Chapter 8

A/N: There's going to be one more quick update after this. As for after that, I don't know... =(

"Olive, you can't keep me locked out of my room all night. I'm eventually going to have to sleep!"

Olive's voice, muffled on the other side of the door, but still easily understood, "That couch in the living room is actually very comfortable. You should try it!"

Chyna groaned. "This isn't fair! I was the one who brought you on this trip! My parents were the ones who booked this place. Not yours! You have no – right – to – lock - me - out!" She rapped her fists at the door sharply with each word for emphasis.

Olive must've been right next to the door now, because her voice rang nice and clear, "Actually, it was your agent and manager who booked you this trip. Not your dad. Sheesh, your dad would be too cheap to pay for a motel 6, let alone a place this nice!"

Chyna couldn't argue. Olive had her there. But still …

"Olive, you don't want to do this. Remember who my dad is? He's a cop. When he comes back, from – wherever he is - and he sees that his precious daughter was kicked out of her room – what do you think he's going to do?" She challenged.

"Absolutely nothing!" Was Olive's prompt response.

"Really Olive? Really?"

There was no answer from Olive's side of the door.

Just then, Chyna heard the Suite door creak open, along with loud, clanging footsteps, and laughter.

Chyna laughed triumphantly. "Haha! Well, what do you know. My parents just got back. I guess we're about to find out." She declared.

"O000ooo0oohh, I'm so scared!" Olive mocked.

Chyna glared at the door. "You just wait and see, Olive. Wait and see!"

Chyna felt confident that her dad was going to take care of things, until she heard, "Roxanne – you know when you play dartshhh, the dart ish shupporsed to hit the dart board … right?"

Chyna's mom sounded annoyed. "Darryl – how d' you expect me to do that, when all three dartboards – were ssspinning … and ssspinning … "

"You're right," Darryl admitted. "They were shhpinning. But I counted shixxx … not three!"

"Hehehe, you're ssseeing double! Oh look! A couch!"

Roxanne dove for the couch, but completely missed it. Chyna winced as she felt the resounding thud on the floor.

Her dad laughed. "Sshilly! The couch is right over here!" He walked right over to where he thought the couch was, but then he ended up tripping right over his wife.

He fell hard on the floor, but hardly reacted, except to say, "I thought the coush would've been a lot more comfortable."

"That's me you're lying down on! Geroff me!"

"Hold still, couchy."

Just then, Cameron walked in, munching on a bag of chocolate snacks.

Chyna asked Cameron, concerned about her parents, "Just how much did they have to drink?"

Cameron laughed. Some of the chocolate bits dribbled off his mouth. "Nothing! It's 15 dollars for a shot of liquor around here! I told the bartender just to keep giving them shots of cola and tell them that it's coke and rum. It gave me more money to buy more important things, like these snacks!" He said, as he munched happily on his chocolate.

Chyna stepped closer and whispered, "So they're … completely sober?"

"Sober as a priest on Easter Sunday! But don't tell them yet. I want to get some of this on tape!"

"But Olive has me locked out of my room. I need Dad to help me get her out!"

Cameron looked very confident and self - assured. "That's it? You don't need Dad for that. Watch how a pro handles these things."

He strode confidently to the door, and knocked firmly on the door twice. "Olive, I want you to come out of the door right this instant!" He warned.

"No!"

"Oh well. I tried," Cameron said cheerily. He walked back to pick up the bag of chocolate bits he put down.

"Yes, Cameron, you're a real pro." Chyna deadpanned.

Chyna stared at the door, which was closed and definitely going to stay closed. She was so frustrated. She wished that she could kick the door down … or something.

Her phone rang.

She looked at the ID –

It was Fletcher. She picked it up.

"Hey, Chyna!"

"Hey Fletcher…" Chyna returned, a little uncertainly. His voice was oddly cheery.

"How's it going with Olive?" He asked.

"Not good. She still has me locked out of my room – "

"That's great!" Fletcher exclaimed. He hadn't listened at all.

"Can you meet downstairs, in the lobby?" He asked.

Chyna spied her brother drawing doodle marks on the faces of her sleeping parents, who were sprawled on the floor. "Sure, it's not like I have anything better to do."

