And the Cat's Out of the Bag
The world was on fire. Frankly, right now, it could go die for all Ryder cared. There was nothing in between him and that shot of alcohol now. Nothing. Because it didn't matter anymore.
"More," Duke croaked from beside Ryder, signaling the bartender, who wisely brought him another glass and refrained from checking their I.D.
Ryder stared straight ahead, his eyes unmoving on the glasses of bottles tucked into their respective cubby holes. Blinking rapidly, he took another swig.
There. Much better.
"Why are we drinking again?" West asked drowsily, having drunk more than Ryder, even though he had only followed to tag along in the first place.
Ryder sighed at his friend's question. He'd decided to get pissed an hour ago, when he had woken up and it didn't seem as if there was much of any meaning to life anymore. Along the way, Duke—and West, who was with him-- had texted Ryder, asking if the three of them could go to The Poison Apple and get wasted together.
Ryder would've questioned why someone so upstanding would need to get wasted, but Duke had told him soon enough anyway. Apparently, come Saturday morning, Jade had shown up at Duke's doorstep with the four dreaded words any person in a serious relationship knew and avoided like the plague: we need to talk.
The rest, as they say, was history.
As if he could read Ryder's mind, Duke spoke up morosely, "I just can't believe it's over."
West stared stupidly at Duke for a moment, as if the thought was taking extra long to connect with his cognitive functions. "Your girlfriend? Jade?" he slurred, a look of confusion on his face.
Ryder pondered the unfairness of the world, when people like West, who had no problems whatsoever, could get their minds to stop functioning while Ryder had to sit here, downing glass after glass while failing to achieve the same result.
Stupid high level of alcohol tolerance.
"Ex-girlfriend now," Duke mumbled to them, downing another glass. He looked to his left and right, staring at his best friends with his brown eyes, his black hair ruffled. "I don't even know what I did this time," he shook his head sadly. "Normally, I do something to make her mad, but I've racked my brains, and I can't think of anything. I don't even think I've said five words to her since Wednesday."
Truthfully, if Jade had broken up with Ryder, he'd be drinking from celebration instead of sorrow. But he couldn't bloody well tell his friend that. Not when Duke looked like death warmed over.
On the other hand, West clapped Duke on the back, feeling sorry for his friend. It wasn't his fault he'd gotten involved with such a complicated being. "Did she tell you why you guys were breaking up?" he asked kindly.
"Yeah. Gave me some shit about how we just didn't feel the same way about each other anymore. How she didn't want to hold me back, and that we both deserved to see other people than stay in a dead end relationship anymore. Said it was only fair to both of us." Duke rubbed his eyes with his right thumb and index finger.
Beside him, even Ryder winced. It took a fool not to see through those words. It wasn't about how Jade didn't want to hold Duke back; what she was really saying was that he was holding her back. She'd obviously found someone else to chase, and had chosen to leave Duke behind in the dust.
An empathetic pang of sympathy went through Ryder to see his best friend, who was usually the leader and backbone of their threesome, brought down low because of a girl. The same exact girl who had gotten Ryder into this state, in fact, when she'd first bribed him.
"You don't need her," West told Duke, trying to bolster his spirits. "She was completely dictating your life. Now, you get to do things your way. You can go out and have a one night stand with any female you want. You can say no, if you want." He paused for a second. "Maybe now, we won't even have to get involved in her little revenge schemes anymore. Such a pain, those things."
Inebriated West's face lit up as he thought about his reasoning, his drunken smile wobbly. "That would be nice," he said, trying to put on a serious face and failing tremendously.
"I know. It's just weird that after so long, I'm single again. I always thought we'd end up lasting through college or some shit," Duke was looking more and more upset. If he weren't so drunk, he would've never admitted that out loud.
Seeing Duke's sad face made Ryder feel slightly better, no matter how terrible he felt for thinking that. After all, it helped remind him that he wasn't the only one hurting.
Pain shared is pain halved, after all.
In a sudden fit of inspiration, Ryder lifted his glass shakily. "I say we drink to something," he announced, his hand shaking in the air so that the alcoholic contents swiveled themselves around dangerously in his glass. One slight of the hand could tip it over.
"Yeah, drink to something," West reiterated, bobbing his head up and down. It was slightly strange to see artistically brooding West act so happy. It was as if Ryder and West had switched personalities somewhere along the way.
