched. 'What the – but . . . how –'
'Long story,' I said lazily. 'And you have no idea what I am either. So get lost before I kick your – OW!' I yelled, as she punched me on the side of the head. 'Now that was uncalled for!'
'Come on!' she goaded, her eyes flashing with sick enthrallment, 'Let's see what you are then. Run, dude. Get the blood warmed up for me.'
I stumbled back. Wow, she was pretty strong. You know, for someone who was dead and all. Well, undead. Ghosts were dead. Vampires, apparently, were not.
But yeah, she didn't need to tell me twice. I totally ran. Ran, ran, ran. I could hear her running after me. I was getting tired. But I didn't stop. I wanted to get the hell away from her. Get the hell away from Paul. From Querida Andres. From twisted life –
Bump.
I bashed into her head on. How did she do that? How?! What good is being a mediator with extra powers and strength, if others can match it so easily?!
'So,' she grinned, 'are you scared?'
'Not exactly,' I yawned – a total act – 'I'm no stranger to getting bitten by vampires. I've been bitten twice now. It's getting boring.'
She looked insulted. 'You've been bitten?'
'Yeah,' I sneered at her. 'Looks like this isn't going to be as special for you as you would have hoped –' But she kind of grabbed my shoulders, and shoved me against the brick wall? I mean, OW factor much?
'You're one of those types,' she shouted in my face, 'think you own the whole frigging world. But you don't, do you. Well, do you?!'
'I don't get that much allowance,' I snapped at her. 'Jeez – OW!' I yelled, as she smacked my face. 'Lay off, you bitch!'
'Shut up!' she snarled, throwing me on the floor. 'Why aren't you scared? It's no fun when they're not scared! BE SCARED!'
I stared at her.
Wow, this chick was a rookie.
'You really need some new material,' I commented to her. 'Scared? When you have a demonic prince of evil attempting to stuff you in a crypt at every corner, then you're scared.'
Which kind of earned me a boot in the abdomen.
I wheezed, holding my stomach in pain.
'I'll just torture you, and then I'll kill you,' she decided with a sly grin, as she continued to kick me. I lay tensely in a fetal position on the ground, so cold . . . with every kick, I felt worse and worse. But the memories of the day dwindled. Pain distracted me from it. I would have preferred for the distractions to be in the form of hot Latino lips . . . but that wasn't available.
Now don't get me wrong. It is so me to get up and totally bust one's chops when one dare lay a finger on me. But . . . it was like, "what's the point?" It really was.
I just couldn't help thinking, 'Wow, what a lame way to die,' when Tara the Terrible got yanked away from me. I just kept staring into space. I didn't see who it was. Just kept staring into nothing . . . nothing, what I felt like . . .
After about a minute – I couldn't hear the noises that the vampire and the mysterious person were making in the background of my roaring mind – a glowing hand waved in front of my face.
My heart stopped. Not – please not –
'Mediator, please, you haven't told him . . . '
I blinked in alarm.
WHAT THE HELL?!
The Red Lady stood there, looking pitiful and small. But . . .
Tara was gone.
I stared at her. The Red Lady, I mean. She just looked at me with the saddest eyes that I've ever seen in my whole life. She like, froze you, and made you feel terrible.
I mean, do I have that effect on people? NO. So what was her deal?!
'I've . . . I've tried,' I said. 'But, it obviously didn't do anything, since you're kind of still . . . uh, hanging around.'
'No!' she cried, 'You haven't!'
'Actually, I have,' I kind of snapped. I mean, I was totally grateful for the little getting-rid-of-blood-sucking-fiend thing, but she was really pushing this. She was!
'No!' she screeched at me, 'Tell him! Tell Red! Tell him it wasn't his fault! It was my time! I –'
Something clicked.
If Red Beaumont had have killed this woman . . . wouldn't she be a vampire too?
. . . Oops.
Maybe I had gotten the wrong guy.
'But wait then,' I said slowly, 'You mean it's not Red Beaumont?'
'No!' she wailed, 'you know red! You KNOW him!'
And then she dematerialized.
WHY CAN'T GHOSTS QUIT WITH THE BLOODY CRYPTIC?!
I trailed along the street. I didn't have a clue where I was. Everything was so dark. This street totally had no streetlights. It was way black. And blue, from the moonlight. Oh, God. This was bad. I didn't know how I was going to get home. I couldn't find a pay phone to ring someone, and even if I could, I had no money.
Bad.
In my hand, I clutched my stuff that I'd been going to take over to Jesse's. More than anything, I just wanted to feel his arms encircling me, and him dropping light kisses on my lips, telling me that he was sorry, and that everything was all right, and that Querida had been turned into a toad.
. . . What? Don't diss my fantasy!
I rubbed my eyes. Man, I was tired. I wanted to fall into a bed, and sleep forever. A dreamless sleep, meaning, no "Paulie" dreams. They were horrible. I didn't want to see him ever again, but since when did I get what I wanted?
The only plus was that Tara was kind of gone.
Good.
Yeah.
The skank.
