Date: Sun, 19 Oct 2003 00:53:33 -0700 (PDT)
From: Zoe <smpthy4thedevil@yahoo.com>
Subject: What Are The Odds? pt. 7 (highschool)

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 7

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

What the hell was wrong with my sister? Sometimes I could swear that her
purpose in life is to drive me to the point of insanity. What on earth had
compelled her to bring Adam -- the source of all the pain I'd felt in the
last two weeks -- to the party I was attending?

I opened my mouth, and no sound came out. I closed my mouth, then opened it
again, and closed it once more.

Violet should thank her lucky stars that I'm not violent, because if I
were, oh dear lord she'd be in for a world of hurt.

I glanced from Violet to Adam and back. Without saying anything, I turned
on my heel and stormed into the house. Finding an empty couch, I hurled
myself down onto it, hearing the frame creak in protest. I snatched up a
red plastic cup from an end table next to me and downed whatever alcoholic
concoction was in it. A small Asian girl opened her mouth to protest, as it
was probably hers, but when she saw the look in my eyes, she apparently
decided against it, and stumbled into the kitchen, presumably to pour
herself another drink.

I heard the front door being opened, and of course, to my dismay, it was
Violet, with her ever-cheerful smile, Adam's hand in hers, tugging him
toward me. She stopped in front of me, grinning brilliantly, apparently
waiting for me to say something. Adam was standing just behind her, staring
at the carpet. He glanced up at me, and upon seeing the look on my face, he
winced, and looked back toward the floor.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I hissed up at my sister from the
couch. I glared up at Adam, though he wouldn't look at me. I got the
distinct feeling he wanted to be here even less than I wanted him here. But
my sister, well... she could be persuasive.

The sparkle in my sister's eyes quickly turned into something else,
something I hadn't seen directed at me in a very long time. The look in her
eyes was pure fire. She turned to Adam, grabbed him by the shoulders, and
shoved him down onto the couch. He yelped slightly, having been caught
off-guard.

I immediately stood, but was quickly shoved back down by Violet. I looked
up at her in surprise.

"Siddown," she growled. Her gray eyes were dark, and there was something
almost scary about the look she was giving me. She crossed her arms,
glaring first at me, then at Adam. "You two," she said quietly, but with a
certain tone in her voice that made it clear her directions were to be
obeyed 'or else,' "are going to sit here and talk. Neither one of you is
leaving until you've worked out this crap, because the both of you are
driving me crazy."

She shifted her weight to one foot and put her hands on her hips, still
glaring suspiciously at us both. "I'll be watching you," she said, her
voice dangerously low.

I glanced over at Adam, who looked quite terrified of my sister... with
good reason, I suppose. When Violet gets like this, you better damn well do
what she says. Hell, *I* was close to being scared of her at this point.

Then, suddenly the cheer returned to her eyes, a bright smile crossed her
face, and she flounced off into the crowd, as if none of this little
confrontation had happened. All I could do was stare after her.

And then I remembered Adam. God damn it.

I wasn't going to talk to him. I refused to even look at him. Because god
damn it, this was all his fault.

He cleared his throat, but he didn't say anything. I could practically feel
him staring at me, but I just glared straight ahead, ignoring him.

Then he spoke. "Reeve..."

No! my mind screamed at him. You're supposed to keep quiet. I don't want to
hear from you. I don't care what you have to say. Just keep your mouth
shut, don't look at me, don't talk to me.

He cleared his throat and spoke again. "Reeve, look at me..."

Fine, I thought. You want me to look at you, I'll look at you. So I turned
my head until his worried expression came into view, giving him a cold
stare. He blinked, apparently not expecting such a look from me.

"Listen," I said icily. "I don't want you here, and you obviously don't
want to be here. So let's just sit here and ignore each other until my
sister figures out that we're not going to 'kiss and make up' or whatever
it is she thinks this will accomplish." I turned back, glaring straight
ahead, arms tightly crossed.