"What exactly would we be drinking too?" Duke asked moodily, frowning down at his half empty glass with an air of disappointment, as if the glass itself had offended him.
Ryder thought for a moment. Then, he nodded decisively. "I got it," he announced. "Let's drink to no more stupid girls and the way they control our lives."
"I like the sound of that," West remarked happily.
Of course he would, Ryder's disorientated mind thought. We're talking about West Tyson here, the guy who almost doesn't know that girls exist. If Ryder was in a clear state of mind, he would've kicked himself for saying something like that. However, in his current state of mind, all his thoughts were currently anchored on the pain Kate had brought him. He couldn't be held responsible for whatever thoughts that were running rampant around in his mind.
"I'll start," Ryder nodded, the idea of toasting to the root of his problem strangely appealing. "My girlfriend is gone."
"My ex-girlfriend broke up with me," Duke said bitterly, lifting his glass too.
The two of them both turned to look at West. They doubted his troubles were serious at all. West saw the two of them watching him expectantly. "My sister's driving me crazy, trying to get me to do all sorts of girl PMS shit for her," he told them, because he really had no major girl problems in his life that could rival Duke's and Ryder's.
The two of looked away disappointedly. There really wasn't much to say to that, and the three fell silent.
Ryder was gloomily contemplating spending the rest of his life like this when he heard his name. A part of him almost didn't even register it in the din of the bar, but this voice was distinctly feminine.
"Is anyone by the name of Ryder in here?" a high-pitched voice was asking the bartender.
Ryder turned his head over towards the direction the voice was coming from and saw that tell-tale mane of red hair.
Chase? He wondered disbelievingly.
Fascinated and unable to tear his eyes away, he watched as the bartender waved a hand towards his general direction. Chase turned and saw Ryder looking at her with his blood-shot eyes. There was a small sigh of relief as she ambled towards him.
"Thank goodness you're here," she told him, plopping down on the seat next to Ryder. She held up a piece of paper. "When Arielle didn't find you at your house, she gave me a list of places of where I could find you. It's a good thing you're here; it saves me a lot of trouble."
Ryder squinted at the piece of paper that she held in her hand and snorted. The next place she would've had to visit was a Hooters-type place that the three of them went on occasion when they were really bored. No wonder she'd been so relieved.
"So, are you okay?" she quickly stuffed the paper into her pocket, and popped her elbows onto the counter. "Arielle told me what happened."
And just like that, his amusement was gone and everything came crashing back down again.
"I'm fine," Ryder said rather stiffly. There was a reason he didn't want to see Arielle. It was bad enough that she had to be there when he'd been in the first stage of shock, but it would be even worse for her to see the after-effects.
"I'm sorry," she offered sincerely, her eyes full of understanding and sympathy. Ryder groggily thought of the irony that after a week of pursuing her, she would finally come around at a time when he didn't need her to talk to him anymore.
"It's nothing," Ryder mumbled, reaching to grab his glass again. To his surprise, Chase snatched it right out of his range.
He looked at her, astounded while she clutched the glass to her chest like it was her lifeline. "You really shouldn't be drinking. It's bad for you," she cleared her throat and explained sternly.
"But—" he protested weakly, not knowing if he should be angry at her or not, for depriving him of his drink.
"No buts," Chase said, her voice firmer this time. She took a look at his crestfallen face and sighed, hauling him up, "I know it's painful and it hurts, but when you wake up, it's not going to go away. You might as well start to deal with it now instead of putting it off. It'll only hurt more later."
"That sounds like it makes sense," West wiped his mouth with the back of his hands, his eyes keenly watching Chase. He shrugged his shoulders. "But then again, I don't really have anything to be sad about right now. I'm just drinking with my buddies to keep them company." He smiled, his face returning to its former doped expression.
"Of course," Chase smiled back at him, and tugged on Ryder's arm. "Now, come on. Let's get you out of here."
Ryder stumbled along, almost tripping over nothing. If he wasn't so disorientated right now, he might've commanded Chase to stop and unhand him. As it was, he really didn't have much of anything he could do except allow himself to be pulled along by a girl who had a surprising amount of strength for someone so little.
When they reached his car, he almost tripped again, trying to open the door.
