Not A Pretty Girl: Alchemy Dream
Author Note: Ah, and fall approaches. Soon, I'll be back to college and I will have very little time to write and update. Hopefully I'll be driven enough to keep this going.
Well, I drew another picture on the Wacom of the characters, and it's better than the other one, haha, if you received that. Once again, I'm considering sending it to my first 5 reviewers for being kind and leaving me some comments. The sketch is of Jay, Emma and J.T., just some simple head/torso stuff. Jay looks pretty badass. Also, let me know if I should continue doing this at all, hah. (If you really want the picture anyways, just email me and I'd send it.)
On a final note, sometime in the future the rating may go up to 'M'. I realize I've said my fair share of expletives in the fic, and there are several other reasons we'll see in the future chapters. Just a little thought there. Better safe than sorry.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Instant recap. Jay got Emma pregnant at the beginning of the summer. Emma loves Jay. J.T. loves Emma. Jay isn't sure how he feels about Emma, but he's pretty sure that he hates J.T. Emma is now, in September, 17 weeks pregnant and her and Jay have finally reconciled.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
He had forgotten what a sunny day in Toronto looked like at dawn, as he sat on the third step on his porch. Taking a long, thoughtful drag on his cigarette, he pulled his black parka closer to his body, trying to keep some heat in. Jay glanced at the weather-beaten thermometer with bluebirds on it dangling from the wall that had been left there by the previous owners of the house. 9C degrees. The clouds were amazing, so far in the atmosphere that his mind couldn't fathom heaven at all. The branches moved slightly with a light breeze, allowing sunlight the pierce the treeline. He squinted his eyes and gazed at the empty streets.
It had been a few days since he had stayed over at Emma's. He had talked to her on the phone a couple of times, but she was always the one who called, and he never had anything to say. It bothered him immensely that she was so comfortable talking to him. It always seemed that immediately after his heart decided he could be there for her, his head reminded him that he couldn't. He was beginning to think that some connections were loose in his brain, like the one connected to his heart. He felt even worse as he reached into his pocket for the bag of marijuana he had dug out from the depths of his sock drawer.
He never could commit to anything. To Alex, to Emma, to staying drug free...
Very few people had been capable of making any kind of impact in his life. His mother was the only woman he truly respected. Even if he still harbored an anger for having to live with his brother, he couldn't find too much bad in the situation if he tried. Shawn had done everything possible to ensure his safety, even when it backfired (which it usually did.) Cameron had been a true friend, even when he had kicked Jay out of his circle for a while when he invited the Montreal Crew to his house and Amy had gotten alcohol poisoning. He got a call from him about once a month from Wasaga, reporting how the new life was going, about the girls, if there were any, etc. Jay hadn't yet told Sean about Emma. He had rationalized with himself that it'd be perfect to tell him when he found out the gender of the kid. He'd find any excuse he could to keep Sean from knowing. He'd always known deep down that even though Sean and Emma would always be tight as friends, he'd never get over her. Sure, he had loved Ellie, and he always would because he's one of those guys that will always kinda love the girls they ditch, but there was something about Emma.
And Jay saw it.
He found himself jealous that he would probably never amount to enough to satisfy her like Sean had. Sean could go to bed with a girl, and pillow talk her into pacification, and in the morning detach himself and leave. It was a skill Jay didn't have, a trick he didn't possess. Even with the fallout with Alex, he'd been sick at himself for about a week, but he had been capable of training his mind to push the six years of memories to the back burner. Sure, he'd never forget her, but he'd never love her again. There was no point in trying.
He held the ziploc bag up to the light, wondering why he did the drugs anyways. They were temporary, and he needed to smoke more every time to get to his "place". He used to love the smell of pot, the burning sensation the good stuff gave him. He used to love getting stoned in his car back when he first moved here and had no friends. But things changed. He met Sean, who was very anti-drug, but was pro-theft, which was good enough. Alex had been the one to introduce him to marijuana, and to the harder drugs when things got hard with her home life. By the age of fourteen he had gatewayed into acid, sneaking out to trip at those kind of parties. By the time he reached Degrassi, he had sampled every club drug he could get his hand on. But throughout his stint, marijuana had been the most faithful, always giving him the high without the nasty after effect of a lost friendship, depression, or waking up in bed with a stranger.
