Chapter 4: Revelry
A/N: So, apparently my pup wanted to say hi this chapter. She got all up on my keyboard while I was editing this beast. She may have been going for my toast, but it sounds cooler to say she had a paw in this. (That's cool and not crazy, right?)
As I submit this, I'm sitting in the studio eating cheesecake. Mmmm. Food photography is the best, yo ;)
Are we getting closer,
Or are we just getting more lost?
I'll show you mine,
If you show me yours first.
Let's compare scars
I'll tell whose is worse.
Let's un-write these pages
And replace them with our own words.
Swing Life Away, Rise Against
x.x.x
Bella.
We pulled into a town called Millican around eight o'clock. It was a sleepy little town, and as far as we could tell there was a main street stretching about three blocks, and then not much else. We got a room at a hotel right on the main drag, a tall blocky brick building with a tavern (yeah, a tavern) right next door which appeared to be about the only thing open in town. It was a Friday night, so I knew there was a pretty good chance that there'd be at least a few locals kicking around in there.
We rented one room, which Emmett offered to pay for since we were the kind souls who'd picked his sorry ass up earlier, and neither Jasper nor I declined. Living out of hotels got to be pretty pricey, so if someone was going to offer to pay for us there was no way I was saying no. The room was basic; two double beds, a small black box TV, and a decently clean bathroom with a shower. Oh, and of course there was a brand new, vinyl-covered bible with pages thinner than tissue nestled in the top drawer of the nightstand. Home.
Jasper and I took one bed, the one closest to the bathroom and let Emmett have the other. He offered to sleep on the floor, but since he'd paid and all, I took pity on the big guy and told him Jazz and I didn't mind sharing. I planned on getting pass-out drunk later anyway, so it wasn't going too much of an issue. We tossed our bags on the floor, stretched, looked at each other and then all bolted for the door.
I laughed, reaching the door first, and spun around to face Emmett and Jasper. "Bar?"
They both nodded in agreement. "Bar."
"All right. Ummm." I glanced down at my battered shorts and grey tank-top. "On second thought, I'm gonna change quick. I'll meet you down there."
They nodded and headed out, and I opened up my bag and began rifling through it, trying to find a clean pair of jeans and t-shirt. I really needed to get some damn laundry done. I definitely wouldn't make it much farther on the clean clothes I had left. We'd have to stop somewhere tomorrow maybe. Chances were that Jazz would need to wash a load or two as well.
I dug farther into the suitcase where I thought I'd seen a pair of jeans folded up that morning, when my hand brushed a piece of paper. I froze, exhaling slowly. My fingers twitched against their will, wanting to pull it from where it was nestled under a wrinkled t-shirt.
I tried not to look at anymore. It was one of those things burned into my memory, but my memory was never as good as the real thing. There was a time when I'd take it out every night before I went to bed, just unfold it and stare at it, my finger lightly tracing the fading pencil marks sketched on the wrinkled paper. But it soon became one of those things I'd pushed to the back of my mind, never forgotten but always lurking in the shadows, waiting for me to pull it back out. It was just too fucking hard to look at anymore. Maybe I still hadn't come to face the fact that I'd never see the artist whose long and careful fingers had meticulously crafted the picture before my eyes. I shook my head. No, I only saw him in my dreams anymore, and even now those dreams were few, my memory of him fading with the time.
Last night was the exception – it was the most tangible dream I'd had of him in a long time. I could feel his presence on my skin. But it had been a mistake; a dream and nothing more.
I forced myself to move past it, and finally found a decently clean pair of old blue jeans folded up in the bottom of my suitcase and I freed them, along with an old Rolling Stones concert shirt. The shirt had been my mom's, from when she went to their "reunion" tour in '88. It's fabric was thinning, the colors faded but it was my most comfortable shirt, and my favorite.
I brushed out my hair and rushed out of the room before I could stop myself, my urge to just pull out that stupid drawing and stare at it for the rest of the night growing with each step. I knew it was going to be a fucking good night to drink. Alcohol had always been my friend, buffering my painful past from the present.
A warm evening breeze ruffled my hair as I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans and walked the few steps down the cracked sidewalk to the tavern, reflecting on what a bizarre day it had been. I wondered briefly if Jazz and I were far too trusting to allow a man we'd met only hours ago share a hotel room with us in an unfamiliar little town. Maybe trusting wasn't the right word – perhaps it was more like crazy. Then again, it wasn't the first time I'd questioned our sanity. In fact, it was something I often did on a daily basis. And crazy people didn't question their sanity, did they?
And Emmett hadn't taken us hostage – not yet. And we really had nothing of value he could take from us, not that I had any reason to believe he would. But… maybe I'd sleep with my guitar tonight, just to be safe. I smiled to myself as I wondered what Jasper would say when he was forced to spoon with the Hummingbird.
There were a few people milling about on the street outside the door smoking. I pulled open the heavy door to the bar and smiled at the man inside the door who checked my ID and spotted Emmett and Jasper at a table off to the side of the cramped room.
"About fucking time, Jasper was about to send a rescue crew up," Emmett said as I took a seat. There was a few people scattered around, but it definitely wasn't too busy for a Friday night – unless this was what they considered busy.
"Oh shut up, I'm a big girl," I replied, looking down to see Jasper had already ordered me a drink. "Besides, a lady had to look presentable for her handsome men," I said, laying it on thick.
"Mmm, yes. I see you tried very hard too," Emmett chuckled, eyeing me sarcastically.
"Yeah, well, it's kind of my thing," I shrugged.
"Well it's working for you. Eddie Woodstock over there has been eye-fucking you ever since you stepped foot in here."
I grinned and followed Emmett's gaze to the darkener corner, where a tall, thin man was seated in a booth in the shadows, his eyes on our table. His had long, scraggly dark hair reaching down toward the middle of the back, and his face looked like he'd seen better days.
