This is a silly two-shots, title is obviously taken from Carrie Underwood's song (very nice song, go listen if you don't know it). Also I didn't lie when I said it was teh year of crack.
Second part next week! Let me know what you thought!
Before He Cheats
Effie's high heels were not functioning properly and, since she had designed them, she blamed her best friend for it.
Not that Portia cared.
Because Portia was too busy trying to keep upright herself, clinging to Effie's arm for balance and giggling at her own clumsiness.
In a distant part of her mind, Effie knew they were being reckless wandering empty streets in short shiny dresses at this time of night, drunk out of their minds, but she had ceased to care about anything past the last three shots of tequila.
Her head was spinning, her stomach and her throat burned from all the raw alcohol and she only knew one thing and one thing only.
"Seneca's an asshole." The words slurred together as they careened into a smaller street that Portia insisted was a shortcut to the avenue where all the best clubs were.
"Preach!" her best friend aggressively agreed, pumping her fist in the air. "An asshole! All men are assholes!" She paused and made a face. "Except Cinna. Cinna's pretty sweet."
"He is." Effie nodded.
They were momentarily distracted because she misjudged her direction and since Portia was in so state to correct their trajectory, they swerved off the pavement and onto the thankfully deserted road.
Portia laughed, apparently vastly amused by the fact they didn't entirely control their limbs anymore. Effie was more troubled by the rebellion of her body but she eventually laughed along because really…
Well, if she fell down and broke something, it would just be her luck, wouldn't it? It would just be the cherry on a very, very terrible day that had started with a visit from her mother and a subsequent discovery that her boyfriend had been cheating on her – with a man, not that it was truly relevant in this day and age – and, more importantly, had used her as a buffer to hide his sexuality from his family – without making her privy of that little fact.
"I'd have played along if he'd asked me…" she muttered, following her own train of thoughts. "He didn't have to pretend to love me. That was… That wasn't nice."
"That was a douche move." Portia added, having been subjected to that particular argument several times in the last few hours.
"He could have just told me he needed a fake girlfriend." she insisted, her lips starting to wobble again. "He made me think…"
He had made her think they were serious, that he would propose and they would get married and… Her parents had actually approved the match for once. He had let her think her whole life was finally heading in the right direction and that wasn't okay.
She hadn't been in love, not really, but she had been willing to give everything to that relationship – and she had. What hurt, really, was the fact that he had played her instead of trusting her. It was humiliating to find out you were the butt of the joke instead of a willing accomplice.
"Why are we in the middle of the road?" Portia hummed, looking around her as if it was a great puzzle.
There were traffic lights lazily blinking in the distance but still no sound of car engines. It was too late, Effie figured, or too early or too something.
But still Portia had a point and they needed to get off the road and…
That was when she saw it.
Perfectly lined up with the curb.
Seneca's shiny car.
The brand new black SUV with all the expensive options – including the heated seats – that he had brought home a couple of weeks ago like a proud father. Looking at him, you would have thought he had birthed the car himself. He had been obsessed with that truck since.
Effie hated the monstrous car.
She much preferred his Lamborghini.
"Portia…" she whispered, freezing in the middle of the road, her eyes riveted to her prize.
Portia froze too, her fingers tightening on her arms, her dark eyes sweeping around the deserted street as if she expected a hoard of zombies to suddenly descend on them. "What?"
"That's Seneca's car." she told her in a hushed murmur that still carried too far.
Her friend frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Oh, yes." she hissed.
It made sense. His favorite club was around the corner. The whole point of the two of them wandering through dark streets from the little usual bar had been to go to that very club and be seen so nobody would suspect Effie was hurt by the break-up that was the latest hot piece of gossip in their social circle. It made a lot of sense. And, in her opinion, it was fate.
"But don't they have valets at the Cornucopia?" Portia insisted, confused.
"Who cares?" Effie retorted. It didn't matter why Seneca hadn't entrusted the car to valets or private parking. All that mattered was that the car was innocently sitting there without any kind of protection whatsoever.
She headed straight for the SUV, dragging Portia with her.
