Date: Fri, 11 Jul 2003 13:45:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: Zoe <smpthy4thedevil@yahoo.com>
Subject: What Are The Odds? pt. 6

Okay. While some of the story is based on my experiences and experiences of
people I know, it is, for the most part, fictional.

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the disclaimer. That's right, the
disclaimer. Since this is an adult-oriented story, the American apple pie
institution known as parental discretion will not be able to cleanse any
sense of innuendo or sarcasm from the words that might actually make you
think.

So protect your family. This story contains explicit depictions of things
which are real. These real things are commonly known as life. So, if it
sounds sarcastic, don't take it seriously. If it sounds dangerous, do not
try this at home -- or at all. And if it offends you, just don't read it.

Damn hippie.

        *******************

        What Are The Odds?

        ***

        Chapter 6

        ********************


"Adam!" squealed the perky little blond girl, running up to him.

Adam gave a weak laugh. "Hey, 'Manda," he said, bending down to hug her.

So this was Amanda. I stood stiffly, staring at some happy little
cheerleader-type feeling up the guy who'd had his hand down my pants five
minutes ago. Great. Lovely. Almost as nice as a kick in the face with a
golf shoe.

Adam gave some sort of look when his girlfriend wasn't looking. A look that
seemed to apologize to me, while at the same time begging me not to say
anything to her.

"So who's your friend, Adam?" a tall redheaded girl asked suggestively,
giving me a 'look.' Eww. She had on way too much makeup. Her eyebrows were
plucked too high and too far apart -- it looked like she went around
constantly looking surprised at everything.

He laughed nervously. "This is Reeve. Reeve, this is Rachel, and Amanda,"
he said, motioning to them respectively.

"Hi!" Amanda chirped.

"Hi," Rachel said flirtatiously. "How are you?"

I'd like to pull out your friend's hair and throw a hissy fit like a little
girl. "I'm fine."

Amanda pulled Adam off to the side and began talking with him, while Rachel
chattered on endlessly with me, about god knows what. I wasn't listening.

Why was I even bothering to stand here? I was only torturing myself. I
should have told them all to fuck off and walked home to drink my sorrows
away. But instead I stood and listened to some airhead jabber endlessly
about crap I couldn't care less about, just for Adam's sake.

Goddamn that Adam. I shouldn't have liked him. He was bad for me and I knew
it. Not in the traditional "he's a bad influence" way. No, he was probably
a good influence on me. I was most likely the bad one. But he was bad for
me in that he was obviously fucked up in the sexuality department. He was
confused, or closeted, or in denial, or SOMETHING. I should have left. I
should have told him we could be friends -- or whatever it is you're
supposed to say to someone you don't like 'that way'. I should have told
him it was all a mistake and gone home to punch something.

But I didn't. I stood there. And stood. And stood. Good lord, how fucking
long could this bitch talk? And Adam and Amanda were getting a little too
cozy for my liking, although Adam did look a tad uncomfortable, which gave
me a small sense of revenge that made me smirk.

I could see the redhead was still talking. She could probably start
speaking gibberish and I wouldn't notice. I don't know how I stood there
and listened to her for so long without saying something rude, but things
like that don't last forever.

It appeared she had asked me something, because she had stopped talking and
was giving me a questioning look.

I blinked a few times. "I'm sorry, I wasn't listening. Did you say
something?" I asked innocently.

She gave me a snippy look and whirled her head around to stalk off
someplace. Good. Wench.

I sat on a wooden bench and glared at Adam and his little girlfriend. They
were leaning against the wall, talking. Or rather, she was talking, he was
nodding. He looked pretty bored. I would be too. If she was anything like
her snippety little friend, Adam would be going insane by now.

Why was I even sitting there? I could have left. I should have left. I
should have gone to find my sister and gone home; at the very least I
should have gone to mope in some abandoned corner of the mall. But no. I
sat and watched Adam and his girlfriend being a little too friendly with
each other. I sat there torturing myself for no good reason.

Christ. I think there's something wrong with me.

I flopped myself on a wooden bench, leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

Why did I feel like I wanted to kick a puppy? It's not as if Adam and I
were going out... we hadn't even really had sex... so what the fuck was
wrong with me?

I sat up straight again and opened my eyes to see a group of several
13-year-old girls stopped in front of me, just staring. They looked rather
startled when I sat up so abruptly, but they didn't look away. I stared
right back. Several seconds went by, and they just stayed there. No fuckin'
manners, I swear...

