Mako's Message: Well...that happened.
Kick-Ass 2
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I liked it! -pounds table- ANOTHER!
No seriously. Kick-Ass 3 needs to happen.
I'll be posting a review in the forums, in case some of you want to know what I really think of it(and I know at least some of you do), in the next 24 hours.
Anyway, this chapter...
First, if you're new to this story because of Kick-Ass 2, thank you for liking it enough to get this far. I realize it's gone so far off the rails it's a car...no, a boat, but you stuck with me through my own ever expanding universe and I thank you for reading and hope you continue to enjoy this story.
Second, this chapter gave me want to rip my hair out, but I think you'll all be pleased with the results
Third... ya know what? I've decided I don't have a third. Enjoy the fic!
Train, school, practice, homework, patrol, sleep.
Train, school, practice, homework, patrol, sleep.
Train, school, practice, homework, patrol, sleep.
That's all my life has been these last few days.
Train, school, practice, homework, patrol, sleep.
It's fucking nuts. With finals and the cheerleading competition coming up, I've barely been getting enough sleep. I'm almost completely wiped out. It's not as bad as when I first put the costume back on, but it's damn close. At least I'm not falling asleep in class this time. I almost hate to admit it, but Dave knew what he was talking about when he insisted we take days off. They're the only thing that's been getting me through the past few days.
But before I get into all that I have to finish telling about my Birthday weekend, because that was just too much epic fail to leave it hanging like that. I didn't even realize how messed up I was until I went back to look at it a couple days later. For example, once my head was clear I discovered that I could read the entry from my Birthday.
Well, parts of it at least.
Anyway,
I did end up going back to sleep, but I was woken up by a text from Dave saying, "What's going on? Are you okay?"
So I called him back and said, "Dave? We're hung over. Can you come get us?" And there was a long pause and then he said he'd be over soon.
So I went to drag Angela out of bed, but she refused to get up. Even when I ripped the covers off her she just grabbed them back and wrapped herself up tighter. I had to show her the picture I took of her passed out drunk, with her ass up in the air like an invitation, and threaten to send it to every boy in school to get her to move. But all she did was take her blanket and curl up in a chair.
Her bed fucking reeked too. It was like she was sweating alcohol. So I took them and tossed them in the laundry and then made Angela go wait downstairs for Dave while I put new sheets on her bed.
When I heard Dave pull up I went and grabbed a pair of Angela's sunglasses since just looking outside was making my eyes hurt. Before Dave had even gotten to the door Angela ran out to the car still wrapped in her blanket. Dave just watched as she pulled the door open and then flopped into the back seat. Then he came up to where I was leaning on the door frame and said, "How're you doing?"
I said, "Been better."
Then he said, "Yeah, well, let's get out of here before the neighbors notice."
I held out my arms and said, "Carry me."
And he just looked at me and said, "Seriously?"
He wouldn't carry me, but he did help me out to the car because even with the sunglasses I was two busy burying my face in his chest to watch where I was going.
When we got to his house he helped me in first, and took me into the living room where he let me collapse on the couch before going back to get Angela.
While I was busy curling up into a ball on the couch and trying to block out the pain because the ride over just made everything start hurting again, I heard footsteps coming up to me and then his Dad said, "Mindy?"
And I just kinda groaned out, "Hi, Mr. L."
And he said, "Are you okay?"
I started to say I was fine, but for some reason I couldn't, so I just said, "No."
And that's when Dave came back in with Angela. His Dad called out to him, but he said, "In a minute," and helped Angela upstairs, where he took the blanket from her, made her get in the shower and told her to borrow some of the clothes I have here for our all-too-infrequent sleepovers and rest in his bed.
When he came back down, his Dad took him into the kitchen and they started talking. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but from the tone of their voices Mr. L wasn't happy. A while later, sometime after I heard the water shut off upstairs, Dave came back in with a bottle of Gatorade for me. He sat down next to me and said, "So. How is Little Miss Hungover?.
I tried to punch him in the arm, but my fist just kinda...slid off him. No force behind it at all. It was pathetic, really. And I said, "Shut up. Get me food. I'm starving."
Dave didn't laugh at me, but I could tell he wanted to, and told me his Dad was making us food. Then he gave me the bottle of Gatorade and after I drank half of it he let me curl up against him and rest.
I don't remember if I fell asleep, but by the time Mr. L said the food was ready I was starting to feel human again. I didn't need Dave's help getting to the table, but I let him help me anyway. Once Dave got me to the table, he went to get Angela.
Mr. L made cheese omelets and home fries, and when he put a plate of it front of me with a glass of cranberry juice he asked, "So, have you learned your lesson?"