"What are we doing?" her best friend asked, sounding just a tiny bit anxious. Her anxiety raised a notch when Effie trailed her fake red nails along the side of the car thoughtfully… "Sweetie, black woman here. If anyone sees me next to an expensive car and calls the police…"
"I'll be quick." Effie promised, applying more pressure with her nails. It left a mark but not enough. She wanted to leave a mark. She wanted Seneca to hurt the way she was hurting. She wanted to make him angry. Payback was an ugly thing. She scratched harder but the noise made her grit her teeth and it barely peeled the immaculate black paint…
"Oh, for goodness' sake, if you're going to do this, use your keys." Portia hissed. "I'll be the lookout."
Her keys.
Yes.
That would work.
That would work really well indeed.
She selected the one to Seneca's apartment with glee, a new plan already forming in her head. Maybe once she was done shredding his car to ribbons, they could sneak into his place and… and… Toss toilet papers everywhere or something.
She ran the key from the truck's fender to mid-door, leaving a satisfying scratch in its wake.
"Hey!" a man shouted in the distance, proving, if anything, that Portia was terrible at looking out.
"You're a terrible lookout!" Effie accused because her alcohol soaked brain couldn't process too many thoughts at once.
"I'm a stylist not a criminal!" her best friend retorted.
They tried to flee as two big men ran toward them but the liquor and the heels weren't cooperating.
"Where do you think you're going?" one of the man snapped, grabbing her arm hard and swinging her around.
Portia had been clinging to her hand and it made her lose her balance so badly that she tripped and fell down. Effie shrieked, batting at the hand that was holding her, whacking the man's chest, kicking him in the shin… It prompted a groan and a curse from him.
"I have pepper spray!" Portia warned from the ground. "I'm not afraid to use it! Leave us alone!"
Even as she struggled to get free, Effie saw her best friend emptying her clutch on the road to find the promised can of pepper spray.
"Oh boy…" the second man snorted. He hadn't bothered getting closer, he was right next to the car, inspecting the damage. "Want me to call it in, buddy?"
"She keyed my fucking car, what do you think, Chaff?" the one holding her growled.
When the words penetrated her brain, Effie went limp. "What do you mean your car?"
The man gave her a firm shake but, she noticed, now that she wasn't trying to escape, he also wasn't gripping her that hard anymore. "I saw you. You're gonna tell me that ain't your keys on the ground?"
Her blue eyes darted from the very pink pompom keychain abandoned on the floor next to the car's door to the black man with bulky shoulders who was tapping on his phone.
"That's my keys but it's not your car." she argued.
Just as Portia finally found the spray can and bolted to her feet with a war cry.
Or tried to bolt to her feet.
She fell right back down with a small distressed strangled noise.
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" the second man scoffed, putting his phone back in his pocket, apparently deciding that calling the police could wait. He strode closer and Effie tried to get in between him and her friend but the other guy was still holding her tight. "Here, love. Let's pick up your shit and get you upright, alright?" He shook his head and shot the man who had her a complicated look. "They're torched."
"Doesn't mean it gives them a pass to key my fucking car." he grumbled.
"But it is not your fucking car!" Effie exclaimed with a huff. Then she winced. "I apologize for the language." That was hard to say when your tongue was heavy in your mouth and it came out a bit unintelligible. It wasn't the point anyway. "That's not your car."
The man lifted his eyebrows. "I promise you, sweetheart, that it is my fucking car."
She blinked at the pet name.
Rude, she thought.
Less rude than keying a stranger's truck though.
But it wasn't his car so the point was moot.
She glanced at Portia but it seemed the other guy was simply trying to help her put everything back in her clutch and not trying to attack her or something. Since her friend was still clutching her pepper spray can and was watching him attentively in case he made a wrong move, she turned back to the man who was so intent on arguing with her.
He had too long untrimmed washed-out blond hair, stubble ate his jaw, he had probably broken his nose once and there was a smirk hovering at the corner of his mouth despite the blatant irritation on his face. His eyes were the most striking though. They were grey. A stormy sort of grey. And once she stared straight at them, she found it a little bit hard to breathe for a second.
That was likely the tequila.
"You're mistaken." she insisted.
He let out a disbelieving scoff that could have almost passed for a snort. "Lady, I'm fucking not."
