Myr's comments: Thanks always to betta-rific Steph. Thanks again to those who have reviewed, and yes I will keep updating (just really a matter of time, lol, keep faith!). All feedback is welcome and appreciated.

Bittersweet

Chapter 3

The sensation of something gently gliding across my cheek brought me back to consciousness. It abruptly stopped when I grunted my displeasure at being awakened. I attempted to stretch and get comfortable, but suddenly became quite aware of my body as sharp pain erupted along the length of my spine, so I very slowly raised my head and straightened my back. I'm sitting. Why am I sitting. I opened my eyes to see the top of a wooden table and my stuff splayed all over it. I'm sitting outside. Oh shit, I'm still here. I looked at my watch – 4:12 AM – and cringed. The lack of music, the lack of any sound at all, indicated that the party was long over. Oh fuck.

A pair of legs walked around the table till a torso sat facing me on the opposite bench. I shifted my gaze a little higher to take in the face that would complete the whole and, somehow, wasn't surprised that it was Vince; he was, after all, the only person here that I'd met. He seemed a lot more relaxed now. "Looks like you had a party of your own out here, huh?" he said, while carefully picking up my papers and arranging them into one neat pile. I guessed he was doing it as a favor to me; I just couldn't bring myself to believe he was a compulsive neat-freak. I didn't comment back, I just kept dazedly staring, hoping he would get to the point; I was in too sore a state and too ornery a mood for inanities. He didn't keep me waiting long. "Syd left."

That statement cleared the remaining fog from my mind considerably well. "What?"

"Yeah. Said she'd be back later for her keys, but that was a few hours ago, so I wouldn't expect to see her ass till tomorrow if I were you."

"She left! How?" He gave me a look that said How else? And taking her past into account, it really was a stupid question. The answer easily came to the forefront of my mind: she got a ride with some bloke whose bones she's probably jumping as we speak. "Oh. Well I guess my key-as-insurance idea wasn't that great after all." I mostly mumbled this to myself, but I'm sure he heard every word; the fact that a smile broke over his lips was a big indication of that.

When I had made the insurance comment to Syd, I had meant it as a joke, but now I realized that some part of me had been serious. I should have been fuming, but I wasn't even mad because, though I had hoped for the contrary, I had expected her to leave me all along. Leave me here so she could spend the night with some guy who called her 'Babe' because he couldn't be bothered to learn her name for the duration of the night. I wasn't mad because I knew that she would be calling me tomorrow with a million apologies. And I would be able to hear tears in her voice when she would tell me about the previous night's happenings and how the guy had treated her that morning as though nothing had happened, making her feel like a stupid slut; used and then forgotten. She never learned, or maybe she was just a hopeless romantic looking for love in all the wrong places.

However much I wanted to, I didn't mumble or grumble as I stuffed my things in my backpack; I stayed silent while he kept sitting there watching me. As I stood up, my body screaming at me to stop moving, I asked, "Can I use the phone?"

"Yeah, in the kitchen," he answered, pointing back at the house. I shouldered my pack and made my way to the phone.

I got the operator on the line and asked for a Taxi service, "Yes, connect me please." I heard the back door close and he came to stand beside me, his eyes observing me questioningly. "Yes I need a ride from… a minute please," I put my hand on the phone's voice receiver and turned to face him, "What's the address here?" He didn't answer; he just leaned over and pushed the hang-up button with his fingers. I looked at him, my eyes clearly asking What the hell was that for?

"You have Syd's keys, girl. Why don't you just take her car to go home?"

I rolled my eyes back in my head in exasperation, although it was hardly his fault everyone asked me the same question, forcing me to repeat my practiced speech, "Because, I don't know how to drive." He looked at me with an incredulous air. "I've never needed to learn! I get driven everywhere, and everywhere I usually need to get to is also accessible through public transportation."

He smiled and shook his head from side to side in disbelief. "Come on, I'll give you a ride."

"What?" He put his hand on my back, aiming me toward the front door.

