by Jack Parker
She fixed him with a look of disbelief. "So you choose me of all people?"
He shrugged again. "You make it sound as if you're the most boring person in the world or something."
"Aren't I?" she replied. "Little miss English Spoff who hides behind Carmon for protection."
"Interesting description of yourself." He kicked his legs lightly, causing the swing to gain speed. "Just one flaw."
She grinned. "And what is that?"
"It's hidden behind Carmon and Dan for protection."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't overly inflate that ego too much, Dan."
He grinned. "Why not? It's better to inflate your ego than deflate it, like someone I happen to know."
Lia frowned and kicked harder. Her swing swayed in the air, then catapulted forward. She could feel his gaze upon her as she swung forward, then backwards, then forward.
She slowed down. "What?"
"When you do that, it makes you look confident -determined. You look pretty like that."
Lia could feel the heat creeping across her face and sear at her cheeks. What was she meant to say to that? "You look pretty when you're determined, too."
He raised his eyebrows, then laughed lightly. "Pretty? Lia, what are you on?"
She slowed down again until she was swaying lightly, at the same speed as him.
She shrugged. "Crack, weed, fags. Whatever I can get my hands on."
He laughed again, his dimples visible beneath the wavering, orange light. She had never noticed he had dimples before. They were cute.
"It's getting dark. We better get back now," he stated. "I'll walk you home."
She nodded. "Thanks."
She began to get up. He gave her his hand and pulled her off. She blushed as their hands touched. She was lucky it was dark, he would not see. He walked to the gate. She followed. Home. If only such a place ever existed.
All. all. and someone
* * *
Lia leaned back against the sofa, her legs casually propped on the table. She could hear the distant whirring of the kettle as it heated away in the kitchen. The sound stopped. She sighed and slid her legs off of the table, then made her way to the kitchen.
Lia slapped down the lid of the kettle, which had jumped up whilst boiling the water. She fished out a cup, a bag of sugar, and a tea bag. She tossed the tea bag into the cup along with a spoonful of sugar. One teaspoon, that's how she liked it. Too much sweetness made her sick.
Lia lifted up the electric kettle with her free hand and poured in the water, all the while stirring the contents of the cup. Once it was full enough, she scooped out the tea bag and pulled open the fridge, taking out the milk and pouring a little into the tea, stirring all the while.
Once done, she brought the cup to her lips. It was hot, relaxing. It was what she needed to do. Relax. Lia quickly put everything back in its place. She had to keep the kitchen tidy, or else Lacey would go into one of her famous rants about how unlucky she was to share an apartment with someone as lazy as Lia.
Lia snorted. It was fun being lazy, it was an excuse out of doing work. Not a good excuse, but an excuse nonetheless. She made her way to the living room -which also served as an entrance hall- and turned on the TV, seating herself on the couch.
An Elonsican lady appeared on the screen. She was young, no more than in her mid twenties with thick, brown hair and a face inch-deep in the foundation. She was talking about the "sudden" death of Daniel Clifford, leader of sector 4, LAFFAT.
Lia didn't like her - her voice was way too hyper. She was announcing that they were going to interview J. Harlton, the new replacement, and she was fawning over how someone so young could get such a high position. Lia so did not have the patience for this. After all, who wanted to watch a midget Elonsican strut about on TV and make vivid exclamations on his shock at being chosen for the job? Not her.
She was about to change the channel when the presenter announced he was a Cadlian. Even more reason not to watch. People like that made her sick. He was probably a wannabe with his head so far up their arses that he couldn't see the light of day. Anyway, why the hell did she announce he was a Cadlian? As if it made him into a totally different species. Bitch.
Lia flicked through the channels. Soap. Reality TV show. Documentary on the origin of cucumbers. Reality TV show. Cartoon. Reality TV Show. A movie which looked about 100 years old. Another reality TV show.
Lia switched off the television, finally straying upon the well known realization that nothing decent ever came on daytime television. She would go to her -very small- room and blast the music so high the neighbors would be sending her curse words through their windows. Yes. That would be fun.
Lia placed the cup on the small table and made her way to her room. Suddenly, she heard the click of the lock. The door was slid open and Lacey entered, supporting two big paper bags full of groceries.
"Hey." She entered and slumped the bags onto the ground, breathing a sigh of relief. "Why aren't you at work?"
Lia shrugged. "They gave us a day off. Something to do with sorting out the interior of the shop. More like Ganner finally realized that his coffee shop is the town's biggest drug hangout, and he's inserting security cameras so that he can get hold of free weed," she explained.
Lacey raised her eyebrows. "Oh really? Well, I wouldn't put it past him. He'll probably strike some sort of deal with them. They give him free weed and they may commence in their business without him grassing them up."
"Wow, an analysis of my boss, Samuel Ganner. What an interesting topic for a conversation."