"That dude's pretty creepy. He's all like… Aragon, or Strider, in the Fellowship."
"Of the Ring?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, Fellowship of the Sun," he said sarcastically. "Yes, of course Of the Ring. You know, at the Prancing Pony."
I rolled my eyes at his snark, but shook my head. "No way," I said firmly. "Aragon's all like, ah I'm a self-sacrificing king with a broken heart and I have to babysit three incompetent midgets. He's, like, all brooding and sexy and whatnot. That dude just looks like walked in a metal pole on his way over here."
"Ah, a match made in heaven," Jasper sighed, obviously referring to my less than stellar coordination.
"I've never walked into a pole," I objected.
Jasper just eyed me.
"Okay, that was once. Besides, you were distracting me and it didn't hurt that bad."
"You bled."
"That's because it was cold!"
"What does the weather have to do with it?"
"Metal hurts more when it's cold," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.
"You know this… from experience?" Emmett asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Bella's very clumsy," Jazz explained.
Emmett let out a loud laugh. "Oh, you're going to be fun."
"I guess, if you're the kind of person to relish in other people's pain."
"It's easier for me to laugh at somebody else's pain than mine. Because when I'm in pain… it hurts."
"Really?" I growled sarcastically, turning away from the guys. I had a feeling this whole 'ganging up on Bella' was going to become a thing. Not cool. I stared across the bar, attempting to ignore them as they laughed.
"Bella, you're going to absolutely love our waitress," Jasper grinned, nudging me under the table.
I glanced over at him quickly, my eyes still narrowed. "Please don't tell me she was throwing herself at you guys," I groaned.
"She was almost literally drooling all over Emmett's lap. It was actually slightly disturbing."
"No way, man, that bitch was fucking drooling over both of us. I'm sure she wouldn't say no to a two for one deal. She wants me more, obviously, but I'm sure she wouldn't say no to the both of us."
"Yeah, well I don't exactly swing that way," Jasper said, shaking his head.
"What, straight?"
"No, threesomes. With another dude. Not for me."
I glanced at Emmett. "You'd have a threesome with another dude?"
"Hell no. There are enough women in this world; I don't need to fucking have sex with a dude there just to get laid. I was just sayin'."
I grinned mischievously. "Well, good to know where you both stand."
"Bella, you would not," Jasper said, rolling his eyes at me.
"No?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "Why not? If the right opportunity arose… two's gotta be better than one, so why not?"
"Well you are the promiscuous one, so I suppose you'd know."
I laughed. I hadn't had a guy in a while, and Jasper knew it. It was a personal choice more often than not; our lifestyle didn't exactly allow room for any sort of solid relationships with members of the opposite sex. And I was sick of the monotonous, meaningless one-night stands. For a while, it had helped to fill the emptiness I sometimes felt, our life could be lonely at times, and sex was always guaranteed to take my mind off life. But the morning after, everything always came tumbling back down, the reality of who I'd had and who I'd never have crashed down around me. Eventually I decided it wasn't worth it. And I'd never actually found a guy I liked or wanted to spend any real time with, so I strayed away from that now.
I'd always wondered what would have happened had Jasper or I actually fallen in love with someone. It hadn't happened yet, and now that we were finally had our eye on settling down somewhere, it would never be an issue. Unless, of course, Jasper and I happened to stumble upon our soul mates somewhere between here and the Canadian border, and that idea was almost laughable. I hadn't found him in the five years I'd been traveling the country, so I knew there was no way he'd appear somewhere in the next few weeks. Besides, I'd pretty much convinced myself there really was no one out there for me. No one else, that is.
I sighed deeply. I really, really needed to give up on that.
"I think we all need to get to know each other better," Emmett declared. "Especially if we'll be traveling together."
"Yeah," I said, turning to him. Like so I knew where to track your sorry ass down if you nab my guitar in the middle of the night. "So what were you doing on the side of the highway today?"
"But first, we should get another round," he said, completely ignoring my question. I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.
"This isn't going to work if you keep dodging my questions."
Emmett grinned as he waved down the waitress. "All in due time, Bella."
"Hey, fellas. Refill already?"
I looked up, shocked at the extraordinarily prompt service. Then I saw our server, a short, cute blonde girl, I could see her doing the math as she eyed up the boys. I rolled my eyes as she bounced back between Jasper and Emmett.
That's right, sweetheart, two guys one girl. One of them must be single. Or, in this case, both. I hated girls like that: always on the look out, always on the hunt. But that's not how you find love; that shit finds you.
"Yes, please," Emmett signaled to his empty bottle of beer. "And how about three shots of tequila?"
I wrinkled my nose. "Tequila? Really?"
Emmett looked over at me and grinned. "Oh, don't be such a baby, Bella."
I rolled my eyes and made a face.
"How about you, sweetheart? Can I get you another?"
I looked up at the server, trying to hide the disgust on my face. "Well I'll need something to wash the piss down with, I suppose." I shrugged.
She looked confused for a moment and then just nodded, turning to Jasper. "And another Jack and Coke for you?"
"Yeah, sure," Jasper replied, watching me, and I could tell he was fighting back a laugh.
"Oh, and grab a shot for yourself, you if you'd like darlin'," Emmett winked as the girl backed away from the table.
"Ugh," I shivered with disgust, as she disappeared behind the bar.
"You don't make a lot of girl friends, do you Bella?" Emmett asked, watching me thoughtfully.
I shrugged. "Umm… no, I guess not really. Why?"
Him and Jasper both began laughing. "No reason."
"Ooookay," I said slowly, looking between the two of them wondering if they'd lost their minds. "So, game time?"
"Yeah, why not. All right, let's see… so, I already you guys grew up in Florida. How old are you?"