And I said, "Yes sir."
And he said, "Good, eat up. It'll help."
Dave came down with Angela a few moments later and she was a complete wreck. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin was pale, her hair was matted and in her face, and Dave had to use both hands to help her zombie shuffle her ass into the kitchen. It made me feel way better about my own condition.
Once Dave got her into a seat I smiled at her and said, "Did you have fun this weekend?"
She glared at me through her hair and said, "At least I earned my hangover. You only had like, three drinks."
I wasn't going to correct her, but then I saw Mr. L looking at us and so I said, "It was only two, I swear," and Angela sat bolt upright like a meerkat.
She turned around to see Mr. L standing there looking at her and she gave a strained smile and said, "Hi Mr. Lizewski. How're you?"
He snorted, said, "Just eat your food and don't do it again," and left the room.
After we finished eating Angela seemed tons better. But she was still only about where I was when I woke up that morning.
When Angela's parents called she told them we'd been watching movies all afternoon, which we had been since we ate "breakfast". I got to curl up with Dave the whole time too, which was nice. But Angela kept smirking at me whenever I saw her looking at us.
So Dave took Angela home because his Dad had left for work, and Angela seemed to have pulled herself together enough for her parents not to notice anything because she didn't get grounded or anything.
I fell asleep before he got back though, which sucked, because I woke up a few hours later after he'd gone to sleep so it was just me wandering around his house in the middle of the night. And of course I did end up falling asleep again around dawn, which just meant I had Dave shaking me awake to tell me we needed to get to school an hour later.
And my journey down the path of ordeals officially started.
Since finals are coming up, the teachers are going nuts. They're grilling us on everything we've learned this year. Or supposed to have learned in the case of most of my classmates. But that's fine. I don't mind that. It's school. That's what we're there for and it's not like I'm sweating bullets hoping I don't get called on. What's pissing me off is that they keep piling homework on us. My workload has literally tripled. It's so bad I've actually had to turn in some assignments late, and if it wasn't for our off days some of them wouldn't have gotten done at all. It's insane.
Angela's been acting weird too. She keeps zoning out and staring off into space. Then, yesterday, she suddenly slammed her first down on the table and said, "Ya know what? I'm gonna do it!" and then walked off to talk to come boy before I could ask her what the hell that was about. One thing or another kept distracting me so I wasn't able to ask her about that until we were warming up for cheerleading, but all she'd tell me was "I have a date tomorrow night."
Cameron has been working us into the ground too. The national championship is coming up soon, so she's doubled the length of our practices and is holding them every fucking day. The girl has lost her mind. If she keeps working the girls like this, someone is gonna pass out, or miss a catch, or have their legs give out and they're gonna get fucked up real bad.
And the really crazy thing is that patrol hasn't been any better! Every single night we're running into trouble. We've had muggings, beatings, stabbings, shootings, robberies, a rape, and a fire that I'm pretty sure was arson but there hasn't been an official report on the fire yet. And if the report says it wasn't I'll still think it was arson. And someone stuffed a bunch of bodies in a dumpster. They weren't even trying to hide them either. They just left them in there with all their legs sticking straight up like some kind of macabre art project.
But probably the weirdest thing happened last night.
We're walking down the street and this guy comes running towards and then hides behind Dave. Literally cowering behind him. And the next second these four other guys come running up and stop, and they're looking at the guy peeking out around Dave, and they're looking at us, and for a second I think the guy leading the group is gonna ask us to hand him over.
And I'm standing there going, "This guy is a drug dealer or something," and thinking that any other night we'd be the one's beating his ass.
But we didn't know what the hell was going on, so we had to do the Hero thing and protect the guy who came to us for protection.
And then after a couple moments the group walks away shooting the ocasional glare at us and the guy. Then, once they're out of sight, the guy starts falling all over himself thanking us and literally bowing to us (probably didn't want us to see his face) while backing away until he's about a dozen feet from us and then he turns and hauls ass down the street. And while we're standing there watching him go Dave says, "He was a drug dealer, or gang banger or something, wasn't he."
And I said, "Probably."
So yeah. I can't wait for finals and this championship, just so things can calm the fuck down just a little bit.
I got a text from Angela. "Sex is good." I guess her date went well.
On Second Thought: Third, Bust-Out Brigade by The Go! Team is the best theme song/anthem/ line-walk music ever. It's the new Guile's Theme and must be applied to every line walk in cinema to make it 200% cooler. I want to carry around a giant ass ghetto blaster with me so I bust this shit out whenever I walk down the street.
