Ok so here is chapter 4, coming at a decent hour, like a cousin of an insomniac post. lol, ok just a few notes about this chapter then I'll stop. I took the idea of the whole White Lines being about Tommy and used it with another song in this chapter. You'll just have to read to find out which... :o) So I used some similar dialouge from the show for that scene so you might recognize it lol! Can I just say that I am so excited for Friday's episode, even though it's the last of the season. I will for sure go through withdrawl. lol, and I was re-reading the last chapter and it was kinda dirty, lol. But that's how my mind works a lot of the time, lol, but this one isn't as dirty. lol, ok that's all and on with Chapter 4!
Disclaimer: I own nothing, really.
Chapter 4: Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go
"Come on man. You can't beat his ass for talking to Jude." Tommy shrugged him off crossly.
"They weren't talking. They were-"
"What man? Having sex?" Tommy's eyes bulged painfully at his friend who only took it as encouragement.
"Doin' the nasty? Horizontal Macarena? Getting down? Gettin' some booty call? What Tom?" Tommy held up a hand in the face of Kwest's growing smirk.
He did not want to be thinking about Jude and that kid doing anything of the sort. Besides, its not like he could get anywhere with her since Tommy had shown her the way a real man kisses. On her sixteenth birthday. Tommy berated himself, throwing around molester and pedophile to in his head. He looked up at Jude crooning her way through the chorus, oblivious to his stare. He heard her voice pushing past Kwest's glib, one-sided conversation and let it replace and fill his thoughts. He bobbed his head lightly, feeling the beat pulse through him. Despite himself, Tommy could feel himself mouthing the words along with Jude, almost ready to break into song.
Vaguely West Side Story (or at least a throw back to a That's 70's Show episode that was originally a throw back to West Side Story.)
Kwest shoved his foot against Tommy's shin from under the soundboard, kicking harder than necessary, but waking Tommy from his reverie.
"Stop it man." He nearly commanded.
"Well to quote the great philosopher, Mick Jagger, You Can't Always Get What You Want."
"Yes well I'm familiar with his theories and he also says but if you try sometimes you get what you need." Jamie cut in as he entered the room, reciting lines from a pervious House episode perfectly.
Tommy cut the tape and signaled for Jude that it was a wrap while she had already climbed off the stool to join them. He faked it away, making it seem like he was waving to SME.
"Stop quoting House. You can never be like him." I told him as I walked in the studio.
"Oh yes, but a boy can dream." Jamie said wistfully, sending us both in a fit of laughter.
"If you're House then I'm Cuddy."
"Really? I always pegged you for the harlot patients that throw themselves at Chase." Spied cut in bitingly.
(Actually the only one that ever really hit on Chase was a hermaphrodite.
((And a nine-year that coerced him to kiss her. But I'm going to disregard that because it was gross. Even though if you think about it in technical terms, it's not so different from birthday day a year ago. Just more illegal since there was tongue involved. Actually I don't know what sets the bar for legality but it doesn't matter. And I'm also going to pretend I didn't remember that because it doesn't support my point of not being equivalent to a TV whore.))
As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by… me, I was talking about that model from House who slept with her father and ended up being a boy. I remember it too.
House was all "Your son is a he."
Then the dad was all "This must be some of kind of joke."
And then House laughed his jaded laugh and said "No, a joke would be me calling you gay." That was funny.
Seriously if I could do any man on TV I would probably pick House. Except maybe not, because after we did it he might tell me that I'm dying of something. And then I would kick him out. And of course he would be naked, because this is my fantasy, in the streets of New York City and would depend on a hooker for shelter. If you're wondering how a hooker materialized, I think you should know better, but it's of course becauseour illicit rendezvous will have to take place in the Red Light District. But whatever, because then House would be ensnared into the world of pips named Mr. Sweet who would sell off to Eddie Murphy while he was in drag. And then he would be pulled into a steamy love triangle between Bennifer II and J.Lo and he would have to meditate. Then the whole ordeal would culminate in House having to sell his sperm to pay back a bottle of Body Glo that he stole from Macy's while his leash was off. It's a really good thing people can't hear me. I would be sent away.)
I looked over at him menacingly. "Spiederman's Mind Explosion. I can get Jamie to add some vocals, make it seem like you were participating." I threatened.
I don't know why he looked so scared, it's not like I would actually do that. The tabloids already claimed Spied was pregnant with Jamie's baby because apparently Spied is actually a girl and Jamie took advantage of him one drunken night. And they also said Tommy has a copy in house, and more specifically in his VCR. That's like saying he plays audio porn on an 8-track.
(And do they think we don't have brains? Well I guess Hollywood doesn't think the people of the world of brains or human reason because they thought everyone else would like Surviving Christmas. Duh it would suck, Ben was still fat and looking not-so-Pearl Harbor.)
Us Weekly also thought I had an illegitimate child with Shay. They claimed we were hiding the love baby in the French Islands, in our hide away love-bungalow.
People are stupid. Especially Spied.
