Story Time!

Well this hasn't been updated in awhile.

 

Story Time! Part 8

A few days in the future...

Nick awoke to the familiar sound of his ringtone. He struggled to find the phone which he placed inconveniently on the dresser.
"What?" He asked groggily, not even bothering with the formalities.
"Nicky! I had the best idea just now." Genie's high-pitched voice did nothing for the pain in his temple.
"Do you know what time it is?" He asked, as he stared at the digital number in horror,
"Nick, we're going shopping."
"It's five in the goddamned morning."
"Camila told me you like clothes, and I like clothes, it works!"
"You woke me up at five in the morning!" Nick said disbelievingly.
"Be ready in like two hours, we're gonna hit the mall. I'll pick you up."
"But-" She hung up. "What?!" He stood there, in his boxers, staring at his phone, and hoped that this was just a scarily realistic nightmare. He sighed, feeling the sinking feeling that it was all too real. He supposed he should probably do...something. Shower. Yes, he should do that.

He really wished he hadn’t stayed up so late. God, last night was so weird. Emmett just had to take him out for a drink. Just one...

Flashback...

“Come on bro, don’t be a wimp.” Emmett said as he stood before an unimpressed Nick.
“No. How did you know where I was staying?” Nick suspected Genie had revealed his uber secret location. Damn it. He didn't want to have to kill her. Oh god, I need to spend less time with her. I’m becoming her, he thought to himself.
“I have my sources.” the other man said coyly, a ridiculously crooked grin half formed on his lips,
“Stalker.”
“Just one. I’ll get you some fruity shit, you’ll love it. We can put fuckin’ pineapple juice all up in it, it’ll be great. You can’t just spend all your time with a couple girls who you know will never ever do it with you, y’know?”
“Yes I can. I wouldn’t even if they offered. Camila’s like my little sister, and Genie’s...nah, she’s just a kid.” The slightly older man had to consider this for a second, which the other noted dimly.
“Just come on.”
“Don’t you have other friends to pester?”
“Yeah, but you’re just so pathetically alone. I figured you needed it.”
“God, you’re so annoyingly persistent.”
“Funny, that’s what Cam said, too. Right after we-” the half grin turned into one of triumph. He was not one to brag about his conquests. He had many moral limits, including not being a prick about what he’s done with his girlfriends, but this one was one he was especially proud of, besides, plus he understood how Nick would feel about it.
“OKAY. LET’S GO.” he predictably half shouted, red climbing up his neck. He knew this look; he’d seen it on many douchey male friends' faces as they bragged about what they'd gotten a girl to do with them. He refused to believe Camila would even allow him to touch her in any sort of romantic form, or any other, for that matter. He also knew that he was playing into Emmett’s bluff, that he should’ve just closed the door, but now he was committed.
“Good choice, Nico.” the triumphant male said as they made the journey to the elevator and then down to the lobby, and finally, to Emmett’s slightly embarrassing hybrid, covered in bumper stickers and flames.
“And I thought my car sucked.”
“Hey, it’s fuel efficient.” Emmett defended the car, whom he had fondly taken to calling Little Red, in private, of course. Nick could barely fit in the thing, head touching the ceiling.