"You are very vulgar." she commented, relaxing a little now that she was fairly certain the two men didn't mean them harm. His friend had helped Portia to her feet and stepped back, both hands in the air to show he wasn't a threat once that was done. Well, not both hands. One hand and…
"Guilty as charged." the man still holding her mocked, distracting her from his friend's missing hand. "As guilty as you and that key."
"But it is not your car!" she snapped. "It is Seneca's."
"What's a Seneca?" the other man asked, burying stump and hand in his pockets.
"That's her asshole ex-boyfriend." Portia offered, finally putting the spray can back in her clutch. "He cheated on her and made a fool of her and now everyone knows he just used her so his dad didn't find out he liked guys. We hate him."
There was a moment of shocked silence from the two men and Effie couldn't quite blame them.
"Okay. Fair enough." The other man laughed. "We hate him."
"Don't humor them." the guy holding Effie grumbled.
"Oh, come on, Haymitch…" he retorted. "That kind of stuff only happens to you."
Haymitch…
It was a nice name, Effie decided, and it suited him well enough. It was manly and he looked very manly. He had a strong build, large shoulders, and his grip was firm.
"I'm sorry your boyfriend's an asshole but that ain't his car." Haymitch said, finally letting go of her arm. "And even if it was his car, you know it's a bit against the law to key it? Doesn't matter how big of an asshole he is."
"Of course, it is his car." she insisted. She looked at the car again. It was Seneca's car, wasn't it? It was the same car.
"Of course, it's not." the man taunted.
"But… But…" Effie stammered, looking at Portia for help. Her friend seemed just as lost as she felt. She was hugging herself, glancing from the car to the men, a little sobered up by the ordeal maybe. Effie would have loved to sober up, however her brain wasn't cooperating. "But… It looks like a car a guy buys to compensate for a small penis and you do not look like the sort of man who needs that."
Haymitch stared at her.
His friends erupted in guffaws again.
"Thanks." Haymitch eventually snorted, irritation completely giving to amusement. "Needed a new car. My friend picked one for me." He glanced at the other man. "Remind me to ask Finnick if he was trying to tell me something about my dick when he chose that car."
His friend shook his head, holding his belly because he was laughing too hard.
And that was when Effie spotted the undeniable proof the car wasn't, in fact, Seneca's.
"There is a flower." she whispered.
It was a small thing. A fake daisy dangling from the rear-view mirror.
He shrugged. "Yeah. One of my kids put it there for good luck."
Effie's heart was beating hard against her ribcage. She felt sick. And not quite alcohol sick.
"This isn't Seneca's car." she whispered, horrified.
"Nope." The guy shrugged again.
"This is your car." she deduced.
"So I've been telling you, sweetheart." Haymitch snorted.
"But I hurt it." Effie's lips wobbled. "I hurt your car!"
"Wow." the man said, awkwardly reaching for her arm again. "It's okay. It hasn't hurt it. It's okay. Don't…"
She burst into heavy ugly sobs.
"Oh, sweetie!" Portia exclaimed and suddenly her best friend was hugging her and crying too.
"I am so sorry!" she wailed.
"I am sorry too!" her friend sobbed. "I am even more sorry that we will go to jail and it wasn't even the right car!"
Haymitch took a step back, watching them like they were crazy.
"Well, that's a mess." the other guy commented. "But they're gonna be a hit in the drunk tank…"
"Shut up, Chaff." Haymitch grumbled with a sigh. "Help me get them off the road. Bloody fucking dangerous…"
"So rude!" she complained but she let the men shepherd her and Portia to the pavement where, admittedly, no car could accidentally hit them. Then she felt bad because there she was complaining about rudeness when she had committed a crime. "I am so sorry I hurt your car…"
"It's fine." Haymitch sighed again. "Give it another couple of weeks and it's gonna be scratched and bumped beyond repairs anyway." He exchanged an amused look with his friend. "Once Katniss gets behind the wheel…"
"That kid's a danger on the road." Chaff agreed.
"Ain't like I've got the safest job for cars anyway. So, yeah… It's okay." he insisted. "Like I said, give it a couple of weeks and you won't be able to tell it's been done by a key."
"Want me to call someone?" Chaff asked.