His stupidity is sometimes astounding. It always shocks the hell outta me when he says stuff like "frenetic" and "precarious". (And, b-t-w I looked up frenetic and I am neither frantic nor frenzied on stage. I am just excitable and sometimes jumpy. Is it so abnormal to get totally freaked out when some weird guy flings himself on stage and kisses your feet? I think not. Especially not when he says, "I'll be waiting" like five hundred times before the bouncers can get him away. And besides, there is so a double standard. I know for a fact that 50 Cent's security guards would be all over the guy with tasers and stuff. I expected maybe a little whoop ass but all they did was rough the guy up. They didn't even kick him out! Whatever.)
Tommy shot me a look but I threw him one back that told him it wasn't anything important. "I'm just gonna wrap up the tape and get rid of your… Bill O'Reilly incident then we can go." Tommy told me as I nodded lightly, smiling at his reference. I had more pull over him than I thought.
(Normally I would have been slightly offended that I was compared to Bill O'Reilly. I mean he was just gross. And there definitely weren't any cyber blogs about me so I wasn't as nasty. And I didn't terrorize an intern or whatever the hell she was. But really who would want to sexually harass her? If I were a dude I would not try to get into her pants. She was ugly. "I said no to him and no to him and no to him and no to him and no to him and no to him and no to him!" Cue my mocking-sing-song-ridiculing-and-demeaning-voice above.)
As I walked out into the reception area I found it twistedly ironic that I saw my sister and Liam walking out together. Looking very Brangelina.
(And note that I used a celebrity couple that I despise. Angelina is a home wrecker and I effing hate her. Forever. I want to take a tire iron and hit her lips until all the Jell-O she is squirreling away in them explodes all over her hollow cheeks. And besides, I cannot condone a Ladie hook up. Hahaha, that was funny. Ladie. Like a mix between Liam and Sadie but it spells out ladie. What have I been eating?)
Can I just say gross about a thousand times over? Tommy to Liam? She totally traded down. Who can compete with a hair-gelled, brooding, sexy ex-boy bander? Uh, that would be no one.
Except maybe David Hasselhoff.
(I have a weird obsession with him. I even photo shopped this picture of him with some lady and put my head on her body. That's actually where I got the idea to go blonde.
Here's the story: I had just watched an episode of Bay Watch while I was moping about Jamie dumping me. I don't know why I was the hell in bed, but whatever.
And I was like "David Hasselhoff is a sexy man."
So I googled him and found out that he not only has an incredible amount of celebrity in Germany, he was in a show with a talking car or something. I know it was called Knight Rider. Then I found this fangirl website and it had pictures of him, and when I saw a picture of him with another woman I was outraged. I actually screamed but whatever. So I cut her head out and doctored the image in Paint and put my head on her body. But, I thought to myself: "If I want to get a guy like David, I have to be like her damn it!" And I pointed to the Barbie with my transplanted head even though no one was around me. Good thing.
She had long blonde hair and huge boobs, and I was still pissed and irrational about Jamie so I googled breast implants only because I was on a sleep-deprived high. Even though it hadn't been my first experience, (I accidentally went on Kyle's laptop on tour and I don't really look at him the same) when I got these nasty site results, I almost cried. So then I was like Oh what the hell? Sadie's blonde. That should have been my red flag, right there.
If I am trying to emulate Sadie in any way I should put in a straight jacket and taken to Anne Heche's house and be forced to listen to the psycho babble of a crazy woman who simultaneously plugs her Lifetime movies and tells me how to go lesbian and back. Only then I will be restored with my senses, give Anne a long blonde wig, tell her
A. to never ask for a pageboy bob at the solon ever again
B. to go apologize to Ellen and send her and the lady from Arrested Development a salad spinner signed by Emril in celebration of their civil union and
C. that God never spoke to her in middle of the desert and that she really didn't need to ever take her top off again. And then not go and dye my hair beach blonde.
But I didn't have that luxury and went straight for the kill. I kinda think that this hair thing was more for Tom than for me. Which in itself is alarming. I mean, Tommy thinks that Star Jones is sexy. He told me so. I was faking sick one time and I made him sit with me on a couch at G-Major in Hospitality and watch The View. I started a would-you-rather and he picked Star over that skinny girl from Survivor because he said, "Star Jones is a sexy, sexy lady." But I will never sink that low.
Wait…
Maybe who was Kwest who said that?
I need to realign myself and gather my thoughts. I think there's something wrong with me. It's like the mental ramblings of a crazy person. It won't be long until I'm on Oprah preaching about my religion and jumping up and down on the couch, screaming about how much I love my fiancé. But since I don't have one, I yell and scream about how much I love my dog. But inevitably the ASPCA will be informed and things will get ugly. So it's better to right myself to prevent my life from spiraling out of control. Note the sarcasm.)
I screamed loudly as Jamie pummeled me from behind, knocking us both to the floor. What a butt head.
"What's your damage?"
"Oh, nothing. Just a certain under age blonde singer and her producer with pedophilic tendencies." I looked at him sharply.
