Disclaimer: I don't own The Lost Boys or anything recognizable associated with it. I only own my characters and the plot of this story.
4. The Painting
Wendy Valentine couldn't be more annoyed with the human race.
She was under the impression that grocery shopping after eight pm wasn't a common pastime but clearly she was mistaken because the Mini Mart down the block from her apartment had at least a third of Santa Carla's entire population swarming its aisles like it was a fire sale and everything must go.
The store didn't even have very good deals and it wasn't the biggest shop in southern California. The only reason Wendy even went to it was because it was shortest distance she had to walk and all of her coupons had a Mini Mart stamp in the upper left corner. She had every intentions of doing a quick basic necessities shopping spree while all the families and suburban house wives and middle-aged men who always made that late beer run were elsewhere. But they weren't elsewhere. They were all crowded down aisle five herding the paper plates which was exactly where Wendy needed to be.
"This is unbelievable," she muttered, being shoved once again by someone stomping past her to retrieve plastic ware.
Where did they all come from? The store wasn't even that popular. Did Santa Carla even have this many people? She considered the possibility that most of them were tourists. Every few months or so the city saw an influx of people who felt the need to visit for reasons Wendy did not understand. There were better cities to see that were much more picturesque, not to mention clean, such as Malibu or San Francisco or Hollywood. Maybe not so much the last one in terms of clean, but it had a giant sign on a grassy hill and wasn't that good enough?
Since it was already mid-July tourist season made sense, but seriously. Why did everyone feel the need to get paper plates right this second?
Wendy waited impatiently at the end of the aisle with her little basket of goodies. After Quincy's shift at the auto shop he all but collapsed on the couch the second he got home, leaving Wendy to fend for herself. She'd only been off work about an hour when he finally graced her with his presence and being the nice sister that she regrettably was, she'd been waiting for him to get home so they could come up with a game plan for dinner. When she'd asked him what he wanted, she'd received a muffled snore in response as his face was stuffed in one of the throw pillows. Realizing he was going to be absolutely no help, she decided she'd make a quick stop at the store to buy some things they needed before grabbing takeout somewhere.
She'd snatched up a wad of cash from Quincy's room before leaving. He could pay for his own damn food.
Realizing there was no hope for a reprieve just yet, Wendy gave any annoyed sigh and made to turn around and find somewhere else to linger, only to slam directly into another body with an oof.
A handful of items scattered on the floor and it took a few seconds for the shock of the impact to wear off before Wendy realized she actually hit someone. With her basket. And that someone was currently kneeling on the floor trying to organize all their things that she'd knocked out of their hands.
"Oh my god," Wendy stuttered once her brain reconnected to her mouth. She quickly dropped to the floor in front of the person, which turned out to be a girl with wavy dark hair, and helped her gather her things. "I am so sorry, I wasn't even paying attention to where I was going," she babbled. "I should've looked and saw you there, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," the girl said, laughing a bit to ease the tension despite Wendy's moment of self-loathing. "I guess it was partially my fault for thinking I could carry all of this."
"I'm so sorry," Wendy said again, but this time with less hysteria. The girl raised her head to look at her and there was a fleeting moment of recognition that whirred to life in Wendy's brain. Something about the girl's dark skin and sweet smile felt familiar to her but she couldn't figure out why. Maybe they went to school together?
"It's fine," the girl laughed fully this time, flashing a mouth full of white teeth. With Wendy's help the two managed to rearrange the items in the girl's arms and carefully they stood. The girl looked down at her haphazard pile of frozen dinners, drugstore makeup, cookies, and half-gallon jug of fruit punch. "Maybe I should get a basket for this."
"Let me help you," Wendy insisted, still feeling guilty.
The girl accepted her help and Wendy jogged to the front of the store where she grabbed an empty basket near the door. The clerk at the counter gave her the stink eye when he saw the full basket of unpaid goods she was hurtling towards the exit but she quickly flashed him an innocent smile and meekly lifted the other basket to which he pursed his lips at. She hurried back to the girl and held the basket out for her to place her things in.
"Thanks," the girl said, relieved to empty her full arms.
"Is anything broken?" Wendy asked, peering down at the miscellaneous items.
"I don't think so," the girl said, looking too. Wendy breathed a sigh of relief. The girl moved the basket handles to the crook of her arm and smiled again at Wendy before glancing at her basket. "What about yours? Any casualties?"
"Oh," Wendy had all but forgotten about her basket. Aside from the crack in the side of the basket she was not going to be telling the clerk about everything seemed to be in order. "Doesn't look like it."
"Having a late night shop as well?" the girl asked, hovering at the end of the aisle where they collided. Wendy nodded with a suppressed eye roll.
"Yeah. I thought I'd be the only one but as you can see…" she waved her hand around, leaving the other half of her statement unspoken before frowning at the other side of the aisle. "I've been waiting for the paper plates but I'm guessing once that crowd clears there won't be any left. You'd think all those plates were signed by Johnny Cash or something."
The girl's eyes lit up.
"That's where I was going too," she said with a chuckle. "It's usually not this crowded, especially in the middle of the week. I'm a bit of a night owl so I almost always do my shopping then."
Wendy smiled a little before giving the girl a subtle once over.
"So are you from around here?" she asked in what she hoped was a casual tone. She was determined to silence the voice inside her head that told her she knew this girl. It couldn't hurt to make further conversation anyway since they were both waiting for the same thing and the girl seemed fairly pleasant to be around.
"Yeah actually I live up the block in those apartments on the corner," she said, pointing in a vague direction. Wendy's eyebrows shot up.