* * * * *

“NIIIICOOOOO BRO.” Emmett stumbled slightly as he made his ever so graceful exit from the pool game, after becoming too drunk to see straight.
Such a little guy, kinda impressive. Nick admitted, as he marveled at Emmett's tolerance for alcohol with some sick fascination. He sat on the stool in the crappy bar they found after a couple of minutes on google maps. Nick didn't mind, though, the bartender was pretty enough to distract him. He'd been watching Emmett make an idiot of himself, sipping peacefully on a Sprite.
“What?” Nick said.
“You lihke that girl, don’ you?” He slurred.
“Well, she-she’s pretty, I don’t know her though.”
“You should ashk her outtt.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Uh...because that’s how ‘t works. Meet girl ask girl out, date girl, maybe do ehem, you know, fall in love, all that sappy shit.”
“Uh...I’d prefer not to.”
“You’re such a pussy. Errr, maybe...Nicho, areyhugay ?” the inquiry surprised even the asker.
“Uh...no. I think. I’m not completely clear on what it is you’re saying.”
“It’s okahhhy, I’m acceptin’, raaaaainbowssss and shi’. You can tell meh.”
“No, I’m not gay.”
“You sure you aren’...likhe, thinkin’ of ‘t?” Nick turned his head to look at the other man incredulously, slightly surprised to see a blush painting his face.
“Fuck off.” Nick bit his tongue. He hated cursing. At least out loud. Even then, he just didn’t like it. It sounded wrong coming from his mouth. But he was understandably frustrated,
“I amm ope’ and shit, cmmon, know you want to. Be you are, my child. Uh..who yuh aree.” the drunk Asian man preached, eyes half-lidded, with his hands on his hips. Much like Camila, when she was being all bossy (Nick would make this connection shortly afterwards).
“I’m not gay.”
“Well...you know, if you need someone...um...” he gets an odd look on his face. Almost as if the words spewing from his inane mouth are not his own, and he is practically scarlet. Nick got an odd prickling feeling on his scalp, and he certainly didnt’t know what to make of it.
“Uh...Emmett, I should get you home. You’re drunk.”
“...Okay.”
Nick insisted on driving. Emmett busied himself with being annoying.
“Nico, whyyyyy don’t ya get togeser wit Cam?”
“Y’know, it’s the tiniest bit odd that you’re pushing your ex-girlfriend on me, just a little.”
“Meh, I’m ovver ittt. She broke up wit me ‘cause I was leavin’ state. Make sense.”
“No moral qualms whatsoever?”“Nope.”
“Huh...how long did you guys last?”
“Eh, not that long. few months.”
“Huh...” Nick wasn’t quite sure how he felt about this. The thought of her dating someone was unsettling in itself, let alone this guy, who didn’t strike him really as her type. The other man shrugged, but didn’t pester him about her more.
“I think I might have a thing for Red.” he murmurs, head against the cool glass, staring out into the wide expanse of dark nothing zooming past him, indicated only by the lonely street lamps on the narrow road. It was insufferably hot and stuffy, even in the car, with the AC on.
“What?” Nick glanced at him, surprised.
“God, that’s fucked up isn’t it?” He looked at the driver, realization dawning on him.
“She’s even more of a kid than Cam...and you know how Cam is.” he runs a hand through the dark, unruly mass atop his skull.
“Why do you think that?” Nick said, curiosity piqued.
“I dunno, she’s just so...I dunno.” He then proceeded to fall asleep, snoring and drooling almost instantaneously.
“What the Hell.” Nick said to himself, feeling confused... and tired, so very tired.

He couldn’t be bothered to find Emmett’s presumed hovel, so he left him at Camila’s house, after very carefully only waking up Camila. She was the only one who really knew what to do with drunk Emmett. Plus, he knew she’d take him in. He took advantage of the deep rooted feelings he had soon realized she felt for him, after another long night of sitting inside of her bedroom, the occasional mosquito buzzing in through the open windows. She refused to leave the door open, anyways, so it was still quite hot.
“I bet he came onto you, eh?”
“I...I think so. He insinuated something gay...”
“He’s a weird guy. Super dirty drunk. Why’d you bring him here?” She wrinkled her nose at him.
“He’s not my problem to take care of.” He said, knowing she’d take him regardless.
“Not mine, either.”
“He was though. Besides, you’ve got the big ass basement.”
“You could just take him back to your hotel.”
“I considered it, but taking a drunk guy home at 3AM would be kind of odd, considering the people in this specific town.”
“Fine. God, I thought I was done with this.”
“And yet, you still do it.” he observed.
She sighed and looked at Emmett almost wistfully, as if she might want to do something sappy, like touch him. “Yeah.”

He helped her carry his dead weight down into the basement, lying him down on the slightly ratty couch.
“What do you feel for him?” He knew it was not the time to be asking this, but he couldn’t help but be curious.
“I-I don’t know. Now get out of my house, asshole.” she commanded, and he obeyed.
He got home at about 3AM.

...End Flashback.

Nick had almost fallen asleep in the shower. He was thoroughly exhausted and debated whether he should even attempt to fight Genie on this. After all, he did only get 2 hours of sleep. What if he simply refused to go? Easier said than done. He pulled his boxers on as he stumbled out of the bathroom, passing out, his hair still wet.

Hours later, Genie came banging on his door.
"Nick!"
"Ah...give me a second." He scrambled, picking up the shirt and jeans from the ground. They were from last night, and smelled like alcohol and vomit. He hastily opened the door.
"Hey there, um...so...shopping?"
"You smell like crap." She wrinkled her nose. It is only then that he realized his mistake.
"Um..." He closed the door in her face, and tried again.
"What the hell?" She said, as he reopened it. He wass slightly less rumpled as he was previously, which was a good sign.
"And you look like shit. How long did you stay up?"
"Uh..."
"No matter. We'll just get you some coffee." She smiled at him and pulled him out into the world.

* * * * *

"What do you think?" Genie does a little twirl in her dress, which was a little too high cut for Nick's taste. If Camila had been there, she would've slapped him for staring as he did. No harm, though. It's not as if he's doing anything bad, he reasoned with himself. Or, more accurately, his inner Camila, with her constant, disapproving look.
"I think that I'm going to fall asleep." He admitted truthfully.
"We've only been here three hours."
"ONLY three hours?"
"But...Cammy never goes shopping with me. I mean, sure, I have other friends, but Cammy..." She trailed off. Nick understood. She wanted Camila's honesty, entertaining blunders, crippling shyness. Nick was as close as she's gotten. This was not as to say that he was second best, she assured him, but that he was not the same person. Which he didn’t quite buy, but whatever.

