Winter Freeze
Chapter 10
"Kristen and Brian are fighting."
Owen glanced over at Annabel before looking back at the laptop he was holding. "Oh."
"Yeah and over something so silly too," Annabel went on, not picking up on the fact that her boyfriend really didn't care. They were both in her bedroom, him on her bed using her laptop while she went around the room, trying to find an outfit for that night. It was the last Friday night before school started again and she wanted to look hot or something. That's what she had told Owen. That she wanted to look hot. Which was fine…he just wished that it didn't take that long…
"What are they fighting over?" he asked, though he truly didn't care. At all. Still, Annabel had been pretty nice the whole day and he didn't want to upset her againt.
"The baby, I guess. I'm not sure. I heard Mom talking about it to Whitney on the phone though." Annabel shook her head as she stared at her open closet. "Then you know Whitney and Kirsten are mad at each other."
"About what?"
"You know," Annabel said, shaking her head at him. "Because Whitney was mad that Kirsten blew her off before. Remember?"
"Yeah," he sighed. "I remember."
"If you thought that Kirsten was high maintenance before, she's just unbearable now. I mean, she'd have been bad just being pregnant. And she have been annoying as a bride to be. But being both? She sucks. She legitimately sucks. You know what she told me yesterday?"
"What?" Owen asked, still just staring at the computer screen, reading an email from Rolly. "Bell?"
"She called me a bitch for not wanting to come down and see her on spring break. Like I want to spend time with someone that calls me a bitch? Apparently, I should be helping her out since she's pregnant and everything, but that's not fair. I want to be with you over break."
Break. Ha. Break. That seemed like so far away that it was laughable, but Owen was certain that after that laugh was over, he would find himself out of high school and the summer over, Annabel off to college, off to leave him behind.
"I don't know why you all play into her anyways," Owen told her honestly. "She's the bitch."
"She is," Annabel agreed, for which he was glad. The last thing he wanted at the moment was for Annabel to be upset with him. "She totally is."
"So anyways, where are we going tonight?" Owen looked up then, staring at her. "To the movies?"
"Ew, no."
"Where?"
"Whitney-"
"Annabel-"
"-is going to Lucas' club tonight."
"I thought he worked at a bar?"
"Whatever. He bartends at a club and Whitney said that I could go with her. And if I happen to take you along, could she really be mad?"
"Can we get into a club?"
"We're eighteen. So we can't drink. They stamp your hand or whatever."
"Really?"
"Depending on the bar. Besides, even if we can't, Whitney will get us in. Or, rather, Lucas."
"Really?"
"Really."
"I dunno. That'd kind of be like, you know, lying."
"You're such a baby, Owen. Besides, we sneak drinks at Bendos sometimes. That's lying." She shook her head. "God, really, you lie all the time. Seriously."
"I do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Yes, you do."
"Fine, Annabel. Let's go to a stupid club and drink and hangout with your sister that doesn't even really like us."
"Okay," she said, clapping her hands then. "Great. I win."
What else was new?
"I thought you said he worked at a club?"
"He does," Whitney told her sister as Owen pulled up to a rundown looking bar. "But he picks up shifts here. What? You thought I was taking you two to a club with me?"
"You're taking us to a bar."
"Clubs are different. Besides, no one ever comes here. Lucas and I mostly just hangout."
"On a Friday night, no one's here?" Owen glanced at the backseat, where his girlfriend's sister was applying some makeup. "How does this place stay open?"
"I don't know. I don't care. Lucas hardly makes any cash here. It's just extra." She nodded out her car window, at the parking lot. "See? There's, like, two cars."
Annabel, who was in the passenger seat, crossed her arms and made a sound of annoyance. "I thought we were going somewhere fun. I spent all this time getting ready and-"
"Who exactly were you hoping to pick up tonight anyways?" Owen asked, frowning at her then. "Annabel-"
"Alright, we're here. No fighting and no getting on my nerves," Whitney said as Owen stopped the car. "The only reason I'm bringing you two is because you guys have a car."
"Why don't you just buy a car?" Owen asked her. "Instead of waiting around for your mother to let you use hers?"
She made a face at him before getting out of the Land Cruiser. "I can hardly make my rent."
"Which car is Lucas's?" Annabel asked, looking around the empty parking lot.
"That one," Whitney sighed, pointing out an old, faded blue impala. "It sucks too. Smells like pot and pizza."
"That actually sounds really good."
Whitney patted her younger sister on the head as she got out of the Land Cruiser as well. "To be young and dumb."
The place was really a dump inside, or so Owen thought. It stank too, though it was more of a musty smell mixed with the scent of hard liquor. It made Owen sick, really.
"You look stupid with that hat on," was the first thing Whitney said to her boyfriend as she took a seat at the bar, settling into a stool.
Lucas grinned at her, that big cheesy one, before reaching up to pull the aforementioned item off his head. Placing it then on hers, he said, "It's a fedora. Who doesn't like fedoras?"
"I don't," Whitney told him as Annabel sat down next to her, Owen finding his place next to his girlfriend. He was still looking around, but there wasn't much to look at. There was a really shitty, tiny TV in a corner where two guys were drinking while watching a ballgame, ignoring the shitty picture the television gave off. There was a pool table off to another corner, but the felt needed desperately to be replaced. Then again, Owen figured most everything in there needed to be replaced.
"You look hot in it," Lucas assured his girlfriend before giving her a quick kiss before looking at all three of the people in front of him instead of just one. "I've been here alone all day. Except for those two guys. They came in about an hour or so ago. They're not too fun though, only want to watch that damn game."
"Works not supposed to be fun."
"Work is fun for me," he told Whitney. "Just not this job. That club though-"
"I hate that place."