There Fletcher was. Chyna spotted him in front of the concession stand, which was pretty much smack dab right in the thick of the lobby. As she made her way through, people all around her were coming and going – some towing luggage and ready to check in, and others dressed up and ready to head out.

A group of boys and girls – the oldest probably wasn't more than 5 years older than she was, and the youngest maybe a couple years older – were dressed in sleek, dark jackets and party dresses. Chyna could feel their energy come in waves at her as they walked by, in laughter and high spirits.

One of the boys spotted Fletcher as the group walked by. Very randomly, the boy gave Fletcher a head nod and put out a fist for Fletcher to dap. Fletcher dapped him, and then said something to the boy that Chyna was too out of earshot to hear. All the boys in the group coolly nodded their approval as they continued to make their way for the entrance, which Chyna had to smirk at.

About four years ago those same boys probably wouldn't have hesitated to stuff him in a locker, or shove his head up a tuba –

Fletcher had just turned his head at her direction when she approached the concession stand.

From the jump, Chyna could already feel that something was up. When Fletcher spotted her, she noticed how he fumbled the change in his hand as he handed it to the concession guy, and the roundness of his eyes as he locked sight with her.

"Chyna! Hey!" His voice was strong, and so cheery that it seemed fake.

"Hey…Fletcher," she returned, not knowing what else to say at first. Then, searching for something, anything to say, she said, "So … what was that about? With those boys?"

She gestured in the direction the group of teens had gone in.

Fletcher relaxed. Just a bit.

"Oh that? They just thought my sneakers were cool. That's all." Fletcher gestured to his sneakers. They were almost typical, regular Vans … except Chyna noticed dashes of Fletcher's trademark art on the canvas of the shoes – patterns of different colors that mixed just right and made the sneakers look 50 dollars more expensive.

She would buy those sneakers.

"Yea, they are," she agreed.

Fletcher smiled, and all too fast, she was caught up in his lopsided smile and clear, blue eyes. Not to mention that messy hair of his …

Chyna cleared her throat. "So why'd you call me down here?" She asked, in a much more demanding voice than she intended.

And just like that, Fletcher was back to looking all … jittery again.

"Ohh yea! I forgot I called you here – nothing really, I just wanted to hang and chill with my friend – nothing at all – by the way, how'd it go with Olive?"

"Not so well. Olive wouldn't let me in my room still. I've never seen Olive this mad with me before. It's starting to make me upset."

Fletcher stepped closer to her. He was so close, she could smell his breath – he smelled of orange juice and raspberry gum.

He grabbed her shoulders. "Upset how? On a scale from 1- 10, how would you rate it?" The way he had asked the question, it was as if his life depended on the answer.

"Um, I don't know …. 5? I mean before I would've said it was about a 9 but, after thinking about it, the whole thing was kinda, sorta my fault. If I'd been smarter about it…"

"What happened? And oh, before I forget, here's a stick of gum – Winterfresh – your favorite."

"Oh thanks, Fletcher! Hey! Are you trying to say my breath stinks?"

"Um, um, no – not at all! It's just that I always noticed you chewing gum before you sing in your school plays and local concerts. It seems to always calm you down, whether you're nervous, or you're in a really bad mood…"

Fletcher eyed her warily.

"No, I'm not."

"Oh, good!" The instant relief in Fletcher showed.

"I'm touched, even … I didn't think you'd notice that kinda stuff."

"Oh, trust me. I notice everything about you."

Seconds stretched without Chyna saying anything. She heard, and registered, but her mind couldn't quite come up with a good response. Was it possible? Was there a part of him…that still liked her?

Her silence seemed to make Fletcher more antsy –

"Anyway!" He said. "I got – I bought like 4 packs of Winterfresh. So in case – you feel like you need one – feel free!"

He hastily crammed the packs of gum into the hands of a bewildered Chyna.

"So can you bring me up to date on the whole Angus – Olive thing?" He asked.

Finally, something to talk about without having to think. It was a nice change of pace…

"Ah. So she did tell you it was about Angus."

"Yea. But not much else."

"So let me start from the beginning…"

"So let me get this straight. You ran into Angus the other day – "

"Yep."

"He told you all about how he was going to leave Webster High by next week – "

"Uh-huh."