"Um." He paused, clearing his throat once more. "I... I just wanted to
apologize... I -"

"Fine," I interrupted. "You've apologized. Now leave me alone."

"Reeve --"

"Shut up."

There was a short pause, and then,

"Reeve, please, I --"

"God damn it!" I snapped, whipping my head back to face him with an acerbic
glare. "Don't you get it? I'm done listening to you! I don't want to hear
any more apologies. I got it, okay? You're fucking sorry. Sorry doesn't
change what happened, and sorry doesn't make anything better, so just shut
your fucking mouth and leave me alone."

I turned, once again, to stare straight ahead of me. And for once, Adam was
silent.

I wasn't so sure I wanted him to be.

There was a small part of me - very small indeed - that wanted to hear what
he had to say. Maybe - just maybe - he had something worthwhile to say
about this whole thing. Maybe he had something new to tell me.

But of course then I rationalized that thought right out of my head. What
the hell else could he possibly say that would do any good? More apologies
certainly wouldn't help.

This was almost like torture. I just wanted to get the hell out of there.

My eyes scanned the room for my sister. I saw Mike sitting in a Lay-Z-Boy
with a flimsy little brunette girl in his lap, and Stefan in a corner
practically having sex with his blond friend, though they were both still
mostly clothed. But where was my sister?

I wanted to stand up and go look for her. It's not like I was enjoying this
little "Adam time." But as much as I didn't want to be next to Adam, the
urge not to be inflicted with my sister's wrath was stronger. So I stayed
seated.

I spied another red plastic cup with something in it, so while that same
Asian girl had her back turned, I reached out and took it, gulping down the
foul alcoholic liquid. When the girl turned and found her drink consumed by
me once again, she gave me a withering stare, rolled her eyes and went to
mingle on the other side of the room.

For a while, I just drummed my fingers on the arm of the couch, listening
to the ear-piercing music. I tried my best not to look at any of the
couples around me, as most were sickeningly affectionate.

I felt a pang of... I don't know. I think it was jealousy. I wanted what
they had. Why did they get to be so happy and disgustingly cute and perfect
when I had to be so fucking miserable? Why couldn't *I* find someone to be
like that with?

I sneaked a look, out of the corner of my eye, at Adam, who was also
scanning the room, a rather sad look on his face. That look tugged at my
heartstrings, as much as I wanted to ignore it. I cursed at myself in my
head. It shouldn't have affected me... after all, he had hurt me immensely
with what he'd done. Why should I care if he's a little mopey?

'Because you're in love with him,' that goddamn annoying voice in my head
reminded me.

I wished that voice had a face so I could slap it.

Where the hell was Violet? I wanted to go home. I looked through the crowd
again, my head starting to feel a little fuzzy as the effects of whatever
had been in those red cups began to kick in.

Finally I spied my sister in a darkened corner of the room, grinning
flirtatiously at a very stocky brunette boy in a football jersey baring our
high school's logo. I sighed. There was no way she was going to take me
home any time soon, judging by the way she was looking at that football
player.

I cursed my lack of license.

As she turned her head away from me, I practically leapt off the couch and
hurried out the front door, hoping she wouldn't see me. If I couldn't go
home, I was at least going to get away from Adam, and out of this god
damned party.

I sat myself in the porch swing and stared morosely out at the empty
street.

The door creaked open to my side, then clicked shut. Out of the corner of
my eye I could see Adam standing next to the swing, but I refused to look
at him. When he sat himself next to me, I practically snarled, still
staring straight ahead. Though I said nothing, the boy had to know he was
getting on my last goddamn nerve.

"Reeve--" he started.

"Fuck you," I snapped back, still resolving not to look at him, lest I see
what I'm sure was a pitiful expression that would most likely make me melt
into a puddle of goo.

"No, fuck you!" he replied angrily.

I blinked. Oh. That was new. I forgot all about my pledge to not look at
him and turned to look at him, with what I'm sure was a slightly
bewildered, yet irritated expression on my own face.