"You hate the fact that other people find me hot."
She rolled her eyes at that before sighing. "I need a drink."
"You always need a drink."
Lucas didn't even ask what she wanted, just turned to get her some specific kind of beer. It was only after he had popped the cap on the bottle and given it his girlfriend that he truly addressed Annabel and Owen.
"I don't serve underage," Lucas told them simply. "I honestly don't play that game."
"Oh, Lucas, just give them shots or something," Whitney told him with an eye roll. Owen had never pegged Whitney for a beer drinker. He honestly figured she was into those girly martinis or whatever. It was really screwing with his mind. "It's not like anyone's here to card them."
"Whitney, I don't-"
"Just do it. Like they don't drink already."
Lucas stared hard at Annabel and Owen before shaking his head and pull two glasses from under the bar. "One drink for you, Annabel."
"What?"
"Ha ha." Owen poked her in the side causing her to hit at him.
"I'm not getting you drunk," Lucas told her. "What do you want?"
There was an awkward beat where Annabel just stared at him, no doubt embarrassed by her lack of knowledge. Lucas just smiled at her then before shaking his head. Of course Annabel blushed then, she always blushed when he looked at her, before looking off. Owen was put out by this, but said nothing as Lucas went around the bar, picking up different bottles and pouring them into a glass.
"You'll like it," Lucas told Annabel when he pushed the glass in front of her. "It's sweet."
She was tentative, of course, as she picked it up and took a small sip. Her opinion immediately showed on her face as it registered with her taste buds. When her face skewed up, Lucas only smiled.
"You get used to it," he told her simply while Whitney adjusted the fedora on her head. For someone that thought it was stupid, she sure was wearing it. "The bitterness."
"You don't get used to it," Whitney told her with a shake of her head. "You just get numb enough to not care anymore."
Lucas shook his head at her before looking to Owen. If there was anyone more inexperienced in the art of alcoholic drinks that Annabel, it was her boyfriend. Lucas saved him though by not even asking before setting out to make another drink.
"It's strong," was his only warning to Owen when he was done before focusing his attention back on Whitney. It was obvious that he couldn't really care less about Annabel and Owen. He had no doubt planned for him and Whitney to have some kind of semi-date.
"How was work?" Lucas asked Whitney then as Annabel attempted another sip of her drink. Owen was still staring down into his, debating on whether or not to drink from it.
"It was work."
"Poor Whit." Lucas reached out to pat her on the cheek, which she shockingly allowed. "I went to the store today."
"Mmmm."
"Just got groceries. You know I'm going to Mom's tomorrow."
"I know," Whitney sighed. "I work though."
"What kind of a business is open on the weekends anyways?"
"Quite whining."
He just shook his head at her. "You just don't want to go with me."
"I get off at three," she sighed. "What time are you going?"
"Before then."
"You just don't want me to go," she corrected his previous statement. "Admit it."
"I admit to nothing."
"It's really not that bad," Annabel told Owen after her third sip. He had finally tasted his own drink and found it to be, as Lucas said, strong and very, very bitter. His dad always told him though that the stronger your drink, the more of a man you were. "Especially considering Whitney's buying."
"I'm not buying your drinks. Either of you." Whitney took another sip of her beer. "Lucas buys mine."
"Yeah, and you two better freaking tip me," Lucas grumbled, walking off then, to the other end of the bar for something. "I need those tips."
"Maybe if you were a better bartender, you would get more tips," Whitney suggested when he came back to stand in front of her, pressing his hands into the countertop as he leaned over and stared into her eyes.
"I got you the drink you wanted without you even having to ask," he pointed out. "So what are you going to tip me?"
Owen watched as Whitney leaned forwards as well, whispering something some thing in her boyfriend's ear before sliding his fedora back onto his head. When she pulled back, he straightened up before moving to adjust his hat. He was smiling real big again, happy with whatever had been told to him.
Gulping down his drink, Owen slammed the glass down when he was done, causing Annabel to jump. Then he let out a long breath before asking Lucas if he could get him water.
"That can't be the end of your alcohol for the night, can it?" Lucas laughed at him, shaking his head. "Taste that bad, huh?"
"Take it like a man," Annabel chided. Owen just poked her in the side again. "Stop it!"
"I told you guys not to get on my nerves," Whitney reminded them with a sigh. "Lukie, go make me nachos."
"I can't believe you eat the food here. It sucks."
"You're the one who makes it."
"That's how I know it sucks." He glanced over at the guys in the corner then. "Think they'll tip me?"
"Poor Lukie." Whitney shook her head. "You'll never get rich at this rate."
"Was that the main goal?"
"Go over there and ask them if they need anything," Whitney told him. "That's how you get tips. You be helpful."
"I know that," he said. "But they're dudes."
"So?"
"I mean, if they were chicks I'd have been over there five times already. Since they're guys though-"
"Go make my damn nachos. Now."
"You won't even eat them. You never eat them." He pressed a kiss to her head then before turning and walking away. Owen watched him go over to those guys in the corner first though.
"Why don't you guys just move in together?"
Whitney glanced at her sister. "What?"
"It would save you money, right? And you live, like, three apartments away from each other. Literally," Annabel went on. "You could just live together and both save cash. You love him, right?"
"Oh, you're so immature sometimes." Whitney took a long swig of beer. "Do I love him? Really? As if that's matters."
"It does. Why wouldn't it?"
"Luke's never lived with someone. I've never lived with someone. That's very different from how we live now," she told her. "When we fight, because we do fight, I can go home or he can go home. And when we're ready to makeup, or rather I'm ready to forgive him, he can just come over and plead out his case. It works better that way."
"Couldn't you just-"
"Not to mention, I do have a lease. And so does he."