"Really? The brick building?" the girl nodded with knitted eyebrows and Wendy wanted to laugh at the irony. "I live there too with my brother. Did you recently move in? I don't think I've ever seen you before."
She was almost positive that's not where she'd seen this girl but maybe it was just a fleeting thing once, like passing her while going down the stairs or briefly spotting her in the lobby.
"I moved in about two months ago. I'm going solo for now," the girl shrugged an offhanded shoulder. "I'm in the middle of looking for a roommate," the girl gave her a cautiously optimistic look. "You don't happen know anyone in need of a place to stay that makes at least four hundred a month do you?"
Wendy shook her head apologetically. "No, sorry. All of my friends live with their parents and, well, they don't have to pay any rent," when the girl tilted her head quizzically Wendy explained, "They're all in high school."
The girl nodded in understanding and Wendy mentally crossed off the possibility of knowing her from school. Clearly if she could afford living on her own she was no longer in high school. But the nagging pull in the back of Wendy's head didn't cease and she knew it'd drive her crazy until she figured it out.
Out of her peripherals she noticed the crowd was finally thinning out and she motioned forward.
"Quick before more people come," she whisper-shouted and the girl laughed before speed-walking behind her to the shelf. There were only four bags of plates left.
They hurriedly snatched two up before exchanging secret smiles like they'd just successfully orchestrated an impressive bank robbery. The two naturally fell into step as they headed towards the front of the store where a long line had formed behind the single available register.
"I'm Maria by the way," the girl informed her. Wendy tried not to frown too openly when the name didn't jog a memory.
"Wendy," she replied. Maria grinned.
"Like the restaurant?"
Wendy held back an irritated sigh. "Yep, like the restaurant."
Maria winced at her tone of voice. "You probably get that a lot huh?"
"No," Wendy lied airily, shaking her head slowly. The last thing she wanted to do was complain about the reference of her name to a potentially new friend. "Not really."
Maria arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow disbelievingly.
"I have a cousin named Roxanne and she always gets the, 'You mean The Police's Roxanne?' line all the time. I'm willing to bet more people know about Wendy's than they do The Police."
"It's a real shame if they do," Wendy relented with a careful smile as the line moved up. Maria shook her head with a light laugh.
Eventually they reached the front of the line and Maria was kind enough to let Wendy go first. The clerk gave Wendy a suspicious leer and she tried to give him a cheerful smile right back as she set her basket on the counter but the sheer monotonous look on his face resulted in her smile fading quickly.
After handing him her coupons she paid for her items and hung off to the side until Maria was done. The girl seemed surprised that Wendy waited for her but she didn't appear put off by it and together they walked out of the store. In Wendy's defense it had been a long time since she had a decent conversation with a stranger and Maria seemed like a genuinely nice person. Wendy had never been against making new friends, she was just wasn't very good with the execution. Hence the reason she'd had the same friend since freshman year, not that there was anything even remotely wrong with Naomi.
"So you're in high school?" Maria asked as they made their way up the hill to their building.
Wendy nodded. "I'm seventeen. I'll be a senior this year."
"Nineteen," Maria motioned to herself. "I took off after high school. Not that there was anything wrong with where I lived," she hastily corrected before Wendy had the chance to react. "I just felt like I needed to be somewhere else. I spent my nineteenth birthday in my first apartment in the city, which ended up costing too much in the long run, and even though it was my first birthday alone it was the first birthday I actually enjoyed because I finally felt like my own person."
"Wow," Wendy remarked, eyebrows lifted. "That sounds really brave. I don't think I could ever just leave home like that."
"I didn't think I could either," Maria noted. "But once I did, I was glad. I felt like it was time to take risks."
"What do you think of Santa Carla so far? I've got to be honest, it wouldn't have been my first choice," Wendy grinned lightly. Maria laughed.
"I like it. I like being near the beach and the nightlife is pretty cool. I couldn't afford to live in Santa Monica," she explained and Wendy nodded in understanding. Santa Carla was like the cheap, messier knock-off of Santa Monica except with more carnies and less nightclubs. "I've mostly been on my own though. I'm still looking for a job which is hard because I don't have any job experience. I met these two girls a couple weeks ago and they've been nice. We don't talk much but they invited me to the movies with them once."
Wendy almost dropped her bags as recognition struck her.
The movies.
A vivid image of a girl with brown hair and lovely dark skin smiling secretly at a certain curly-haired boy as she walked with her friends down the hall to her theater flashed in Wendy's mind. The boy, who Wendy finally remembered was Marko, watched her go before Paul, his 'brother', slapped him on the back. The girl had been Maria – that's where she knew her from!
But what made Wendy's heart plummet into her stomach was the fact that Maria seemed to know those boys, or at least Marko. And from what Wendy heard they all seemed to have arrived in Santa Carla around the same time. It could've been a coincidence but Wendy had her fair share of those tonight so it made the possibility seem slim. How well did Maria know them? Were they all friends or did she just know Marko? Something about those boys unsettled her (Naomi mocked her once by asking if her 'spidey senses were tingling') and she could only hope Maria knew what she was getting herself into by associating with them.
"That's good," Wendy replied in a strained voice when she realized she hadn't said anything. "At least you're making friends."
"I suppose," mused Maria, oblivious to the way Wendy had stiffened. "I'm hard-pressed to find a place that'll hire me which is probably the most frustrating. I tried the mall, which is where I met those girls, and I applied at two stores but haven't heard back from them."
