Half Empty Chapter 5

Adam.

Adam was here to have a go at me.

Can this day get ANY WORSE?!?!

I mean, seriously. Does this non-existent God wanna chuck anything ELSE my way? I mean, how about the plague? Or HELL, strike me with some frigging LIGHTNING?

'We need to talk,' was all that Adam said then. The seriousness of his voice was kind of daunting. I blinked. Was he for real?

'What?' I asked him in clipped tones. I wasn't really ready to see him again after fighting before, after all. God knows the things he'd say. Let's just establish that Adam can be kind of hotheaded at times, and we'll leave it at that. Well okay, no. He's said things in the heat of the moment that he doesn't mean, but still, those things are offensive.

I totally didn't think a night of 'wondering if he was right' would do me ANY good at the moment.

He didn't seem like he was going to answer anytime soon, he was just staring at me, it was unnerving really 'What do you want, Adam?' I asked him again tiredly.

He glared at me, 'You.' I have to admit, even though he said it in a voice that basically sounded like he hated me, my breath caught.

But if he noticed, he didn't let on-God, I hope he didn't notice.

'I wanna talk to you,' he said, his eyes flashing with anger. 'Now.'

Ugh. I guess my disappointment of him not wanting me in the right way showed, since I said, 'go on then, talk,' with a lot more animosity than was necessary.

He seemed slightly taken aback, but he went on, not really looking the least bit apologetic. 'I'm sorry about the thing I said before. God, I didn't think you'd take offense to it. You never usually do. You know I don't mean it like that –'

I wasn't going to take it; I wasn't going to be that easy to win over. 'That's the thing Adam,' I gave him an ugly look. 'You're always saying stuff like that. It was just one time too many,' I interrupted him.

And it was.

That translucent-skin crack? Yeah, that really wasn't welcome. On any OTHER day, I would have been perfectly fine with it. I mean, I got it, like, 24/7. But today, I was just NOT COOL with being dissed about my freak-of-nature-ness.

OKAY?!?!?!

He blinked at me, bewildered. I think he expected me to just let him off; I wasn't going to make life that easy for him. He thinks he can just say anything to me and expect my forgiveness, well I was going to show him that you can't just walk all over CeeCee Webb.

'What's with you? God, this is what I get for worrying about a girl. What are you gonna do next, Cee? Slap me? Ha, at least I can joke around with the guys and pretend that I almost got to second base with Suze, haha–' he turned his laugh into a hacking cough, very quickly, upon my glare. Even HE had realized that this was SO not the time, and had the decency to look a bit embarrassed.

'Not that I have 'the guys' anyway.' He tried to save himself, but he really wasn't helping. I was having a hard time remembering what his point was. Until he said, 'Well, besides you.' Then I remembered that I was furious with him.

'Oh thanks Adam,' I said sarcastically, really annoyed all over again'You see me a guy?'

'No . . . I mean, there a couple of things you have that some guys just . . . don't. But not all guys, I guess. I mean, Freddie, that fat guy in twelfth has them too. Except his aren't –' he paused and smirked at me. I used the pause to cut in before he had time to finish the sentence.

I mean, who wants to hear about man-boobs?

'This is just so you. Everything is a joke to you,' I seethed, and yanked my arm away from him. And I meant it. It was annoying how he never took anything seriously. It was like nothing in the world mattered, except what was going to make him laugh next. What was his PROBLEM?

'Yeah. And why not, Cee?' he looked at me, as if daring me to answer.

'Because, some things aren't just jokes. Some things are serious.' I told him. Waiting for his response, I found that inspecting my nails was easier to do than looking at him.

'Just, this Paul Slater thing isn't. A joke, I mean. That, I'm being totally serious about. See my serious face? Deadpan.' With this he looked at me intently. It was as if, dear Lord, he was actually solemn about this. And, I didn't think he could look any hotter, but there it was, he had pulled it off. 'Ow . . . it hurts . . . haven't used it in a while . . . '

I chose to ignore the last comment, and instead asked him, 'What's so serious about it? Huh?'