"I'm pretty sure that Eden is over 18 but I don't think Chaz would ever hit that. He might catch something." I told him, trying to joke away his accusations.
"Spied came to me with some lady troubles today." He told me as he tired to be suave. HA! Excuse my while I laugh!
Wait a minute.
Vincent Spiederman, groupie magnet was asking Jamie Andrews emo-extraordinaire for girl advise? The world must be rotating off its axis.
And soon Kofi Annan and Paris Hilton will switch personalities and we'll see Kofi pole dancing while Paris warns the world to cut back on oil consumption or whatever he does since the US invaded Iraq. I think I'm going to faint.
"But… Nana gave us the talk before the tour. I think she made everything pretty clear." I sputtered. I just didn't like the idea that two of my exes were conferring about me. This might be worse than when Meredith found out Derek was married. Well maybe not.
"She is pretty thorough, what with the pie charts and diagrams. But it wasn't about that." He told me with a light shudder. I can relate.
When Nana tries to make sock puppets look like rapists and European muggers, no one is safe.
I looked at him incredulously. "It was about you." He told me in a very Cher-Horowitz manner. I was about to ask him if he was going shopping with Dionne later but Pasty called him from Studio 2.
"Hey Jimmy! Come unblock my system. I need to let my juices flow." She growled, setting images in my mind that I did not need. Ever.
Yuck. Jastie sex. Ew. Jamie scampered off and as soon as she grabbed a hold of him, and slammed the door with a leather-Caveman Days-inspired club, I knew I would not be seeing Jamie for a long, long time. Gross. Again. And where did she get that club!
I turned around at the sound of the studio door opening and closing and saw Wally approaching me. "Hey Marky-Mark." (That's my nickname for him. It actually does stem from his name somewhat:
Wally sounds like…
wall. Wall…berg.
Reminds me of famous actor…
Mark Wallberg who was a…
rapper in…
Marky-Mark and the Funky Bunch.
It's like my screwed up version of 6 degrees of Separation. My mind works in astounding ways.) He laughed lightly and wrapped an arm around me, leading me to the couch. This was already weird. Wally was super hands-off with me. His girlfriend, Kirby, has a regimentally strict no-touch policy concerning Wally and 'that little closet skank, Jude.' People think I'm deaf. I'm not. But people are stupid.
He sat us down on the couch where Spied and I had broken up on this morning.
Everything got weirder as Wally scooted closer to me. God I wish I were Bubble-Boy so I could have an excuse to move away from him. He wouldn't put my life in danger if he thought I had no immune system…
"Jude" he started almost nervously. Ok, if he is asking me what I think he is asking me I'm going to flip. I will never date him. And I will never be his friend with benefits. He already asked me on tour like fifty times in his sleep. It was funny then. Not so much now.
"I heard about you and Spied. And I just want to say… I know why."
What? "Um, why what Wally?"
"Jude I know, why."
This was all too Friends for me. He was being clueless and stupid like Ross. Stupid asses.
"Oh… Wally." I started ruefully. This was not funny. "Spied and I, we broke up uh… because we just want different things." I stumbled. Irreconcilable differences, party of four… And I'll be damned if Renee and Kenny get to the judge before us!
Wally silenced me with a hush and put his fingers on my lips. This was really weird. "Don't speak." He said in a rushed whisper, removed his fingers and smashed his lips onto mine.
Oh my God, this is not, not, not happening to me.
Why was I being punished! Too many Tom Cruise jokes? I promise I'll stop to whoever is controlling this.
I was about to shove Wally off of me when I heard rancorous laughing coming from near the studio door. There had to be something I was missing if anyone thinks this is funny. Because it wasn't and I was ready to pull someone's teeth out of their head. I felt Wally pull away from abruptly, thrashing his hands though the air and giving a Hang 10 hand gesture behind him. No one surfs here. I turned around to see Spied, Wally and Kwest come out from behind an enormous plant.
What the hell?
Kyle came over giving Wally a gruff high-five while Spied followed, laughing like a monkey. Kwest came over with a good-natured laugh but grudgingly handing Wally four paper bills.
No really, what the hell?
Spied was still doubled over with laughter but managed to gasp "Oh my God dude. That was so funny. You should have seen your face." He said loudly and pointed to me. I looked around the group of the four, asking what was going on.
"Harmless bet." Kwest said with a small shrug and a laugh. Harmless my ass. This was Spied's idea and I'm so going to get him back. But he doesn't need to know that.
I laughed along with them, assuring Wally that: 'no, really, you got me.'
And stroking Spied's ego with: 'even better than on tour. Really, really funny.' Tommy walked out and I nearly sighed in relief and ran over to him, waving goodbye to the others.
"Bye you gu-"
"No, don't speak!" Spied yelled after me with a loud laugh. Ha ha ha.
I made a mad dash for the car, faintly aware that Tommy was right behind me. When I approached the Cobra I realized the top was up and I couldn't help but wonder if Tommy checked the weather obsessively for the sake of his cars. What a weirdo. I flung the passenger's door open, jumping with a loud huff. Tommy joined me seconds later, and shook the rain from his hair. He looked like a Calvin Klein model. Irene Marie should be coming up north for him.