"You went a whole day without telling Olive – "

"Right again."

"She ran into him. Tonight. He broke her heart. And she's mad at you for not telling her about Angus right away."

"Pretty much sums it up," Chyna said sadly.

"Well, I can't say I blame her. I'd be mad at you too!" Fletcher exclaimed.

"Hey! I panicked, okay? You know how Olive gets when she gets mad. She gets all bug – eyed and kinda scary. And then when she gets really mad, she gets – "

"Sad." Fletcher finished for her.

"It just breaks my heart when she gets all depressed. It's just … so weird to see her like that."

Fletcher nodded in understanding, and to Chyna's surprise, slipped his hand in hers –

The warmth of his hands…it sent a tingle up her back. She felt heat rise to her cheeks, and a smile found itself on her face, despite everything. She locked gaze with Fletcher, who seemed to realize what he'd done. He withdrew his hand, and Chyna's heart dropped.

He must've meant the hand-holding as a platonic gesture, she reasoned. Nothing more to look into there. Nothing at all…

"You know, that right there, was a perfect Polaroid moment."

Chyna turned to the source of the voice – a handsome, twenty something year old in a red waiter uniform. He flashed them with a dazzling, mischievous smile from behind a quartet of red velvet ropes that sealed off dozens of umbrella tables crammed outside on the street.

She realized, with a startle, that they weren't at the Diamond anymore. Apparently, while they were talking, they had strayed far, far from the hotel area. Chyna opened her eyes and senses to a hubbub of human activity –

Downtown 10th Ave wasn't quite as glamorous as uptown, but it was definitely busy.

It didn't seem to matter where she turned. She spotted nothing but restaurants, bars and lounges everywhere. There was about twenty different restaurants crammed onto her block alone -

Across the street, dozens of tiny thrift stores with merchandise on tables spilled out onto the streets -

There was a park. If you could call it one. It was just a corner spot with stone pavement, a couple benches, and a few trees. A lone slide and swing set stood in the back where patches of grass and flowers grew. A whole bunch of twenty somethings sat where they could and chatted it up. Others were happy to stand as they mingled -

Across the street, she could see long lines of also twenty somethings. They entered clubs in groups of threes and fours as bouncers let them through. On the same block, people of different ages were forming a line for a food truck settled in the corner -

Chyna had to admit she was impressed. There were about a hundred different things going on here in this downtown intersection.

"Strayed a little far from home, I take it?" The waiter was still smirking.

"Something like that," Chyna answered, with a smile. "Fletcher and I, we were just talking, and then we found ourselves here…" She trailed off lamely.

"I see. Well, since you guys are here. Might as well stick around. There's something for everybody around here, especially for couples."

A shrill voice cut through the chattering in the restaurant backdrop. "Waiter! We need more water, please!"

The waiter cringed visibly at the super sharp voice. "And my night was going so quietly, too," He said. He looked to Chyna and Fletcher, "Well, have a great night, you two." He shot them a slick wink.

He was leaving, when Fletcher blurted, "She – I – we're not really going out – !"

But the waiter was already out of earshot.

Jeez, Chyna winced. No need to scream it out…

Fletcher appraised her. "You look upset, Chyna. Was it something that the waiter said?"

It had nothing to do with what the waiter said…nothing at all. Honestly, she felt embarrassed to broach the topic with Fletcher. What would he think? If he found out, after all this time …

She thought back to the dance back in Japan, 5 months ago, when Fletcher had accused her of being jealous. What would he think if he learned that nothing changed?

"How about we just get back." She said, wanting to avoid this conversation –

She turned and headed uptown, before Fletcher could say anything.

"Chyna – oof – wait up!"

Fletcher had caught up to her fast. But she'd resolved to keep on walking, no matter what. For blocks they walked. Less restaurants, bars and clubs filled the streets, and more townhouses and condos popped up.

Eventually –

Chyna felt his hand grip his arm.

"Chyna, please."

"Listen, Fletcher – "

Chyna had spun back around, but Fletcher had kept walking. The two collided. She felt two impacts. The first was when her back hit the pavement. The second, when his forehead smacked hers –

The pain was momentary. But the next seconds, well – it felt like an eternity.