Things changed slowly, and all signs traced the beginning of his detachment with drugs to the beginning of his interaction with Emma. For example, he had needed a smoke something fierce when driving Sean, Emma and Ellie to Wasaga before Sean's fallout with his family. He knew Sean wouldn't approve, but he wouldn't care too long, and Ellie had been hanging with Alex a little, so he was sure she had been around it before. He pulled out the the joint, happy for once that he wasn't driving, and began to light it, when Emma reached forward and pulled it from his fingers, throwing it out the window. He felt the anger rising in his gut as the expletives flew from his lips, getting even angrier when she ignored them. The tension disappeared when he looked down at her, buried in the sand, smiling. Looking at the fiery sunrise, he felt a smile creep to his face.
And he had hardly touched pot since.
"Jay, breakfast." Shawn emerged halfway from the door, unshaven and disheveled, dressed in sweatpants and a black hoodie. Jay shoved the bag into his pocket hastily, hoping his brother hadn't seen him with the weed. Shawn had always been the clean cut Hogart brother. Standing up, he ground the cigarette out with his foot and stepped in the house, rubbing his arms.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Jay walked out the door, chewing a sausage biscuit. Jangling his keys, he opened his door, throwing his books roughly into the back seat. Lately boredom and denial had forced him to do homework. Sliding into the driver seat, he started the engine, letting it warm up for a minute, before taking off down the street. Fiddling with the buttons, he cranked up the heat, shivering when the air was at first cold. As it warmed, he adjusted his stereo.
I keep forgetting to bring CDs.
Turning the dials on the radio, Jay searched for a station he could tolerate. Starting the dial at 104.5, he caught the beginning of a Mariah Carey tune. Rolling his eyes, he changed it a millisecond later. He skimmed past the classic rock station and to 102.1, The Edge. Leaving the dial alone for a moment he was satisfied with song that came on.
He noticed while driving past it that people were beginning to gather at Degrassi, even at 7:15.
God, don't these people have anything better to do?
His trek finally took him to the Dot. Parking his car in the spot by the dumpster that he usually took, he noticed Spinner's red and white race striped car parked by the fence. Spinner had been taking the early bird shift to get in a good two hours before school. It gave him a reason to avoid Degrassi. Why should he come early? No one wanted him there, even if he had showed incredible, un-Spinner like resolve to be a better person. Jay was the only one that noticed. And the fairy, who would talk to him on occasion.
Every morning Spinner would open the Dot at 6 a.m., and sometimes even close it at 11 p.m.
Speaking of not having anything better to do.
Jay pushed the glass door open and sat at the bar next to a middle aged man reading the paper over coffee and eggs. Spinner emerged at the sound of the bell on the door and smiled, seeing Jay. He put his hand out for a shake. Jay took it, and looked at the menu.
"How's it going, Hogart?" He wiped his hands with a rag.
"Not bad, Spinster. Not bad."
"Heard you're back with Nelson." Jay cringed. Had word gotten so far that even the school outcast knew?
"Yeah, sorta." he mumbled. "Hey, lemme have a couple of waffles." Spinner took out a pad and scribbled down the order. "And a coffee. Sugar and crème."
"Whipped crème for the waffles?" Jay looked embarrassed.
"Yeah."
"Be right back. I'm gonna eat with ya before school."
Jay pulled a newspaper off the rack, and quickly put it back after disorganizing the pages, disinterested. He glanced around the diner. It was so comforting. He always felt good when Spinner was working. He'd always have someone to shoot the breeze with. Spinner might be straight cut, but hell, he was good company in lonely times like these. The sounds of clinking plates and forks and glasses in the kitchen, the low murmur of the few early morning customers, the flipping of papers of lower middle class construction workers, it all made him feel at ease. He loved the morning ambiance of the Dot. It's where he wrote his best. He reached forward and grabbed a napkin, unfolding it to roughly 5"x7" size and grabbed a pen from over the counter by the register. Clicking the pen restlessly he let the words emerge from his head.