I watched him closely, not realizing I started to start shamelessly. But seriously I could make out all the contours of his body. His shirt was soaked through and clung to him harder than Paris should clutch her T-Mobile, emphasizing his muscular arms and perfected abdomen. He cleared his throat subtle, bringing me back to reality and spun his key around inside the ignition giving a smile when the car purred underneath us. If he calls it she I will throw up all over her just to spite him. And her. And I'll name it Bertha. And call it Big Bertha. He'll get mad, and I'll laugh. I heard myself snort out loud as it mingled with the heater and wet air from outside and swirled around us. See I was already laughing about it. The rain pattered steadily against the car loudly, almost painfully. It seemed like all of Toronto had been at the mercy of that X-men. Well she was a girl, so… X-Women? Halley Berry played her in the movie… I really wanna say Storm but I think that's comin' outta my ass.
I looked out the window, watching the raindrops race each other to sill where they disappeared. I watched someone of them fly solo while other raindrops rolled into one another, forming a big ball of rain. It was fun, and I felt like I was wrapped in a wet …blanket. But not in a bad way.
(Not like one of the triplets from My Super Sweet Sixteen and they all called her the 'wet blanket', even though I would just call her a prude and tell her not to wear a Vegas Showgirl getup thing ever, ever again. Bad bad move.)
"Ready?" He asked me with a shrug to secure his jacket over his shoulders.
"Yep." I told him as he held the back of my headrest, looking between the seats as he backed out.
"What time is it?" I asked suddenly remembering McDreamy. I watched Tommy lean forward slightly to look at the dashboard where the clock was.
"9:50" he told me. "Why?" I looked at him blankly for a moment, ready to ask why he couldn't remember when I had told him in morning when he inhaled. "Right… McDreamy." He said with slight disdain.
"When I become famous enough, I'll find Patrick Dempsey and I will tell him about your irrational dislike of him." I informed Tommy on a laugh. "Girl, you already are famous enough. And what I say? My girl seems to like him better than me." He said seriously. Way to kill the mood. In a good way. In the best way.
I looked over at him as I realized he was parking in my driveway. Our eyes locked for a moment and I felt a sharp twinge shot through my system, stemming to my toes. I felt my face heat and blush in spite of myself.
God I'm like my history teacher, who always has an inexplicably red face. And his sorta bald, so his scalp is red too; and so is his stubby little neck. At that visual I quickly calmed myself and looked away. I really didn't want to leave. I really wanted to stay with Tommy, even if we were only talking.
"So... how do ya like my new song?"
"Hm? White Lines?" I nodded with a small yes. He looked at me seriously for a moment before a smile swept across his face. He leaned in close to me, barely an inch away from my face. I was physically restraining myself from closing the distance and have my wicked way with him, in his car. He inhaled, making my knuckles go white from grasping the door's handle so tightly.
"I love it." He told me softly. He leaned away slowly but I slumped back quickly with a small huff.
"Well good." I told him cheerfully.
"Sooo. I better go." I pointed both my thumbs towards the car door. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy anyone? (
Mostly stories with hitchhikers don't end well. Except for the time on Friend's when Phoebe picked up a nice hitchhiker and they played the games that Joey wouldn't because he was asleep. But I think the only reason her hitchhiker was nice was because there was that plastic window thing separating the front and the back since it was her Grandma's old cab. Wait… didn't she like have her ashes in there or something? God I love that show.)
I heard Tommy grunt softly in response and unlocked the doors for me. I wouldn't meet his gaze but I could feel his eyes on me. I ran through the rain to my front door to find a note.
Mom's out with Don. Liam istaking me to dinner. Talking business expense account.
C u l8r- Sades
She added an irritating little winking face after account like I didn't get what she really meant. My skull is not that thick. Why not just sign in Sexy Sadie and be done with it? I'll bet he was taking her to a business dinner. With his only business being trying to get in my sister's pants. But Sadie is smarter than that. I hope.
I fished around my pockets looking for my key and realized it was sitting on the table on the other side of the door. The warm, dry side of my door. DAMN IT! I rushed back to the Cobra (it doesn't have that nice ring like The Viper did. I miss that car.)
"I'm locked out." I said loudly as I puffed out a huge breath of air after Tommy let me back in the car. He sat silent for a moment, contemplating something. I was sonot going back to his place. There were probably shrines to the glory days of Boyz Attack and Kelly Ripa. Can anyone say One Hour Photo? That was a side of Tommy I would never need or want to see. But there were other parts, though, that I wouldn't mind exploring at all. Ok, I probably shouldn't be thinking about that right now. Well, never.
"Come on." He said with at glance at me. I saw a twinkle in his eye that made my stomach flutter. He rushed to my door while I trailed behind closely.