"Yeah, but-"
"Plus, living together is a big relationship jump. Huge even. That's, like, commitment."
"Aren't you committed to him?"
"You don't get it."
"You always say that I don't get things."
"Mainly because you don't."
"Whatever." Annabel took another sip of her drink. "Maybe you're just the one that doesn't get it."
"Maybe."
Owen took another look around, this time glancing at some of the posters and artwork that hung on the walls. Artwork was a stretch, of course, as it was mainly sports related things that didn't draw any attention away from the smell of the place. It almost smelt like mildew. Almost.
"Nachos."
Owen looked back as Lucas came back to the bar, carrying the plate with him. They all knew that Whitney would probably only eat, maybe, two chips, but Lucas would let her have anything. This was mainly to stop her whining and sulking, Owen was sure.
Whitney didn't touch the plate though, sliding it in front of her sister instead. Keeping her eyes on Lucas though, she said, "Annabel thinks we should move in together."
"Ha." Lucas smiled at Annabel, who, as always, blushed once more. "Then how could I have all my side chicks?"
"You never cease to test me," Whitney said dryly. "Besides, what makes you think I want to live with you anyways?"
"Coming from the woman that slept over at my place, oh, every single night this week?"
She finished her beer then before saying, "Wednesday we slept at my apartment because your cable was out."
"Same difference." He took a chip then, still smiling. "Need another drink yet, Owen?"
"N-"
"He's not man enough."
Again, Annabel got a poke. To Lucas though, Owen said, "Fine. Another…something. Whatever. I don't care."
"Don't get them drunk," Whitney warned. "They're my ride home. And then their own rides home."
"I'm getting them good and drunk. Owen at least. Not Annabel. That's her last drink, after all."
"First," Annabel corrected.
"And last."
"What difference does it make if I get drunk or not?"
"You're a little girl," Lucas told her. "Girls make dumb drunk decisions. Owen's a man. He can take it."
"Ow," Owen complained when Annabel hit him. "I wasn't the one that said it. God."
"You're just naïve," Lucas assured Annabel. "Wouldn't want a naïve girl hanging around."
"Lucas."
"What?" he asked Whitney at her single word warning. "I'm being helpful."
"I told you to stop hitting on my sister."
"I'm not. God, you're paranoid."
"Paranoid. Right."
"What exactly do you think I would do with your sister anyways? Huh? Ignoring the fact that both you and her boyfriend are right here?"
"I don't think that you're going to do anything."
"Okay then."
"But I still don't like it."
"You're just jealous of my happiness."
"That's totally it."
"See?"
Annabel made a noise then before looking at Lucas. Owen was mostly focused on that burning sensation in his stomach that had come from downing his drink.
"Can't I just have one more drink, Lucas? One more?" Annabel gave him her best innocent look, the one that used to make Owen so freaking hard. Now it just bugged him. But isn't that how life is? The things that used to attract you eventually repel you? "Please?"
"One more," Lucas said after glancing at Whitney who nodded slightly. "But that's it. Seriously."
The thing about one more, and anyone that's had just one more knows, there is actually no such thing. Because one more turns into another and then another and then, by the time you're done, you're a mess.
Owen and Annabel were a mess. Both of them. Neither had learned just yet that the meaning of handle your liquor literally meant that; that you could handle your liquor. It did not mean get so plastered that you have to be taken home in the back of a impala that really did, after a closer inspection, smell like some kind of frothy mix of pizza and pot.
"God, his Land Cruiser runs like shit."
At the moment, Annabel was in the bathroom, puking her guts out, while Owen sat there on Lucas' couch, trying to hold himself up straight. Lucas, who had been their ride home, was in the kitchen, cooking himself dinner. It was Whitney, who had been forced to drive Owen's Land Cruiser back to Lucas and her apartment building, that was really the upset one. Owen could tell that from her tone and the way she came into the apartment.
"It's three thirty in the morning. Keep it down. God." Lucas didn't even look up from the mac'n'cheese he was stirring by the stove. "Hungry, babe?"
She rolled her eyes heavily as she closed the door behind her. "Where's my sister?"
"Vomiting, I believe. Dying, if you ask her, I'm sure."
A call had been placed by that point, sometime earlier in the evening, to Annabel and Whitney's parents that she would be staying the night with her older sister. The call had been to their father, who immediately was suspicious, but after a few fake tears from Annabel about how she and Owen had gotten into a fight and she needed her big sister to see her through it, he readily gave in. After all, the last thing he wanted more of in his life was drama.
Owen's mother did not need a call, as she was staying with her sister that night. Though Owen would eventually get around to telling her the main points of his night, he had no desire to call and explain to her his situation at the moment. After all, there was nothing she could do. He was drunk. He was good a drunk.
"I'mma sleep," Owen told Whitney then as she stood in the doorway, glaring at him. "Here."
"Right there on the couch, buddy," Lucas agreed.
"Annabel's coming home with me," Whitney told them both then. Owen really didn't care where Annabel went at the moment. Annabel who? Who's Annabel? Where-
"Annabel!" Owen turned quickly when the bathroom door opened the reveal the girl. He tried to stand to go rush over to her, to greet her properly and all, but he couldn't get up. He felt really sick. Really, really sick. "Annabel."
"I wanna go home," was the only thing she said, staring across the room at her sister, tears glistening in her eyes. She looked horrible. She was in that whiny stage that she always got in whenever she got sick from being intoxicated. Those two things went hand in hand when it came to Annabel drinking. She did it so infrequently and her body was so tiny that it was not hard for her to get way too drunk way too fast.
Whitney had no sympathy though, only crossing her arms while leveling her gaze with her younger sister. "And you wanted me to take you to a club. God. You'd have disappeared with the first guy that offered to buy you a drink."