The question was directed at Portia and she let go of Effie to take a pleading step toward him. "Please, don't call the police. We'll pay for the damage."
"Yeah, that ship has sailed. Haven't arrested you yet, we ain't gonna do it now." Chaff sighed. "I meant someone to pick you up. We can't let you wandering out here by yourself. You're too drunk, love, it's dangerous."
Effie's lips were still wobbling and tears were still rolling down her cheeks as she glanced from her friend to the untouched side of the truck.
"Come on…" Haymitch cleared his throat and awkwardly brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. To wipe the tears off, she figured after a second. "Stop crying. Just a shitty car. Ain't worth it. Doesn't sound like your ex's worth it either."
She licked her lips when he dropped his hand, wishing he would touch her face again, wishing she could lean into his palm and…
"Cinna?" Portia asked in her phone. "We did something really bad and we need a ride… We're… We're… I'm not sure…"
Portia sounded lost and a bit scared and that was Effie's fault. If she hadn't had the genius idea of committing petty crimes…
"Here, give me." Chaff said, snatching the phone from her friend's hand. "Hi, man. No, she's fine, they're fine. They're just really wasted, we don't want to leave them like that. Yeah, no problem, we'll wait with them until you get here."
She barely listened as the man gave Cinna an address and Portia took the phone back to talk to her boyfriend some more. She vaguely registered that Cinna wanted her to stay on the phone, just in case, which was probably not a bad idea given that, for all he knew, they were with two strange men who had picked them up in the street…
Haymitch was still watching her and she found herself licking her lips again, her drunken brain choosing to forget the fact she probably looked like a melted panda.
"You have children?" she asked.
His face softened. "Yeah. Two girls. One boy." He made a small face. "Well, the boy comes with the oldest girl, really." He paused for a second and then shrugged. "They're not mine by blood but they're still mine."
That was a lot of complicated information and she wasn't sure she processed all of it. Portia was still talking to Cinna on the phone and Chaff was chiming in from time to time. She and Haymitch were standing a little to the side from them and it felt a bit like they were in their own bubble. Mostly because he was watching her with that look on his face that probably meant he wanted to see her naked. That was encouraging.
"No wife?" she asked.
His grey eyes twinkled with amusement. "Not that I'm aware."
Why couldn't he give a simple answer to a simple question? She tilted her head to the side, deciding that meant he wasn't married. "Girlfriend?"
"I don't really do girlfriends." he replied.
He didn't really… Oh. "Boyfriend?"
His eyes widened a bit and he took a step closer as if in reflex. She stepped back, leaning against his poor car. He stilled, leaving her enough space not to feel crowded.
"I'm very much into women, sweetheart." he said in a voice that wasn't quite a growl but… Oh, it hit all the right spots. It made things in her body clench with want. "Just ain't into dating."
She hadn't realized Portia's chatter had died down until her best friend spoke again. "Oh, hush, darling, we aren't about to get assaulted and this is much more interesting than talking with you on the phone…"
Haymitch shot a startled look at Portia and Chaff, as if he had completely forgotten they were there. He was distracted now but Effie wasn't. Her mind was very much on track.
"I'm cold." she declared suddenly, crossing the distance between them in two short wobbly strides – she really needed Portia to fix her heels or make them more liquor-friendly – and sneaked a hand under his open leather jacket. He sucked in a breath when her palm made contact with his chest. "Your jacket seems warm. Is there room for me in there?"
She pressed closer to him, looking straight into his eyes…
"So what?" He smirked. "You keyed my car, now you wanna steal my jacket?"
"I want you to kiss me." she stated plainly because, clearly, it would take that to make him understand.
Did she imagine him leaning in a little? There wasn't that much space between them now. She could feel his breath on her mouth and…
"If only you were a little less wasted and I was a little more drunk…" he muttered.
She pouted. "I quite know what I am doing, thank you."
"The scratch marks on my car say otherwise, sweetheart." he deadpanned, reaching out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.
"Effie." she offered, realizing belatedly that she had never introduced herself. "My name's Effie."
"Effie…" he repeated.
She shivered just then, not quite having made up the thing about being cold and, with a long suffering sigh, he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it over her shoulders. They never broke eye contact.
Effie felt…
"Is he falling in love with her?" Portia whispered.