"I'm twenty-two, Jazz is twenty-four," I answered, swallowing a sip of my drink.
Emmett nodded. "Okay, now would be your turn to ask a question."
"How old are you?" Jasper asked just as I opened my mouth to ask Emmett the question that had been on my mind all evening. It wasn't even that I cared that much, but his evasiveness was pissing me off and making me curious as hell.
"I'm twenty-three." Emmett rubbed his face as he thought. "When was the last time you guys were home?"
"Five years ago. Why were you hitchhiking?" I asked quickly before Jasper could cut me off. Jazz just looked over at me and laughed. I stuck my tongue out at him and turned back to Emmett.
"Whoa! Five years? Really? Where else have you lived?"
"Ah, ah, ah. It's our turn to ask the question," I reminded him as I chewed an ice cube.
Emmett crossed his arms grumpily over his chest. "Fine. Well, I was hitchhiking because I sold my car three days ago."
"Why did you -" I began, but Emmett held up his hand to stop me.
"My question. Where have you guys been living for the past five years?"
I glanced at Jasper. "Everywhere," he answered with a shrug. The waitress showed up with our tray of drinks and we paused the game to do our shots, which went down just as terribly as I was expecting. I shivered, finishing my first drink as I washed it down, trying to get the terrible taste out of my mouth.
Emmett thanked the waitress and then turned back to Jasper and I. "Everywhere? Geez, be more vague, please."
Jasper chuckled. "Well, we left Jacksonville five years ago, and after that we lived in Pickerville, Missouri for about six months, got bored of that and then went to North Dakota?" He glanced at me for confirmation.
"We were there for four months, I believe," I nodded. "And basically, we've been living like that ever since, traveling every few months when one place gets too boring, or we start hating our jobs too much, or when one of us breaks the law." Jasper grinned at the last part, kicking me under the table with his boot. I winced, reaching down to rub my shin. That was going to bruise, the dickwad.
"Wow," Emmett exhaled. "That's… nuts."
Jazz nodded. "Well, it's the only way we really know anymore. So, because I know Bella's dying to know, why did you sell your car?"
"Needed them money," Emmett shrugged, swallowing a sip of his beer. "I mean, I didn't have to sell it, but I didn't really want to take any money out of my bank account, because my parents can track that shit, so I figured why the hell not? I had a good feeling about it, and I got a good deal. Couldn't go wrong."
"Except… you had to hitchhike."
"Yeah. But then I met you guys. So it all worked out."
I let out a breath, raising my eyebrows. Yeah, Jasper and I lived impulsively, but I couldn't imagine doing anything like selling the car and hoping it would all fall into place.
Emmett shrugged. "Anyway, so… why the fuck did you guys leave town? Isn't your family worried about you and shit?"
I sighed, glancing at Jasper, hoping he'd take this one.
"Well, Bella and I are both only children; my dad's in jail and I truly have no fucking clue where my mom is – probably dead, or living in Mexico with seven kids, or something equally fucked up. Anyway, my parents don't give a fuck about me. I moved in with Bella's family when I was seventeen. Then when Bella was a senior, our house burned down and Bella's parents passed away in the fire. A few weeks later, we left town. There was nothing left for us there."
"Wow… That's heavy, bro. And I thought I had problems."
"Everybody has problems," I half-smiled, taking a long sip of my drink.
"Cheers," Emmett said, raising his beer. Jasper and I clinked our glasses to his and took another drink.
"All right," I swallowed, "So, you don't want your parents to be able to track you. So what, are you like a runaway or something?"
Emmett chuckled. "Not exactly. My parents are pretty powerful people."
"I thought you were a potato farmer," Jasper interrupted.
Emmett held up his hand. "Yeah, well, we grow powerful potatoes." I could tell, instantly, that he was lying. "Anyway, I didn't run away… I just kind of left. Without telling them where I was going."
"So you ran away."
"Naw… that sounds so juvenile. I'm fucking twenty-three years old. People my age don't run away."
"If you say so."
"I do," he said, puffing out his chest indignantly. "So… you guys ever think about stopping, settling down somewhere?"
Jasper and I looked at each other. "Canada," we answered simultaneously.
Emmett paused, his face breaking out into a huge grin. "Man, I love you guys. You know I'm not really a big believer in fate, but something fucking tells me like this was meant to happen."
"Maybe it was," I shrugged, playing with a label of his empty beer bottle. "Some things are meant to be."
"Naw, fuck that. Nothing's meant to be."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, for one, it scares the fuck out of me to believe that we don't have free will. Like, I know that we do, but if it's all meant to be, than what's the fucking point? Everything we do will lead us to where we're supposed to be anyway. I just don't like that thought that my life's all fucking mapped out, you know? That's when people give up on life, when they decide fate exists and all that shit. You gotta take hold of the drivers seat, man, you can't just sit there and watch your life pass you by, hoping everything will fall into place for you. I want to be able to decide what happens."
"Well, you do, that's the point. Like, you make the decisions that take you to where you're supposed to be. I think that's what happiness is – knowing you're on the right path."
"No way," Emmett argued. "I'd fucking be happy no matter what I was doing. If I were in school, or travelling the word, or working some shitty-ass job, or even still back at my parents, I'd be fucking happy. I'd find a way to be happy; I always do."
"But it's not the same," I said. "You should have to try to be happy. You should just fucking be happy."
Emmett shrugged. "I don't know, I think we always try and make happiness, no matter how happy or unhappy we already are. Why the fuck else do we drink?"
I sat back and laughed.
"The man has a point," Jasper said, lifting his glass and tilting it toward me before bringing it to his lips.
"Yeah, but still," I argued, shaking my head, still smiling. "You made the choice to leave home. Because you obviously weren't happy there. You even went as far as selling your car so they wouldn't find you, so don't try and tell me you'd make happiness out of that situation, because we both know it wouldn't be real. And what if those decisions are bringing you somewhere good, somewhere you're meant to be. Like, to your dream job or your dream girl."
