A/N: Oh my god! thank you all so much for reviewing. I'm so glad you all like it. Please continue to review and as always, Enjoy!-Kiera
3.
I ended up staying in a hotel until Saturday when I was flown to Canada for the weekend house shows. Julian had called twice. I missed him alot, I use to like it when he called me 'baby' because it was tacky and made me feel special. I hated it when he called me 'his piece of ass', but being English it was pronunced 'arse'. But they where baby conversations so even though he never said it, I knew he missed me. The hotel kept me amused with bad pay-per-view movies and the gym which I used once and within five minutes was sure I had dislocated me knee cap. When I arrived at the arena I felt lost all over again, plus my self confidence plummeted when the diva's walked past and I was sure I looked like crap. I settled myself in the canteen and picked over a lasagne. Looking around it reminded me of school with everyone in their own little groups. Just great. I was about to get up when a plastic blue tray landed in front of me and there was John, again. It was sod's law, I was a mess.
"Is the food not to your liking?" he asked. "No steak and kidney pie or whatever you Brits eat."
I sat back down and folded my arms. It wasn't the fisrt time I'd heard the phrase 'you Brits.'
"You'd be surprised to know that the most popular meal in England is an Indian Curry."
"So, no Indian Curry?"
"I don't like it, I'm more of a steak and kidney pie girl myself."
Ok, so my attempt at humour wasn't great, but at least I wasn't insulting him.
"How was your week?"
"I was hauled up in a hotel bored shitless, it was great."
Of course I still had sarcasm. He twigged on.
"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." John replied.
"But the most effective. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Being friendly to the new girl. Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes."
John laughed. "Are you always so paranoid?"
"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you."
He laughed again. It was completely true and although most people laughed when I said that, I really believed it. Like I remember accusing my boyfriend of liking some other girl when I was still in school. He called me paranoid, I had the last laugh when he left me for said girl two weeks later, only it wasn't so much laughing as crying, but I was right and I liked being right.
"How do you like your new surroundings?"
''From what I've seen through hotel room windows, it's ok."
"You should let me show you around."
I know, any other sane women on this planet would of jumped at the chance, but this was me. The paranoid english girl with the irish name.
"I don't think so." I replied quietly, giving the food on my plate such a hard nudge with teh fork it sloped off the plate and fell onto the table.
In an ideal world John would of dropped to his knees, torn his shirt and screamed "KATE! KATE! I can't live without you!", it would also be in a street, and raining, and I'd be wearing a designer dress looking smug. John simply nodded and eat another forkful of some red goop on his plate I couldn't identify.
"No problems. Well, if you change your mind. See you later."
Then he was gone and I felt like banging my head on the side of the table.
I have a younger brother named Timmy, when he was younger it was cute, he was cute little Timmy McKeitty. A tiny little boy with blonde hair. Then he hit 15, shot up to 6ft and was as wide as a house and cute little Timmy wasn't so cute anymore. If it hadn't been for the creation of South Park I don't know what we would of done. Of course now we pronounce it 'Tim-may', with the voice and everything. I love my little brother, but unlike my friends he has no intrest in my feelings and during my depression would frequently stop any arguments by calling me 'a pathetic whinging bitch with no friends.' It sucks when your own brother says that. He has no qualms about telling what he thinks about the things I'm doing.He also insisted on calling me Al, which would of made sense if my name was Allison, or even my middle name, but it wasn't, it was Mary. He called me as I was just heading out of the arena.
"Al. Can I lend twenty quid?"
I stopped dead in my tracks and frowned. "What?"
"Alright, a tenner."
"How do you expect to get it?"
"I'll come round, unless you and dummy hubby are busy."
Typically. My own friggin' brother had forgotten that I had decamped to another country.
"I'm in America."
I could also hear all his thoughts slam up against a mental wall of utter confusion. "What the fuck are you doing there?"
"Sometimes I swear you where dropped on your head at birth."
And then. "Oh yeah! Sorry Al, I forgot. How is it? Do they all go around saying 'Duuuude' and 'Have a nice daaay.' Do they?"
He suffered the same assumptions as me. Blame the media.
"No."
"What use are you? So, been eyeing up all the men. You know, rubbing them down with baby oil."
He laughed.
"I'm hanging up now Tim-may."
"Alright, but send me that tenner."
I ended the call. How pointless.
"Tim-may?"
John was behind me, already changed with a bag thrown over his shoulder.
''We have to stop meeting like this." he joked.
All I could think was it was strike three for me, the underwear, looking a mess now he'd heard me say 'Tim-may' in an actual conversation. The ground should of opened up by now.
"Whoes Tim-may?" he asked
"My brother who wanted to borrow money from thousands of miles away."
He nodded but didn't ask any futhur questions. "Have you got an appartment sorted out yet?"
"No. I suppose I'll be living in hotels for awhile."
"You really should let me show you around, especially if you'll be staying here until next week."
No was on the tip of my tounge but I had contradicting thoughts going around mey head. You know things like why was I saying no? Why was he asking me out?
"Sorry, not now. I have to go drive on the wrong side of the road. Maybe next time."
I wasn't sure if I really meant it or not.