"I take offense to that, because I essentially bought her drinks tonight. All your drinks. And from the way things are looking, I am getting no action from anybody." Lucas shook his head. "I thought I was getting a tip tonight, Whitney."
"Here's a tip. Don't freaking over serve my sister."
"Here's a better one. Don't bring her to a bar."
It was time for the two of them to have a staring competition, which Owen quite frankly, just did not have time for. Holding up a finger, he paused for a moment before announcing that he was going to go to sleep. Again.
Both Whitney and Lucas had feared that he was be a belligerent drunk, but so far, he seemed far more laidback than anything else. And tired. He kept complaining about wanting to sleep. He was more annoying than anything else. It was Annabel that was being the problematic one.
"You're coming over to my apartment," Whitney told her. "So come on. Did you get everything out of your system?"
"I don't wanna," Annabel complained, still standing there in the doorway of the bathroom. "I wanna go home. Bear, take me home."
He lifted his head at that, but still couldn't find his feet. "I'mma sleep."
"I wanna go home."
"What if the two of them stay here?" Lucas asked then, still in the kitchen area working on his macaroni. "She can take the bed and he can have the couch. Then I can go over to your apartment with you and we can get on with this tip business. And by the way, baby, it's going to more than just ten percent."
Whitney didn't even look over at him as she headed over to her sister. "Annabel and I are going to sleep over here. Owen's on the couch. And you're going back to my place, Luke. I'm sorry."
"Why-"
"I'm not leaving my drunk sister alone with her equally as drunk boyfriend."
"Not equitality," Owen argued.
"Bro, the way you just screwed up that word says it all," Lucas sighed. "Whitney-"
"No, Luke."
"Fine. But I'm finishing my dinner first."
She rolled her eyes before moving to wrap an arm around Annabel. "Come on. Let's go lay down."
"I wanna-"
"I know." Whitney rolled her eyes. "Go home. You want to go home. Well tough shit, Annabel."
Owen was settled out on the couch then, laying down, unconcerned as Annabel continued to ask to go home. She was getting on his nerves, honestly.
"Up, bro."
Owen frowned as ten minutes after Annabel disappeared into the room with her sister, Lucas came to stand in front of the couch. Slowly, Owen moved to sit up once again, watching as Lucas sat down next to him. He was literally eating the mac'n'cheese straight out of the pot, using a big spoon to accomplish the task.
"You want some?"
Shaking his head, Owen stared straight ahead at the television. Lucas just reached out to pick up the remote off the coffee table and turn it on.
"Man, your chick ruined my night, bro," Lucas went on as he flipped through the TV channels with one hand and held the handle to the pot with the other. "But it's cool. I guess. I mean, Whit and I just fucked last night. It was hot too."
Owen blinked. Then he glanced at the other guy. "Bella hates sex."
"Yeah, they all do." Lucas snickered then, finally picking a rerun of Sportscenter. "Though, you probably suck at it. That's why she doesn't want to do it so much."
"Rolly says so too."
"Rolly. That dick you hangout with?" Lucas laughed again. He was being rather loud, but he was by far the most sober of them all. "I like him. You should have brought him tonight. Bet he tips."
"Shut the fuck up about getting tipped."
Both guys looked up as Whitney came back out of the bedroom, standing near the doorway for a moment. "And stop talking about sex."
Lucas whistled then, as Whitney had changed for the night into one of his sweatshirts and a pair of basketball shorts. She was also still sporting his fedora, as she had been most of the night.
"I ever tell you how hot you look dressed as me?"
"Every single time I wear one of your shirts or jeans," she told him dryly. "Though you have to admit, I'm hot either way."
"I admit nothing." He scooped up some more macaroni. "Hungry?"
"Not in the slightest."
"I could feed you," he inticed, but she only shook her head.
"I'm going to bed. Be quiet now. And, Owen, do you need a blanket? Or a pillow?"
"Babe, I think he'll pass out the second I leave."
"Fine." Whitney gave them both a long look. "Goodnight, Luke. I have work in the morning and you're going to your mother's, so I guess this is goodbye too."
"I'll text you," he assured her, still staring at the television. "Maybe we can meet for dinner or something. Or, well, we can meet for you to watch me eat."
"Lucas-"
"Not complaining. You're a cheap date. It's great." Lucas elbowed Owen, who had a slow reaction by flinching ten seconds later. "Most chicks hardly eat anything on dates. Other women believe that lie that it's more attractive to eat a lot in front of a guy. Took this chick out once, when I was nineteen. Took her to a pretty nice place, you know? I was a kid. Young and dumb. That bitch fucking ordered a steak. A bigger one than I got! Then she didn't even put out."
"I thought I told you to stop talking about sex?"
"And I thought you were going to bed?" Lucas made a face over at his girlfriend. "That was old me anyways, babe. Order what you want at dinner. I don't care. Besides, you won't eat it and then I get to take it home and have it for a snack later."
Owen let out a loud groan then, finally finding his feet. "I gotta piss."
"You miss and I'll make you lick it up."
"Lucas."
"What, Whitney? You gonna clean up after him?"
Owen didn't hear them then, as he stumbled his way over to the bathroom door, taking a moment to compose himself before going inside. It reeked of liquor and vomit, but then again, Owen didn't smell so sweet himself…
When he finished in the bathroom (only missing by, oh, maybe an inch), Owen headed back into the living room. Lucas was still out there, eating in the darkness save the television, but Whitney was gone, no doubt retired for the night. They had said something about her working in the morning.
"You know what's behind that door, bro?" Lucas didn't even look at Owen as he sat down next to him. "My chick. You know where I don't get to be tonight? With my chick."