But instead of answering me he got all cryptic and gave me an sarcastic look, 'I wonder.'

I wasn't in the mood for games though. Totally not. Monopoly is cool. Scrabble is cool too. But when Adam tries to imitate a cryptic crossword, it gets old, fast. 'What's that supposed to mean?' I demanded.

He scoffed. 'Cee? In case you haven't noticed, Paul Slater is like . . . a . . . I dunno, one of those woman-user thingies. He uses people to get what he wants. And yeah, I wonder who he wants now? Guess what, Cee?' he raised his eyebrows, 'It's not you.'

Wow. Blunt.

That was something I already knew, but it still hurt me to hear it out loud. It was something I expected Debbie Mancuso to say, but not Adam, the guy who has been my best friend ever since he hit Scott in 1st grade for dropping my lunch in the mud. But I can take Debbie being bitchy to me, but Adam? That really hurt.

I was determined not to let it show.

I mean, serious. Adam wasn't being a dickhead. He was being a BITCH.

Remind me not to repeat that to Brad Ackerman or Scott Turner. Our Mr McTavish would only get more wedgies.

'Wow. Thanks Adam. Well maybe you just can't handle that someone likes me. Someone likes me as more than just a friend.' Oops. That implied that I wanted Adam as –

Screw the implications.

'Cee, you're killing me.' Adam laughed humorously, 'Paul doesn't like you more than a friend. Not even as a friend, I'd bet. He's using you to get to Suze. Can't you get that? Jesus, for someone who aces every test in everything, you can sure be dumb. I mean - uh, blind–' he started to falter at the end. So I helped him out a little.

'It's nice to know my friends are so damn supportive, really, cheers.'

Okay, now I was just getting way immature. And by the look of it, Adam was starting to get angry. Again.

'Cee, you're being so weird about this! God, you're the one telling me that Suze isn't interested. Well, at least I know that. It's a healthy fantasy I have, Cee. I mean, visualizing her and I in a steamy hot tub is a great pass-time. But this thing with Paul that you're obviously choked up about . . . it's disgusting. And you're gonna get hurt. And contrary to popular belief, I actually DON'T like it when people hurt my best friend.' He glared at me so harshly, it almost made me choke.

'A-Adam,' I hesitated, before getting my voice back. 'Excuse me? Why is it so disgusting?'

Wait . . .

'Not – not that I even like him.'

Adam rolled his eyes. 'Yeah. Just ASSUMING you like him, right? Hypothetically speaking, of course. Oh yeah, my bad. Cee, it's really hard for me to watch you get all mushy over some guy who only talks to you for one reason - to frigging get to someone else! And I'm NOT going to stand idly by and watch some dickhead make you all confused.'

'Get it into your head Adam. I don't like Paul Slater! I like–' I really did almost tell him. The word 'you' was on the tip of my tongue. I stopped myself just in time though. 'Nobody. No one at all. I'm waaaaay too mature to be worrying about stupid crushes. God.'

Get over yourself, Cee.

He raised his eyebrows yet again. 'You keep denying it, and it's getting annoying. We should treat this just like . . . Alcoholics Anonymous. I'll start.' He looked angry, yet teasing. 'Hello, I'm Adam McTavish, and I have an insufferable, blind, proud friend who refuses to see what's right in front of her eyes. Now let's move around the circle . . . aaah, you.' He pointed at me. 'With the white hair. Share.'

I was about to tell him to do something that I don't think was really suitable to say in front of all these people - and it wasn't a declaration of my love - when he cut me off.

'Now this is your cue to say, 'Hello, I am CeeCee and I am hot for Paul which is BAD.''

Now our voices were starting to get louder, I could feel the gaze of several of my classmates burning through me. But I was angry, I didn't care who saw this.

'For the last freaking time, I am NOT hot for Paul Slater.'

He shook his head in mock solemnity. 'Denial,' he sighed.

I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. 'I am not saying it again; I DO NOT like Paul freaking Slater!' But I didn't quite say freaking.