Chase frowned when she saw that. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to drive in your condition. Give me your keys and I'll drive."
"You know how to drive?" he asked skeptically, fishing out his keys from his pockets, grateful that he hadn't done something stupid with them. Like he did that one time, when he'd thrown them into a fountain.
"I know how to drive ell enough," Chase answered vaguely, and somehow that didn't make Ryder feel better at all. She got into the all too familiar car, and looked around almost fearfully for a second before stabbing the key into the ignition and locking the doors for safety precautions.
"So, Arielle forced you to come fetch me?" Ryder said, his head starting to throb slightly. He didn't know if he should be flattered that Arielle had thought of him in his time of need. Or that the only reason Chase was here was probably because Arielle worked her wide-blue-eyed expression on her.
"Well," Chase cut her eyes to him for a minute, not missing the fact that the way he voiced his question sounded almost accusing that it had taken Arielle to get Chase to come visit him, "she asked me. But it was really my choice. I'm here because I care about you."
She gave him a reassuring smile. He noted that there was nothing there, except friendly concern. Maybe that was all she wanted to be. Ryder slouched down in his chair even further. Even though he didn't need to associate with her anymore if he didn't want to, there was still a small, sore spot in him that strangely felt like rejection.
"So, where do you want to go? We could go to a park or something. Help take your mind off something," Chase said, breaking Ryder out of his depressed thoughts.
Ryder made a face. He didn't feel like going to a park right now. For him, parks conjured up images of happy children running around in the sun, and lazing dogs. Definitely not what someone in depression wanted to see. If he had to go anywhere, he would prefer it to be someplace that would reflect the way he felt inside. Somewhere that you would read about in horror stories of haunted houses and dark forests.
Thinking about dark forests, a thought suddenly hit him, and he straightened up just the slightest. "Actually, I just remembered that I do want to go somewhere," he said. Maybe if he hadn't been so intent on getting pissed, he would've thought of it sooner. Still, it was nice to know that Ryder still had his occasional flashes of brilliance, even after a considerable amount of alcohol. But then again, his alcohol tolerance was scarily high. He had to, for him to still be reasonably functioning after all the drinks he'd consumed.
Bet Duke and West wished they could say the same.
"Oh, good. Where?" Chase said, looking relieved that Ryder was showing an interest, even if it was rather small. "Since I'm new here, I only know how to get to the park, the school, and to the house, but that's about it. You're going to have to direct me."
"We'll let the GPS take care of it," Ryder answered, reaching over and keying in their destination.
Chase took her eyes off the road temporarily to see where Ryder could possibly want to go. She looked up, raised a slight eyebrow, and then pointedly resumed looking at the road.
She didn't ask any questions and for that Ryder was grateful. They continued down the boulevard, everything silent with the exception of the female GPS voice.
Slowly, the busy interstate they had been driving on vanished, and they turned down a less sophisticated area. The houses were not as ostentatious as the other residences, though they were still decent-sized. The air seemed to be stiller in this area and even the sun seemed to have deserted the region in favor for a happier place.
Chase pulled to a stop, and Ryder saw that it was because a fat, black cat was ambling its way across the road.
"Bad luck," Chase smiled wryly, pointing a finger towards the road.
"That's something I could have less of in my life," Ryder commented, and Chase gave a small chuckle.
"We should be almost there," Chase said, after a look at the GPS. "In fact, it should be just about right up ahead."
Ryder twisted in his seat in anticipation. There was a small feeling of apprehension as Chase pulled ahead a little further, and parked the car.
Ryder got out of the passenger seat and his feet connected with the ground unsteadily for what had to be the tenth time this afternoon. Except this time, it was from nervousness rather than a lack of functioning abilities.
"Here you go," Chase announced to him, tossing her bag onto the seat before getting out of the car too. She smiled sadly at Ryder, as if she could understand the feelings that was passing through his frame of mind right this minute.
Ryder faintly heard what she said, but he couldn't even bring himself to respond to her as he stared at the vast expanse of tombstones. Somewhere in the land that stretched ahead, one of these was hers.
"Thanks for bringing me here," he said quietly to her, making his way to the gate. It slid open with ease, and the hinges didn't even make a sound. It was as if everything had fallen away, leaving only the two of them in the silence.