The awning didn't reach very far so I huddled close to him, away from the rain. He materialized a pocketknife from his leather jacket, startling me mildly. He's like It and Patch Adams rolled into one hair-gelled ex-boy bander. My lights should have been blaring along with my inner sirens but I watched in fascination as he jiggled the knife through the key slot and opened the door with ease.
"After you, Miss Harrison." He said cordially, as I grudgingly let go of him and walked through my doorway. I let my bag drop forcefully as I inhaled the familiar scent of my home. I looked over at Tommy, who stared back at me plainly.
"Are you alone?" He asked, his voice thick with concern.
"Yea. But no one's gonna pull a Sara Michelle Gellar and go all I Know What You Did Last Summer on me. Don't worry." I said.
Tommy shook his head, obviously opposed to the idea. Why? It's not like I was gonna put my finger in an electrical socket or something. I know how to stay alive. I huffed as if it really bothered me that he was staying. But in reality it felt nice to have some around. Especially Tommy. He looked down at his watch.
"Don't wanna miss McVomit." He told me on a laugh. I was about to give him a sour look when I realized he was right and raced for the TV. But my foot caught on the rug, causing me to fly in the air like a blond Good Year Blimp.
Or one of those cool Nickelodeon blimps they give out at those awards. I would be eternally happy and retire if I got one of those, and I would demand that they slime me. Maybe that's why I haven't been put out for those awards. Whatever.
Grey's Anatomy came and went without anyone getting it on. Well not officially but Meredith and McVet looked cozy. I was thoroughly disappointed. I flipped to the HBO channels as The Sopranos played in front of us. I let the remote fall, needing to catch up on my Mafia Blues, but the screen went black as scenes changed.
I was hoping they would cut to Uncle Junior who recently went off the deep end but it really did not; it cut to some gross old people sex. And let me tell you Tony may be fat and old be he is springy. Poor Carmela, she probably can't even breathe with all that girth on top of her. The speakers emitted a long, loud, breathy moan; instantly making me blush and change the channel. Maybe she didn't mind.
I heard Tommy snicker but I wouldn't look in his direction. I would die. I squealed in delight as I found Zoolander on the next channel. Tommy groaned next to me.
"You can not be dissing Zoolander. You just can't."
"Yes I can. Listen. I hate Zoolander." He told me.
"You can't hate this! It's the best thing ever produced from Hollywood. It has Ben Stiller. It has Owen Wilson! I love Owen. I mean for God's sake it has the old father from King of Queens." Tommy looked at me, smirking snidely.
"Ok. So maybe I haven't seen it." He confessed.
My jaw dropped. Was that even possible? How can anyone not have seen Zoolander? It should be an international law! Everyone must see Zoolander or they get kicked off the planet! "We are so watching this."
A half an hour later, Tommy was sitting on the couch tittering with laughter as I stood in front of him singing Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go at the top of my lungs while a Jetta commercial played behind us. I stopped mid crescendo with a piece of popcorn in my mouth to turn around to watch the rest of the commercial.
I felt myself gasp loudly as a car of double-daters got smashed from the side. As the scene flashed to the one lady going "Holy-" I realized I sorta couldn't breath. I tried to cough the kernel free from my throat but I couldn't. Tommy was looking at me really funny, asking me if I was ok. Does it look like I'm ok? Well I guess I don't really know. I started to grasp for air, feeling extremely lightheaded and on the cusp of passing out.
Damn it, what's the international sign for Help-me-you-shit-face!-I'm-chocking? I tried to mouth to Tommy that I couldn't breath but he looked like he was watching a Muzzy tape for Russian.
I fell onto my knees as I felt them give out, and clutched the table for support, trying to dislodge the damn thing on my own. When I knelt, trying to extricate the popcorn in vain, I swear I saw a white light. Don't worry Ringo, I'll tell George how much you love him!
I was convinced I was going to die right then but I guess it finally registered in Tommy's head that I was chocking because the next thing I knew he was behind me, thrusting his clenched fists into my abdomen as his body shook with mine. Oooo, dirty.
After a moment I watched the kernel shot from my mouth and disgustedly place itself complacently on the floor. That thing is staring at me. I wheezed for a minute, trying to refill my lungs and feed my brain. After a few raspy gasps I felt my light head deflating and the rest of my body gain some sensation. Holy crap-on-toast that was scary. I thought I was going to die. I spun around and saw Tommy staring at me, wide-eyed with utter concern and shock.
"Are you ok?" He barely let his words escape. I nodded lightly, and then wrapped my arms around him lovingly. He literally just saved my life. I inhaled, vowing to never take one single breath for granted. And if I get the chance to sit out or dance… I'll dance. And I'll still feel small when I stand by the ocean... Ok I need to stop quote Lee Ann Womack. It's scaring me.
I felt all of Tommy invading my senses, I guess this how it feels when you're possessed. What the hell was wrong with Linda Blair? It feels nice, and safe. And warm. But I guess Tommy isn't Lucifer. I felt myself loosing control and all I wanted to do was jump Tommy's bones. I also felt my childhood slipping away from me as I realized this was why Prince Charming always saves the damsel in distress. He's just lookin' to get laid. What a dog.