"I'm giving your pathetic non-driving ass a lift home."

"As appealing as that offer sounds, I'm gonna say no. I'll call a cab. Hell! I was calling a cab. Besides, you've been drinking."

"I only had two lousy beers, and I finished the last one a few hours ago. And just so you know, nothing affects my driving ability. Besides, baby, you think I would let you take a cab at this hour? I don't think so. Or maybe you wanna sleep over? You did look awfully comfy at the picnic table."

I contemplated what he was saying, ignoring his cockiness and sarcasm. "Okay, close your eyes, outstretch your arm, and bending at the elbow, touch your nose with your index finger." He did it, to humor me mostly, but also to convince me. "Fine. You ready?" He patted his pocket to assure himself he was in possession of his wallet and keys and nodded affirmatively. He then turned me around and, again placing his hand in the middle of my back, directed me out of the house.

Once outside, he clicked on his keys and a "beep beep" noise was heard coming from his car as the headlights flashed on and off twice. Even though I now knew which car was his, he didn't remove his hand from my back. Controlling little bastard, aren't ya? Do you think I'll suddenly change my mind and run like an escaped mental patient down the street in the opposite direction? Of course, if looked at objectively, if I had been someone else – someone completely comfortable with touch – or if he had been someone else – someone I was familiar with – then the gesture could have been perceived as gallant. But I was still me, and he was still someone I'd shared only a few words with.

He only removed his hand once we had reached the passenger door and, as he made his way around to the other side, ordered, "Get in." I got in, put my pack on the floor in between my feet and fastened the seatbelt securely. When he got in, I told him a few general directions that lead to my house, to which he just nodded as he turned on the motor and shifted gears. He also turned off the music. I don't know if it was because his ears were still ringing from having been at the party all night or if it was the influence of the calm early morning hour. Unfortunately, for me the silence was uncomfortable, so I busied myself by exploring my surroundings. The car was hi-tech; there was a multitude of little buttons on the dashboard. How…weird. The car was also immaculate; not a speck of dirt other than on the protective carpets under our feet. And though it didn't have a New Car smell, it did smell lemony, making me re-think the likelihood of his clean-freak status.

Four minutes into the quiet drive he finally spoke, "So, how did you become friends with Syd? Cause you two really don't look like you'd click." He said this while eyeing me again, this time having less to do with judgments, and more as a means of trying to reconcile my appearance with that of Syd's.

"We're childhood friends. She moved to my street, a home a few houses down from mine, when we were only two years old. We became automatic friends. Of course, us being the only children on that street sorta helped with that outcome. But you're right; we probably wouldn't click if we met now." That was the nice, polite answer, but something about him, maybe his own frankness, made me want to carry on and divulge the whole truth. "Who am I kidding! We don't click. We haven't clicked in a really long time. You know that line 'I love her, but I can't stand her'? Well that's us. The best that I can figure it is that we really suck at ignoring each other."

"Syd's hard to ignore."

"She makes it damn near impossible." He laughed, a soft throaty rumble, while nodding his head in agreement. "Take this exit." I said, pointing to the road, "It'll save us three minutes."

"So, if you've been buds for so long, then how come I've never heard of you before?" he continued, after having complied with my directive.

"I don't know. I just sum it up to your relationship not being based on vocal communication."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean? She and I aren't screwing each other if that's what you're hinting at." He wasn't angry. He didn't even seem insulted. His eyes actually held an air of playfulness.

"I know. Sorry, I didn't mean it like it sounded. I just meant that it seems like you have a friendship strongly based on appearances. You know, if you have a knock-out like Syd hanging off your arm… it can't be anything but all good, right?" Oh my god, did I just call him shallow? I hadn't meant that like it sounded either. I looked at him, hoping he wouldn't get insulted. I almost laughed at my ability to put my foot in my mouth. Watch it Talia, you're getting mighty flexible there.

"Oh, cause that is so much better." He replied teasingly, and laughed when I exaggeratingly brought my palm to cover my face in embarrassment. "How do you know she and I have never gotten it on?"