Owen let out a loud yawn, but didn't say anything otherwise.
"You know what she was going to do for me tonight? You don't want to know what she was going to do for me tonight. Now I gotta go stay in her bed, but without her."
"I'mma sleep," Owen said then. "If you move."
Lucas patted his couch before standing. "All yours. I'll just take my mac to go."
Shifting to lie flat once more, Owen let out one last loud yawn before closing his eyes and falling into a deep, deep sleep.
The night wasn't so bad. Owen was always a sleepy drunk and found peace relatively easy. He awoke once to darkness and sounds of someone moving around. He knew though, even in his drunken slumber, that it was just Whitney getting ready for work. As much as a bitch she tired to act like, she was as quiet as possible, only really making any noise when she stubbed her toe on something in the kitchen.
After that, he fell back into his dreamless sleep. It was not until around eleven in the morning that he was awakened again, that time to the sounds of people speaking. This was slightly odd, as he had slept fine to the noises of the television being left on. Still, the chattered disturbed him. Not enough to actually arise from his stupor, but enough to listen.
"I have, like, the worst headache."
"You, like, do?"
"Shut up, Lucas."
"God, you sound just like your sister." The man paused for a moment before saying, "So you want some of these eggs?"
"God, no. And that bacon smells horrible. It's making me nauseous."
"Go back to bed if you want. I didn't mean to wake you up. I just didn't want to go in there while you were passed out or whatever. Seemed indecent. Just needed my clothes for the day or whatever."
"Actually, do you have the key to Whitney's apartment?"
"Of course. Why?"
"She told me last night that I could go over there and get a change of clothes," Annabel told him. "Mine kind of smell like, well, puke."
"You smell delightful."
"God, I know why she hates you now. I honestly do."
Lucas was unfazed by that it seemed as he then said, "Your sister get to work on time?"
"I don't know. She was gone when I woke up."
"Yeah," the older man sighed. "She has to get up at, like, four or so every morning, be gone by half passed five."
"I didn't know she woke up that early."
"She's just a receptionist too, you know? She has to, like, drive forty-five minutes to get to work. Like hell, I don't know why she didn't get an apartment closer to work." Then, after a thought, the man said, "Though, I guess I should be glad she didn't."
"Why?"
"Then I wouldn't know her."
Owen opened his eyes, sitting up then, blinking as he looked around. His eyes fell easily on Lucas, standing by the stove cooking breakfast, and Annabel, leaning against the counter next to him. Annabel gave him some kind of a look when their eyes made contact, but he couldn't decipher it. Not with the headache he had.
"And so the lion awakes." Lucas looked to Annabel. "Isn't that what you call him?"
"Bear," she corrected. Or was she speaking to Owen? He couldn't tell.
"Beer?"
"Bear," she told Lucas, still looking at her boyfriend. "Sn-"
"I need aspirin," Owen cut her off, scrambling to his feet. "Do you have any-"
"Yeah. In the medicine cabinet in the bathroom." Lucas didn't look away from his food. "Hungry?"
Owen only groaned, heading into the bathroom.
"You people just don't eat. You, your sister, your boyfriend. God. I feel like a pig." Lucas paused again. "A happy pig though. And that's all that matters."
Owen took a minute or two in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror, wondering if he should call his mother then. She was only some odd miles away, at Cam's place, and yet she had no idea that he was in the same town as her.
"I'm about to set out, guys," Lucas was saying as Owen came out of the bathroom finally. "After I eat breakfast. Gotta go see my mom. Take care of some stuff for her, you know? And not that I don't trust you guys, but-"
"We'll leave. I need to stop by Whitney's first."
"My keys are in my jeans in the bedroom," Lucas told Annabel. "Are you two okay to drive? Or are at least one of you able to?"
"I can drive," Owen groaned. "So let's go, Bell."
"I just said I need to go over to Whit-"
"Then just do it."
"Shut up, Owen. God. You're the one that-"
"Rules stand the same as last night. No fighting. Please, God."
Both of them made a face at the older man, but he didn't care. Lucas didn't seem to care much about anything, honestly, and it annoyed the heck out of Owen. It truly did.
"So what did you do last night?"
Owen hardly looked at his sister, instead focusing on his cell phone. "None of your business."
"You weren't at home, were you?"
"What makes you say that? You weren't here."
"Because Annabel posted a photo on her UMe and-"
"Can you please, pretty please, stay the heck off my girlfriend's stuff? Seriously."
Mallory just looked back at the television, which both kids happened to be watching at the moment. They were seated on the couch of their living room, there mother off in her bedroom. Napping, Owen assumed.
"Annabel wants me to be her friend on UMe."
"She does not."
"She does so."
"She's just being nice to you. She's always being nice to you. She really doesn't care anything about you."
Mallory glared at him then and, though he didn't look up from his phone, Owen did sigh slightly.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I just have a headache today, alright?"
Mallory did what she always did then, when she knew that she was getting on his nerves. She leaned against his arm and let out a long sigh, almost snuggling into him. When they were little kids, when he would get upset with her, she would always hug him. Just wrap her arms around him until he couldn't be mad at her any longer. She was his baby sister after all. His.
"So you're not going to tell me?"
He rolled his eyes. "I just hung out with Annabel and her sister. And her sister's boyfriend, but-"
"Oh my God, oh my God." Mallory actually gave out some kind of squeal. "You hung out with the model?"
"They were both models."
"Yeah, but Whitney, like, went to New York and stuff. Annabel told me. She's the real deal, Owen. She's a for real model."
"Annabel-"
"Is awesome. I love her," Mallory assured him. "But Whitney-"
"Calm down," he said with another shake of his head. "You're supposed to be resting."
"I always rest. That's all I ever do is rest. I'm tired of resting. I'm bored."
