A/N: I'm baaaackk, lol. Thanks to a deal with xXxHinataUchihaxXx, plus her threatening to stab me with spork if I didn't update, I got the next chapter done, finally :D lol. I was kind of stuck on this fic for a while, but it's amazing how the threat of being stabbed with a spork can clear up a case of writers block :D
I hurried out of the kitchen, slipping easily through the crowded house in my search for one particular person.
"Hey, Alex!"
Shit. That wasn't the one particular person I'd been searching for.
Figuring that the voice had called loud enough and the room was quiet enough that I could not convincingly pretend I hadn't heard, I halted in my tracks and spun around to face Daniel, who was hurrying toward me. His eyes were wide blue orbs as he approached, and for the first time, it occurred to me that he wasn't quite as old as he seemed. I mean, at first glance, and even after having hung out with him for nearly an hour (not that I'd exactly been paying him undivided attention), he seemed to be a least a few years older, maybe around Dylan's age. Now, it hit me that he still had that kind of boyish look, especially when he was bounding toward me with his eyes as wide as saucers. Now, I'd guess he was still in high school. Maybe senior year, but high school.
"Alex," he caught up with me, pausing to catch his breath. He'd obviously scurried through the house just as fast as his little high-school-kid feet would carry him.
"Hey," I said coolly, trying to mask my impatience to get moving. I was a lesbian on a mission.
"So, we never got to finish talking," he shrugged, his hair falling into his face.
"Right. Um, sorry to cut this short, but I really need to use the bathroom," I lied.
He looked surprised. "Oh. Yeah, sure. Um, down that hall there, third door on the left."
I quickly thanked him, then made a beeline for the hallway he'd gestured to, desperate to get out of his sight. Just outside the bathroom he'd pointed me to, I glanced back, and saw that he had disappeared. Good. Now to find Dylan.
I was at least fairly certain that he would understand the brilliance of my plan to help Paige get back at her cousin, that is if I explained it to him. The problem? I didn't want any of this getting back to him before I got the chance to tell him myself. And with Little Miss Bitch running around, there was every chance that might happen.
I whirled around a corner, and nearly had a head-on collision with Mr. Michalchuk himself. He didn't appear outwardly violent, confused, hurt, or anything else to suggest that he had just heard about his boyfriend and sister kissing in the middle of the kitchen.
"Dylan! Just the man I was looking for," I said, pulling him into, ironically, as it was where I was actually supposed to be at the moment, a bathroom. How many of these thing were there throughout the house, anyway?
Okay, now Dylan looked confused as I shut and locked us inside the tiny room.
"All right, Curly, listen up, and promise you won't interrupt," I said gruffly. I didn't need him freaking out on me half way through my explanation.
"All right," he said slowly. He looked suspicious, and I couldn't fairly blame him. I would be too, if I were dealing with the evil genius that is me.
"Okay. Okay..." I said, trying to figure the best way to tell him this. Perhaps it was like removing a band-aid, best done quickly.
"Okay," I said again, taking a deep breath. "Here's the deal. Paige and Patricia don't get along."
"Yeah, no ki-"
"What did I just say about interrupting me?"
Dylan snapped his mouth shut again. You know, I will really have to pay close attention to some of the other people at this party, and find out if it's all Michalchuks that talk too much, or just the two I know.
"Anyway. Paige and Patricia don't get along. Patricia is totally jealous of Paige and Marco, and she's developed this insane psycho crush on him." I paused here, half-expecting Dylan to interrupt again. He didn't, so I continued. "And I thought it might be fun to...mess with her head." I shrugged.
"How?" Dylan asked. I ignored the fact that he had spoken again when I'd told him not to, and answered anyway.
"By making sure she sees Paige and Marco all over each other every time she walks in a room."
I seriously thought he might faint. Wimp.
Dylan didn't faint, but he did sink onto the toilet seat, which I noticed was decorated with some shaggy pink material. Actually, the entire bathroom was incredibly pink, even, if I do say so myself, more so than Paige's frilly, girly bedroom, which I was constantly begging her to redecorate. I swear, if we ever bought a house of our own together, I would personally ensure that every scrap of lace, every pink satin pillow, every last frilly rug the girl owned was mysteriously lost in the move. She could move in with Marco if she wanted pink satin pillows. He had never minded them. As I remember, he and Dylan had actually argued about the presence of a similar pillow in their own bed. Eventually, Dylan had gotten his way when the ruffled thing tragically disappeared, much to Marco's displeasure, who had passionately insisted that it was the perfect combination of comfort and style.
I live with two princesses.
"So, are you okay with this?" I asked Dylan impatiently. Did he have to be so dramatic? Really, they were his gay boyfriend and lesbian sister. Did he really think he had anything to worry about?