"Ah, I fucking hope it's taking me to my dream girl. I'm fucking ready for her to walk into my life any instant."
"Well then, maybe she's here somewhere."
Emmett scoffed, glancing across the bar to where our waitress was busy putting away glasses. "I don't think so, sweetheart."
I rolled my eyes.
"Besides, I don't believe in 'The One.'"
"No?"
"Naw. There's waaaay too many fuckable chicks out there to pick just one."
I kicked him under the table. "Ow! Jesus, woman, that fucking hurts."
"Yeah, well don't be a prick," I shrugged, taking a sip of my drink.
"Whatever. This conversation is getting way too philosophical for me anyway," Emmett said, shaking his head at me. "Who's fucking turn is it, anyway?"
"Ours," I answered, even though I wasn't even sure anymore.
Emmett nodded for us to go, swallowing a mouthful of beer.
"All right," Jasper said, leaning back in his chair, "You said you worked in a body shop. Is that what you've been doing for work since graduation?"
Emmett shook his head, "No, I worked at a body shop for about a year… well, year and a half, I suppose. But after graduation, I did some travelling and then mostly worked for my dad when he really needed me, and did odd jobs when he didn't need my help. But what about you guys? What do you do for work?"
"Bella usually works in a diner, waitressing, and I'm a mechanic."
"Well that's handy, since you do so much travelling," Emmett grinned.
"Especially when you drive a piece of shit car," I said. Both the boys turned their heads very slowly and glared at me.
"Never. Call. Her. That." Emmett said, narrowing his eyes. "Wow, you really do know nothing about cars, huh? It's a shame, I was starting to like you."
I reached across the table and slugged him. "You like this town, Emmett? Because we can always just leave you here."
"Christ woman. You are fucking abusive. And, please, you love me too much already to leave me here. Besides, we're going to Canada bitches!"
I rolled my eyes. "Well, we are. We'll see if you make it the whole way."
"I bet Jasper would rather take me than you. At least I don't punch him all the goddamn time."
"Hey kids, play nice," Jasper broke in. "We have a lot of hours to be spending together in the next few days for you guys to be picking fights."
"I wasn't picking a fight," I huffed, sitting back in my chair and crossing my arms.
"Me neither," Emmett said, mimicking my actions. I stuck my tongue out at him. He made a face back at me.
"Anyway…" Jasper said, looking between the two of us with a smile. "Back to the game. Emmett, what kind of car did you drive? The one you sold."
Emmett's face fell. "An '01 Camaro."
Jasper's jaw dropped open. "You're kidding me."
"Nope," Emmett said, popping the 'p'.
"And you sold it."
"Yep."
"Wow… you must really hate your parents."
"Yeah." Emmett nodded.
"That's sad."
"Yeah, well she found a good home. I hope."
I opened my mouth to remind the guys that it was just a car, but thought better of it and stopped myself just in time. "You – uh, your turn, Emmett."
"All right." He seemed sadder; thinking about his long lost car, Camaro, whatever. But he sat forward in his seat, taking another pull of his beer as he thought. "Hmm… so, do you guys honestly work for all your money, or do you snatch a couple unwatched purses every once in a while? I mean, living out of hotels, that's gotta get fucking expensive."
"Well," Jasper began, "We've always believed that we should earn every cent we have. Other people shouldn't have to suffer because of our chosen lifestyle. That's not to say that it's not tough – we live paycheque to paycheque. But, there are nights where we can't find a place to stay, or we can't afford a place to stay, and have to sleep in the car. It's not so bad after you've done it a few times."
"The worst part is not having a bathroom," I added.
"Yeah, it's gotta be hard for you to pull off this look without a mirror," Emmett smirked, gesturing to my appearance. I narrowed my eyes and flipped him off, and he flinched as if he was expecting me to hit him again. I grinned victoriously and leaned back in my chair.
Jasper chuckled. "A lot of the places we stay at will actually give us a monthly rate, if we pay upfront. I mean, the places we stay usually don't get a lot of traffic, so they welcome us. Still, it's tough."
"So do you just drive until you find somewhere you want to stop? Or do you have a set destination in mind?" Emmett asked.
"Usually just drive until something stops us."
"Hey! That was out of turn!" I objected.
"Oh, relax and drink, woman," Emmett said, poking me.
I looked down at my empty glass. "I need another round. Um, I'll go get them." I stood up quickly; I did not feel like sitting here while the waitress salivated all over the boys again.
"Tell Jenna I say hi," Emmett grinned. I rolled my eyes, not surprised at all that he already knew her name.
"Will do," I muttered.
I took a side-trip to the bathroom and then ordered our drinks, downing a shot of Jagermeister at the bar and then got three more to bring back to the table. I could already feel the alcohol working its way in my system, warming my stomach and my chest, everything around me already feeling slightly hazy. I welcomed the feeling; basked in it, even. I wasn't an alcoholic by any means, but I was twenty-two and sometimes just needed an escape from real life. Even if that escape was short-lived and usually came with unwelcome consequences.
When I got back to the table, Jasper had Emmett talking about his Camaro again, about how much he loved that car, but how his true dream car was a brand new Camaro SS. I placed their drinks in front of them, trying to block out the conversation. They may as well have been speaking in a foreign language – I didn't understand a fucking word of it.
"Thanks, Bells. Oh, Jag! Hmm, maybe I have found my dream girl after all," Emmett exclaimed, plucking a shot off the table and grinning at me.
"Oh, please," I rolled my eyes. "I highly doubt that your dream girl is Car and Driver illiterate."
"Well, you have all the time in the world to learn, sweet cheeks," he grinned, throwing back the shot.