"You're too weak to do anything."
"Why couldn't Annabel come over?"
"I don't know, Mal. I didn't ask her to. We spent all last night with each other, so-"
"So ha. You weren't here."
He just shook his head. "I just slept over at Whitney's boyfriend's apartment. I slept on the couch."
"Why? What was wrong?"
"Nothing was wrong, Mal," he told her with a sigh. "It was late and Annabel and I didn't feel like going home so late. We were over there, so she and her sister went to bed and I took the couch."
Mallory yawned then, still cuddled against him. "I had to go to Cam's. I'm tired of going to Cam's. Cam's or here or the hospital. I hate it. I want to do something fun."
Owen sighed. "You wanna play-"
"No, Owen," she said. "I don't want to play Halo."
"Well, then you really don't want to have fun, do you?"
She just yawned again. "I wanna go stay with Dad."
That caught his attention. "Huh?"
"Yeah. I wanna go stay with Dad. He told me that I could. He'd pay for my plane ticket. Or, if I couldn't fly, he'd drive up here himself to get me."
"Mallory, you can't-"
"He said in Arizona that he wouldn't just keep me locked up like Mom's doing. That he would actually take care of me."
"You don't even get it, Mallory. Mom's helping you. And Dad, he doesn't get it either. He can't get it." Owen shook his head, looking up then. "Dad doesn't know how you get, how much help you really need. He thinks that he can just sweep in and save the day. Guess what? He can't. You have to learn that. You really, really have to learn that. Dad isn't some superhero. He isn't even a good person. Not really. You're in the best place you can be right now with Mom and Cam. You truly are."
She was silent for a minute, no doubt taking in what he had said. Then, slowly, she turned to look up at him slightly.
"And you, huh?"
"Me what?"
"You're here too. I have you too."
That got him to shake his head, turning to face forwards once more. "I can't do anything for you, Mal. I wish I could. I really, really do. But I can't. I'm no good at, you know, taking care of things. I love you and so does Dad, but we're no good at fixing things. At helping. I couldn't even care for that stray yellow cat I used to feed outside! And Annabel hates me half the time. She's the real show of how horrible I am at caring for someone. And she's not even sick."
"But I want you," Mallory argued, moving away from him then to just look at him. "Really, Owen, I-"
"I think…" Owen shook his head. "I think when Annabel leaves at the end of summer, that I might go stay with Dad."
"What?"
Owen nodded slowly. "I've been thinking about it for a long time and-"
"What are you going to do in Arizona?"
"I dunno. Dad said that he could get me a job. And I was thinking, I mean, Lucas isn't too smart. Or interesting. Or even funny. And he became a bartender. And we were talking at the bar last night about how easy it is. Or he says it is. And he's not too bright. Then he was telling me about how he used to lay brick. That sounds easy, right? There has to be some people who need that kind of stuff down in Arizona, huh? Or anywhere really. And I could just go somewhere and Annabel could visit on vacations and-"
"How come everything revolves back to her anyways? So you could just leave me behind, but Annabel gets to visit?" Mallory crossed her arms, but Owen only rolled his eyes. "So you won't try for me, but you will her?"
"It's different. I can't help you the way Mom can. Cam can. I mean, you'll always be my sister, Mal, but I just…need to get away."
"To Dad?"
"Just somewhere," he told her with a shake of his head. "It would be no different than if I went away to college."
"It will be different," she insisted.
"How?"
"It just will." She sniffled then, still not looking at him. "I've never…"
"You've never what?"
"Lived without you," she sighed. "We've always lived together."
"Mal…" He reached over, gently stroking the top of her head. It bothered him at too sometimes, the thought of being without her. In his scenario though, they were separated for a far, far more permanent reason. "No matter where I go, where you go, or what comes between us, you'll always be the person I love the most. I promise."
"More than Annabel?"
"More than Annabel. More than anyone." He hugged her to him then, shaking his head. "I'd die without you."
That made Mallory feel better for some reason, though he wasn't sure why. He might die without her, but she was going to die with him. Neither of them were going to win in the end. Neither.
"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?"
"Only, oh, fifty times a day."
They paused to kiss before he said, "Well, here's fifty one. I love you."
"Love you too."
It was around then that it happened. Annabel and Owen were home from doing Anger Management and, on their last day of winter break, they were hanging out alone in his bedroom. And as no one had been home for hours they figured they could, you know, mess around some. Because…they're eighteen. Duh.
"Mmmm. Bear?"
He shoved up Annabel's shirt when she moved away from him slightly. "Bell."
"Can I…?"
"Can you what?" he asked, shifting on the bed as she straddled his lap, keeping both hands pressed against his chest. "Huh?"
She shifted then, to take her bra off as well. Owen's attention was immediately rapt, but it was then that she chose to speak.
"Can we do it like this?"
"Like what?"
She moved to kiss him again, not answering as his hands found their place on her sides. When they separated again, she asked, "Can we have sex like this?"
"With you over me?" The talking was really killing it for him, but he was still trying to appease her. "Like on top or whatever? Yeah. People do if that's what you're asking."
"But can we?"
He shrugged as best he could with his pants as tight as they were at the moment. "It might even be better."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He only shook his head, moving a hand up to cup one of her breasts. "I have a condom in my bedside drawer. Can you-"
"Yeah." She moved then, to reach over to the drawer.
It wasn't so awkward after that. It really wasn't. It wasn't better really, but it wasn't as uncomfortable either. Annabel had about the same amount of nervousness as she always did and it only intensified under the stress of actually having to figure everything out. It seemed simple enough, right? They were both almost drunk though on giggles, as they both did when they got so flustered. Owen's stereo was playing something loud and silly. It was distracting, their movements were distracting, everything was distracting. They were so lost in themselves and what that they were doing that nothing could reach them in their little world.