I pulled away before I lost all the feeling in my brain stem and all ability to reason. "Thanks." I murmured in his ear. I released a small breath of air that I didn't know I was holding, feeling Tommy tense in my arms. I ruefully broke our embrace and shrugging off the incident as Ben Stiller came back. Tommy looked at me for a moment, checking that I was all right and regained his seat on the couch.
I looked over at him and then at the cushion next to him, hearing it call my name. 'Jude Harrison-Quincy… Jude Quincy-Harrison… Little Jude Q…' I need to stop the insanity. I think chronic insanity has finally set in. I am crazy. I am insane in the membrane. I got no brain. No really, my screws are loose.
I looked at Tommy who seemed utterly riveted in the Zoolander vs. Hansel walkoff. I watched turn towards me, his eyes still glazed with anxiety. He held out his arm, beckoning for me to join him.
You read my mind Mr. Quincy. I crawled across the area rug to sit with him, slithering up the leather, feeling the soft material against my bare feet and Tommy's arm coming around me, enclosing me in a soft embrace. I could get used to this. I felt Tommy rumble with laughter underneath me as Han-suck pulled his underwear out of his leather pants. I joined in even though I had seen this more than hundred times.
The movie ticked by, at the end I heard Tommy's satisfied sigh a laugh still in his eyes. I was afraid he was going to leave. I waited apprehensively for a few minutes, but he made no move to. He didn't even slap his hands on his thighs expectantly like the guys always do on TV. Paul Newman flashed in front of my eyes as the sexified host announced the next movie. Blah, I've seen that too many times for my own sanity. Which is apparently slipping away like sands through the hourglass, and so are the Days of Our Lives.
"You can not just turn off The Sting. It's bad karma. And it's mean." Tommy told me, using my previous words.
"Yes I can. Watch." I mocked his words in turn and flipped to another channel.
A half hour later...
"Yea, no mom. Mom." I stopped and waited for her to stop and listen.
"I'm fine." I listened for a few moments to her exasperated sigh. She asked if I was still alone. I hesitated, I knew she meant Sadie but I didn't want to lie to her.
"Um, no." I said vaguely. My mom breathed a small sigh of relief.
"Look, I'll be home in a few days. Till then, just go to school. And be good." I was about to protest loudly but I heard the dial tone cut the other end.
Ugh. I wandered back to my room, reeling that I had to go back to school. I already had a few Fast Times at Ridge Mont High comebacks for my stupid teachers and everything. I was thoroughly disappointed and flopped onto my bed with a sigh. I faintly noted Tommy's presence but it became abundantly clear with the mattress depressed next to me and I looked over and saw him staring back at me.
He lips formed a w but I told him before he could ask.
"My mom."
I saw him nod as his lips formed anther w but I stopped him again.
"To see if I was ok."
He nodded again and looked up at my ceiling. I saw him reach underneath his back, panicking me because I thought he was gonna pull a fast, slightly kinky one on me. But he revealed a familiar leather bound notebook that I recognized as my tour notebook. I normally would have gasped and made him think I was offended and he betrayed my personal space or whatever, but I let it go.
He flipped a few pages and showed me a page with doodled hearts adorning the title. There's Us. Ok, now he was gonna get it. If they thought the Sex and the City women were bitchy, they had no idea. I snatched it forcefully and threw the notebook across the room. I opened my mouth to ream him out when he held up and hand and stalked across the room towards the dejected object.
He bent down to pick it up and flipped to the song again. Was he stupid? Did that whole throwing it not process through his brain to tell him that I didn't want him to read it? God, he must be seriously more stupid than I thought.
"Leave it Quincy." I said, sounding mean to my own ears. But he didn't flinch; he kept staring at the lyrics.
He sat down, to face me; in my purple-Scooby Do blowup chair that I got with I was nine.
It sagged and shrieked, "RUT ROOOOW!" loudly, as the mechanical tinkering filled the still air in the room. Every time he shifted,
Scooby reminded us that he wanted a "SCROOBY SNRACK!" or that he "SRAW A MONSTER!"
As Scooby shouted finally that he "SHARGGY ARE HURNGRY!" I pursued Tommy and gripped the notebook tightly.
With his eyes still focused on my lyrics he tugged back and I found myself grunting in frustration. Why was he being such a butt? "Let it go, Quincy!" I groaned. He looked up at me and saw my struggle. He started to smile and it made me want to smack him so silly that his hair gel ran scared.
"Sing it." He asked me. I felt my grip loosen and slack completely as I stared at him. Everything in me told me not to.
(I wonder if this was how Tori Spelling felt with the Vh1 executives about her show. I know my life wouldn't be half as fun to document. I mean I never go in sex shops. And if I ever saw Shannon Doherty I would ask her for Rick's autograph. Well then she would probably scratch the hair from my skull and write in lipstick on my car. But since I don't have a car she would write on Tommy's car. And in that instance I don't think he would refrain from hitting a girl. But I don't think Shannon is a female. She's more like a raving lunatic that needs to be put in a separate class for the safety of humanity. I mean even Yelling-Tyra-Banks is like "wow, bitch, calm down." Cue Z-snap here.)