"Cause I'm the one she has the verbal communication relationship with." I smiled at my own wit. He laughed and nodded in a way that indicated he agreed it was indeed a 'good one'. "Turn left at the next light."

"Okay. So you're the one Syd's always blabbing to, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Unless she got herself another friend she hasn't told me about."

"Would that mean that you're the one she talked to all freakin' night long when she crashed over at my place two weeks ago?"

"Umm…I wouldn't really remember. I tend to be a little hazy when it comes to those conversations. The only way I really know that I talked to her at all during the night is if I wake up in the morning with the phone in my hand." He didn't seem surprised to hear this.

"So you don't remember jack about that conversation?"

"Nope, my mind's drawing a blissful blank. Turn right at the next stop, and my house is the 7th one on the right side."

"Well you know, I talked to you that night," he said this while looking at me and smiling.

"Really, we talked?" I raised my eyebrows in astonishment and couldn't help myself from responding with a smile of my own. "Are you sure I was awake?"

"Umm no, not really. You could have been asleep, but I was drunk and didn't really care. Don't worry about it though; it was mostly a joke, nothing worth remembering. Syd made me beg you for mercy. See, she was complaining that I was piss-ass drunk and not listening to her seriously enough, so instead she had to wake you up to talk. She said that you would hunt me down and hurt me because it was all my fault that she was bothering you in the middle of the night. She said that it was better to plead now than to have to grovel at your feet later." I laughed at the improbability of me ever dealing out any form of punishment on a stranger, much less a massively muscular stranger like Vince. He let my laughter die down before continuing, "So what else has she said to you? About me that is." I thought a while before answering; I knew that he wasn't looking for a simple dismissive answer to his probing question. He wanted this to be serious and informative, probably wanted it to lead to something that he couldn't bring himself to discuss privately with Syd.

"Nothing else really. Just that you and her never hitting it off that way wasn't her decision. That she was obsessed with you for the better part of a month. That when she was getting desperate for your 'physical' attention she'd planned to get you drunk. But then I broke the news to her that when guys are drunk it's really hard for Little Dickey to 'rise to the occasion'. So she changed her strategy after that."

"Changed strategy?"

"Yeah. She decided on a make-him-jealous-by-going-after-other-guys method. But it sort of backfired; she actually ended up falling for those other guys. I think it would have left you in the dusty back rooms of her heart, if you hadn't become her friend instead." Sometime during my little speech we had arrived at our destination. I looked over at my house, my parents had left the porch light on for me. I made no move to leave; I knew that I hadn't answered his unasked question, and leaving him now would only be cruel.

"Just so I'm clear, she's over me right?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

I wanted to continue this conversation; there were so many little things that I was getting curious about. But he smiled and that was my cue to leave. I grabbed my backpack and pulled the door handle, then turned back in my seat as I remembered something. "Oh! Here," I handed him Syd's keys, "She'll be going to your place since the car's still there." I had one leg out the door when curiosity finally got the better of me, and I couldn't stop myself from asking, "So what made you different from everyone else?" The confusion in his eyes made it clear that my train of thought had jumped tracks. "How come you never slept with her?"

He took a deep breath, gathered his thoughts and looked me in the eyes. I knew then that he was going to be completely honest with me, even if it tarnished his tough-guy rep. "I stopped looking at her body and actually looked at her. I'd lost the race. Girls don't usually throw themselves at you when you lose a race. So I looked her in the eye to try and figure out what she was up to. And that's when I saw she wanted more than just a good time. I wasn't interested in that, so we got drunk and hung out instead. You know, the things she does, the person she tries to be, her heart is really too big for that shit."

"Yeah, I know. She'll learn eventually, right?" He gave a hopeful smile in response. "Anyway, thanks for the ride." I got out and bid him good-bye as I closed the car door. He didn't drive off until I had safely entered my home and closed the porch light; another surprisingly gallant gesture.