'Yes you do.' What the hell? What was he, five?

'I don't!' I told him loudly.

'Ha,' he smirked fiercely, 'I made you say it again.'

That was the last straw. He was just so infuriating!

'That's it!' I stormed off heatedly in the other direction.

I started mumbling under my breath, something about Adam, I'm not even sure what I said.

Adam didn't seem to want to let me go though.

Only, not in the way I would have preferred.

No. Fugly wasn't done yelling at me quite yet. Joy.

'Hey, hey, hey, no you don't.' He scurried after me. I was headed for the library, my only haven in this hell of a school. It was where I went to get away from it all, the racism, the bullying, the discrimination. I wasn't going to stop; there was no way I was going to listen to anymore of his crap.

'Cee, stop being a bitch!' That stopped me. I froze in my tracks. I didn't turn around though; it was like I was rooted to the spot.

I could imagine him blanching, I knew him too well.

'I didn't mean that, I –'

That's better.

'Wait. Yes I did.'

What!? I swung round, livid.

Adam. Just. Called. Me. A bitch.

That name was reserved for Debbie and Kelly. Not me . . . never me. He'd never actually called me that before, and had meant it like he did, there.

'You're refusing to listen to me,' he said simply to me. 'And while an overdose of my talking can do serious damage, this is important. Because PAUL could do some serious damage,' he glared at me.

What? Paul? Who was he kidding? Sure, Paul Slater was pretty strong, but it's not like he would hit anyone. HA. That was actually kind of weird. Paul hitting someone? Hello? The guy was a total . . . um, I dunno, but he was pretty nice, as far as that went. He wasn't some sort of monster, but Adam made him out to be Satan or something. Spawn of Satan? Whoever thought he was that was TOTALLY not playing with a full deck.

(A/N: CoughSuzeCough.)

It was almost four now. Seriously. Most kids had gone home. Who wanted to stay at school this afternoon? There was nothing on, after school today. So only a few people trickled down the halls.

'Hey Adam?' I called him sweetly.

'What?' he looked at me impatiently.

'You like the rodeo?'

He stared at me in complete surprise. 'Wha –'

'Because I hope you can ride bull as well as you can speak it,' I went to storm off again.

But Adam wasn't having it. 'WAIT!' he grabbed my arm and whirled me around. Sort of like dancing but not.

Ugh.

Then he noticed a bunch of girls peering at us and whispering.

He dragged me to the nearest door and pushed me in there, before tugging a bit of string hanging from the ceiling, which caused a light bulb to go on.

'Good, we have some priva–Cee,' he gave me a small smile, one that almost made me melt.

But instead I gave him an icy glare. 'What's your malfunction?'

'What? Broom closets never hurt anyone,' he grinned at me secretly, a sparkle typical of Adam McTavish in his eye. 'Unless – '

I didn't wait for him to finish that sentence.

'Go on then, talk.' I told him coldly. I checked my watch, we should have been in lessons by now, but I didn't care. One more late mark wasn't going to tarnish my record. I mean, besides that stupid detention thing. Seriously, it's like Sister Ernestine doesn't have a life.

Must be the all the sex she had to give up as a nun.

Issues, much?

He didn't say a thing; he just stared at me. But it wasn't an angry look. I couldn't place what type of look it was. But it was making me far too uncomfortable for my liking. 'Fine, don't then. I'm out of here.'

I grabbed the doorknob and turned it. But nothing. I shook it harder. Why wasn't it opening?! I rattled it as hard as I could, taking my frustration out on the thing. 'Argh!' I shouted. 'Open!' I pulled it hard and I felt it slip from my hand and onto the floor.

The knob was broken.

'Well done,' Adam clapped sarcastically. 'You sure showed me.'

No way. No freaking way. I was NOT going to be stuck in here with HIM.

I stared in disbelief at the door handle that I had just succeeded to destroy.

Oh my God.

There was totally no way out. I couldn't even see a bar of light under the door. It was like, totally blocked. And this broom closet? Yeah. It wasn't that big, you know.