Chyna became aware of the smell of raspberry gum, the coolness of his breath, his weight on top of hers. Their noses were touching. She froze –

She didn't know why. Was she waiting for something?

All too soon, his weight had lifted off of her. She felt free to move. Gingerly, she got up.

"Chyna, are you ok?" Concern flooded into his voice.

She nodded numbly.

"Good. Now you can tell me what that was about?" He demanded. His voice hit a pre-pubescent pitch.

She looked into his bewildered eyes.

"Fletcher … "

Honestly, she didn't know where to start. It was all so complicated.

No.

She was lying to herself. It wasn't complicated at all.

It could all be summed up in one very simple idea, if she was being honest with herself…

Chyna Parks was still jealous of Janice Takahashi, and she didn't know how to explain that to Fletcher.

If only she had the power to take back that first day, on the boardwalk…

"Well? Are you going to say something?" Fletcher pressed, but not in a harsh manner. He leaned toward her, his eyes a little more focused than she remembered it being in a while.

"Fletcher … I don't know if you'll understand - "

Her voice was locking up.

A feeling of nerves shook her that rivaled even her worst pre – concert jitters …

But then Chyna was saved from the moment –

From behind them, a banging of trash cans against a dumpster, and a slamming of a door –

A lone figure was recovering underneath a long purple awning. He was slowly getting up, as if dazed. Chyna couldn't really make out his face because of the subtle lighting on this block – there were just the lantern lamps on the townhouses and a single lamppost that cast its light on the awning –

But his height, the lankiness of him, and the goofy "Oof!" when he tripped over a fallen trash bin –

"Chad? What in the world are you doing here?"

Chad Dylan Cooper fought to straighten himself from his near fall. Instant recognition registered on his features as he caught sight of Chyna.

"Chyna!" He waved excitedly at Chyna. Then he caught sight of Fletcher, "Hey, love of Chyna's life!"

Fletcher turned to Chyna, "What'd he just say?"

Chyna's smile was strained. "No idea! Knowing Chad, he probably said something about loving his life!"

"Cuz it just sounded like he said – "

"Anyway! Let's go see what Chad's doing here! This should be good!"

Chyna and Fletcher ran up to Chad together, and surprisingly – he ran to meet them halfway. The moment they were in talking distance, Chad was already rambling – about what, Chyna had no clue at first. "It's perfect – actually – " he panted, " - that you guys are here. I'm going to need your help."

He looked to Chyna. "You are going to be my client. You're my star singer that's going to open for the headliner. What you're wearing – it's good – it looks like you're ready to go out there and perform – "

He looked to Fletcher. "You. Uhh, you can be my brother – you can back me up on everything I say."

Fletcher made a face, and Chad noticed –

"Yea, I know." Chad said. "People might think I'm a little too good looking to be related to you. But let's just go with it!" He smiled.

Chyna stopped Chad before he could continue. "We're really surprised to see you, but uhh – you don't look as surprised to see us."

"Well, I know you're here because you're doing a show at Madison Square Garden. I feel so sorry, that you're opening for Nicki Starr, by the way!"

"Thanks…I think."

"Anyway, I'm here because I'm representing Condor Studios at the Nooby Entertainment Convention. You didn't know that?"

"Um…what?"

"Oh for crying out loud! How can you not know? It's only the biggest event in the world for tweens and families, well – next to the D23 Expo that Disney holds every year. I'm supposed to be one of the biggest draws at the NEC!"

"Sorry?" Chyna said. Given everything that happened today, Chyna found it really hard to care.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter. See that lounge?" He gestured to the building with the long purple awning and the red carpet underneath it. For the first time, Chyna saw the gold, cursive lettering stitched on the front of the awning. It read Chi's.

"I need to get in there." There was a sense of desperation in Chad's voice. "But they're not letting me in there again. And they got a tip to watch out for a single guy in funny disguises. So it's going to be really hard to get back in. Unless you guys do me this really huge favor and help me out."

"Pretty please? Pretty pretty please?" Chad was on his knees now.

"Just what's in there that you want so bad?" Fletcher asked.

Chad's self absorbed mega movie star exterior had completely fallen to the wayside. He looked at Fletcher with a face of such stark sadness that it shocked Chyna.

"My ex – girlfriend."