And that's why they got the scare of their lives not five minutes later.
Annabel had been really hesitant at first, but she was kind of into it at that point. And Owen was always into it. Always. So that's why when his bedroom door opened, they didn't really notice. Then they did.
He didn't know who moved faster. Annabel, who after a glance behind herself, immediately tried to get off Owen, holding her hands over her chest or his mother, who slammed the door shut, calling out something over her shoulder. He knew for a fact though that it wasn't him, who just sat there, dazed and slightly annoyed that he hadn't gotten off yet.
"Sorry," he heard his mother call through the closed door while Annabel began to blush profusely. "Owen…I need to see you when you're…finished."
Oh God. Did she have to put it like that?
It was awkward then. It was really awkward then. Finish? Really? Finish?
"Oh my God, oh my God." Annabel looked as red as he had ever seen her as she struggled to get away from him. "She saw, she saw, she-"
"Shut up." Owen took a deep breath before saying, "Maybe she only-"
"She saw, Owen!"
"Well…get off." He lifted her up some before struggling out from under her, almost tripping over his jeans as he stood, as they hadn't fully gotten them off his legs and they had been around his ankles. "Just…"
"I have to go. Now." Annabel was quick to get up to and began to dress in a hurry. "I'm so-"
"I know. Just calm down."
"You calm down, Owen," she retorted, clearly upset. "God. What if my Mom saw you naked?"
"She didn't see-"
"Yes, she did!"
He fell back into a sitting position on the bed after pulling up his jeans. Now what?
"God, she's out there." Annabel was dressed then, staring at his bedroom door. "I have to look at her. God, Owen, you-"
"I'm sorry, okay?" He shook his head. "I really am. You could climb through the window if you-"
"Are you high or something?"
"I wish." Annabel groaned before shaking her head. "Get dressed."
"Huh?"
"You're not going to make me walk out there alone, are you?"
"No," he groaned before standing. "I don't really want to either though, Annabel."
"Let's just go."
He pulled on a t-shirt before leading him out of the room. The second they were down the stairs, Annabel ran passed him though, through the kitchen and through the living room, not even saying goodbye. His mother, who was at the kitchen table, watching, just stared at her son as he came to a stop in front of her.
"She didn't have to leave so early." Teresa took a sip of water from the glass in front of her. "I didn't mean to break up your little party."
"Mom-"
"Sit."
"You're the one that said-"
"You're not in trouble," she assured him. "Just sit."
He didn't want to, why would he, but he did anyways, taking a seat right in front of her. He slouched over slightly, not able to meet her eyes.
"Well," Teresa said slowly. "This isn't exactly a pleasurable conversation for either of us."
"What are you doing home?"
"I got off early and wanted to come check on you. You were so moody last night." She shook her head. "And now here you are, having…sex with that girl under my roof."
"You always told me that I could."
"I say a lot of things I don't really mean. Then you do them and when they come to light, I find that I hate myself for trying to be so open with you." She sighed slightly. "Your father was so…rigid when you were growing up. And I was always so…"
"High."
"Drunk."
"You used to-"
"Whatever, Owen. Intoxicated." She rolled her eyes. "I just wanted you to, you know, have someone."
"Someone to what?"
"You never really made friends, even when you were young. And you were always so angry and your father thought he could just beat it out of you. He thinks he can beat anything out of anyone. That's why he always ends up alone, you know." She shook her head. "I just wanted to be your friend. I always have wanted to be your friend. And then you got older and I thought that I had to change to keep you that way, happy."
"I'm happy."
"You're not happy. You might have been, oh, ten minutes ago, in your bedroom-"
"Mom-"
"-but you're not really happy. It's obvious, Owen."
"And you are then?"
"No," she told him flatly. "But I haven't been for a very long time. Maybe not since before you were born."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, sweetheart. And that's my whole point." Teresa sighed slightly. "I didn't mean to embarrass you or Annabel. You just…shocked me. I thought we agreed that you would tell me when… How long exactly has this been going on?"
He shrugged slightly. "November since we slept together. The summer since…"
"Since…?"
"Since."
She took a long breath then. "I need to smoke. God, you have no idea how much I've wanted to smoke recently. Nothing serious. Just a cigarette. But I know I can't just have one. I've never been able to have one."
Boy did Owen know that feeling. Slouching even more, he said, "Are you going to ground me?
"For what?"
"Having, you know, sex with Annabel?"
"No, Owen," she sighed. "Of course not."
He had a feeling had it been her parents that caught them, that wouldn't have been the easy answer.
"Then-"
"Do her parents know?"
"Huh?"
"Well, not her father, I'm sure, but her mother? Does her mother know that she's having sex?"
"No," Owen said with a shake of his head. "I don't think so."
"Owen-"
"It's not something we go around telling."
"Everyone else is these days," she told him with a shake of her head. "Owen, you need to tell her parents. Or, well, she does."
"Why?"
"Because, Owen, you're having sex with their daughter." She gave him a hard look. "You could see why that would be somewhat important, yes?"
"I don't-"
"Are you using protection?"
He stared at her for a moment before nodding. "Condoms."
"And she's on-"
"No. I don't think so."
"Owen-"
"Why does it matter?"
"You know what it matters. We both know why it matters."
"I-"
"If you get this man's daughter pregnant, we're all going to be in trouble. Big trouble."
"I'm not going to," he insisted.
"No one's going to until they do."
"Mom-"
"You think that he's mean now, right? This man? Annabel's father? You told me that he's upset that his oldest daughter, who's grown, is pregnant. You think his high school daughter becoming pregnant won't make him worse?"