"Who are we looking for?" Chase asked timidly behind him. He detected a hint of apprehension in her voice, as if she didn't whether it was okay to ask him such a question.
He cleared his throat, feeling as if something was stuck in there permanently. "Kate Solemnity," he called behind him, and could almost feel her nod of understanding.
Ryder continued to plough through the endless rows of tombstones, bending down over each and every one to check. He saw the gravestones of dead uncles, wives, brothers, and once, even an eleven month old baby.
"I think I found her," Chase's voice called to him tentatively, and he swiped his head to see where she was standing at.
Heart in his throat beating faster and faster, he carefully weaved past the endless markers, and watched as Chase's face got closer and closer. Finally, he hesitated over Kate Solemnity's grave.
There was a moment when he almost felt like the air had become too compressed. Beneath him, lay the remains of Kate, a girl he'd fell for. He'd tried to get over her the first time around by hooking up with any available girl, telling himself that one of them would be the perfect one to fill the hole inside him. Needless to say, it'd failed tremendously. He wasn't quite sure the method would work the second time around, and he didn't have the heart to try anymore.
Before, it had been okay. She had broken things up with him, even though he knew it was because of her parents. But even then, somewhere in the back of his mind, there'd always been the thought that he could pass the time idly, waiting for the day she'd come back or he'd move on. But now, it just seemed disrespectful to her memory to go back to the way it was before.
He really didn't know what to do anymore. The last few days had ripped open the scar he'd tried so hard to close, and it still hurt like hell. A part of him wasn't sure what kind of life he'd go back to resuming, now faced with this knowledge flashing painfully in the back of his head.
She could still be alive, a dominant part of his head argued. Maybe her parents were wrong. What would they know about her, anyway? I'm the one who knew her best. They could be wrong…
Finally, when he couldn't resist the torturous battle in his head, and because he had to make sure, he agilely slid down onto the soft dirt, his eyes level with the engravings that had been chiseled into the everlasting stone.
And there it was. Kate Solemnity. 1993-2008. Beloved daughter. Rest in peace.
It was all there. Every single last bit of engraved stone. This was real. It wasn't some cruel joke that the universe was playing on him. And suddenly, Ryder felt numb. He couldn't even fool himself anymore. He couldn't pretend like it was just a bad mistake and that someone would come along to prove him wrong. Chase was right. All he'd done was try to deny the truth, and now it was time to face it: she was truly, undeniably, never going to come back.
Then, as if he'd summoned her from beyond, he felt her silky blond hair again, saw her special birthmark on her ribcage, heard her laugh. She was here. He tried desperately to hold on to her, but it slipped right through his hands, and then he couldn't feel her anymore.
And without realizing it, tears had started streaming down his face. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't stop. Beside him, he felt Chase sink down to the ground with him and wind her arms around his broad shoulders. He buried his face into her shoulder, needing to feel something firm.
Chase gently massaged his left shoulder, as she let him cry against her neck. If the steady fall of tears was uncomfortable against her, she never said a word about it. It must've made a strange picture, to see two distinctive blurbs holding each other with graves fanned around them.
Finally, he managed to pull his face out of the curve of her neck and stared unmoving towards something in the distance, letting the slight breeze wipe the remaining traces of his shame.
"I'm sorry," he finally said, after a long bout of silence, and lowered his unblinking gaze. "I'm drunk and I don't know what I'm doing. It won't happen again."
He felt Chase stir and pop her face in front of him, so that he was staring straight into her eyes. " Listen, it's not a bad thing to cry. It doesn't make you weak at all. My brother did it once, and he's the toughest guy I know," Chase informed him, having a good idea about where Ryder's sudden detachment was coming from.
Ryder looked at her earnest gaze, and allowed his lips to turn up just the slightest, even as his eyes remained serious and glazed.
Without acknowledging her statement or telling her how it made him feel the slightest better, he rose and offered his hand. "I'm ready to leave," he told her in a clear voice that was no longer congealed with emotion, letting nothing belie his inner turmoil.
She took his hand, and the two of them set off towards the car in a sort of camaraderie silence. Something was different now. There was that small strand of connection and friendship.
Their peaceful silence was broken when they reached the car. There was slightly distinct foul smell that permeated the air.