And despite every thought that ran through my brain I threw open my closet and fished out my oldest guitar. It was my dad's. And I won't go all weepy. Cause it's not a weepy story. It's gross, but I'll tell you anyways.
It was a hot summer day and my parents had just met. To make a long and terrifyingly graphic story less in both aspects my dad serenaded my mom and then she deflowered him next to the guitar.
Yuck.
I am going to die.
But I love this guitar.
I started a slow riff and picked up my tempo as I decided to skip the verse and go to the prelude to the chorus. "If I was stupid
Maybe careless
So are you" I held the last word, letting it shimmer to Tommy.
"Not everything is supposed to come true
Some words are best unsaid
My word gloated over to him as he was about to get up. But when Scooby started the beginnings of a horrible demand he stayed completely still in a half sitting, half getting up position. I could make a Jack Black inspired joke but I'll refrain. This was a little on the serious side.
Some love is not really love at all
I'll keep everything I shared with you
And that's enough
There's us" I held us like I had held out you previously but up an octave. I was afraid I wouldn't hit it and it would be this ugly sound. But despite my shaky voice it came out perfectly and lured Tommy farther and farther.
I stopped and let the chords die away. I flipped my hair in a Barbie-ish manner. And reminding myself slightly of Portia. Sadie would be proud; Pasty would smash a beer bottle against my head and then tag my rotting corpse.
"Girl, this, needs to be on your album." He told me.
I shook my head; that was the last thing I would ever want. I didn't write this for anyone to hear. I wrote it so that I could tuck away that part of me and keep away from the rest of me. I wrote it and hid it away so that I could never find that part of me again. So that Tommy could never find it. So that Tommy couldn't have my heart.
"Why?" he asked desperately in whisper. I just shrugged in response but he wouldn't let it go.
He was starting to remind me of a basset hound I saw on the fishing channel once. The dog found this fish and wouldn't let it go and bit into it and like ate it. Tommy was a sexy basset hound, but still a basset hound. I'd be damned if I let him eat me.
OH MY GOD, I didn't just say that. No I never thought that in my life. That was just a blank moment in time where thoughts never passed through my head. Nope, nothing.
"Come on" he pleaded. No means no Tommy.
I shook my hand in response "But why not?" he pleaded again. My temperature was starting rise and I was starting to get tired of him not dropping this thing.
(And I was not referring to that stupid Jamaican song. That stupid man wasn't even speaking English. He was just saying sexy, warm, girl, and the right temp'a'ture in no particular order. And stupid people started to dance like skanks and man-whores to it in the clubs and suddenly he's a celebrity. Suddenly he's an artist. He just a stupid, braided boy with a bad accent.)
I was about to crack. "I just don't want to."
"Jude you gotta give me a better reason than because."
Snap, crackle, pop.
"Because it's about you! Ok? Happy?" I squeaked while I crossed my arms over my chest on happy.
He better not say yes. I watched my words circle around us like Tobey McGuire on those rooftops. But I wanted to snatch my words and stuff them right back into my mouth. I didn't want Tommy to know. I didn't want to admit it. DAMN HIM and his sneaky, cunning ways.
"Yea. There is it. There's us." I told him.
The room darkened as thunder clapped outside and shook us. I felt him close to me, his breath hot on my face. I looked up trying to find his eyes in the dark. His blue orbs shone brilliantly before I closed my eyes as I felt his lips press against mine. I fervently kissed him back, feeling him wrap his arms around my waist and pulling me closer. I felt my hands snake up his back and let my hands rest in his hair.
His lips pushed harder onto mine, with more desire and tender demand. I met his zeal, nipping at his lower lip playfully as he groaned and recaptured mine again. I felt his tongue gently against my lips as he kissed me more passionately, more wanting. I parted my lips lightly and felt his tongue snake past my teeth. I grasped his lips more firmly as the intensity heightened.
With my nerves on edge I felt every swift brush and small twist. We broke apart suddenly when it became apparent that the thunder had stopped growling outside and that the dull thuds were coming from the front door. I stood there for a minute, staring at him in amazement.
I opened my mouth remembering the whole forget it ever happened bullshit from my birthday but Tommy cut me off. He crushed his lips onto mine again, silencing my voice. Silencing my thoughts. I felt my mind go blank as I sneaked my tongue past his lips, feeling their softness while my knees buckled.
The storm raged outside but compared to Tommy and I, it sounded like Goldie Locks shedding teeny, tiny tears. I felt his hands slide down my back, creeping farther and farther towards my Southern border. But I am all for illegal immigration. Seriously illegal. I pulled away as a small moan escaped my own lips as I watched him smile coyly down at me.
"I better go let her in."
I looked back at him for moment as he straightened up, stretching his arms high above his head. All I really wanted to do was go back and re-enact the last scene from Never Been Kissed. Tommy nodded his head numbly, slumping back frozenly and reminding me of a sexy Hunchback. I shook myself of my Michael Vartan thoughts but I realized that if Sadie hadn't been at the door I might have let him ring my bell. Ok that was gross. I shouldn't word things that way but I'm perpetually in a gutter.