Lacey shrugged. "You started it. Now since you're here, help me get this shit into the kitchen."
"Tsk, tsk. Mind your language, Lacey Marianne Warden.You should not refer to food in such a crude manner."
Lacey rolled her eyes. "Look who's talking."
Lia smirked. "I've looked, it's me."
"That doesn't even make sense."
Lia shrugged. "It makes sense to me."
"Everything makes sense to you."
"But of course, Signora. My knowledge of the English language far exceeds your own."
"Right, Lia. Of course it does. Now help me out with these bags. You can take the one on the left, and I'll have the right."
Lia nodded and heaved the bag over her shoulder. She made her way to the kitchen. Lacey shook her head and held her bag before her torso with both hands.
"You hold it like a guy, Lia. This is how ladies hold bags."
Lia rolled her eyes and slumped the bag onto the kitchen floor. "Wow, now there's a proper method to hold bags."
Lacey placed her bag next to Lia's. "Of course there is. There's a proper method to do everything. You just need to know it and be an expert, like myself."
Lia rolled her eyes, again, then sighed. "I'm hungry. Do you want to go round the chippie?"
Lacey shook her head. "We have to put everything in its appropriate place first and make sure the kitchen is tidy."
Lia grabbed the Lacey's hand and dragged her towards the door. "Food first, tidy later."
"No!" exclaimed Lacey as Lia unlocked the door and pulled her outside, locking it once again and tossing the key into her pocket.
Lacey glared at her. "My eggs! My eggs will ROT!" she screeched the last word, her face contorted into an expression of fear.
"Your eggs will not rot, Lace. Now come on. I'm hungry."
Lacey frowned once again. "My eggs are going to rot!"
Lia quickly clasped her hand over Lacey's mouth and dragged her towards the stairs. Once they reached the top, she stopped.
"I have the key, the only way in. Co-operate and you may save your eggs," she stated.
Lacey sighed. "Whatever. But you're buying."
Lia nodded and made her way down the large flight of stairs. Oh, how she hated stairs. They were such a pain. They always ended up making her legs ache, especially these ones. The building only had two lifts, both of which were out of order. They had been out of order for
the two years that Lia had lived here.
She cast her gaze over the grimy wall. Her eyes rested on a corner where a dead spider lay festering amongst the coats of mould. She shuddered. Why was it that everywhere she went, death undoubtedly followed?
They finally reached the bottom of the staircase, then made their way outside. Lacey clutched her coat towards herself. Lia shivered and zipped up her hoodie. A coat wouldn't have been a bad idea. Why did the weather persist on being bad? It was extremely annoying.
They walked silently down the street. Well, that was until Lacey began muttering about how worried she was about her eggs. Lia rolled her eyes. That girl was obsessed.
"And the milk… Oh my god, the milk will be infested with hundreds of germs. But the eggs, the eggs.. We'll get salmonella poisoning and die a slow and painful death!"
Oh, how she wanted to punch her.
"You haven't talked to Carmon for the past couple of days. How come?" It was Lacey's way of getting her mind off of the eggs. Interrogating Lia. How fun.
"Because." That was way too open a statement.
"Because what?"
As she had said/thought, it was way too open a statement. "Because he's an ass."
Lacey sighed. Was that an annoyed sigh, or a tired sigh, or just both? Lia was not sure, and truthfully, she didn't really care.
"You're impossible."
"State the obvious, why don't you?"
Lacey held up her hands in surrender. "No need to get bitchy with me. I was only asking a question."
Lia smiled. "Sorry, I'm just moody. You should be used to it by now."
Lacey laughed. "I am. Just thought I deserved an apology for being such a brilliant person."
Lia sighed. "Here she goes again," she muttered.
Lacey pretended not to hear and instead announced that they had arrived at the chippie. Well, it wasn't exactly a chippie seeing as it had tables as well as just take away, but they preferred to call it that.
They each ordered a burger and a pack of chips. Lacey had a milkshake whilst Lia stuck with a Still Fanta. Lacey liked her stuff bubbly. Apparently it made her less hyper. Yeah, right.
As they began to eat, Lacey lifted up one of her chips and ran her eyes over it.
"How many calories does this thing have?"
Lia rolled her eyes. That was today's repeated habit, rolling her eyes. Two days ago it was sighing. "Just eat the chip."
"But we don't know how many calories it has!"
"Lacey, shut up. People are beginning to look."
"But if it has too many calories, I will get FAT!"
By now half of the customers were looking at them.
"HOW MANY CALORIES DOES THIS THING HAVE," screeched Lacey.
Lia buried her head in her hands as Lacey continued to rant. She was so evil.
"IT IS OOZING WITH OIL. CALORIES MAKE YOU FAT. MY EGGS ARE GOING TO ROT."
Lia wanted to die right there. That sentence just sounded so wrong to anyone who didn't know what Lacey was going on about.