"What's that beeping sound?" Ryder asked, turning around and trying to search for the culprit.
"It seems to be coming from my bag," Chase frowned as she pulled Arielle's giant tote off the driver's seat. The sounds became sharper, as Chase grabbed the bag up and pulled it onto her lap. Her eyebrows slanted together as she pawed the bag; it felt heavy, and she quickly lifted it off her lap and onto the middle barrier separating driver and passenger.
"Why is this beeping?" Chase said in a confused tone, unzipping her bag. She stuck her hand in, rifling for the culprit, and then her face froze over in a look of horror and disbelief. She slowly withdrew her hand and held it away from herself like it was contagious. Slowly, she pulled it to her again, peering inside the bag.
A strange look came over her face.
"What?" he shook her shoulders a little, as if to snap her out of the weird dimensional world she was stuck in. Instead of answering his question, she threw off his hand, wrenched open the door, and proceeded to express her disgust by vomiting onto the gravel outside.
At this point, Ryder was too concerned to even worry about her leftover breakfast remnants getting over his precious car. "Are you okay?" he asked, growing rapidly alarmed by the second.
When she leaned back in her chair and didn't answer, he grabbed the bag to see for himself. He snapped it open, and immediately wished he hadn't.
Nestled inside, was a dead cat. It's terrible, yellow eyes were staring unblinkingly at him. He pulled it out, deciding that Chase would be in no mood to remove a dead cat. It might as well be the only manly thing he did today.
Ryder looked at the object in his hands disgustedly. It was the black cat that had crossed in front of them earlier in the day. Except now, its neck was bent at an awkward angle. Whoever put the cat inside had clearly first snapped its neck. The fur felt odd and stiff against Ryder's fingers.
A chill washed over him. This wasn't normal. It went beyond the normal, petty revenge schemes that girls like Jade were so fond of cooking up. This person was a psycho, obviously mentally deranged.
Unable to even look at it, he opened the car, and gently laid it down on the ground, only hoping that whoever found him would give him a decent burial.
"Your bag's still beeping," he informed her cautiously, as Chase was showing no signs of motor activity.
Hearing his voice, Chase closed her eyes and took out her new cell phone.
Flipping it open, she saw that someone had keyed a memo into it, programming it to send her a notice every so often.
Glancing at it, over her shoulder, Ryder scratched his head in confusion and quickly blinked his eyes to make sure he wasn't misreading it. On the memo, there was nothing except the number two.
Chase, pale-faced, quickly stuffed the cell phone back into her bag, and gunned the car down the road. "We have to get out of here," she told him, speaking for the first time since they'd got on. Her face still looked slightly sick, and Ryder noticed she'd set the bag down in the backseat, where it was out of her visual line of range.
"Who'd do that to a poor defenseless cat?" Chase whispered horrifically, finally regaining her sense of speech and willing to use it to voice her fears. Ryder heard her, but didn't answer that question. In his opinion, the better one would be who would do that to a poor, defenseless girl.
"And I was sure I locked the car," Chase continued, biting her lip and worrying it to no end. Ryder could only imagine the images going on in her head. Probably some lunatic haunting graveyards who strangles cats and breaks into cars on a daily basis.
"Well, it is a convertible," Ryder pointed out to assuage her fears, and by the look on Chase's face, he could tell she hadn't even thought about that.
"Right. I forgot about that," Chase swallowed noisily, but still not looking all too relieved. It was probably understandable, considering the state she was currently in.
Who would do such a thing, Ryder thought to himself, racking his brain long and hard.
As the car cruised back down the downcast lane, he looked out the window at the trees and the gloomy houses and suddenly squinted. There, in the thicket of some of the natural vegetation, he thought he could make out the silhouette of a human shadow watching them from the trees. Then, in a flash, it was gone, as quick as if it'd only been a figment of his imagination, leaving him with nothing but one question.
Who indeed.
A/N: First off, I just wanted to say that this story is not meant to condone drinking or killing cats in any way. My best friend has a cat, and I don't want to kill it or any other cat for that matter. That being said, thank you to everyone who read and reviewed last time. I am going to reply to all of them tonight, but I wanted to get this out to everyone first. The next chapter should be up Wednesday night, or maybe tonight, if I'm fast. As always, please read and review. Flames, criticism, random thoughts, always welcome too.