"Go ahead," I snapped. "Keep staring. I might do a trick." They looked kind
of scared, and they quickly scurried away, whispering amongst themselves
and peeking back at me as they got farther and farther away.

I sighed, and relaxed back into the uncomfortable wooden bench. I closed my
eyes, but all I could see was Adam and Amanda. Amanda and Adam. I could see
her perky little smile and hear her perky fucking voice chirping in my
head.

I opened my eyes and looked at the wall where Adam was. And yes, there he
was, sitting on a wooden bench much like the one I was sitting on, with
Amanda standing next to him.

But it now seemed that Amanda was attached to his face.

I felt a sick feeling deep in my gut as I watched the fluffy little blond
girl kissing Adam.

My Adam.

Christ.

I wanted to vomit.

I didn't know what to do. I certainly didn't want to sit there and watch
the two of them suck each other's faces off, but what the hell else was
there to do? Throw a Jerry Springer and jump on the girl, screaming "bitch,
that's my man!"?

Of course not. I refused to make any bigger of an ass of myself. I'd done
that for long enough. I averted my eyes from the "cute little couple" and
stood up, walking toward the mall exit.

To hell with this. To hell with Adam, to hell with Amanda, to hell with my
sister... they could all just go fuck themselves as far as I was concerned.

At least that's what I told myself as tears began leaking down my face as I
reached the parking lot.

I found our car and got in, burying my face in my hands.

I wished I were back in California, back where I knew everyone and where
everything was, back where I had access to every drug I could possibly want
in times like this. Back home. Back where I was comfortable. Where I didn't
have to bother with people like Adam, people who tore into my heart and
refused to leave my head.

I tried my best to stop the tears, but to no avail. I grew angry at
myself. I shouldn't have been crying over this! For Christ's sake, it's not
like he was my fucking boyfriend!

So we'd kissed. Big fucking deal. I'd kissed other boys before, and
thinking of them kissing other people didn't make me want to crawl into a
hole and die.

So we'd fooled around. Like I said, big fucking deal! That was nothing
new. It's not as if no one had ever touched my cock.

But then again... no one had ever had the kind of power over me that he
did. No one could make me glow for hours with a simple smile. No one could
make me so wonderfully nervous and happy and terrified all at the same
time. He was the only person who'd ever made me feel like everything would
be okay as long as he held me in his arms. Hell, he was the only person
who'd ever made me feel like ANYthing was EVER okay.

Bloody fucking hell.

I was in love.

No! No, no, no. This isn't right, I told myself. I can't be in love with
him. I just... cant.

I banged my forehead against the dashboard. This is not happening. I am not
in love with Adam. I am NOT in love with him. I am going to go home and
sleep and in the morning this will all be okay, because I am not in love
with him. It isn't possible. No fucking way.

Bullshit, said the little nagging voice in the back of my head. You are too
in love with him. Look at yourself, you're a fucking mess. Admit it. You're
hopelessly in love.

"Oh god," I groaned to myself through the tears that refused to stop.

I couldn't escape this. I was fully, utterly in love with Adam, and there
was nothing I could do to change it, as much as I wished otherwise. I
screwed my eyes shut, my head resting on the dashboard.

Fuck. Just... fuck. How had I managed to get myself into this? Ugh. Why had
I ever bothered with Adam? I should have known things would get fucked up
somehow. I should have known he was too good to be true.

The door to the driver's side of the car was flung open, and I looked up to
see my sister standing outside the station wagon, a look of flaming rage in
her normally soft gray eyes.

"What in the holy name of fuck happened?" she demanded of me. "Why aren't
you and Adam making up? Why are you crying? What the fuck did he do? Answer
me!"

I opened my mouth to answer her. But all that came out was a small,
strangled noise. I couldn't force the words to come, and I couldn't stop
the tears from falling down my face. I turned my face back to the dashboard
and banged my forehead against it again.

Violet got in the car and shut the door. She reached over and rubbed my
back as I cried silent tears. I heard her growl slightly.

"I'm going to kill him," she muttered with finality. "I'm going to gut him
like a mother fucking fish."

I shook my head without looking up.

"Take me home," I choked out. "I just want to go home..."

She leaned over to hug me, though I didn't make the effort to hug her
back. I just couldn't look at her. I wanted to disappear.

The drive to Gracie's house was long, the silence only interrupted by my
hiccups, and an occasional menacing grumble under my sister's breath.

When we got there, I went straight to my room, eyes pointed at the floor,
ignoring my sister's offer to talk and bypassing Gracie without so much as
a hello.

I collapsed onto my bed and stared blankly into the TV screen, not
comprehending the sounds and pictures coming from the set.