It was then that her phone began to ring. Lia fished it out of her pocket and turned it on, oblivious to the many stares sent their way as Lacey announced that too many calories could lead to obesity which could, in turn, lead to death.
"Hey." It was Jude. What did he want? She said as much.
"What do you want?"
"Come over, I need to talk to you."
Lia sighed, making sure that he heard over the phone. "If this is about Carmon, then forget it."
"Don't be such a bitch, Li. Just come over."
"Yeah, fine." She sighed again, then continued. "Shall I bring Lace?"
"I need to talk to you privately."
"Okay, whatever. Bye."
"See ya."
She hung up the phone and turned to Lacey, who had finally shut up and began to eat, a light smirk playing on her features. Lia pulled the keys out of her pocket and tossed them to her.
"Happy? You can have the keys. I have to see Jude about something, so I'll see you then."
Lia got up and picked up her food. Lacey followed suit. "You're going to walk me home first, or else I'll lock you out when you come back," she stated, still smirking.
"You're evil," replied Lia.
Lacey's smirk grew larger. She made her way to the door. "I know."
And with that they left.
* * *
Lia could feel the cold air lashing against her face, rendering her cheeks numb and her ears biting from the cold. She could feel the glares on her back. She hated this part of town, but, alas, it was where Jude and Carmon's house was.
She finally reached it, a large mansion-like building fit with elegant iron gates and an arched doorway, the door made from the finest pine. She rang the bell -one of the only modern things about the outlook of the house- and waited for a few minutes.
The door was opened by a thin lady, Rita, the housekeeper.
She smiled. "Come in. Master Jude is expecting you. He is in his room."
Lia nodded and stepped into the vast, elegantly carpeted hallway. She climbed the long flight of stairs, her hand slipping over the smooth wooden banisters. She reached the landing and scuffed the red carpet with the sole of her trainer.
She had been here far too many times to not know which one of the many rooms was Jude's. Anyway, it was pretty obvious. She could hear the heavy beating of a drum kit. The clashing resounded through her ears.
It would be coming from the Jude's room. Drums were Jude's thing. Carmon specialized in the guitar, Dan had always preferred the piano. All she and Katie had ever done was sing, although Katie could play the flute.
Lia made her way to his room and slowly eased open the door, entering the vast interior. Jude, as she had already guessed, was sitting on a stool at the drum kit clad in a tank top and black pants, a towel slumped over his shoulders. If she didn't know him as well as she did, this would be the point she checked him out.
She lingered by the doorway, listening as he lashed out at the many instruments before him. Quaver. Quaver. Crotchet. Or was it a Semi Quaver? It had been so long since she had touched an instrument that she had forgotten something as simple as the duration of a note.
"Why did you call me?"
Jude continued to beat on the drums, beads of sweat forming on his brow.
She asked again. "I said, why did you call me?" It was harsher this time, slower and more confident. It was obvious he hadn't heard her. She hadn't heard herself above all that racket, but he noticed she was standing there. That was a start.
He stopped and dropped the drumsticks. Leaning against the side, he answered, "What took you so long?"
Lia sighed. Yes, he definitely hadn't heard her question. She would have to begin by answering his. "Lacey made me escort her home. She was moaning about her eggs rotting." Damn, that had sounded way too wrong.
Jude coughed, and if it wasn't for the fact that he was already hot from the drumming, she could have sworn his cheeks had gone red.
"That's one of those feminine things you're just not meant to tell me."
Lia shook her head. "Not those sorts of eggs, idiot. I'm talking about the groceries she bought. She wanted to put the eggs in the fridge."
"Oh."
Now she was sure he was blushing. It would be best to just change the subject right there.
"Anyway, why did you call me?"
His expression changed. "Two days ago, you beat Cal up, on the day of the mission. Do you know what day it was?"
Lia shrugged and sat down on a chair beside the door. "No, should I?"
"Think, Lia. What day could it have been?"
What did he mean, what day could it have been? It was just an ordinary day, like every other day. There was nothing special about it.
"Think about the date," he added.
What was with him and these stupid mind games? Why didn't he just say it out loud and stop annoying her? She frowned. What date was it? And then it hit her.
Lia brought her
hand to her mouth and gasped. "Oh my God."
Jude nodded. "Finally guessed it?"
"It was the anniversary. Oh my god, Jude, I'm so sorry! He must have been so upset and I… oh shit."
"Yeah, Lia. That's all you can say, sorry." He was angry now. Jude had the scariest mood changes. She deserved it, though, every last word. "You're such a heartless bitch, and he just tries too hard to be nice to you. To appease to your every mood swing, but Christ, Lia. That day of all days, you decide to be a bitch. As if he, we, didn't have enough on our plates. Scars never heal, Lia. And it's days like those that re-open the wounds."