. . . Hey, gimme a break. You saw what she was wearing! I've seen drag queens dressed better than that!
Oh, shut up.
Why couldn't I just collapse here and now, and sleep? Sure, I'd look like a homeless, and I'd totally be a sitting duck for Paul, but man, I was BEAT. I needed sleep. Mediators need sleep too, you know! They do.
My neck felt itchy. Joy. I scratched in annoyance, but only got my fingers tangled up in a cord around my neck. Great. Even just a tiny thing like scratching my own neck can lead to disaster and –
Hey . . .
I ran my hand along the leather cord, and reached Jesse's Egyptian pendant that was hanging just inside my shirt. I traced my fingers over the embossed gold reflectively, wishing that Jesse was here . . .
But he wasn't.
I am such an idiot.
I kept walking along the abandoned road. Yeah, road. What? It wasn't like some car was going to come zooming up the street. Everything was so quiet. I could hear my footsteps on the pavement clearly.
I don't like the quiet. It scares me.
And just for the ironic contradiction, a horn blasted into my thoughts. In alarm, I dived out of the way, just in time to avoid getting hit by a –
- A V8 Bug?!?!
I gasped. 'Adam?!'
The car stopped beside me, and the door was flung open. 'Whoa, Suze?' said Adam McTavish in awe, 'What the hell are you doing here?'
Only he didn't say "hell" so much.
I looked away. 'I . . . uh, nothing. I got . . . lost.'
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. He was still angry at me, I could tell. 'Yeah. About twenty blocks away from your house. Good one. Now tell me the truth, what are you –'
'What about you?' I demanded, climbing to my feel and dusting off my but from the loose gravel. 'You just drive around deserted streets every night?'
'Only when I'm pissed off with you,' he glared.
'Oh, nice,' I drawled.
He sighed, and turned back to face the wheel. 'Well, get in then.'
I went pale. No, no way. I was totally fighting with him. I WILL NOT LOSE!!!
'No, I'm fine,' I said, tossing my head. 'I can walk –'
'Stop being so freaking proud, Suze,' he groaned. 'Get in the freaking car.'
Again, with the alternate word to "freaking."
'Language, Mac,' I said lightly.
(A/M: "Mac" derived from "McTavish." Capishe?)
Adam looked at me hard. But then, his face broke out into a small smile. 'Sorry,' he shrugged, running his tongue over hi front teeth and fiddling with his watch, 'I'm just . . . pissed. Ignore it. Come on, Suze. Get in the car. I don't want you wandering around our here. There are all sorts of weird people out.'
'You're not wrong,' I murmured, walking to the opposite side of the car and sliding in nervously. I clicked in the seat belt buckle, and pursed my lips a little.
And we were off, chugging determinedly down the horribly silent street.
'So what's your glitch then?' he asked, his light brown hair looking grey in the light. Or lack of.
I ran my hands through my hair and sighed. 'Long story,' I said.
'Well, it's a pretty long drive,' he told me, 'So spill.'
I gave him an oblique glance. 'Uh, sure. I was walking around . . . and then I hitched a ride . . . and then I walked some more –'
'Suze,' he broke me off in annoyance, 'Please. For once in your life, don't give me a highly edited version. I'm not as dumb as I look.'
I looked at him funny. 'No, you're dumber than you look. And that's saying something.'
'Hey,' he gave me a goofy grin, still trying to look annoyed. 'Please. The truth, that's all I want.'
And, going all "A few good men" on him, I gave him a lopsided smile, and cited, 'You want the truth? You can't handle the truth!'
He gave me a slow, cynical look.
I felt really dumb.
'That was lame,' he said dully.
'Yeah, I know,' I blushed.
His watched beeped to indicate the change of hour.
Oooh, this was embarrassing.
'So yeah,' I babbled, 'I guess I really should tell you. This morning Paul totally tried to kill me by trapping me in that crypt out in the cemetery and that was after he exorcised my dad, and I got totally pissed at him and we fought and I was winning and then he trapped me in the grave, and my hair stank so I had to have a shower and THAT is why I'm wearing Kelly Prescott's clothes.'
Adam blinked. 'Uh, I didn't quite catch –'
'Oh yeah, and of course this evening Jesse suddenly turns up from Spain and is like "I thought you were dead!" and I'm like "No, I'm alive" and he's like "Yeah" and I'm like "yeah" and then we kissed and stuff and he told me that I had better stay at his house for the night to avoid unwanted encounters with previously mentioned dickhead Paul Slater the ghost and so I went there and we kissed some more and THEN!' I cried, pausing for breath in outrage, 'this Spanish chick turns up, and totally starts making eyes at MY Jesse, and Jesse gets pissed and I get pissed and I dematerialize and the Tara – the vampire – attacks me and some ghost saves me and then you almost ran over me,' I finished feebly, slumping back in the seat again.
I looked at him expectantly.
His mouth was kind of hanging open. 'Suze? Were you talking Swahili? Or just fast?'
I shot him a venomous glare. 'Oh, shut up.'