I turned to Jasper. "Won't you please knock him out?"
"Naw," Jazz grinned lazily, "I'm enjoying this far too much."
"Where's my overprotective best friend when I need him?" I grumbled, taking my shot.
Apparently just one shot of Jagermeister wasn't enough to pacify Emmett, because he immediately ordered another round of shots. And by the time I'd thrown the second – well, third, for me – shot back, I was really starting to feel it. Our game was kind of winding down, so I cleared my throat and turned to the guys.
"All right. Favorite song, go."
"Right now, or all time?"
"Both, I guess."
Emmett leaned back in his chair as he thought. "Ummm… well lately I've been listening to a lot of Maiden, and my favorite would probably be Aces High. But all time, Cat's in the Cradle by Ugly Kid Joe takes the cake, for sure."
I was a little surprised by his response, but turned to my right. "Jasper?"
"Mellancamp, Jack and Diane. And right now… I don't know man, Don't Stop Believing sounded pretty fucking good to me this afternoon."
Emmett reached over and high-fived Jasper. "Classic, bro."
They both turned to me. I stirred my drink, furrowing my brow as I thought. "Ugh… this is hard."
"It was your question."
"Yeah, it's harder than I thought, though. Well, all-time favorite is Free Bird, no question."
Jasper rolled his eyes. "Obviously."
"And right now," I continued, eyeing Jasper, "I've been digging some 311. So... maybe Amber..."
"Total stoner song."
I shot a glare at Emmett. "Or maybe Got Me Wrong by Alice in Chains… or anything by Kings of Leon." I blew out a breath. "I guess… I don't know, I don't really have one favorite song. Oh, or Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley... or any Def Leppard." I looked up at them groaning, "I can't pick one!"
"Fucking women," Emmett chuckled, shaking his head, "Never can make a fucking decision."
"Well, not when it comes to music. That shit is serious," I said.
"Yeah, well, at least you have decent taste in tunes. I mean, Free Bird is an epic song. I had a buddy back home who could kill that song on the guitar."
"I can play it," I grinned proudly.
"For true?"
"Yup."
"Dream girl."
"Oh, Emmett, you wish."
"I do."
I giggled reached out, squeezing his hand, "You'll find her."
"You're setting the bar pretty high, Swan. Anyway, we need more shots or something because I am far too fucking sober for this."
"Deal."
So the guys waved down the waitress, and ordered another round of drinks, followed by another fucking shot of tequila. I was tempted to opt out of this round, but didn't want to look like too big of a wuss in front of the guys. So instead I held my breath and tried to swallow that disgusting shit as quickly as fucking possible. It still made me gag on the way down, though.
I just didn't understand how people enjoyed drinking that shit.
So we lounged around, taking the occasional smoke break, as we got more and more plastered, laughed and sang and even did a little dancing between the chatting. I was beginning to really like Emmett – not in that way – but he was just such a fucking fun dude. And he had some kind of talent for taking every single situation and turning it into something absolutely hilarious. Besides, he made me look like a good dancer, and anyone who did that was pretty damn solid in my books.
After a while, Jasper decided to turn in, claiming to be "road-weary", and did one more shot with us before heading up to the hotel room.
I grinned as I watched his form retreating out of the bar, and stumble out the door. "Jasper's drunk," I giggled, turning to Emmett.
"He's a fucking lightweight."
"He's half your size. And he was drinking doubles."
"Fucking pussy."
Emmett and I paused, grinning at each other.
"So," he said finally, breaking eye contact when he looked down at his beer. "How did you and Jasper meet?"
I shook my head and looked down as I told him the whole embarrassing story about my awful haircut and the teasing that ensued, and how Jasper had stepped in and saved me, and how the rest was history.
"Well, that's fucking noble of him."
"Yeah, Jasper's like that. I think he's been through so much suffering that he can't stand seeing anyone else go through that."
Emmett nodded, "He seems like a real stand-up dude, if you ask me."
"Yeah, he's alright," I giggled.
"It's impressive that you guys remained so close over the years. I mean, usually it's hard for a guy and a girl to be just friends through their teenage years especially."
"Jasper and I just never felt that way about each other."
"Yeah, but what about other people getting in between the two of you? I mean, didn't he ever have a girlfriend? Or you have a boyfriend?"
I looked down at my drink, shifting uncomfortably. "Yeah, I mean, we both dated… it was hard, at times. His girlfriends would get so jealous when he'd spend time with me. But I dunno, for whatever reason, he always chose me over them." It had been really hard when Jasper dated; his girlfriends always despised me. They had the hardest time understanding our relationship. He got accused of cheating on them so many times I honestly lost count. Most people automatically assumed that we were banging, just because we spent so much time together. Eventually though, he learnt to ignore the rumors. Because that's just what they were: rumors.
"Lucky you got such a loyal friend. No offense, but if I had to choose between one girl who was willing to suck my dick, and another who was just my friend, I'd pick the one who's putting out. I think most guys would. He's not gay, is he?"
I let out a loud laugh, my drink halfway to my mouth. I spilt some of it on the table, wiping it up with my arm. "No. No, he's not gay."
"Umm, sure. I guess."
Emmett shook his head, letting out a long breath. "I still can't believe that you guys have been living like this for five fucking years. Christ, don't you just ever get at each other's throats?"
"Sometimes," I giggled. "I mean, Jasper and I have our differences. But there's just something… I don't know. I can go to bed hating his guts, but when I wake up in the morning, I know that life just wouldn't be the same without him. I don't want a life that doesn't include him."
Emmett just stared at me.
"I'm drunk, I know," I said, feeling uncomfortable. "I ramble."
"No, it's cool. It's just… I can't imagine feeling that way about someone. That's fucking intense. And sappy as shit, I'm not going to lie."