I should have known better. Once I found out Adam had a girlfriend, I
should have let it go... should have let him go. What reason did I have to
think that Adam could possibly choose me over Amanda? He'd already been
with her for two months, which was 4 times as long as I'd even known
him. She was pretty and blonde and from looking at her, popular... but
first and foremost, she was female. Why would Adam put himself through the
hell of a teenaged gay relationship when he was already in what seemed on
the outside to be a perfect straight relationship? Even if it wasn't
perfect... it was normal, and that was what mattered.

That was what it came down to. Why bother with me when he had a normal
relationship going? Why bother being with a guy... an unusually tall,
strange, angry, fucked up gay guy... when you could be with a normal,
happy, straight girl?

It was hopeless.

I could see no reason for Adam to be with me -- and if even *I* couldn't
think of a reason, when I wanted him to be with me so badly, well... there
probably wasn't one.

I curled up and wrapped my arms around myself, barely able to muster up the
energy to breath, my tears finally slowing, feeling rejected, empty, and
alone.

Utterly alone.

And I slept.

********************

I spent the next two days on that mattress in the basement, only getting up
to use the bathroom. I spent most of the time staring at the TV, not really
knowing or caring what was on, with that same painfully empty feeling
inside me, trying to forget who Adam was. But it wouldn't work. His face
kept popping into my mind. The memory of us, together, kissing, holding
hands, brought such intense pain... Then the memory of Adam with his
girlfriend, her with her annoyingly perky voice and perfect blond hair, him
with that ever-apologetic look... the memory of the two of them kissing
kept replaying in my head, like a video, rewound and played over and over.

I didn't eat. I couldn't. The very idea of food made me sick to my
stomach. I didn't want to ever leave that small, dark room. I smoked
cigarettes with a shaking hand, slept most of the day and tried to ignore
the strong pains in my stomach, and in my heart.

My sister, of course, was doing her best to drive me insane. But I couldn't
be bothered. When she yelled at me for closing myself off from her, all I
could do was look up at her with hollow eyes and weakly tell her to leave
me alone. She tried cheering me up, but that earned much the same response.

Gracie tried several times to cheer me up, bringing me mugs of herbal tea
and various herbal pills, but I couldn't be bothered. I slurped down the
tea and avoided any conversation.

By the end of the second day, I had the feeling Violet was ready to commit
a murder, be it Adam's or mine. I managed to explain to her what had
happened at the mall, in as few words as I could manage, and my explanation
had sent her storming out of my room, muttering obscenities and flinging
her hands around angrily.

On the third afternoon, Violet announced to me that she was sick and tired
of my moping, and that I was going to go out and spend the day with
her. The idea was completely and utterly unappealing, but it didn't seem
that I had a choice. She pulled me out of bed, ignoring my groans of
protest, shoved me into the shower and practically dressed me herself. As
much as I didn't want to go anywhere, I didn't have the will to protest too
much. I just didn't care anymore.

We drove around aimlessly for an hour or so, Violet making various
suggestions for activities while I stared listlessly out the window,
rejecting every one.

We ended up in some fast food burger joint. Violet was watching me as I
idly played with my French fries, swirling them in ketchup, not really
interested in eating them.

"For Christ's sake, Reevie," she said. "Just eat something. It isn't going
to kill you."

I sighed, and popped a fry into my mouth, exaggerating my chewing for my
sister's benefit.

"Happy?" I asked dully.

She frowned. "Of course I'm not happy," she said angrily. "Look at
yourself! You haven't eaten in days, you look like shit, and you're acting
like someone just ate your pet hamster. How am I supposed to be happy when
my twin is fucking miserable right next to me?" she demanded.

I sighed again. How was I supposed to answer that? I loved my sister and
all, but what was I supposed to do? Pretend to be happy for her sake? I
couldn't do that. She would see right through it, anyway.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "It's not like I'm doing it on purpose."

Violet sighed. "I know, Reevie. I'm sorry. But you're just so
depressing. You need to have some FUN for god's sake!" A slow smile spread
over her face. I didn't like that smile. That's the smile that always gets
me in trouble. "Mike and Stefan are having a party at their place. You and
I are going."

I groaned, closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. So this was
why I'd been dragged out of bed. It was all much clearer now. I know my
sister's intentions were good, but a party was the last place I wanted to
be. I wanted to be back in my basement, asleep, where I wouldn't have the
option of thinking about Adam. That was all I wanted. But no. I couldn't
even have that.