"Have you tried restaurants?" Wendy asked, trying to shake her discomfort off.
"A few but none of them seem to be hiring," Maria frowned. That made sense to Wendy because most food joints hired teenagers and chances were all of the summer jobs had been snatched up the moment school let out.
"You could try the boardwalk," Wendy said though she loathed suggesting it. "My brother works there but his job isn't really ideal. He runs the rides and tears tickets. You can try some of the gift shops there though and I think there's a few clothing stores."
"Maybe I will," Maria smiled appreciatively.
They eventually reached the front entrance of their building and with each other's help they got the doors open. The two made for the stairs, both inwardly wishing the place had an elevator, and hauled themselves up the first round of steps.
"Which floor are you on?" Wendy asked her.
"Second."
"That's right below us," said Wendy. They circled up the second flight of stairs. "Maybe one day if you're bored you can come up to ours for dinner or something," she paused as she mentally envisioned the state of their apartment and the foul reminder of who her roommate was. "On second thought, maybe you shouldn't."
Maria grinned. "You said you lived with your brother right?"
"Unfortunately."
"I'm guessing he's not the best apartment buddy?"
"A pterodactyl would be a better apartment buddy."
Maria tossed her head back and laughed.
They finally made it to the second floor and Maria branched off from the stairs to her front door that was only a few feet away. It took some rearranging of the bags hanging from her arms before she had a free hand to fish her keys out of her pocket. Once she got her door unlocked, she tossed Wendy a quick smile.
"Dinner with you and your brother would be nice," she said as she held the door open with the toe of her shoe. "As much as I like being on my own I'm not a fan of being lonely."
Wendy nodded with a smile. "I'll come up with something then. Maybe on a day my brother's conveniently not there."
Maria chuckled. "Whatever works for you. I'm free pretty much whenever so just give me a knock and let me know."
Wendy tried to wave with her arm tucked through three bags, probably making herself look awkward.
Heaving a deep breath she ascended the next flight of stairs once Maria waved back, noting with distain that the other girl was clearly in better shape than she was because she hadn't been panting like a sumo wrestler in a sauna after climbing the first set of stairs. Wendy grunted as she reached her floor and practically dragged her feet to her apartment. Shuffling around much like Maria had, it was a struggle for her to unlock their door and when she finally managed to turn the lock she had to force the door open with her knee and lug all the bags through the narrow doorframe.
The noise must've woken Quincy who bleared up at her with horrible bedhead from the couch, creases decorating the side of his face.
"Thanks for the help," she drawled, kicking the door shut behind her. Quincy groaned and stretched as she sat all the bags on the counter after shoving random items out of the way. Rubbing his eyes Quincy sat up on the couch and squinted in her direction, smacking his lips together.
"What's for dinner?"
Wendy went rigid as cold realization hit her.
She forgot to buy food.
"These look amazing," Wendy marveled with awe.
She was sitting in Naomi's basement several days later with the girl in question covered in paint-splattered overalls. Naomi invited her over to see her progress on her paintings and if it hadn't been obvious to Wendy before that Naomi was talented, it was now.
She had four paintings finished and one in the works. The ones that were finished consisted of a sunset portrait of the beach with the setting sun reflecting on the water, a beautifully detailed night portrait of the Los Angeles skyline that had to have been taken from memory, a lovely garden full of water color consisting of baby's breath and cherry blossoms, and the last a dazzling portrait of the Santa Carla boardwalk full of rich colors and black silhouettes of mingling carnival goers. The one she was in the midst of finishing was a black and white painting of her mother from a profile view.
She'd been talking about selling her paintings for weeks with the exception of her mother's portrait, which was apparently one of the reasons she called Wendy over.
"I finally have a slot at the boardwalk," Naomi told her after sitting her colors down. She grinned excitedly over at Wendy, her knees bouncing up and down so fast they were almost blurry. "I'm going to finally sell them. Gary's coming over soon with his Dad's truck so we can drive the table over there with the paintings."
Wendy's face split into a large smile. "Naomi, that's so exciting! I'm so happy for you!"
She jumped up to give her friend a hug and Naomi laughed as she returned it. When they pulled back Wendy gave her another smile.
"If I could I'd buy one of them from you," Wendy admitted, feeling a bit upset that she didn't have the money. Naomi waved her comment off.
"Don't sweat it. Once your birthday rolls around I'll paint something for you," she winked. Wendy clasped her hands together as Naomi went into detail about how the night was going to go. "So my setup is going to be next to the face painting – I know right? Perfect placement – and I get two hours. I'm going to bring the four big paintings along with a few smaller ones that way there's more of a variety. Gary has to work at the gym but he said he'd be able to pick me up after."
"This is so awesome," Wendy grinned. "What did your Dad say when you told him?"
Naomi shrugged. "He was happy for me. He's never been against my painting, he just wishes I'd go for something more stable I guess."
"Like a detective," Wendy surmised. Naomi lifted a shoulder.
"At least he supports me no matter what I do. I don't know if I could take the rejection if he didn't. He loved the painting I gave him of his old horses last year for Father's Day. I think it's one of the first times I've seen him almost cry," Naomi chuckled. Wendy knew which painting she was talking about. She always saw it hanging in their living room above the couch.
"Well your paintings are just that good," Wendy complimented. Naomi looked chagrinned.
"Hopefully the people of Santa Carla will like them as much as my Dad did," she said with a hint of worry. Wendy was quick to reassure her.
"They will," she said, sounding sure of it. Naomi looked doubtful but no less eager.