"What the f--" I started to say, but was cut off by,

"Just shut up for a minute, would you?" Adam demanded. "I've been trying to
talk to you for the past fifteen minutes and all you can do is bitch and
yell at me! I deserve a fucking chance to talk!"

I opened my mouth to reply, but found I didn't have anything to say. Jesus
Christ. I didn't even know how to react to this. I'd never been yelled at
by Adam. I'd scarcely even known he was capable of yelling. The look in
Adam's eyes was one of both anger and sorrow. I just kept my mouth closed
and let him continue.

"I'm sorry for what I did, and I know that saying sorry doesn't change what
happened, but I don't know what else you want me to do about it! It's not
like I can undo it!" He paused, took in a breath of air, and started again,
more quietly this time. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never told you about
Amanda. But... I'm not sorry about what we did." The look in his eyes
changed to one of sadness and distress, and he turned from me to look at
the street.

Fuck. Now he had me feeling sorry for him. I tried my best to push the
feeling out of my mind. I'm still pissed, I told myself. Still pissed. Not
gonna feel sorry for him.

Damn it, he looked so fucking sad and pitiful, I just wanted to wrap my
arms around him and --

No! Stay pissed! Fuck. This wasn't working. Then he started talking again,
this time in a voice so soft I could barely hear him.

"Reeve..." He faltered, turned his gaze to his own lap, then started
again. "Reeve, I-- I know you're really mad at me right now. If I were you
I'd be mad at me too. But I just... I need you to know that what we have --
or... or what we... had... it was... really special to me."

I could see him blinking back tears.

Oh god, no, don't cry. Please don't fucking cry. If you cry, I'll cry, and
it'll ruin my whole emotionless façade, and god damn it I'm trying to act
like I don't care about you. And still I stayed silent, praying Adam didn't
cry.

"I'm sorry I fucked up," he said thickly. "I really am." He let out a shaky
sigh. "Look, I... I don't know if I can put my feelings into words without
sounding like an idiot, but... I've never felt this way about anyone
before. This is totally new territory for me, this whole relationship
thing."

"What about Amanda?" came snarling out of my mouth before I even knew I was
speaking. "You were in a relationship with her Did you tell her the same
thing you're telling me? Does she know you're here tonight?"

Whew. Okay. Now I was pissed again. That worked well. No more feeling sorry
for him.

Adam flinched, still staring down at his lap. "I broke up with her. When
you left the mall that day, I... all I could think about was you. I knew I
couldn't be with her anymore, not when I felt... the way I feel about you."

Oh. Damn. My anger evaporated as quickly as it had come upon me. I was
speechless. He had broken up with her? For me? He'd given up a perfectly
normal, straight relationship with a cute girl... for my cranky,
melodramatic ass?

This does not compute.

I stared at him, openmouthed. "I - you - I --"

My words failed me. All I could do was gape like a jackass.

Finally, Adam looked up at my face. He looked so... so fucking forlorn and
upset. I just couldn't let him sit there with a look in those bright blue
eyes like I just ran over his grandma. But what the hell could I say? My
words failed me. Nothing would come out of my mouth but a vague choking
sound.

Adam tore his sad eyes away from mine and gazed out at the street.

All I could do was stare. I knew I should be saying something, doing
something. But what? He'd just spilled his guts and I was sitting there
next to him, silent, all dazed and stupid.

Jesus Christ, what the hell was I going to do?

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

Eep.

I know, I took like 3 months to get this chapter out... I'm so terribly
sorry. Something happened... I don't know what... but suddenly my mind is
just 'blah' on this story, and I don't know where to go with it. It's
suddenly become uninteresting to me. :-(

I am writing, very slowly and intermittently... so I don't know when the
next chapter will be done... all I can really aim for is 'soon.'

And other than that... thank you to everyone who's sent me email.. You're
all awesome for taking the time to read my story and tell me what you think
of it. :-D

So please! Email me at Smpthy4TheDevil@yahoo.com