I made a face. "Yeah, well, one day you'll find your person to be all intense and sappy about."
"Doubts."
"Hey, you never know." I raised my eyebrows. "Anyway, enough fucking talk about soul mates and shit."
"Were we talking about soul mates?"
I shook my head, laughing. "I don't know."
"What, is Jasper your soul mate?"
I scrunched up my face. "I don't know… I don't know if I really believe in soul mates."
"So what," Emmett said, leaning forward and taking a sip of his beer, "You fucking believe in fate, but you don't believe in soul mates? Isn't that like the same fucking thing?"
"Yeah, well… I guess maybe I believe in them, sort of." I shrugged. "I don't know. I used to, and I don't know if Jasper is mine. I mean… he's definitely not romantically, and I don't know if everybody had two soul mates, one best friend and one love… fuck, I don't know. " I shook my head, trying to clear the drunk haze from my brain so I could form the words I wanted to say. I took a breath.
"I think I believe that there is one person out there for everybody… and I think you kind of just fucking find each other. It's not something you have to search for, because that shit pisses me off. Looking for love," I scoffed, "That gets you nowhere. Love finds you."
"You really believe that, though? So, if I were a fucking hermit, sat around my house all fucking day, you really think the right girl would really come knocking randomly one day at my door."
"I don't know… would you order pizza?"
"What the fuck does pizza have to do with this?"
I laughed. "I mean, maybe one day you order pizza. And she's the delivery girl. There's a fucking million ways to run into that person."
"I don't know if hermits get delivery."
"Well, they have to get food somehow," I pointed out.
Emmett shrugged, laughing. "Fuck, don't they just hunt of some shit? But whatever. So you guys just… what? Peaced it outta town after graduation or some shit? Is it something you always planned on?"
"No," I said, shaking my head slowly. "We left before I finished my senior year. I guess I technically never graduated, or whatever. But some shit happened in our life… and it was just the best decision for us to leave-"
"You parents died," Emmett interrupted.
I nodded in confirmation. "Yeah… We didn't have anything left, and there were a lot of things we both didn't want to live with…. A lot of reminders of things we both needed to forget. Anyway, we left and haven't looked back. I never, ever would have predicted that this is what our lives would become.
"Jasper is a fucking free spirit. I'm more of a tag-along I suppose, as lame as that sounds. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy, I love what we do… but if you would have asked me when I was sixteen where I thought I'd be when I was twenty-two... Well, this wouldn't be it. But it's fine, I love it."
Emmett raised his eyebrows. "Do you know that you sound like you're trying to convince me?"
"Do I?"
"Yeah."
I half-smiled. "Well, I don't mean for it to sound that way. I just… I don't know, sometimes I just stop and think, what the fuck am I doing with my life? I don't know… it's great that we have this master plan to go to Canada and settle down, but part of me doesn't know what the fuck to do when we do stop."
"What do you mean?"
I let out a short breath, blowing away a piece of hair that had fallen in my face. "Well, I don't want to be a waitress forever."
"So don't be a waitress."
I laughed bitterly. "Emmett, how do you manage to make everything sound so fucking easy?"
"Because it is," he insisted. "Life's life, dude. Everybody takes like so goddamn seriously, and it pisses the hell out of me! I mean, we're not here for that long. This shit… the stress… It's not fucking worth it. Everybody's so caught up in the game of life they forget what it's really all about! I'm here for a good time. If you're unhappy with something, fucking change it. If you don't got a lot of money, fuck it. I'm here for the people… the experiences, because that's the shit I'm gonna remember. That's the last thing I'll see when it's my time to go. Not whether or not I made my last car payment on time, or if I had a fucking load of cash in the bank, or if I had the biggest TV money could buy… When it comes down to it, none of that shit matters. I'm gonna remember the first time I saw my niece smile, and the crazy shit I did in Thailand the year after I graduated, and drinking on the school roof Friday nights, fucking Cassidy Heath on the fifty-yard line junior year, and the time I hitchhiked in Oregon and then sat at a fucking random-ass bar in the middle of shit-fuck-nowhere with two fucking strangers and got shitfaced… That's the shit that matters. Life is too fucking short to take too seriously."
I was silent as I digested his words, then smiled and raised my glass. Emmett clinked his bottle against it.
"You're right," I sighed after a long drink. "And you sound like Jasper, by the way."
Emmett chuckled. "Jasper's a smart man."
"He likes to think he is," I said, rolling my eyes.
"No, he is. I know I sound like a total fucking psychopath to you right now, but seriously Bella, live in the fucking moment. Like Neil Young would say: it's better to burn out than fade away. Carpe diem, bitch."
I grinned, running my hand through my hair. "You know, Jazz was gonna get a tattoo that said that."
"What? Carpe diem, bitch?"
"Yeah," I laughed.
"That'd be badass. Why didn't he?"
"He got Live tattooed on his back instead. It's fucking sweet, all script-like. But you should get Carpe Diem. It sounds like you believe in it."
Emmett was silent, his brow furrowed as he stared down at the bottle in his hand.
"What?" I laughed.
He held up his hand, not looking at me. "I'm thinking."
I giggled, signaling the waitress for another drink. She brought it back to me before Emmett finally spoke.
"All right. I'd get that." He pointed at the inside of his forearm, "Right here. What you gonna get?"
I raised my eyebrows, swallowing my sip of Jack and Coke. "I already have one."
"Shut the hell up."
"I do!"
"Prove it."
I rolled my eyes, lifting up my shirt just long enough so he could catch a glimpse of it.
I looked back at him expectantly.
He crossed his arms over his chest. "Get another one."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"Um… because. I don't want to get a fucking spur-of-the-moment tattoo. Those always turn out shitty," I replied.
"Bullshit. You're just scared."
"I am not!"
"Am too."