"Do you want to come with?" Naomi asked as she put away her paint for the night. "As happy as I am I don't think I could handle it alone. I kind of feel like I'm being thrown to the sharks."
"I'd love to," Wendy smiled before her expression became sly. "Tonight's the night that people in the artistic community are going to revere the name Naomi Watson."
"Right," Naomi snorted, cleaning out her brushes.
"Just you wait," Wendy said, turning up her nose as if to look posh. "In another five years your autograph will be worth millions."
Naomi looked properly affronted. "You really think it'll take five years? Your faith in me hurts."
Wendy shrugged innocently. "Maybe only four."
"Thanks Wendy," Naomi narrowed her eyes but there was a smile playing on her lips.
"I'm here for you, buddy."
Wendy helped Naomi carry the finished paintings up the stairs. They laid them against the wall in the hallway next to the front door and not a minute later a horn sounded out front. Naomi threw open the door and waved at Gary before shouting that she'd be out in a minute. She ran to her room to get changed in hopes of looking less like a kindergarten finger painting class threw up on her and Wendy slipped into the living room where Joseph Watson was sitting on the couch watching TV.
"You're home early," Wendy noted. Mr. Watson looked over at her and offered a tired smile.
"For the first time in my life," he grunted. "How's your job holding up?"
He liked to sound gruff but it was mostly a front, a practice most likely taken on by the man after years of working with the law. Underneath he was a giant teddy bear who treated Wendy like she was his own daughter. She was incredibly fond of Naomi's Dad.
"Good," Wendy ran a hand through her long hair, twirling a few strands that rested over her shoulder absently. "It's busy but what more can you expect from the summer?"
Mr. Watson nodded. "How's that brother of yours?"
"Still a troublemaker," Wendy smiled a little.
Naomi's father was a pretty big fan of Quincy's, a fact that neither Wendy nor Naomi could ever wrap their heads around. Local law enforcement usually had Quincy at the top of their hit list but not Mr. Watson. Wendy suspected it was the love the two shared for cars. Whenever they happened to be in the same room together, which wasn't often, they always talked mechanics. It was a bunch of mumbo jumbo Wendy couldn't even pretend to understand but both men seemed passionate about it nonetheless. Well, the one man and then Quincy.
Mr. Watson asked a few more questions about Quincy and was in the middle of reading Wendy his typical 'be safe and don't talk to strangers' spiel when Naomi reappeared, sans paint marks and overalls.
"What do you think the prices should be?" Naomi asked as she adjusted her ponytail before clarifying, "Of the paintings."
Wendy didn't have a clue but Mr. Watson felt the need to add his own two cents.
"Your paintings are priceless to me, honey," he told her in a tone that was sure to embarrass her. It worked.
"That's really not what I'm going for, Dad," she argued with pink cheeks.
Mr. Watson rolled his eyes good-naturedly and Wendy cracked a grin.
"You two be safe," he called a few minutes later, following them out the door as they loaded the paintings and foldable table into the bed of Gary's pickup truck. "Stay close to the crowds. We had a meeting at the precinct today about how the percentage of missing persons has gone up twelve percent from last year. We don't want either of you two to become a statistic."
"Noted, Dad."
Wendy offered the balding man a fleeting smile. "We'll be careful, Mr. Watson."
"Be home at eleven," he flashed his daughter a stern look and she seemed exasperated with his parenting but nodded anyway. She danced up to her father and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Love you, Dad!"
Naomi dragged Wendy into the passenger seat of the pickup truck cramming them both onto one cushion and Mr. Watson waved as Gary pulled out onto the road, slowly disappearing in their rearview mirror. Gary had the radio on lowly and Wendy could hear the muffled beat of a drum and a harmonic hum echo from his uneven speakers. As if hearing her thoughts, Naomi reached across and turned the volume up as Wendy rolled down the window. The warm nighttime air filtered into the car with the melodic hymn of The Beach Boys echoing out onto the road.
Wendy's hair blew chaotically in the wind as the salty scent of the sea filled her sinuses, the air cooling as they approached the ocean on their winding road. The sun hadn't quite set beneath the horizon yet, glowing in hues of diluted oranges and pinks looking much like the painting Naomi had strapped in the back of the truck. Wendy admired the view with her arm stretched out the window, their speed forcing gusts of wind between her spread fingers. She could hear the music from the boardwalk faintly from where they were at, its sparkling lights slowly coming into view as the truck circled around a hill.
When they pulled into the parking lot Naomi was all smiles. Wendy was almost trampled out of the passenger seat as Naomi hurried to get her paintings out of the bed. With Gary's help Wendy pulled the table down from the truck and they followed Naomi to her spot where a bunch of kiosks where set up with jewelry, handmade skirts and fake tattoos. The woman running the face painting stand was working on a lovely flower piece on a little girl's cheek as Wendy and Gary unfolded the table. Naomi had a few stands tucked away to holding the paintings in place on the table and she grabbed a sticky note and pen out of her purse to write the prices down.
After getting a kiss, Gary waved to Wendy and disappeared in the crowd as he headed off to a quick cover shift at the gym. Naomi slapped the prices on the corner of each painting – the larger ones $50 each and the smaller ones $20 – before bouncing on the balls of her feet in anticipation. Wendy had to bite back a laugh.
"You know," Wendy mused as she admired the paintings on display. "I'm going to be kind of sad to see them go. They're so lovely."
Naomi regarded them with a thoughtful look. "Me too. But look at this way: the next ones I make will probably be a lot better than these and they'll be even lovelier to look at. If I actually manage to sell these in the first place."
