A/N: So all the reviews on 26 inspired me to get this chapter done faster! (Less than a week, baby. See, reviews really do kick me into action…) But let me tell you, this was the hardest one to write yet. For some reason I just got stuck halfway through it. But pop-tarts and The Moulin Rouge eventually got me through. I'm glad y'all liked that last chapter. To those of you who liked the Sophie part—Hurray! I've been just itching to write the nice Sophie Walker :o) Expect more of that. And keep reviewing guys. I'm really gonna need some encouragement after the hell I went through writing this one…
bow2thehippogriff: Yeah, I've gotten kind of sidetracked with my other story (I am a certified Lost addict these day) But hey, I got this chapter done super fast :o)
Satan's Advocate: It's hard, because I want to write Christian jealous. But if I write Christian jealous, that means Becka is noticing he's jealous and then she really has no big reason to flip out (later on) and think that he likes… well, you know (don't want to give it away in case anyone hasn't read Emma). I just confused myself. Lol. Hope you got what I mean :o)
Jill: Sorry, you couldn't hate Chase :o) Mwhahah. I really don't think Frank Churchill's all that bad – just a little self-involved – so I didn't want to make Chase like an evil villain, because I don't think that's true to Emma. Emma is her own worst enemy. Lol. Anyways, I hope to write a nice Chase/Sophie centered chapter soon. Not this one here, but soon.
donna: Ah, Jeremy…. love the boy. Here he comes.
Kate: Okay, yeah. That chapter was a tad bit overdone. Too melodramatic for me too. Thus I have titled this next one here in your honor:
Chapter 27
Return from Melodrama
"This is going to be messy."
Sunday morning. I'm standing on West's porch, and me and my suitcase are holding up traffic here. In front of me are two cars, one belonging to Chase and the other to Christian. Beside me is my new-found comrade, Sophie Walker.
"I'll handle this," she says. I watch her gratefully as she hauls her bag and her cousin over to Christian. "Musical cars!" she announces cheerfully to him as she approaches.
Christian's eyes shoot up and lock, for a moment, with mine. But I drop my head sheepishly, and by the time I look back up again he's talking frantically with Sophie. His voice is very low. I can't hear anything he's saying. He looks up at me one more time, then he grabs Sophie and Natalie's bags, walks around, and shoves them in his trunk. And he slams that thing shut.
Sophie shrugs and gives me a thumbs-up. I'm guessing that's my go-ahead.
I carry my stuff over to Chase and his trunk. "I've got a headache," I grumble, as I hand him my suitcase.
"I'm sure you do," Chase replies. He doesn't look at all surprised to see me. Sophie must have talked to him to. I love this girl.
I let out a grunt, which is my only reply. Sophie has snuck her way away from Christian and she's sliding up beside me. "That looked pretty dramatic," I say to her, referring to the animated conversation between her and Christian.
She shrugs. "It's okay, I can handle it. It would be more dramatic if you were the one riding home with him and besides," she pauses, gesturing to me and Chase. "You two have things to talk about." Is it just me, or is she looking very pointedly at Chase when she says that? It must be just me.
Sophie goes back to Christian, and Chase and I climb into his car.
"So about last ni—" he begins, but he doesn't even get to finish that word.
"Don't even start with me, Chase Everhart," I cut him off. "Because I am so over it. Last night I was disgustingly melodramatic, and I made a no-more-melodrama resolution just this morning. So yeah. Don't be expecting any more scenes like that."
Chase and I don't believe in apologizing.
"Becka," he teases. "Aren't you always melodramatic?"
"No, I'm always neurotic," I explain.
"Ah. I take it there's a vast difference."
"Mmm-hmm. Neurotic is cute and endearing. Melodramatic is just unforgivable.
"Uh-huh." Chase sounds skeptical.
I lean back into my seat. "I think we should like Sophie Walker, by the way," I say, turning my head to look at him. "She's a nice girl."
"Yeah. I noticed that. You and Sophie, uh, making friends, I mean." Chase is sounding strangely uncomfortable. Apparently he is not ready to accept Sophie Walker into his good graces. Ah, well, I suppose these things take time.
"Well, you don't have to like her, but I'm going to." I frown out the front window. "What's the hold up, anyway? Let's get this show on the road."
Fifteen minutes later we are finally driving back toward school. Good, good. We can't get back fast enough. I really need to talk to Jeremy.
- - - - - -
"I'm back!" I announce loudly, dropping my things right inside the doorway. No answer.
"Jeremy?" I try again. "I'm back."
"I heard you the first time," my cousin says, ambling out to the living room. "So how was the weekend from hell?"
"Is there any ice cream in this house? I think we're going to need ice cream for this one."
"Oh no," Jeremy groans as I head for the kitchen. "That bad?"
"You have no idea." There's a half-full half-gallon of mint chocolate chip in the freezer. I grab it and two spoons and head back out to the living room. Jeremy is on the couch. I sit down beside him and open the ice cream.
"So…what happened?" Jeremy prods.
I hand him a spoon. "Well. Hmm. I bitched at Natalie Banks, got yelled at by Christian (who is, for the record, not speaking to me), made out with Chase, made friends with Sophie Walker. Oh, all that and I am officially in love with my best friend."
Jeremy has frozen, his spoon full of mint chocolate chip in midair. "Oh God, Becka," he sighs. "How did all of that happen in one weekend?"
"Told ya you should've come along. You missed all the excitement."
"So out of curiosity," Jeremy asks, "did the making out with Chase happen before or after you realized you were in love with Christian? I'm guessing you're talking about Christian here when you say you're in love with your best friend. Unless you mean Taylor." He wrinkles his nose.
I roll my eyes. "Yes, Christian."
"Okay. Good. So you and Chase—before or after the Christian epiphany?"
"After, actually." Another mouthful of ice cream. I have plans to finish this half-gallon off. "It doesn't really matter, though, seeing as Christian is never going to speak to me again."
Jeremy is looking at me funny. "You're oddly cheerful about this," he says.
"It's a self-preservation thing."
"It's kind of creepy."
"So are you going to give me any priceless words of wisdom, Oh Wise One?" I ask hopefully.
"Well," Jeremy begins and then pauses thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think you're going to need to give me a play-by-play of what exactly went on this weekend first. Because I'm still a little confused here."
"Alright, alright," I relent. This is going to take awhile. We might need more ice cream. When I'm finally finished with the whole long story, Jeremy leans back in his seat. He looks a little dazed.
"Words of wisdom?" I prompt, although things aren't looking too promising from that reaction.
"For once I'm actually speechless," Jeremy says.
"Nu-huh!" I don't believe him. "You're never speechless. Come on, you had plenty to say when I didn't want to hear it."
"Yeah," he shrugs, "and if you'd just listened to me then, none of this probably would've happened."
I glare at Jeremy. "Oh, so what you mean by 'I'm speechless' is you've got nothing to say but 'I told you so.'"
Jeremy grins (evilly, I might add), and scrapes the last spoonful of ice cream out of the container. "Yeah, basically," he says cheerfully.
I glare at him again.
"Alright, alright," he relents, and I know he's ready to give me some of his 'priceless' advice. "Well, first of all, Christian is not going to stop talking to you forever. I mean, you've done worst things than this, yet amazingly the two of you are still friends."
I nod. "Okay. What else?"
"Well," he begins dramatically. Then he pauses before finishing, "Yeah, that's pretty much all I've got right now."
I sigh. Well, that's a start at least.
Another A/N: My goldfish, John Mayer, died last friday. I won him two years ago at a carvnival. He was a good fish. This chapter is dedicated to him. Rest in peace, John Mayer.