Hi, lovelies! I have a request to ask of you! If you would be so kind as to tell me if you would rather the next chapter be quite long, or broken into three different chapters, that would be great! I have it all written out already, and it's all focused on the birthday party. I don't want to overwhelm you with a trillion words, but I also don't want to make the birthday party last too many chapters, either. What do you think? I will probably choose whichever gets the most votes...

... or perhaps whatever Leyshla Gisel and Ashala93 choose because I love you so goddamn much ;)

As always, thank you for the input! Really hope you enjoy!

.::.

Refugee

Chapter Thirteen

"We got somethin', we both know it, and we don't talk too much about it."

-"Refugee" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Merle was the first to arrive. Just as I had expected, he showed up with obnoxious amount of cologne spritzed all over his shirt in an attempt to drown out the ghastly smell of last night's whiskey, and the game of Twister tucked tightly underneath his arm. Surprisingly, he gave me a friendly pat on the back as Jimmy walked in the door behind him.

"Where's birthday girl?" Merle asked, setting a rather large bottle of moonshine on the counter. "And where's my strippers? I didn't come here for no damn sausage fest."

"She went home to shower. Oughtta be here any minute. So should her friend."

"Friend?" Jimmy raised an eyebrow, inquisitively.

"Rest of 'em had ta work."

"Damn. Looks like yer shit outta luck, old boy. I know I'm getting' laid tonight." Merle prodded Jimmy, who immediately displayed a look of annoyance and smoothed the dark, fuzzy beard on his chin.

"I'm surprised they ain't knockin' yer fuckin' door down, charmin' as you are." I replied, walking to the overhead kitchen cabinets to pull out a couple a red plastic cups.

"Last time I checked, I been fuckin' somethin' other than my left hand for the past six months."

I pretended to coughthe words "lydia chylamidia" and Jimmy immediately burst into a fit of laughter. Merle, on the other hand, looked like he was fixin' to skin me alive. In fact, I was thankful when Molly and her friend walked in the door because I'm pretty sure he was actually entertainin' the idea.

Looking up for the second time, I nearly tipped over the entire cup full of 'shine when I noticed Molly in a tight, strapless, white dress. Her friend, the girl who gave Merle and Jimmy a lap dance the night before, was in a matching dress, but in black. Pretty sure this could be the intro to a porno. It would be hard for any man not to feel like a regular Hugh-fuckin-Hefner right now.

I finished pouring the last cup as Molly introduced her friend by her real name of Katie Harris, and Merle immediately took to her like a fly on shit. Desperate bastard.

.::.

Close to an hour later, I found myself on my front porch, listening to the quick flick of lighter and the not-so-distant sound of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers in the background as I lit up a Marlboro Red. I had just finished my first few sips of moonshine and I was already startin' to feel tipsy. That's what I loved most about it; you ain't gotta drink hardly none of it to get fucked up.

I rested my elbows on my knees and glanced up at the yard ahead of me as I exhaled The grass was slightly damp from a light afternoon shower we had earlier and I could still smell the cleanliness of the rain mixed now mixed with the harshness of smoke.

Just as I started drifting off into a world of my own, the screen door behind me swung open and out popped Merle. "Get'cha ass in here, boy. Time fer Twister." His glossy eyes met mine as he took a strong sip from his cup.

"Ya'll go on with the first game. I'ma finish this."

"Aight. Hurry the hell up or I'ma let birthday girl spin my wheel."

I snorted and blew out a quick puff. "I ain't worried about that." And that's the damn truth.

.::.

I walked into my living room and immediately saw Molly and Jimmy in a fit of laughter as they were tangled up on the Twister board. Katie spun the small wheel before calling out their next move, and I decided to pull up a chair to enjoy the show. After I refilled my cup, of course.

"Left hand, blue." Katie said, laughing to herself. I glanced behind her and noticed Merle unashamedly staring at her ass. Goddamn, I love that sorry motherfucker.

Molly moved her hand first and I watched as her elbow buckled under the pressure, sending the two of them tumbling down in a pile of drunken stupor. I had to admit that I was a little thankful. Her dress was short and I'm sure my punk ass buddies already saw more than I wanted I wanted 'em to.

She fingered through her hair and exhaled a deep breath as she walked over to me. Her face was visibly flustered, dewy with sweat, and reddened and her beautiful, green eyes were getting glassier by the minute. She was clearly intoxicated. But hell, who wasn't?

"Daryl Dixon, I want you to play with me."

"What?" I about choked on my drink and ended up spittin' a little bit back into the cup. Gross. I know. Sue me.

"Twister. Play Twister with me."

"Nah. I'ma sit right here."

"Do we have to go through this again? You know I always win."

I couldn't help but smile at the truthfulness of that statement.

"Fine. Hope yer ready to get yer ass handed to ya." I stood to my feet and took on last sip of my drink before I joined her on the board.

"Ok," Katie began, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. Still, Merle was staring at her ass.

"Ay, Merle, take a picture so it'll last longer!" I called out across the room.

I ain't never seen my brother turn red before, but he damn sure did. And he must'a been pretty drunk too, 'cause he didn't even say nothin' back. Just ended up laughin' a couple seconds later.

When Katie finally stopped giggling herself, she gave us our first set of instructions. "Left foot, yellow."

Simple enough.

"Left hand, green." Molly and I were bent over, face-to-face, and I held back a laugh as she tried to narrow her eyes with intimidation.

"Think I'm scared a you, Little Red?" I asked.

"I'm startin' to." She replied, a little more honestly than I expected.

"Right foot, red."

"What'cha mean by that?" I asked curiously. At this point, it was as if the rest of the noise in the room had been drowned out. All I wanted to hear was what was going to come out of her mouth next.

"What I said."

"Reft hand, red."

"But it's okay," she breathed. "I think I'm scared of you too."

Seconds later, we tumbled to the floor.