"Even if you don't, which you will, do you really think you'd stop painting?" Wendy asked, leaning against the table.
Naomi's lips twisted. "Probably not. It's kind of an addiction at this point."
"Better than being addicted to drugs or something," Wendy pointed out and Naomi laughed a little.
"Do you really think I'll sell any?" she sounded unsure as she bit her lip, playing with her fingers in her lap and Wendy's heart sank. It wasn't often she saw Naomi in a mood other than happy or optimistic and when she did it made her realize how much of a light spirit Naomi usually was. Pessimism didn't look good on her. Wendy placed a comforting hand on Naomi's shoulder.
"You will," Wendy promised.
And it didn't take long before she did. A man in his early thirties seemed to really appreciate one of her smaller paintings and he was quick to snatch it up before anyone else could. He handed Naomi a twenty and thanked her before skirting off, the painting tucked delicately under his arm. Naomi exchanged a gleeful look with Wendy, clutching the twenty dollar bill tightly in her fist as she basked in the afterglow of her first sale.
"I just sold one of my paintings," she said, voice trembling with delight. "I just made a profit off of something I created."
"Isn't it wonderful being you?" Wendy grinned, her cheeks nearly sore from smiling with pride.
"It so is," Naomi agreed and the two squeezed hands.
She sold two more paintings quickly after – another small one and the one with the Los Angeles skyline. Naomi had a moment after she counted the ninety dollars she'd earned so far, nearly squeezing Wendy's arm off with delight. Wendy congratulated her through her pain, rubbing the tender skin once Naomi was distracted by the bills. After that there was a bit of a lull in the crowd, the screams from the roller coaster and other carnival rides echoing off the wooden boards beneath them. Naomi seemed satisfied with just sitting at the table admiring her work and Wendy became distracted by the face painter who was drawing an intricate blue pattern on someone's temple.
"Look who it is," a voice interrupted Wendy's trance and she blinked, turning her gaze to find a head of wild blonde hair. Goosebumps rose along her flesh and she sat up a bit straighter. "Hi, Wendy Darling," Paul grinned, his bejeweled hand twinkling under the neon lights.
Wendy's brows wrinkled. "What are you doing here?"
The accusation in her voice was unintentional but Paul didn't seem bothered by it, his dark eyes flashing. She was momentarily thrown by it until she rationalized it was probably just a trick of the light. You're being paranoid, she reminded herself. Just keep it cool.
"Just browsing," he said, studying the paintings. A girl nearly half his height stood alongside him with shiny black hair and dark tights. Wendy recognized her to be the girl she usually saw with the brunette. Was his name Dwayne? "These yours?"
"No, they're hers," Wendy gestured to Naomi who had been giving Paul an open-mouthed stare ever since he approached. He flashed Naomi a grin in response who shrunk back as if the dazzling way he smiled caused her to physically recoil.
"They look nice," he remarked, leaning forward to get a closer look at them, though he only seemed half-interested. The girl with him hummed in agreement, her arms tucked behind her back as she rocked from side to side as if enjoying the energy around her. Wendy was a bit baffled that Paul had the ability to compliment anyone. The grin still marring his smooth face turned wry almost as if he was able to read her thoughts and Wendy quickly looked away.
"Thanks," Naomi said in a breathy voice, still a bit awestruck by his sudden appearance. It made Wendy want to roll her eyes.
"Where's the rest of your family?" she asked Paul, biting out the word 'family' with her arms crossed. Too many of her senses were tingling at his close proximity for her to decipher them individually. What she did know was that he smelled a bit like cinnamon spice and she couldn't tell if it was giving her a headache or making her mouth water.
"Around," he answered vaguely before shooting Wendy an amused look. "You act as if you don't believe me when I say they're my brothers."
She gave a tiny shrug that she hoped looked aloof and uncaring. "They just don't look anything like you is all."
Paul's grin was sharp. "I can assure you the same blood runs through our veins."
"I see."
Wendy still wasn't completely convinced.
She eyed the girl he was standing with carefully, having never actually seen her up close. Her hair was trimmed in a pixie cut, black as the night sky with deep brown eyes and light freckles adorning her fair cheeks. With her round face and short stature her age was impossible to guess but Wendy assumed she was around Paul's age, though the delicate way she held herself suggested she was younger. How Dwayne handled her without breaking her Wendy would never know. The girl must've sensed Wendy's stare for she turned to meet the gaze evenly and Wendy's first urge was to look away, embarrassed at being caught. Despite her cryptic nature the girl smiled and Paul nudged her harshly with his elbow. Despite a flicker of annoyance she didn't bat an eye.
"That's Jules," he mentioned lazily, staring intently at one of the paintings now with a twinkle of mischief.
"I'm a friend of the family," Jules's smile was still pleasant and Paul snorted at her choice of words. Wendy didn't get the joke but she figured she wasn't supposed to.
"Nice to meet you," Wendy said, unsure if it was actually nice or not but at least the girl seemed pleasant.
To Wendy's shock Paul seemed genuinely interested in one of the paintings and once Naomi became aware of this the frighteningly large grin couldn't be removed from her face even if someone told her Twinkies were being discontinued. The two chatted about the prices – of course Paul had to be one of those guys who asked for the price even though the price was clearly stamped on the corner of the painting – before he handed her the cash and Naomi looked like she was about to burst a vein. Paul picked up the painting of the sunset.
"What do you think?" he asked Jules, holding it out for the two of them to see. "Our place could use a little sun, huh?" he snickered to himself and once again Wendy felt like she was missing the punchline.