But I like my gutter. We get along. I've decorated it with flowers and Kurt Cobain posters. And I sprayed Febreeze so you can barely smell the Spiederman influence anymore. It's that fresh.
Ahhh, the Juderman era... That was a sad time for my gutter and I; Spied really put a lot of strain on our relationship. He was too possessive and didn't realize I thought dirty way before him and would continue to.
I crawled down the stairs wondering why the hell I hadn't turned on any lights. I was wobbling like a baby gazelle, attaching myself to the railing like I was Nicole Richie and the banister was my enormous bug-sun glasses. Does she realize it looks like some aliens beamed down and sucked up her face and gave her those sunglasses to cover it up? Yes, it is quite attractive.
Another loud bang set my nerves spiraling out of control as I slipped and smashed my butt on hard wood. I sighed and looked up to heaven.
Why was God doing this to me?
Was this about the sexy Devil from Joan of Arcadia?
I'm really sorry about that.
If it's any consolation I thought that Jack Nicholson as the Devil in The Witches of Eastwick was ugly as butt.
A strike of lightening illuminated the staircase for a moment, followed by a clap of thunder outside. I guess the Trinity was feelin' my apology. Maybe I was asking for this, like I had it coming. Talk about Cry Wolf, God. Except not really, I was just thinking about that movie.
But as I thought more about Cry Wolf, and how that guy looked like Spinner from Degrassi, I realized it might not have been Sadie at the door. I let out a shivering scream thinking it could be Emily Rose or something. I heard Tommy's thundering footsteps as he joined me halfway down the stairs.
"What's wrong?" He asked with concern in his voice.
"Um, nothing." I stuttered, as I pushed forward towards the door. Sadie pounded against the door with substantial force making me jump and cling forcefully to Tommy. Oh God, I was scared but I knew it was Sadie because she started yelling at me. Whore. I was trying to let her in, she should not be yelling at me. Hadn't anyone ever told her not to shit where she eats? I mean we had the same parents; you would think she would know this too. Whatever.
"I'm coming!" I screamed back at her sailor-like curses from within Tommy's arms.
He looked down at me and laughed lightly while he shook his head. I finally reached the door and undid the deadbolt and swung the door open.
"Well color him young John Travolta. You look like Carrie." I told my sister who just glowered in response.
20 minutes later...
We settled in front of the TV, a Conan O'Brien rerun playing in front of us. I love his dancing. Looking past the risk of vomit, I'll quote Jerry McGuire. Conan completes me. I think I'll pick up sign language just to learn how to tell him.
I watched Sadie staring Tommy down as he pretended not to notice. He laughed a little too loudly at a joke Conan made.
"That wasn't a joke, Tommy." I informed him with caution. I did not want to see him burst.
"Tommy likes to betray people like that." Sadie said dangerously to me while she was still looking at Tommy.
"That doesn't even make sense, Sadie." Tommy sneered at her from across the room.
"Am I being Punk'd or what?" I said loudly. Tommy looked at him quizzically.
"Do you watch TV?" Sadie asked rhetorically and followed it up with a nice little burn. "Oh wait, I forgot. You're too busy screwing models for anything else." Ouch.
"No really. ASHTON? Where are you Ashton?" I shouted.
I was reminding myself of Anna Farris in Just Friends. It's only a matter of time before I start eating Aqufresh out of the bottle and enticing married couples in threesomes. Gross. Tommy and Sadie didn't seem to notice me and kept going at it like Joan Rivers and Brigitte Nelson. But I really do not think the C-word will be batted about. At all.
Hmmm, fight of flight? lol, anyway that's all for chapter 4, I'm planning on Craig being in the next one. But I want to thank thatgirlyoucanttrust ((my family does think I'm crazy. When I was trying to think of a girlified name for Spiederman, I screamed Spiederma really loudly. But they're used to me, lol)), Duddley111 ((That was a really sexual chapter, lol, but it was quite an M, lol. And so we're my little sneaks but that's how I work. I entice people with sex. Ok that was weird, disregard me please lol)), Tommy4eva ((no seriously, Tommy for ever and ever and ever. lol, I love your handle and that is my new motto. Tommy 4 eva! But I'm so glad you liked it!)), VilandraofAntar ((I totally did not know Amy wasn't with the show anymore. I am sad, she seemed really cool! I can not wait for the season finale tomorrow, I have a feeling of a Chris/Loreli hook up... sneaky sneak! lol And I hope the Jommy action filled your quota, I could have more on the way if you like... lol!)) and tommys21 ((I still really can't decide what I want to do with them yet, lol so I just let that part out))
Here's a little sneak at next time:
-a little white pill (and not, it's not drugs, drugs lol)
-Joode goes back to school for a fleeting moment
-Damage control with a lip lock?
There you have it, lol! Please review and the faster I'll get chapter 5!