"I am-"
"Bella," he cut me off, leaning forward in his chair. "Come on, did you just hear my fucking speech? You're over thinking this, dude. Live in the fucking moment. Haven't you ever done anything spontaneous before?"
"Emmett, I live on the fucking road. Spontaneity is my way of life."
He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to see through me. "No," he shook his head. "You're way more careful than you think you are. Come on, Bella, do this, but do it for yourself. I mean, there's got to be something."
I shook my head, but couldn't get that stupid drawing out of my head…
"I can see it in your eyes, darling. Do it. I'll tell you if it'd look bad. I swear," I opened my mouth to object, but he had our server flagged down and she'd practically appeared at his side out of thin air, batting her eyelashes so furiously I thought she might actually achieve lift-off.
"Hey," he grinned up at her, flashing her his award-winning smile. "Sorry to bother you sweetheart, but I need another round. And I was wondering if you could help me and my friend out."
"Sure thing," she purred. I almost reached up and wiped the drool off her chin. "What can I do for you?"
"I was just wondering if there are any tattoo shops in town?"
"Actually, yes. You see that guy over there with the long hair?" Emmett and I both craned our necks in the direction she was pointing. Emmett let out a loud laugh, and it took me a second but I realized she was pointing to the guy Emmett had mentioned when we'd first sat down in the bar… the creepy man with the long hair. A shiver ran down my spine. "That's Jimmy – he owns the only shop in town. I can go talk to him if you'd like."
I just stared at her, wondering if she was absolutely nuts. It was… well, fucking late, and we were sitting in a bar, drinking… at a bar that he'd been sitting in all night as well. She was insane if she actually thought I would let this man touch me with a ten-foot pole, never mind a needle loaded with ink that would become a permanent part of my skin.
She seemed to sense my hesitation. "He doesn't drink," she assured me.
"Mmm, yes. He sure doesn't look like the drinking kind," I said, trying to mask the panic in my voice.
"And he's really very good at what he does. I wouldn't send you guys to him if I didn't completely trust him."
"Well I trust you," Emmett broke in with a wink.
She giggled. "How about you let me go talk to him? And I'll be right back with your beer."
"Thanks, sweetheart." He grinned at her and she walked away, looking all dazed and confused.
"Jesus, Emmet," I said, when the girl was out of earshot, "You know you really shouldn't do that to people."
"Do what?" he asked innocently.
I heard something glass shatter behind the bar, and turned just in time to see our server duck down to clean up the mess.
I smirked at Emmett. "That."
He just laughed and shook his head. Then he leaned in towards me, his gaze intently fixed in mine. "So what you gonna get tattooed, Bella?"
"We are not doing this, Emmett!" I hissed, cutting my eyes to Jimmy, who was still sitting in the dark corner. I hadn't realized it before, but there were two other guys in the booth with him.
"Christ, woman. Don't worry. Jenna trusts him."
"Jenna's a moron."
"Well I disagree."
"Fine." I raised my eyebrows. "You get your tattoo. And if he doesn't manage to kill you or massacre your skin, then I'll consider it."
Emmett grinned victoriously. "So, what are you gonna get?"
I shrugged, hesitating. "I might get this… this drawing… well, more like a sketch, really, that one of my friends gave me in high school."
"What is it of?"
"…A bird, and stuff. I don't know. It's hard to explain."
He nodded. "Who drew it?"
"Just an old friend."
"I'm willing to bet money that whoever drew it was more than just 'an old friend'."
I tried to keep my face neutral. "Why do you say that?"
He smirked. "I'm going to sound like a complete creep… but your eyes, they're very expressive. They say what you're not saying out loud."
"You're right."
"What?"
"You sound like a creep."
He laughed. "I'm serious."
"So am I." I rolled my eyes. "Actually, though… you're not the first person to tell me that."
"I did think I was." Then he looked at me, all serious. "Have you ever been in love?"
I hesitated, shifting in my seat, not liking the turn this conversation was taking. "…Yeah. Have you?" Despite how weird it sounded to have this conversation with a guy I'd just met, something about Emmett put me as ease. I trusted him. Or maybe I'd had just enough whiskey to trust him.
He shrugged. "Yeah, I think so. I don't really know. I had a girlfriend I thought I loved, I guess. But she was a crazy bitch."
I laughed. "You think you loved her?"
"Yeah."
"No way." I shook my head. "If you loved her, you'd fucking know. Trust me."
He just looked at me for a moment, a sad smile on his face. "What happened?"
I couldn't look at him as I replied. I stared at my drink instead. "…We were young," I shrugged. "It was a lot, for being so young. Our relationship was very… intense. I don't even know what happened, but one day… it just ended. He didn't want me anymore, and I… I left." I let out a breath, because it was impossibly hard thinking about those times. It was like a stone hand was twisting my insides, suffocating my heart, making it hard to breathe.
"How young?"
I fought for a breath. "Emmett, no offense, but I don't really like to talk about it."
He shrugged. "Nobody does. But you're about to get a tattoo of a picture that he drew for you-"
"I never said he drew it." I tried to control my shaking hand as I took a sip of my drink.
He looked at me. "Not out loud."
I rolled my eyes. "What, are you a mind reader then?"
"No, I fucking wish!" he grinned. "Actually no, I'd much prefer super-strength to mindreading. No way I'd want to know what's going on in everybody's fucking head all the time. That'd be annoying as fuck and people are way to messed up for that shit. But shit dude, say I'm fucking walking down the street and there's a building in my fucking way, poof, I could just pick that shit up and toss it to the side and carry the fuck on." He sighed, a far away look in his eyes. "That'd be the fucking shit."
"There's a building in them middle of the street?" I giggled.
"I never said it was in the middle of the street."
"But you were walking down the street, and a building's in your way. It just sounds like -"
"All right, all right, I get it smart ass. Fuck. You know what I mean. So what superpower would you want?"