A joke of a romantic, laying the words down with hesitation
I'd sleep in this diner, wondering if anything's worth anticipation
You weren't my first mistake, but you'll cost me it all
Somehow I'm tired of watching, waiting for you to fall
He scribbled the sentiments with his illegible writing, staring at it, scratching out words and adding others. The editing process was a bitch to him. He'd spent years writing words, but never knew which ones to keep. He always ended up with an excess of words he didn't know what to do with.
He knew that his lines were juvenile at best, and never lacked any clarity. Spinner came around from the counter balancing a large red tray on the palm of his hand. He sat the waffles and coffee down in front of Jay, and next to him a plate with scrambled eggs, biscuits and gravy and a tall glass of milk. Jay nodded his thanks.
"How much?"
"On me." Jay looked at him briefly and smiled before attacking the waffles. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Jay spoke.
"So, I have band practice tonight." Spinner almost choked.
"You? Band? What did I miss?" he said, chugging the milk.
"We need a drummer." He looked straight at Spinner, taking a sip of his coffee. Spinner smiled crookedly and looked down. "You been in practice?"
"Yeah, man...but...that's awesome. I mean, who you playin' with?" Jay closed his eyes and hoped for the best.
"Craig and Marco." Spinner sighed and shook his head.
"I can't. They don't want me. And now that I think about it, why the hell do they want you?" He went into self-pity mode. Jay looked at him incredulously.
"Why do I care? They told me that if I could find a good drummer, that he's in. And I found one. It's your calling. I mean, if you wanna spend all your free time at the Dot, fine by me, but..." Jay shrugged. Spinner sat, looking thoughtfully into his glass.
"I'm in."
"Good. Want me to pick you up?"
"...sure."
"Okay, 6:00. Be ready." Spinner smiled and looked at the clock. 7:55.
"I better get this cleaned up." With that, he piled the plates back on the tray and bussed them to the sink. Jay left short after, leaving a $4.00 tip.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
"I'm really worried about her, Archie. I mean, when I was like, 17 weeks, I looked like a watermelon with legs and a mouth. Seriously. I mean, she isn't showing yet." Spike sat on the couch reading a book while Jack built an exceptionally large tower out of blocks.
"Mama, look it's a dinosaur!" Jack squealed.
"Look at you! You're a little architect!" Spike exclaimed. Jack looked proud, though he wasn't quite sure what an 'architect' was.
"Well, let's wait 'til she gets home, and we'll get her a doctor's appointment." Spike smiled, content that Emma was finally getting some care. She knew the reason Snake hadn't brought it up to her was because lately funds were being pretty well emptied by his doctor bills, and he didn't want to add to her worry. But still, her concern was genuine. Things didn't seem to add up.
As the thoughts ran through her head, she heard the screen door open, and Emma walked through, dragging her corduroy messenger bag.
"Hi, mom."
"Honey, what happened to your bag?"
"It's too heavy, it hurts my back. I think I pulled a muscle." Spike got up and lifted the bag, putting it on the couch.
"Jesus, what do you have in there, Em?"
"Mostly just a few books, and my purse too..." Emma stood against the door frame, stretching her back.
"You okay, honey?"
"Yeah, I'm just gonna go lie down for a while or something."
"Why isn't your boyfriend giving you rides?" Snake said, going into concerned-parent mode. He strode over and handed her a plate with a veggie burger and lettuce, tomato on the side.
"Snake, he gets out of school when I do."
"Just wait there, ask him to pick you up." Snake suggested.
"I guess, I'll ask him. Thanks" she said, accepting the plate. "God, I'm so hungry." she said, immediately scarfing the sandwich. Spike smiled.
"That's a good sign." she thought out loud.
"What is?" Emma said, confused.
"Uh, that you're eating. We were starting to think something was wrong with you, having not been eating much lately." Emma shrugged and walked down the hall, intercepting Jack.
"EMMMM!" he squealed, endlessly happy to see her. She smiled, lifting the boy off the floor and spinning him around.
"Are you causing trouble, you?" she giggled, tickling him a little.
"Nooo! Mama said I was gonna be a arc-kit!" he said, indignantly. Emma looked at him, confused. Jack sighed. "I built a dinosaur! But I knocked it down."
"Ohhh, an architect." Emma smiled. "What is mama fixing for dinner?" she asked.