I tried resisting, of course. I always do. And like always, it didn't
work. Violet always gets her way, no matter how long it takes, and I wasn't
in a state of mind to spend the entire day arguing about it. I knew she'd
win eventually. Besides, she was the one with the car keys. I cursed my
lack of license.

When we were back on the road, my sister was unusually happy. Exuberant,
even. The smile plastered on her face didn't falter for a moment, even as
she sang loudly along with some loud, bass-heavy song on the radio. That
was the smile that usually drove me insane.

And still, as much as I tried, I couldn't keep Adam off my mind for more
than a few minutes at a time. I wondered what he was doing. Was he thinking
of me? WHAT was he thinking of me? Did he hate me for making his life so
complicated? Was he mad at me for making him question his sexuality?

Or even worse, was I completely excluded from his thoughts? Had he all but
forgotten about me, about what we had shared, if only for one night?

I sighed, leaning my head against the glass of the car window, watching the
trees whiz by.

We came upon a house, much like our own new suburban home, perhaps half a
dozen cars parked in the driveway and on the street. Loud music could be
heard coming from within. My sister all but dragged me by the arm up the
walkway and into the house. When the door was opened, I was hit in the face
by a cloud of smoke and a round of cheers from the already-drunken people
within.

"Hey!" squealed a very drunk Kristi, jumping up to hug me, pink hair that
smelled faintly of vodka flying into my face. She immediately grabbed me by
the hand and began dragging me around the house, introducing me to various
other obviously drunk people. I just let myself be helplessly dragged and
said a brief 'hi' to everyone Kristi introduced me to. Eventually she got
distracted by a rather cute redheaded girl in a very tight dress, and left
me to my own devices, stranded in the middle of a crowded living room.

Thank god, I thought to myself, making my way to the kitchen. There I found
Stefan sweet-talking a rather effeminate blond boy in the corner, who
seemed to be very much enjoying Stefan's attention.

I sighed. Was everyone in the goddamn universe enjoying his or her love
life except me? I glanced around the living room, my eyes passing over at
least a dozen couples in various states of flirting and making
out. Apparently it was true. Everyone had luck in love, except me.

I sighed again, and found my way to the fairly empty back yard. The only
other person there was a disheveled-looking blond girl either sleeping or
passed out in a lawn chair. I took the half-smoked, still-lit cigarette
from her fingers and brought it to my own lips. She wouldn't miss it.

I sat in another one of the lawn chair and finished off the
cigarette. Unfortunately it was menthol. But I couldn't really make myself
care. Extinguishing the butt with the bottom of my shoe, I waded through
the sea of dancing drunks in the living room, scanning for my sister. Where
the hell was she?

I got to the front door and went out in front, seating myself in a
porch-swing. I scanned the row of cars lined up in front of the house.

The puke-green of our station wagon was missing.

I shot up out of the seat. Had my crazy sister left me here alone? What the
fucking hell was that about?

I burst back through the front door and shoved my way into the kitchen,
where Stefan was now lip-locked with his little blond friend.

"Stef!" I said loudly, trying to be heard over the blaring music.

"Whaaaaaat," he complained, turning toward me with an annoyed look on his
face.

"Have you seen Violet anywhere?"

"Yeah, she left about 10 minutes ago. Said she'd be right back." With that,
Stefan rolled his eyes and turned back to his blond, who giggled happily
and resumed trying to suck Stefan's tongue out of his mouth.

A loud, aggravated sound exploded from my mouth and I stamped my foot like
a child. I stormed out of the kitchen and back out to the front yard. I
scanned the street, looking for our car. Five minutes went by. Then another
five, and I was ready to hunt Violet down and strangle her.

I heard the car before I saw it, the loud growling of the engine preceding
my sister's arrival. The car pulled up to the curb and the engine shut off.

I started angrily toward the car, all kinds of threats and insults ready to
come spewing out at my sister. She got out of the driver's side and grinned
widely at me. Just as I pointed an angry finger at her and opened my mouth
to speak, I was stunned silent as Adam himself came clambering out of the
passenger side door.

God damn it.


***********************


Erm. Yes. Dear god it's been a long time since I've updated this... I'm
sorry, I really am. I lost motivation to write it about a year ago, then a
few weeks ago I got the random urge to continue. So I did. And here we are
then. Meh.

I dunno how long it will take me to post the next chapter... hopefully no
more than a week or two, as I seem to be on a sort of a roll with it... but
I'm not making any promises.

So! what do you all think? I hope I havent mutilated the story or anything,
seeing how long it's been since I last wrote any of it.

Anywho... email me at: Smpthy4TheDevil@yahoo.com