I don't think that there were any air vents either.

Aww, fudge.

I started smacking my head on the door repeatedly, but Adam grabbed my arm and dragged me back. 'Getting concussion is not really gonna help us get out of here, you know?'

He was being way too calm for someone who just got trapped in a janitor's closet. Especially for someone who got trapped in a janitor's closet with someone they claimed to hate. Well, he hadn't said that yet, but you could tell he wanted to. Before he started looking at me all lovingly anyway.

'Um . . . Adam. Nothing is going to help us. We're stuck in a broom closet. Together.'

It might have been my imagination, but I think he looked hurt. 'You don't enjoy the pleasure of my company, Cee?'

'Not while you're telling me who I can like. Wait, scratch that. You're telling me who I like.'

Okay, now he just looked plain angry. 'I'm trying to help you!' His hands were shaking a little. I'd never seen him this mad before. It was plain scary. I wasn't going to back down though.

'How are you helping me?! How is what you're doing helping?' I knew that shouting at each other wasn't going to do any good but I had to get my point across.

'Because Paul isn't what you think! He doesn't want you. He wants Suze!' Like the rest of the male population.

'Is it some sort of law that no guy can like me for me? Or are they all after Suze?' I scowled at him.

'Stop twisting my words,' he snapped. 'Now shove over, you honestly can't send a woman to do a man's job.'

But of course, since the knob for the door was broken, we couldn't get out.

Adam groaned, as he tried putting the door knob back in, but it had totally broken off.

'Cee, you retard! You broke it!' he whined. 'And this closet can't be opened from the inside, I'm guessing.'

'Shut up!'

'You're the genius who broke the door!'

'Adam, look, I didn't mean – ' I began, but he just ignored me, and charged at the door.

But only succeeded to bash his shoulder.

'OW,' he yelled. 'I forgot. The door is a solid. Meaning . . . it's kind of hard.'

'Are you all right?' I asked in annoyance.

'Freakin' fine,' he growled at me. ' . . . Okay, fine, it bloody hurts. But there's not much I can do, right? Unless you're a nurse. If you are, do you think you could wear that costume that they wear? With the mini-skirt? And the low-cut – '

'Anyway,' I said loudly, to override any of his weird suggestions.

'Anyway? Oh yeah. What?' he said. 'So how are you going to get us out of here? I mean, you got us locked in here.'

'What am I supposed to do?' I cried in indignation, 'Whip out my magic wand?'

'I KNEW you were a fairy godmother!' he pointed an accusatory finger at me. ' . . . you are, right?' He sniggered, despite the situation.

God. This is the man who stole my heart.

Clap, clap, for the handicapped.

I sighed. 'No. I think Suze is the one with the magic powers.'

ARGH!

'I, um – I mean – '

'Huh?' he asked. 'What? The captivating beauty? The total essence of hotness? Yeah, fair enough. She's gorgeous, isn't she?'

'Um,' I said awkwardly, 'Yeah.'

'Well,' he wrinkled his nose, 'Maybe not to you. I mean, you're a . . . you know, a girl,' he said, as if, you know, cautious of using that term with me. 'You are, right?'

I gave him a glare.

He sniggered again. 'I mean, you know, either you're a chick or you're a really wimpy nerd who needs to work out.'

'Thanks,' I scoffed.

The only thing was, well . . . how he said that, um . . . it kind of hurt. I mean, yeah. I know that Adam is a total weirdo. But to think that he barely saw me as a GIRL, kind of meant that there was really no hope for me. I mean, was I THAT ugly?

SINCE WHEN DID I CARE ABOUT WHAT I LOOKED LIKE?!

Oh my God. This was so, so bad.

I turned my attention stubbornly back to the door, just staring at it, feeling very lost. I mean, lost in more than one way. Of course, there was the question, how the hell were we going to get out of here?!

And then there was the question, would Adam ever like me? I mean, I think that he was making it pretty damned obvious that he really didn't see me as someone who he could, God forbid, love.