"Why do you even want it in the first place?" Jules wrinkled her brows. Wendy would've been offended for Naomi if it wasn't for the fact that Jules appeared to harbor no apparent disgust towards the painting itself, but more towards Paul's crude sense of humor.
"For decoration," Paul stated obviously. "It'll make the place look better, yeah?"
"A trashcan would make the place look better," Jules insulted. Paul wasn't fazed by her verbal abuse.
"How are you going to get that home?" Wendy pointed to the painting. Paul had a bemused look on his face at this so she quickly rephrased, "I mean, you drive bikes don't you? How's that going to fit on a bike?"
Paul's grin was predatory again. "Been watching us, Wendy Darling?"
"No," Wendy denied immediately even though it was clearly a lie. Her cheeks tinted pink and she quickly defended herself. "Those motorcycles are loud, it's not like I could miss them."
"If you hop on the back of mine you could hold onto it for me," Paul suggested, a hint of challenge in his tone. Wendy felt warm and she crossed her arms tighter.
"No thank you," she politely declined.
A smirk prodded the corner of Paul's mouth but before he could further advance the conversation, a large leather-clad arm draped over the front of Jules's chest. Dwayne, the tall brunette, nuzzled the girl's temple as she slinked back against him like a cat, needing no reassurance as to who was really behind her, and Wendy was once again struck dumb by the sudden appearance. His face was much more angular than Paul's up close but his features seemed to have flawless symmetry. She had a feeling if the chart of the perfect human face were to be held up in front of him, all the lines would flow harmoniously with the general shape of his everything.
"How'd it go?" Paul asked, referring to some intangible event that must've taken place prior to Dwayne's arrival.
Dwayne shrugged with a tilt of his lips as if to say 'can't complain'. Paul quirked an eyebrow before holding up the painting again with an impish grin.
"What do you think?" he repeated. Dwayne's facial expression didn't change.
"About what?"
"This," Paul shook the painting. "It's our new wall ornament."
"Childish," Dwayne retorted with a detached sense of amusement. Paul chose to ignore his opinion.
Jules leaned her head back and rubbed her nose against Dwayne's exposed neck. He ran his fingers along her arm and she smiled privately against the skin where his neck and shoulder met. Wendy felt like she was intruding on a private moment as she watched them but there was something enthralling about their behavior, like two beings had never been more in sync. She only looked away when Dwayne's hard eyes met hers and she felt something painful pulse behind her eye sockets.
"Where's Marko?" Dwayne asked after finally pulling his intense gaze away from the side of Wendy's face. Her pulse was racing as her closed fist pressed against her sternum. She felt stifled.
For some reason Paul's eyes flicked to Wendy before returning to Dwayne's so quickly that Wendy wasn't sure it even happened.
"Probably charming the skirt off some girl," he said. The answer didn't seem to surprise Dwayne whose attention was better spent on the pliant girl wrapped in his embrace.
Wendy licked her lips and pushed away from the table after realizing Naomi was engaged in a heated discussion with a woman next to her over one of the paintings. For a moment she felt guilty for trying to slip away but she figured once Paul and Dwayne were otherwise occupied somewhere else she could make a return, hopefully before Naomi realized she was gone. She stepped away from the table but didn't get more than two feet before Paul's nosiness halted her mid-step.
"Going somewhere?" he drawled. Wendy bit the inside of her cheek. On the outside Paul's face was innocently curious but she knew he was enjoying her squirming.
"I just need some fresh air."
"You're already outside," he pointed out.
"I need fresher air," she retorted much to Paul's entertainment before turning away, feeling his stare itch the back of her neck as her feet carried her elsewhere.
She greedily breathed in the scent of popcorn and sugary cotton candy the moment she was out of range of their intoxicating scents, rubbing her arms restlessly as she fought the urge to look over her shoulder to make sure they weren't following her. She had to tell herself that she was once again being paranoid. Mr. Watson's speech back at the house had clearly gotten to her, which was probably his intention all along. Plant the seed and it'd eventually grow. He would've been proud if he could see her now, running away like a cat with their tail between their legs even though she probably had no real reason to. Paul seemed to have the most fun tormenting her in that annoying get-under-your-skin sort of way she only thought Quincy was capable of but there was no evidence that pointed to his words being anything more than harmless teasing.
She knew she was being irrational. She wasn't the most trusting person on the planet but she'd never really met anyone that gave her bad vibes either. She wasn't even sure if what Paul or Dwayne or even Jules gave her were bad vibes, there was just something different about them she couldn't put her finger on. And since she didn't know what that something was, her brain immediately pointed to something bad when maybe it wasn't even bad at all. Wendy used to always been the kind of person who tried not to judge someone before she knew them. She didn't really know when that changed.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Wendy milled about the boardwalk on her own for a while to clear her head. The longer she walked, the less stressed she felt and her head no longer felt like it was swimming.
Just as she was about to start heading back in Naomi's direction, she thought she spotted someone familiar in one of the shop windows. It was the video store with the neon lights and wall of TVs that were currently playing the same five second clip of some music video on loop. A head of dark hair was what caught Wendy's eye and she tilted her head forward inquisitively, stepping forward until she reached the front door.
"Maria?" Wendy asked in surprise.
The girl whose back was turned to the door spun around, her brown locks bouncing away from her face and she smiled when she saw Wendy.
"Wendy, hey!" she greeted before stretching her arms out, "I got a job!"
"That's great," Wendy smiled, stepping up to the counter. "When did you start?"