"Tofu tacos." Snake smiled in mock-excitement. "Hey, Em. I wanted to tell you, we're gonna get you an appointment, just kinda see what's going on with you. It's the same doctor your mom had when she was pregnant with you." Emma frowned.
"Uh, Jay already got me an appointment for tomorrow, so there's no need."
"Well, I'm surprised that he was capable of doing that. Where is it?" Snake said. Emma rolled her eyes.
"The Littleton OB/GYN, I think. It's at 2:15 tomorrow afternoon. He said he'd come pick me up." Snake looked at her, worried.
"Do you need us to come?" he said. Emma didn't know the answer. She was looking forward to her independence, but at the same time she was a little scared.
"Whatever you want." she smiled.
"We'll be there, then. I'm sure you'll need funds, anyways." Snake smiled. He was so nervous.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Emma locked her door and laid on her unmade bed. She rubbed her stomach, and reached over for her phone. She had been trying to calm herself all day, but the impending thought of seeing the baby on the screen with Jay had taken over her life. Her mind was a flurry of thought, from excitement, pride of being halfway through, to fear. What if something went wrong. What if the baby was born with a foot where the eye should go? What if Jay was a horrible father? What if she was a horrible mother? Had he found a job yet? She felt like their lines of communication were still to few and far between.
Calm down, Emma. He cares about you.
She relaxed back on the pillow. Strangely, the most important and all-consuming thought in her head was what colour the eyes would be. Genetically, it would probably have her dark, rich brown eyes, because they were dominant to his blue-ish green ones. But secretly, she hoped they would be blue.
She had studied his eyes when he was driving, when he wasn't looking. She loved the colour. It reminded her of light blue glass.
He was right, she was only thinking of the fun stuff. She was excited about the naming process. She thought he had picked a beautiful name.
Ember Rhiannon.
Even she couldn't have thought of such a gorgeous name, one that flowed off the tongue, suggesting strength, a fiery beauty. It enraptured her to imagine her and Jay combined, their personalities, both outspoken and sometimes too opinionated, both considerably good looking. Her book smarts, plus his street smarts. Shaking her head, she reached over to get her cell phone from her bag. She dialed Manny's number while she peeled her nail polish off. Bad habit.
"Hello?" Manny answered.
"Hey."
"Hey! What's up?"
"Nothing, just wanted to say hey." Emma smiled. "Jay's taking me to the clinic tomorrow."
"Ohh! That's so romantic!" Emma snorted.
"Romantic! He probably just wants to make sure it isn't dead." Emma frowned at the thought.
"Way harsh, Em. So, are you, you know, ready?"
"...I dunno, Manny. I mean, I'm excited that I get to kinda see, proof that it's there, but I mean, it confirms the fact that from this day forth I have no life."
"That isn't true. Look at your mom! She's having the time of her life."
"Yeah, Manny, she comes home from work, takes care of Jack, eats with Snake and me, and sits in front of the tube until she goes to bed at the super-late hour of 10:00. She's really got a helluva night life." Emma laughed, sadly. "Manny, do you ever...regret having the abortion?"
"Well...I think about it sometimes, I mean, it makes me sad, yeah, but I want to do something with my life. I found a way to remember her though, by tying a little pink ribbon on my bedpost. It helped me cope for a while."
"You wanted a girl?"
"Yeah."
"What would you have named her?" Emma asked.
"Craig had a name picked out, for a girl or a boy." Manny laughed nostalgically. "For a girl he wanted Rhoda Renee. For a boy he liked Reuben Clark." They both busted out laughing.
"Wow. WOW, Manny. So what did you want?"
"I named her Rosaline Christine." she said softly. The baby really existed to her, even if she was a ribbon on a bedpost. "So what did you and Jay decide?" her voice perking up.
"For a boy, I want Jason Taylor."
"Nice, it has a good ring to it. Girl?"
"Jay wants to name her Ember Rhiannon."
Silence.
"Em, that's beautiful."
"I know. I looked it up, it means "A mythological nymph of the dying fire."
"Wow. Deep." Manny said, crunching loudly on some chips. "So, what time is your appointment tomorrow?"
"It's at 2:30. No, 2:15." she replied. "Can't wait for them to poke and prod around at me!" she said sarcastically.