And plus. I think he was really annoyed at me, but was covering it up.

Honestly. I don't think that Adam can show his emotions properly. He doesn't properly get angry. That's why I was freaked before when he was all with the arm-grabbing. I mean, Adam does not yell at me. Paul Slater is the first topic that has ever got him hot under the collar like that.

It was NOT because he was jealous. A blind dude could see that. Adam was all over Suze. Like everyone else with a penis. So I couldn't comprehend his motives for getting so pissed. I mean, so what? Maybe yeah, I did like Paul. What the HELL did that have to do with Adam? He shouldn't have cared. He should have been happy that I was finally showing proof that I wasn't a) antisocial or b) a lesbian.

Adam poked my arm. 'Hey? What'd I say?'

'Nothing,' I said shortly.

'Why are you being so touchy today?' he fussed. 'It's getting old.'

'Just shut up,' I snapped at him.

'But – '

'Look,' I rounded on him. 'We need to find a way out of here. Okay? I don't know about you, but I REALLY don't want to be stuck in a broom closet all night. That would SUCK. So yeah, if you're NOT going to help, then just shut the HELL up and let me think of something!'

Adam blanched.

'Okay,' he said quietly.

With a grunt of frustration, I turned back to the door.

Then I proceeded to do something very weird.

I screamed.

Loud.

'Ow!' Adam's hands shot to his ears. 'Cee, what the hell!?'

I paused momentarily. 'Someone had to have heard that,' I explained shortly, and continued to do so.

'HELLO?! CAN SOMEONE OPEN THE DOOR?!' I shrieked, while Adam was complaining that I could break glass with my pitch, or something.

I prayed to God that someone would hear.

Which really proves that God is a complete asshole.

Because you know who opened that door?

Um. Yeah.

That would be Bradley Ackerman.

I coughed.

As soon as the door opened, exposing us to the light again, I winced. I mean, we'd been in there for about twenty minutes, and my eyes had to adjust to the sunlight, as opposed to the crappy little bulb, which was flickering, anyway. It was only then I saw how truly dusty this little closet was. And how small. Seriously. About four people, maximum, could fit in it.

But yeah.

'Well, look who wanted some privacy to make out?' Brad said nastily. 'I'll leave you two to it.'

AND WITH THAT, HE SLAMMED THE DOOR SHUT AGAIN!

'NO, LET US OUT!' I screamed through the door, but all I could hear was the laughing of a Grade-A jackass, fading off into the distance.

Oh my God.

Adam, again, tried bashing the door with his shoulder, but it was really starting to hurt him, so, with a grunt, he moved away, and started glaring at me.

I took the hint, to actually try and do something.

'Um,' I said anxiously, 'Maybe if I can shove something under the door – '

'There's no space under the door,' he said.

'Well, what if I – '

'What, Cee?'

'I dunno.'

'That's a first.'

I gave him a venomous look. 'Just SHUT UP. You are SO not helping.'

'YOU'RE THE ONE WHO GOT US LOCKED IN! YOU BROKE THE HANDLE!'

'You pulled us in here, Adam!'

'But – THE HANDLE!'

'It was an ACCIDENT!'

'SO?! IF YOU HIT SOMEONE WITH A CAR, THAT'S AN ACCIDENT. THIS IS LIKE MANSLAUGHTER, CEE.'

. . . McTavish Logic.

Go figure.

'I'm hungry,' he snapped. 'And thirsty. And bored.'

I crossed my arms.

'And I need to fart,' he listed. 'But I won't.'

I rolled my eyes in the dim, black-orange light.

'Be thankful,' he muttered.

I ignored him. 'Turd,' I said wittily.

'Forget it. You're giving me a migraine,' he lamented, holding his head and wrinkling his brows.

'Does the janitor ever come in here?' I asked anxiously.

'Once a week,' Adam said.

'When did he last c – '

'Yesterday.'

. . . Shit.

Kathryn Lee and Lauren Payne.

Unangelichalo and Mystique Angelique