They, referring to himself and Genie, never really spent time together. Well, not alone, anyways. Camila was the bridge, allowing them to cross over into friendships derived from the central one. Regardless, he was a bit surprised to find more depth in her than he'd previously seen, which was unusual to say the least. He usually thought himself quite perceptive when it came to people. Likewise, Genie found that the conversations, while louder and less reserved than the ones with Camila, who could never find a volume that suited her, either too quiet or too loud, were a bit more entertaining, if anything. Nick was easy to entertain, laughing at most things regardless of whether or not they were very funny. Though he tended to complain quite a bit, they did have a nice time. Genie had bought him a fedora, which she insisted on him wearing. The girl herself bought a large amount of clothing, including a ridiculous hot pink flat cap, which she donned proudly.

The two left arm in arm, though Nick had to draw the line at skipping because he insisted that he was not a character from the Wizard of Oz, and even if he was, surely he would not skip. It was quite unmanly to do so. He simply kept dragging on about how manly he was, to Genie’s distaste. It was hard to picture him as her gay best friend with him running his mouth like that. It really was a cryin’ shame that he was straight.
“I want a gay best friend.” she told him, matter-of-factly in the car, as she waited patiently for him to situate himself properly.
“Uh...okay?”
“Would you be my gay best friend if you were?”
“Well, I guess so. But I’m not, sorry to disappoint.” he smiled idly at her, not really bothered by it.
“That stinks.”
“I know, life is so hard.” he teased.
“You’re beginning to sound like Camila. Hashtag first world probs?”
“Hashtag first world probs.” He agreed vehemently.

Emmett woke up very gradually, practically forcing himself. He was slightly confused, and his head ached. He's in a location he knew all too well; Camila's house, though he didn't usually wake up in the basement. Usually, Camila would simply shoo him away, giving him some form of affection, and a farwell, after she woke him up, promptly at seven, and if she was being generous, seven-thirty. This was of course so no one found him sleeping there. She couldn't live with herself if anyone found her sleeping with some guy, at least in her parents house. He wondered what he was doing here now, though. Last night was a blur. He hoped he didn't break into her house.
"Hey asshole." Camila said, startling him.
"Ah! I thought you were your mom."
"I highly doubt my mom would say "hey asshole," under any circumstances." She grinned at him, taking pleasure in scaring someone, which she did very rarely. "You got drunk. And then you tried to get into Nick's pants."
"Uh...yeah, you're funny."
"But it's so true. Did I ever tell you how messed up you are?"
"Yeah. Plenty of times. It's a pretty regular thing, actually." He cradled his head in his hands, "My head," he groans.
"Asprin's in the bathroom. Be quick. No one's up yet, but they will be soon."
"Ugh. Okay." He muttered, and looked at her. She was still standing there, looking at him.
"What? Did I do something else? Kill a goat? Rape a tree? Pee on an old lady? All of the above?"
"No. I have a question." She looked at him for permission, an odd quirk she still retained.
"Uh...okay?"
"Why'd you go?"
"Why did I go where? To the bar with Nico?" He clarified, confused about her hesitancy. She took a moment, before nodding.
"I...I don't know. Guess I felt as though I should? There was no real reason, really."
"Impulsive."
"You know it."
She sighed. An odd, pensive look on her face, not one he was unused to. He wanted to know, kind of, what was on her mind, but, ultimately decided not to. He stood up hastily, rubbing his aching temple,
"Uh...I'll see you around, I guess." He said, feeling slightly awkward. She bit her lip.
"I'll drive you home, to wherever you're staying."
He smiled at her. "You know where it is. You've been there before."
"Your parents house?"
"Bingo."
"Oh god." She turned and walked up the stairs without another word. He watched her go, and sighed as the door closed. Emmett located the aspirin quickly, in the medicine cabinet of the small, yet clean bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, noting how utterly awful he looked. He wondered what his parents would say, and yet funnily, he didn't care.

 

Meh. After telling Qin I didn't like it I decided that I did like it there.

 

We're actually both very interested with this story and today's the first day we've really sat down and tried to work out a plot. Hopefully something good comes from it!

Along with that, I'm in love with this story. She's on the ropes... But I won't let this die. It isn't about the readers (or even the lack of)... It's just about enjoying what we're doing. And I think that's what the whole process of writing really should be/is about.

 

Bump, because I love this and I like seeing it at the top.