"Yeah, part of me is glad I never had to go through it all." Manny said. "HEY! I have a great idea. Let's go shopping tomorrow after you get home. It'll be a 'Congratulations Emma and Jay' party, just me and you. And Jay if he wants to come."
"And he won't."
"Just ask him, Em! I can tolerate him for a few hours for you. Really. We can go eat at somewhere other than the Dot, somewhere nice! Ooh, and we can go shopping for clothes, and..."
"..And you want Jay to come..?" Manny hesitated and sighed.
"Okay, burgers, fries and a flick. How does that sound?" Emma laughed. She loved Manny. She was trying so hard to be there for her. Emma had a feeling Manny was reliving her pregnancy through Emma. Emma's baby would be the one Manny never had.
"That sounds great. I'll give you a call tomorrow after I get home."
"Okay, take it easy, mama."
"...Don't call me that."
"'K. Bye."
Putting down her phone, she exhaled loudly. It was nice to have people to talk to other than Jay. Manny understood what she was going though. It helped her to be able to get all her anxieties and frustrations out. Emma got up and pulled on some sweatpants and a tank top. She then reached under her covers and pulled out Jay's brown hoodie. She loved the smell, the comforting bagginess. Slipping it over her head, she stretched, enjoying the slight burning of her cramped muscles. Crawling into her bed, she cracked open her books.
No rest for the weary.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Jay pulled up to the Mason's house. Spinner's sister, Kendra glanced out the window on the door, scowling. Jay laughed as he heard her yell for Spinner all the way inside the house. Spinner came into view in the window, looking at Jay for a moment. As he made his way out the door, Kendra gave him a little push, sending him tripping over the steps. He looked back and glared at her for a moment, before turning and hopping in the passenger seat. Jay laughed at him.
"You're a real dork, Spinster."
"My sister's a bitch sometimes."
"Didn't notice." Jay said, handing Spinner a can of pop.
"Thanks." Jay didn't reply, instead pulling away from the curb and driving off. He didn't like to acknowledge his own random acts of kindness. He turned onto the main road, heading towards the nicer part of town, where the Jeremiah's lived. The first time he had come to Craig's house, he felt very jealous. Craig's father had been just like his, abusive, mean, hateful. But somehow, he had gotten a much more promising fate than Jay had.
As he pulled in the driveway behind Joey's car, he looked over at Spinner. Spinner had a stony look on his face. It had been months since he'd been here. He looked at the big two story house, a happy place where Jimmy and Marco hung out. He noticed the wooden ramp that was propped against the wall on the porch for the wheelchair.
"Hey, you ready?" Jay said, pulling a liter of root beer out of the back.
"No." Jay waited and looked out the windshield.
"Now?"
"I guess." Spinner tucked his sticks in his back pocket and waited for Jay. They walked around to the side door by the garage and Jay knocked. He heard footsteps. Marco pulled the door open and grimaced.
"Aw, Jay, what is Spin doing here?" he said loudly enough that Craig came over.
"Yeah, what's Spin doing here?" Craig said, all business.
"He's our new drummer." Jay said, matter-of-factly.
"Uh, did you fall and sustain a head injury?" Marco quipped.
"No, I didn't. Look, we all know he's a prodigy. Just let what happened go. Why can you let me in and not Spinster?" Jay rationalized. They were stumped. Craig walked over and pushed Spinner hard, malice in his eyes.
"Trial basis, you bastard. Trial basis." Spinner looked down and nodded. The group moved to their posts in the comfy garage. Craig sat on the old couch with his acoustic guitar, and began strumming a melody he had been working on. It was a soft song, moving from one chord to the next. A simple two chord progression in in 4/4 time. It was rough, but pleasant.
"Craig, I worked all night last night, but I can't think of a good bass line. I mean, the guitar is so soft. What key are you playing in?" Craig played a quick arpeggio.
"B flat."
"Good." Marco said, tuning his bass. "Simple enough." He began plucking the strings a little, trying to see how softly he could play.
Jay seated himself at the keyboard, pulling out the napkin he had scrawled on earlier that morning. He read them to himself softly, and put his fingers on the keys.