"I—I don't know, Alex," he said seriously. "I don't think I like the thought of them like that... much less walking into a room and seeing..."
I rolled my eyes. "Look, it's just business, okay? A way for Paige to finally win a battle against her cousin."
Dylan still looked uneasy. "But I don't know if I can be okay with it. Did they...do anything yet?" he asked hesitantly, as though he really didn't want to know the answer.
"They kissed. Once," I said reluctantly. "Well, Paige kissed Marco. Marco just kind of... stood there."
"You watched it? And it didn't bother you? Not even a little bit?" Dylan almost sounded hopeful.
"I watched from the next room, just to make sure Paige went through with it. And it was my idea in the first place. I mean, I don't particularly like it. At all. But, if it helps Paige out, then what the hell?" I said, trying to play it casual. Okay, so it was more than a little weird, watching the love of my life and one of my best friends since high school kissing each other full on the lips. But as long as I retained control over the little psycho-emotional monster in the pit of my stomach, and listened to the voice of reason in my head, I would be fine.
He sighed heavily. "Oh, God. Fine," he agreed. I grinned in satisfaction. Phase Two of operation Bring Down Patricia: Complete.
"Good," I said, relieved. "Now let's get out of this bathroom before I choke on the potpourri smell. I think they must have lined the vents with it or something."
Dylan laughed lightly, standing up and following me out of the bathroom.
"Dylan! Alex? Were you just—"
I nearly jumped in surprise at the voice. I glanced up to see Uncle Ray waddling toward us, his face a odd mixture of amusement and sternness. I looked up at Dylan, merely seeing what I like to call the "oh, crap" expression on his own face.
"Uncle Ray...hey," Dylan said weakly.
Ray glared down at us appraisingly. "Did you two just come out of there together?" he asked.
"Um, she was just..." Dylan began, but his voice quickly faded out into nothing when he realized that he had no convincing excuse to offer.
"Dylan." Ray was now staring at Dylan with a sort of nostalgic pride. The kind of look your parents get during those really big moments in your life. What are they called? Milestones. They give you this look...half unbearably sad that you're no longer the little kid you once were, half proud that you're now the grown person standing in front of them.
Anyway, that was exactly the way that Ray was eying Dylan. The older man swung an arm around his nephew's shoulders.
"Dylan, we need to have a talk. Man to man. Uncle to nephew," he said decidedly, tightening his grip on Curly's shoulders. Dylan looked at me, helpless.
"You wouldn't mind giving us a little time to chat, would you, young lady?" Ray addressed me.
"Uh...no," I said, trying to convey an apology to Dylan using only my eyes. "Go right ahead."
So, leaving Dylan and his uncle to talk, I turned around and headed in the opposite direction. Shuffling down the hallway and back around the corner near which I'd ditched Daniel, I literally came face to face with... well, I couldn't quite tell who it was at first, seeing as I was a bit preoccupied with colliding with them. I really needed to start checking around corners first before whirling around them at top-speed. It had been cause for more than a few accidents lately that could otherwise have been avoided.
"Emily," I said once we had both regained our balance and politely apologized.
"Alex," she said coolly. Okay, was it just my (probably overactive) imagination running wild again, or was she actually giving me the death glare? "I was just looking for you, actually." No, there glare was certainly present. I had gotten it from Paige enough during our pre-relationship years to know what it looked like.
"Really? What for?" I pretended not to notice the icy chocolate stare, going for my trademark casual attitude. I had found out over the years that it was, for the most part, the best way to cope with pretty much anything and anyone, no matter how trivial or earth-shaking, in your life. Casual indifference. Or at least, the facade of casual indifference.
"I wanted to talk to you. Come here." My curiosity getting the better of me, I allowed her to lead me down the hallway away from the slowly crowding room behind us, into a little sitting area near a window, containing two worn, ragged armchairs and a scratched and banged up coffee table that had obviously seen better years. The room was empty except for the small black cat stretched out on the back of one of the chairs. It lifted its head as we approached, its eyes sliding over us calculatingly. Tentatively, in case it objected, I reached out to stroke its head.
Emily was watching me idly. She seemed to be doing some quick and serious thinking; her brow was furrowed and her teeth tugged at her bottom lip.
"Her name's Midnight," she said softly, her eyes never leaving me.
I smiled. "Hey, Midnight." The small cat purred and leaned into my hand as I scratched the top of her head.
"There's another one running around here, too. Boots," commented Emily. "Daniel's grandma got them the last time I was here. I named Midnight myself."
I didn't ask what was with the random tidbits, figuring she'd either explain it to me when she decided to stop being so damn mysterious, or not at all, and she was just mentioning what she considered to be an interesting fact.