I could 't help but laugh at his ADD-tendencies. I thought about it for a second, stalling to trying to get my heart rate back to a normal pace. I was glad I'd managed to get him off-topic.
"Hmm… I guess I'd like to be able to protect the people I love. I don't really know how… I'd just like to be able to ensure their safety."
Emmett rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. "That's boring."
"But practical," I retorted, a little offended.
"Yeah, yeah – oh, hey! You're back! Please tell me you've got some good news for us, sweetie." The waitress had returned to the table, looking slightly more flustered than before. But she smiled coolly as she replied, tucking a piece of blonde hair behind her ear as she spoke.
"Jimmy said he could meet you at the shop in half in hour, if that's cool with you guys. He's heading out right away to get set-up for you. And he'll charge you a little extra 'cause, well, it's really late, but it won't be a problem. Just bring whatever you want to get tattooed with you there and he'll draw everything up."
"Badass!" Emmett pumped his fist in the air and reached across the table for a high-five. I returned it, a little less enthusiastically than him. I tried to decide if this was a good idea but the alcohol was fogging my brain, making it hard to think. I wished I hadn't drank so damn much. Emmett was definitely a bad influence on me. Jasper was not going to be happy about this, if I went through with it. But all I could see was the piece of paper, tucked safely as the bottom of my suitcase, and suddenly I could feel it pulling me towards it, like a magnet. It was a beautiful drawing. Why not get something to remember him by?
Something else to remember him by.
I unconsciously rubbed my ribcage on the spot I already had inked sketched permanently on my skin as my eyes focused on nothing.
"Awesome," the waitress smiled, startling me out of my trance. "I'll run and grab your bill. And maybe I'll swing by the shop after I close up if you guys are still there."
Emmett winked at her. "Absolutely."
"All right! Okay, well good luck guys, hopefully I'll see you in a bit!"
Emmett turned back to me as she left.
"Hey, I mean, it's not like you're ever going to see him again, right?"
"Right," I muttered, swallowing the last of my drink and setting it back on the table a little more forcefully than I intended.
"…Are you?"
I laughed, cursing the whiskey for turning the situation into something humorous. "No," I managed. "Not if…" I stopped, still giggling as I tried to imagine a situation in which the road would ever lead me back home. Back to him. I saw the headstone, nestled under a tree in the far back corner of a quiet little cemetery. Two names etched in the stone. I had said my good-byes, and buried six feet under the boggy soil was nothing but the remains two bodies. Renee and Phil weren't there anymore. There was no reason for me to go back to that place. I shook my head, suddenly sober.
"No. Never."
Emmett was silent for a moment.
"You seem so much older than twenty-two."
"I grew up fast. I had a mother to take care of." And just like that the situation was funny again and I grinned at the table, reminiscing.
"Fuck you're an emotional drunk."
I laughed and stuck my tongue out at Emmett as he leaned forward and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. He had the money for our drinks on the table before I could get any bills out of my jeans.
"You're not paying for all that," I said, finally freeing a few bills from my pocket and slapping them down on the table.
Emmett looked down and then laughed, loud and shaking. I looked down to see what was so damn funny, then I giggled and shook my head. I'd pulled out three singles.
"Thanks, but I've got it covered," Emmett said, still laughing as me.
"I have more in here," I muttered, leaning back in my chair so I could slide my hand into my front pocket.
"Save you're fucking money, Swan. You've got a tattoo to pay for," he winked, and gulped back the last of his beer.
Tattoo. Right.
I stood, and it seemed like the whole room stood with me. I grabbed onto the back of my chair as I steadied myself.
"Whoa," I muttered. That's why it's not a good idea to sit and drink for a long period of time…
"You all right there, champ?"
"Yeah. Just… gimme a sec." I looked around, waiting for the room to straighten up, then concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other until I'd made it to Emmett's side. He looped his arm through mine and led me to the front door.
"I just need some fresh air," I declared, as he pushed the door open to the dark, deserted street.
"When did it get dark out?" I wondered.
"Probably sometime in the past five hours."
"Five hours?!" I cried, pulling my arm from Emmett's and going to lean up against the brick wall. The pale yellow streetlights above me were swimming around, taunting me. The night air was cool; salty.
"Seriously, Bella, are you gonna make it?"
I drew in a deep breath of the air and straightened out, puffing out my chest. "Of course. Nobody can hold their liquor like Bella Swan."
He just laughed and took my arm again, this time leading me down the street, to front door of the hotel.
"We have to be quiet, when we go back up there," I whispered to Emmett, trying hard to concentrate on my feet as we walked. When a crack on the sidewalk almost tripped me, I quickly righted myself as Emmett snickered and increased his hold on my arm. It was going to be a miracle if we made it in and out of there without waking up Jazz. I knew that he would try and stop me if he were to find out what I was about to possibly go do. Oh, he wasn't going to be very happy about this at all.
For some reason, the thought was funny, and I began giggling.
"What?" Emmett asked.
I shook my head. "Nothing," I replied in a hushed voice, not even sure why I was whispering already. That made me giggle harder.
"Christ, woman, you're going to have to cut that out if you plan on being the least bit covert."
I bit my lip, trying to stop the giggles from escaping as Emmett led me through the front door of the hotel. I grinned, leaning into his side as we walked. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember something about tattoos and drinking.
You weren't supposed to get tattoos with alcohol in your system.
I drew in a deep gulp of air.
Well then, I had thirty minutes… and I was going to have to act much more sober.
x.x.x
A/N: I think one of the things I love most about Emmett's character is his outlook in life – the guy doesn't take anything seriously. And he's funny as hell. Since I'm not the greatest at writing comedy, I hope I did him some justice in my own way.
Thanks for reading!
xx