"Bloody looks like it." Chaff snorted, sounding incredulous.
It broke the spell and Haymitch stepped back, clearing his throat.
"Fuck off." he told his friend. "I just don't want her to freeze to death."
"Right." Chaff mocked. "Real gentlemanly of you, buddy… Gives a brand new ring to protect and serve."
Cinna's sport car lined up next to them before he could say anything. Portia tossed herself at her boyfriend's neck before he was even completely out of the car, blabbering about everything that had gone wrong that night to his clear bewilderment.
Cinna surveyed the damage to the car with a wince and offered to leave Haymitch a check but Haymitch dismissed the offer with a wave of his hand.
"I think he wants the girl instead." Chaff chuckled as a very loud aside to Portia. Portia nudged him in the ribs, giggling like an idiot.
"That can be arranged." Effie purred, stepping right into Haymitch's space again.
He didn't move back but his eyes became even stormier. "Don't tempt me."
"But I am tempting you." she hummed.
"Alright." Cinna cut in, sounding a bit frightened and dazzled by the whole scene he had walked into. He grabbed Effie's arm and gently tugged her back. "I think it's sleepy time for the ladies."
"But I want to stay with Haymitch." she protested.
"And I want to have a drink with Chaff!" Portia argued, tossing her arm around Chaff's shoulders. "He's fun." She paused for a second when the man slid his shortened arm around her waist to steady her. "But no funny business. I'm in love with that one."
She pointed at Cinna.
Cinna managed a sweet loving smile that made Effie's stomach churn with jealousy.
She wanted someone to look at her like that too.
Chaff barked with laughter. "Tell you what, love, you go with your boyfriend and we can have a drink soon, yeah?"
Effie thought he was humoring her but Portia seemed satisfied with that because she let him help her into the car. Cinna shot Chaff a grateful look.
"I'm really sorry about all of this." he apologized again.
"No problem." Haymitch said. "We've seen worse, trust me."
Effie didn't understand at once she was being herded to the car and, once she did, she didn't really understand why Haymitch wasn't following. When it occurred to her, Haymitch wasn't coming with them, she twisted out of Cinna's loose grip and planted herself in front of Haymitch with a sad pout.
"Don't you want me?" she asked plaintively. Dignity could wait. She didn't have much of that left that day anyway.
He nudged her chin up and brushed his lips against hers in something that wasn't quite a kiss. Her eyelids fluttered shut. "Ask me again when you're sober."
That was all well and good but…
"Phone." she demanded, in a jerk of clear-thinking.
"Bossy." he remarked.
She didn't even bat an eyelash. "Does it turn you on?"
He slipped his phone from his back pocket, unlocked it and handed it to her. The screen was cracked. She didn't let that stop her.
She typed in her number, narrowed her eyes at the string of digits and then shoved the phone under Cinna's impatient face. "Is it right?"
"Do you really think I know your number by heart?" her friend deadpanned.
"Check the number!" Portia ordered from the car. She would have stepped out to help but Chaff gently shoved her right back into her seat.
Cinna did check the number before handing the phone back to Haymitch with another apology that was, in Effie's opinion, unnecessary.
"Call me!" she managed to shout before Cinna finally managed to get her to climb on the backseat.
She wasn't sure if Haymitch answered. The last thing she heard before the car door was slammed shut was Chaff's laughter. She twisted around when Cinna put the car in gear and saw him clap Haymitch's shoulder good-naturally.
Haymitch stared at the car as it left though and she stared right back until he disappeared when Cinna turned in an adjacent street.
She fell back on her seat with a sigh.
"Seatbelt, Effie." Cinna reminded her. "I swear, the two of you…"
He looked more amused than annoyed and, if he had been a little irritated at all, it vanished when Portia grabbed his hand and pressed a light kiss on it.
Effie struggled with her seatbelt but it was only once she was buckled in that she realized why she felt so bulky. She had never handed the leather jacket back…
She buried her nose in the collar and breathed in.
It smelt good.
He had to call to get it back, didn't he?
And then she would be soberer and she would ask the question again…
Did you figure out what Haymitch and Chaff do for a living? Is she going to ask once she soberer? XD I hope you liked this! Let me know please!