"They've been here for a year and a half," she continued. "I was here a year and a half ago. Were you?"
I frowned, unsure where exactly this was going. I was beginning not to like not knowing what the hell was going on with this girl.
"What do you mean?" I asked, unable to think of anything else to say.
Emily finally averted her eyes, which flickered momentarily toward the hallway. "Were you here a year and a half ago? When did you come into the picture?" she elaborated.
"Well...I started dating Dylan...about a year ago, I guess," I invented. Paige and I had moved in together a year ago.
Emily nodded absently. "So, I was here first. Before you." She looked up at me, and her brown eyes seemed to blaze. "And I'll be here after you."
All right, now I was officially lost beyond all hope. "What?" Again, it was really all I could come up with.
The brunette took a step closer to me. I had about three inches on her height-wise, but there was no denying the cool fury of the girl. She was the kind of person most people underestimated. Harmless enough, in her preppy little top and flirty mini-skirt, petite build and relatively diminutive height, she was the last person in the world you'd expect to have any considerable amount of physical strength and skill. Nevertheless, I could tell...by the way she stood, the white-hot electricity radiating off of her...that she could definitely hold her own, should the need arise.
It was the same thing when I'd fought that Nelson girl. No one would ever know it by looking at her...hell, even I'd underestimated her... but she'd had a hidden reserve of strength, it seemed, somewhere inside of her. In my mind's eye, I pictured a little wooden crate, shoved haphazardly in the corner of some dusty, long-forgotten room, the words Hidden Strength: Emergencies Only written clear across the front.
Emily took a deep breath. "I want you to stay away from Daniel."
Okay, that was certainly unexpected. "Pardon?"
"I said, I want you to stay away from Daniel," she repeated coldly.
Okay, so I had heard her correctly. "Um...any particular reason why?"
"Look, I don't know what it is about you..." she looked me up and down in cool appraisal, as though to emphasize that she really didn't see anything remotely remarkable. "But Daniel hasn't stopped talking about you since the whole video-game-bond-session."
I laughed. Couldn't have stopped it if I wanted to. I didn't pause to think that it was a bad idea. Then again, when did I ever? Now that I finally understood where she was coming from, I could not possibly find the situation funnier.
"Look," I said once I had gotten my laughter under control. "If you think I'm trying to...steal your boyfriend or whatever...you've got it all wrong. Besides, I'm with Dylan, remember?" I pointed out.
"So? You have a boyfriend. That didn't stop Erica Hanson from my chemistry class from dating the school football captain, and still hitting on Daniel when I wasn't around."
I raised my eyebrows. Erica who? And what the hell was this supposed to have to do with me? "And that involves me...how again?"
"All I know is that I am not losing the simultaneously smartest and sexiest guy I've ever dated to some punk rocker chick who thinks that mascara is the name of the new My Chemical Romance album," she spat venomously.
I gaped, honestly surprised at her sheer nerve. Oh, this chick was asking for it.
However, I was here for Paige. And Paige would kill me for kicking someone's ass, subsequently causing a scene and humiliating her in the albeit satisfying process. I kept my thoughts focused on my girlfriend as much as possible as I replied. Not with my fist, as I would have liked, but settling for a calm, reasonable response that Father Marco would have been proud of. Well, at least the shy, timid little Father Marco from grade ten. I distinctly remembered my friend punching out that homophobic asshole from that 'Soul Club' or whatever the hell it was during that safe sex thing he hosted a few years ago. I had really wanted to at least give that prick a bloody nose myself, but Paige had restrained me then, reminding me later that I was already one slip-up away from being expelled. Still...I'd just wanted the nose. And I figured a black eye would suit Emily well. Couldn't Paige let me have just a little something for my trouble once and a while?
"Look, Emily...I'm not trying to steal your boyfriend, okay? We were just talking about video games. That's all, I swear." Trust issues, much?
"Right. And now he's somewhere looking for you!" she said dramatically, gesturing wildly with her arms. Midnight seemed to have had enough of us both, and stretched lazily before leaping from the chair and bounding off. "You think just because you have one tiny thing in common with him, suddenly you've got him? I don't think so, bitch." She had leaned close to me, the last part coming out in a dangerous hiss. "He's mine."
I met her gaze evenly. I may not be able to hit her, or convince her that I was not after her boyfriend, but I refused to back down completely and become some docile victim of her sore attitude.
"I don't want him." I had to try one last time. Whether she believed me or not was her prerogative. But oh, God, if she only knew how much I didn't want him. Or anyone from his gender in general.
"Just stay away from him." And on that final note, Emily turned and stalked off, leaving me standing alone, shock, exasperation, anger, and frustration all battling for dominance in my head.
Really, who could have guessed we'd have gotten into so much trouble at one tiny party?