"I don't-"
"And what? You think Annabel would be cool with it?"
"What do you want me to do, Mom? I can't force her to get on birth control, can I? No. That's her business."
"Boys. A son. That's what I wanted. Sons. And then I had you and all I wanted was a daughter."
He made a face at that. "That's a really shitty thing to say."
"Language."
"No, it really was."
"Owen-"
"God, Mom."
"I didn't mean it that way anyways." She shook her head. "Why didn't you take it as I found perfection in you?"
"Whatever."
She took another sip of water, shaking her head. "Your sister told me today that you want to leave."
"Leave?"
"Move in with your father."
Owen sighed slightly, choosing rather to talk about the whole sex thing than what they were currently. "I've been thinking about it."
"She's very upset. As if you're leaving tomorrow or something." Teresa laughed slightly. "You know how much she loves you, Owen."
"I know," he mumbled, embarrassed once more.
"It's scary for her, right now. Not knowing about…"
"I know, Mom."
"If you want to go to your father's when you graduate, Owen, that's fine. But I'll always want you here."
"Okay."
She stood then, coming around the table to pat him on the cheek. It was awkward for Owen, of course, as he still had sex on the brain.
"You don't get this girl pregnant," his mother told him simply. "Because I swear, if you do, her father isn't the only one you're going to have to watch out for."
"Winter will be over soon."
"Yeah. Then it'll get hot again."
"Not hot like I'm used to. But warmer than it is now."
"Winter. Winter. I like winter."
Owen smiled down at Annabel as they sat on their wall. So far, the first day back in the new semester was going great. Or rather, Owen had had no homework and, as it turned out, passed all his exams from the last semester. That meant that he actually passed everything except for trig. And since he had no dropped trig and was using one of his electives to take some sort of credit recovery class, he'd be well on his way to graduating.
…You know, if he actually kept up his grades in his last semester. Because the way things seemed at the moment, it seemed unlikely. Owen wasn't someone who finished strong. Especially not when the end was basically also the end of his whole entire life. And yes, so sometimes Owen was dramatic. So what?
"Me too," Owen told his girlfriend then, still smiling at her. So far, the two of them had yet to touch on the subject of his mother walking in on them the day before except for Owen apologizing again. That was the end of it though. For the time being, at least. Once they were both over being so embarrassed he was sure that it would find its way to the forefront again. Reaching over, he patted the coat she was wearing. "And I like your jackets."
"Coat."
"Same thing."
"To an idiot."
Owen shook his head then, but Annabel only leaned into him slightly, holding out her bag of chips to him. After taking them, he said, "Mom was so pissed when your parents bought me that really nice winter coat."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I guess she got embarrassed by it."
"But why?"
"I think she thought that your parents thought that she didn't have enough money to buy me a coat. Then she accused me of making us seem poor or something."
"Poor Bear."
"Poor me. Then she got mad when she saw that new mp3 player."
"How come?"
"Same reason. She said it was too expensive."
"She sounds like she was just in a bad mood that day."
"Maybe." Owen looked down at the mp3 player now resting in his hands. "I like it though. Thank you."
"Of course, Bear."
He laughed slightly before looking at her. "You're really nice to me."
"Sometimes," she told him before taking her bag of chips back. "When I need to be."
"When do you need to be?"
"When you're having a bad day," she told him. "But when you're not, I'm kind of a bitch."
"You are not."
"Gavin."
He gave her a look for the name, but still only shook his head. "You're far from a bitch."
"It's okay, Owen. I'm really high maintenance."
"Kirsten? High maintenance. Whitney? Some maintenance. You? All I have to do is make sure no one is picking on you and you're fine."
She made a face at that. "You act like my bodyguard sometimes."
His eyes easily found the table where James sat, some of his buddies there with him. "Someone has to be."
"No."
"For you? Yeah. Either that or you have to learn to stand up for yourself."
"I stand up for myself just fine."
"Bella."
"Well, I do better than II used to do. Huh, Bear?"
"I guess so," he said. "I mean, you never really have the opportunity."
"I stand up to you just fine."
"Well, yeah, you do that," he told me with a shake of his head. "But I do give in most of the time."
"Not all the time though. I've had to fight for things before with you. Like that time I wanted to go to that party with James and Kyle. I won, didn't I?"
"Yeah, but you had a horrible time and should have listened to me."
"The outcome is not what's being questioned here, Bear."
He shook his head slightly before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. This was more due to the cold than anything else. He really wished that they had chosen to eat inside. January in the north was a lot different from the south.
"Mal's upset with me. Thinks I'm running off to Arizona without her."
"Are you?"
"Course not."
"Then why does she think that?"
"'cause I was thinking about going to stay with Dad. You know, when you take off for college. See how I like it down there."
"You know how you liked it down there."
"Yeah, butt it'll be different, you know?"
"No."
"You won't be here, Annabel," he told her. "What reason do I have to be here if you're not here?"
She just shook her head. "Maybe it'll be good, you know? You and your father can spend some time together. And you can work. You like work."
"No one likes work."
"Lucas likes work." Annabel giggled then. "At least that's what he said."
"I'm really not feeling this whole togetherness thing."
"What do you mean?"
"Us hanging out with Whitney and her boyfriend."
"You like Whitney."
"I think Whitney has good taste in music. Great taste even." He shook his head. "But you think Lucas is hot."
"You think Whitney's hot. That's all I think Lucas is. Hot. I don't think he's got great taste in music or anything else."
"Guess your right."
"I'm always right, Bear," she told him as the bell rang. Standing, she said, "Remember that."
"Believe me," he sighed, moving to stand as well. "I've always known that."
Done. Thinking of going back to 5 chapters with the next one. Maybe.