When he was younger, in Montreal, his mother had refused to put him in any sports that required any impact, so she decided to put him in music, much to his chagrin. He was taking classical piano lessons at age 4. He was, over the course of nine years, educated and trained in classical, jazz, and blues piano. He came to respect several of the greats, including the bombastic, quick Jerry Lee Lewis, the sensual Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven, which took him 2 years to master all the movements, and the class of Harry Connick Jr., who was in the process of bringing the big band sound back to modern music. He wished he could be these musicians, to become so enveloped in their work they forgot the outside world. But by 13, peer pressure kicked in and Jay abandoned his musical future, disappointing his mother, who had shelled out nearly $400 a year for private lessons.
His instructor had always told him he had a disadvantage, having hands that were on the small side. Their span reached only an octave plus two. Pressing down on the keys, he began playing a hard, loud melody. Craig stopped, looking at Jay.
"Jay, it's a ballad, not a rock opera." Jay sneered.
"It needs power to it, Manning. I'm not here to play pussy music. If you want that, hire your girlfriend."
"Hey!" Craig said, indignantly. "It's for the semiformal. It needs to be a ballad. Play it softer."
"What should I do?" Spinner said, piping up. Craig looked at him and walked over, illustrating the tempo by clapping his hands lightly. Spinner looked thoughtfully, and tapped a beat on the trap every other beat, letting the cymbal slide a little on the third. Craig smiled in spite of himself. Thought Spinner was a pain, he knew his way around a drum set.
"Look, just go easy on the cymbal, and maybe a roll on the fourth. And give it more energy, maybe a hip-hop interruption in the break." Spinner nodded and paradiddled around a little, trying to get back into the swing.
"What about this," Marco plucked a clumsy line.
"Yeah, that should do. Just like, uh..." he took the bass and calculated. "One, two, tree, four, one, NOW." Marco picked it up and tried it.
"No. Like this." Jay interjected and tapped on pedal to simulate the beats in the measures. "One, two, three, four, one, two, three NOW. Slide into the bassline to keep it softer." Marco looked at Craig.
"Try it." Craig walked over and picked up his guitar, strumming the intro, and Marco slid into the third measure, Spinner coming in on the fourth."
"Ok, ok. Stop. Not bad guys." Craig said, surprised. "What about you, Jay? You playing or shouting orders?"
Jay looked at Craig and smiled. "Take it again." The band started up again, and this time, Jay waited for his entrance with Spinner. The piano and the soft trap packed a punch, with Jay's lilting, simple melody. On the eighth measure, he began humming a rough melody, his eyes closed, the strong tenor taking over. He stopped when he realized no one else was playing but Spinner. Marco and Craig just stood, mouths agape. Spinner had his eyes closed, unaware that he was the only one playing, and Marco jabbed him with the neck of the bass.
"You...you can sing?"
"No. I can't." Jay said, wanting to move on
"Yes you..."
"NO. You are singing. Get whatever idea you have out now." Craig shrugged and smiled.
"Break time, anyone want chips?" Craig said.
"Heck yeah! Any spray cheese?' Spinner asked, speaking up for the first time. Craig, in a much better mood, repressed his excitement that they were getting somewhere.
"Yeah, I think we do."
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Jay plopped himself on his bed, taking a bite of his candy bar. After dropping Spinner off he had gone to get fast food, and some cash out of the bank. Shedding his jacket and shoes, he picked up his cell phone to call Emma.
"Hello?"
"Hey."
"Hey." she said.
"So...you feeling alright?" he asked, trying to be nice. He was nervous.
"Okay, how are you?", her soft voice inquired.
"I'm good. Fine." he said.
"Im nervous. You?"
"Nah. It's nothing big. Just a checkup."
"It's gross though, I don't want them poking in me or anything."
"They won't."
"Like you know." she said, laughing. He yawned, anxious to get off the phone.
"So, I'll pick you up at VRA at 1:30?" he asked.
"Um...can you pick me up earlier? Maybe we could spend some time before that." His heart jumped.
"Yeah, sure. Just call me."
"Okay...well, goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay. Bye."
"Wait, Jay?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks." Jay smiled.
"No problem, kiddo. Til tomorrow." He closed his eyes and hung up, falling asleep on the spot.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next chapter. Thanks for the reviews! You all rock hard. And as always, let me know what you think. XOXO