He snorted. 'I'm kidding. I got most of it. Whether I believe it, well . . . but yeah. So wow. De Silva did that? See? I told you Italians aren't the way.'
'He's Latino,' I pointed out. 'Dumbass.'
Adam's grin faded. 'Oh. Yeah.'
He spun the wheel sharply, and we went cruising along a dimly lit road, congested with houses on either side. Dark clouds were playing across the sky, slow and lingering.
'Hey Suze,' he said quietly.
'Hmm?'
'Do you love him?'
I turned my head sharply. 'What?! Of course not! I could never love someone who treated me like that! There is no love! None! Why do people keep saying that? I don't love him! Get it through your head! I hate him! He doesn't love me, either! He's just kidding himself! I totally don't find trapping innocent girls in graves a turn on–'
'Whoa, I'm talking about Jesse,' he said.
I froze. 'Uh, okay then.'
He dipped his head a little, sending me a brief eloquent glance. 'Well, do you?'
I frowned. '. . . Yes.'
'Then what are you doing here?' he asked. 'Why'd you go from his house?'
'Because of that stupid, dumb señorita, and her pouty eyes and her clingy little –'
'Okay, I got it,' Adam said quickly, wanting me to stop whining. Joy. What support. 'So, you don't like the new chick. Suze, deal.'
'Who died and made you psychologist, anyway?' I frowned, crossing my arms moodily.
'Sigmund Freud,' he said immediately.
I laughed. 'Smooth.'
. . . Jesse. I did love him. I didn't know what I was doing. Oh God, I was so confused. And scared. What if he took this the wrong way and broke up with me and got together with Querida? Oh, that would SUCK beyond all measure.
'So, uh, Suze,' Adam said cautiously, 'Where are you crashing tonight, exactly?'
Oops. I had forgotten about that . . .
'Uh, I dunno,' I said. I didn't really want to go home. I didn't want to have to face my mother. As soon as I saw her I'd probably burst into tears. Aren't I just so disciplined? 'I'll just, I dunno . . . um . . . actually, I have no clue what I'll just do,' I admitted with a scanty laugh.
Adam's mouth set into a grim line. 'You wanna stay at my place?'
He said it. Just like that. Not accompanied by the "on the condition that you accompany me to my hot tub" or anything. Wow . . . this was the most – most . . . mature side I'd ever seen of Adam McTavish. It was almost unrealistic.
But very welcome.
I closed my eyes, feeling defeated. And very vulnerable. 'Yeah, Adam . . . that would be so great,' I whispered sincerely.
He gave me a genuine smile. 'Hey, what are friends for?'
I smiled warmly at him. 'For scabbing money off, and borrowing stuff and not giving it back and for bumming rides all around town and for –'
'That was rhetorical,' he muttered.
Again, I was in his room. But this time, CeeCee wasn't there. We were in our pajamas. And there was no Titanic video in the VCR.
Adam looked around, embarrassed. 'Uh, I'd let you sleep in the spare bed . . . but we don't have a spare bed,' he winced.
I chuckled. 'It's okay, I'm good for the floor –'
'Hell no,' he said, scandalized, 'I'm totally there. You can go on my bed and stuff. Just if you say any stray pairs of jocks, well, ignore them.'
I wrinkled my nose. 'You're not going to make a good sales person,' I remarked.
'Aaah, the beauty of being an astronaut,' he said dreamily. I sniggered again, shaking my head. 'Oh, you're so funny,' I said sarcastically. 'Just in a non-funny way.'
'You mock me, woman!' he said in outrage, 'Shame on thee who could kick me really hard in the nuts if thou wanted to!'
Again, I smiled. I just . . . I dunno, after the whole weird night, I felt really safe. Warm. Like, Adam was always going to be there. In a total platonic way, I mean. He was a great friend. He really was. A great guy.
I sat on the edge of his bed as he fluffed out a big quilt on the floor and tossed some pillows at one end, before settling another blanket over the top. Then, he came and sat next to me. His hair was extremely shaggy. Almost to a comical point.
'So, you gonna be all right?' he asked. Serious again.
I gave him an "I dunno you tell me" look.
He looked at the ground, before looking back at me. 'This is not the ideal romantic moment between us that I used to imagine when I first met you. That fantasy involved us, minus the cheesy stripy pajamas,' he grinned widely. 'But those days are over. I can totally see that you are head over heels for the Latino lover. Damn him.'
I brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes shyly. I didn't know that Adam used to feel like that. It was weird . . . but still, reassuring, in the strangest way. After everything had been so cold, it wasn't so much anymore.
I looked Adam square in the eyes. They were hazel.
'Adam,' I said quietly.
His grin froze slightly. 'Yeah, Suze?'
I leant forward and gave him a friendly little kiss on the cheek. He went furiously red.
'. . . Thanks.'
Character building. You gotta love it. For the reference, NO this is NOT Adam/Suze fluff. God, don't you people know the meaning of FRIENDSHIP?! Lol, I'm kidding. But yeah. They are FRIENDS. Okay? Nothing more. Good.
And so, the end is near. Please review, and tell me how much I suck?
Regards, Mystique Angelique