"Yesterday, actually. I came down here the day after you suggested it and applied at this store and the one next door. The manager hired me almost on the spot," she admitted, wrinkling her eyebrows a bit but seeming no less pleased. "It was so great. I guess I should be thanking you."
Wendy waved her off. "No way, you're the one who got the job. Congrats!"
Maria laughed lightly. "Thanks. Are you here alone?"
"No, my friend's selling some of her paintings on the boardwalk," Wendy jabbed a thumb over her shoulder in Naomi's general direction. "I was just taking a walk when I thought I recognized you. Sorry I haven't been by your place by the way," Wendy winced a little. "I've been swamped with work lately and our apartment kind of looks like a train wreck so not the best first impression, not that it ever looks really nice to begin with but when people come over we like to pretend we're functioning adults."
Maria grinned. "Don't worry about it. My schedule's starting to get booked up too," her grin became a little coy. "I'm really excited about it."
"I bet you are," Wendy laughed. Her eyes scanned the shop briefly, noticing a few customers milling about in the aisles before spotting a dark figure resting against the counter behind Maria. Afraid that it was someone trying to get her attention, Wendy motioned over her shoulder. "Sorry, it looks like you've got someone…"
Her voice faded lightly when Maria moved aside an inch to glance behind her. Wendy was able to recognize that head of curly blonde hair anywhere and when her eyes met the icy blue of Marko's she felt herself go rigid. Maria looked a little chagrinned like she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She quickly shook her head.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" she licked her lips, looking flustered before gesturing between the two of them. "Marko, this is Wendy. She lives in the same building as me. Wendy, this is Marko."
"We've met," Marko said, his gaze flitting casually over Wendy's frozen form. Maria's eyebrows lifted.
"Oh," she said, tone falling flat.
"Only once," Wendy was quick to correct, afraid that she was going to somehow upset Maria with this new information. "He showed up with his brothers at the restaurant I work at. That's all."
"Oh," Maria said again, this time sounding less tense.
Wendy nodded dumbly, wishing a hole would just open up beneath her and swallow her whole. Instead, a man appeared from around the wall of TVs with a box in his hands. Wendy was sure she'd seen him before with his round glasses and plaid shirts. He must've been the owner. He paused when he noticed the line of people hovering near the counter, his eyes sliding from Marko to Maria to Wendy with a hint of suspicion.
"Is everything alright?" he asked after a moment of silence. "Maria, have you restocked the shelves yet?"
"No, not yet but I was getting ready to," she hastily replied, offering him an apologetic smile. The man's face was a blank slate for a solid five seconds before melting into a friendly smile.
"That's alright, but I trust your friend knows you're on the clock and that you have a job to do," he cast a pointed look in Wendy's direction who bit the inside of her lip, feeling appropriately scorned just by the way his eyes narrowed in her direction.
"Right," Wendy nodded. "Of course. Yes. Sorry, I should probably go," she offered Maria a brief wave, feeling equal amounts guilty and awkward, and Maria gave a half-hearted smile. At least she didn't look upset. "I'll see you later."
Wendy was about to back out of the store when she heard the man say, "That means you too."
His words were a bit stiffer as he directed his intense stare at Marko who returned the look with much more ease. He lingered on the counter a moment longer as if to emphasize his defiance before pushing away, tapping his knuckles on the surface. He broke the shared gaze with the man first and his eyes landed on Maria as he circled around the counter, the corner of his lips turning up. Maria gave him a small smile.
Marko reached Wendy where she remained standing for whatever reason in the doorway, effectively blocking the entrance. He nodded his head towards the boardwalk and Wendy stepped outside, her stomach twisting as Marko fell into step with her after casting the store one final glance over his shoulder. He was clad in his colorful jacket full of patchwork, tassels and shredded denim and Wendy was momentarily distracted by it. There were several different skulls sewn onto it along with the word ANARCHY and several other symbols her religious grandmother would've whispered a few Hail Mary's at.
Feeling uncomfortable with the silence that had fallen over them, Wendy cleared her throat before asking quietly, "Where'd you get your jacket?"
The skin between his eyebrows pinched.
"I made it."
"Really?" her eyebrows rose to her hairline. "It's… that's really impressive."
"Next time try to say that without sounding like I'm a cat that just learned how to pee in the toilet," Marko drawled. Wendy's mouth fell open and her heart sank. She quickly shook her head.
"No, I didn't mean—that's not—"
Marko laughed, his teeth flashing under the lights as his eyes crinkled. "I'm just messing with you."
"Oh," Wendy said dumbly, feeling her heart thump in her throat. "Right."
Marko had a small grin on his face like he found something terribly amusing. Wendy noticed the way his lips puckered when he grinned, almost like they were pouting without the actual frown. There was something very youthful and charming about his face that made Wendy's insides flutter and she looked away quickly before he noticed her staring.
She soon came to realize though that she wasn't the only one staring. Marko was turning heads in every direction. It was subtle but not subtle enough; a fleeting look here, a lingering stare there. It wasn't just from people Wendy's age or even girls like Wendy, it was all ages. Some of the looks were suspicious, others simply wary, while a few were curious. It completely wiped everything Wendy convinced herself of before because unless Santa Carla knew something about Marko and his brothers that Wendy didn't, everyone else was as leery as she was about them. And that was weird.
Marko didn't directly acknowledge the stares but it was clear they didn't bother him. That same little grin was still playing on his lips and Wendy wanted to ask what he found so funny but she couldn't build up the courage to breathe loudly, much less form words that made sense. Every time his shoulder brushed up against hers Wendy's face felt hot and she wanted to smack herself for being ridiculous.
"Your heart's beating really fast," he murmured. Wendy gave him a startled look, concerned over the fact that he was actually able to hear it. It certainly wasn't a lie but if a person could physically hear the loudness of her heartbeat wasn't that a sign of an impending heart attack? Or a chest explosion? "You need to relax."
"Everyone's staring," she whispered. She was fully justified in having a loudly beating heart! She hastily added on, "What's so interesting about you that they have to stare? Did you rob a bank?" she squinted at him. "Are you on America's Most Wanted?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Marko quirked a playful eyebrow.
"I'm not crazy," she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. "There's something weird about all of you."
The crowd thinned out and Marko turned to face her under a streetlamp, smirking in amusement at her. Now that they were face to face Wendy realized he wasn't that much taller than her. Her skin felt jittery having him so close but she didn't want to be obvious about taking a step back so she kept the distance short. It didn't help that Marko smelled just as wonderful as his brothers and the exposed skin along his neck and collarbone looked dangerously inviting.
"That's not very nice," he chided lightly. "What's wrong with being weird?"
"Well, nothing, but…" Wendy shook her head. "That's not the point."
"Isn't it?" he tilted his head, the perfect picture of childlike innocence. "You should embrace being weird, Wendy."
The way his lips curled around her name made it sound both alluring and delicious, two words that had never been associated with her before.
"Are you dating Maria?" the words slipped out of her mouth before she even realized she was going to say them. "She's really nice, you know. I mean, I barely know, her but she's nice."
As if the circumstance of her niceness should've warded him off.
"I like nice girls," Marko grinned. "Are you nice, Wendy?" She tried masking her shiver for an itch on her shoulder. "Don't seem like it," Marko continued, his blue eyes studying her with a glimmer of mischief as he rocked on his heels. "You called me weird and you insulted my ability to make pretty clothes."
"I didn't mean it that way," Wendy exclaimed. "It was a compliment! I am a nice person."
"I don't think you are," Marko leaned close and Wendy jerked her head back, nearly hitting the back of her head against the pole. She could feel his breath fan her cheeks and her eyelashes fluttered. "I don't think you realize how not nice you really are."
She had the distinct feeling he was messing with her but she couldn't help but take his comment to heart anyway. Her mouth felt dry and she swallowed quickly, releasing a timid breath when Marko finally pulled away. Naturally a mantra of what did he mean by that? filtered constantly through her mind like a turnstile but she forced a neutral expression on her face, not wanting to show that his words actually got to her. Marko looked a bit like the cat that ate the canary, obviously seeing right through her.
"Okay," she relented, shoulders slumping. Maybe she'd come about this the wrong way. "I'm sorry for calling you weird," she admitted. "That was rude. And I really do like your jacket. It's very unique… like you."
She gauged his reaction carefully, almost frowning when his lips twitched.
"Hmm," he hummed before lifting his eyebrows and turning away.
Wendy watched him walk away, too stunned to immediately react, before she hurriedly chased after him. What did he mean by that?
Wendy was too bewildered to say anything more and Marko was still grinning when they approached Dwayne, Jules and Paul who were beginning to mount their motorcycles at the edge of the boardwalk along the pier. Wendy vaguely noted that their leader, David, was still nowhere to be found.
"There they are," Paul announced when he spotted them, still hanging onto Naomi's sunset painting as he relaxed on his bike, leaning one of his elbows on the wooden beam behind him. "We were just talking about you two. You've both got those adorable angel faces like baby cherubs. Don't they, Dwayne?"
Dwayne lifted an eyebrow but didn't say anything, giving Marko a once over that Wendy was almost certain had nothing to do with the topic at hand.
"Where were you?" Paul asked with a haughty smile. "Sniffing around your lady friend?"
"Shut up," Marko said with no heat. Wendy paused a few feet away as Marko mounted his bike, slapping away Paul's prying hands with a secretive grin. Paul then directed his abuse to Wendy, nodding in her direction with a luring smirk.
"So, how 'bout it? Wanna hitch a ride?" he lifted the painting suggestively but Wendy was too distracted by Marko's piercing gaze to pay his mockery much attention.
"No thanks," she replied offhandedly. Marko smiled slowly.
"I don't think you're the one she wants," Dwayne drawled.
Wendy flushed as the boys barked out laughs, Marko tossing Paul a grin behind his fist as he bit his thumbnail. Once again they made her feel about half her age as they laughed at her and it made her blood boil but the angry look on her face only made them laugh harder.
"Oh stop teasing her," Jules chided, though she was beaming sharply as well.
"Guess you won the wager," Paul tossed the painting to Jules as she swung her leg over Dwayne's bike, crowding against his back while holding the painting with a grudging look of acceptance. "See you 'round, Wendy Darling."
Paul saluted her with a snide chuckle that only managed to irritate her further.
She stepped back as Marko revved his motorcycle, giving her another one of his trademark stares. Just as his back tire kicked up smoke, he reached across his chest and ripped off one of the patches, tossing it at Wendy's feet before lurching after his brothers, Jules holding the painting up above her head as she whooped and howled with them while bystanders quickly darted out of their way.
Wendy watched them go feeling an odd sense of déjà vu before bending down to pick up the patch.
It was a white pair of cloth angel wings.
I got this out sooner than I expected and it's also a lot longer than I expected. Whew. It's eleven and I need to be up in seven hours for work so I'm going to hopefully make it to my bed and pass out. Hope you liked this one! Reviews are always welcome and appreciated. Until next time xoxo