chapter twenty! ☆

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Had nobody seriously talked to Adam? Shit, shit, shit!

Holy shit, he was really glad that Dave wasn't here.

Taylor tried to steal a glance at Nate as he sat back on the couch, but his face was blank; unreadable. Probably for the best. If his face was filled with melodramatic horror, Landry definitely would've questioned that.

Landry yawned into her hand as the N64 booted up. It was mildly interesting, really. Where had she heard that album name before?

"Drunk Mario Kart, or regular Mario Kart?" she asked, though her mind was still on the album name.

"Regular," Nate said, through a yawn of his own: oops, it looked like she'd accidentally triggered him. "I can't drink this early."

"Yeah, me neither."

The Colour and the Shape....The Colour and the Shape...

Then, after three months of knowing Dave, it hit her.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT!

 

LANDRY QUIETLY EXCUSED HERSELF TO THE BASEMENT BATHROOM FIVE MINUTES AFTER THE EPIPHANY.

Already breathing heavy as she shut the door, she sank down on the floor, her back pressed up against the bathtub. It wasn't a bad thing, no, not at all...it was just a lot to process.

The song pounded over the party faded out into a new one, replaced with a somewhat quiet melody that Landry didn't recognize, but upon hearing it, Hope went berserk.

She immediately tugged on Landry's wrist. "This is my song!"

"What?" she yelled back, a bit confused when the melody was so quiet compared to a typical party anthem.

Hope was excited, now. "We need to dance!"

At that moment, the strong electric guitar of the song kicked in, and Landry immediately understood why Hope liked this song so much. She still didn't know the song, but she unconsciously found her foot tapping along to the exciting beat: she'd never heard anything like this before, and it was captivating. Had her mind not been so muddled by the alcohol, she would've asked Hope for the name of the song, but in the thick of the party, she couldn't.

"Hello..."

"I've waited here for you!" Hope screamed back, and before Landry could inevitably get swept away onto the dancefloor, she stole one last sip of her drink, glancing around for a place she could discard it.

Sure enough, Hope was tugging her onto the dance floor already. "Let's dance, bitch!"

It was him.

How had she never realized it was him?

Landry swallowed thickly. Simply put, she couldn't believe it was him.

Again, she wasn't mad, it was just a lot to process.

They weren't amateurs at what they were doing. This was a famous band - like, Grammy-nominated famous. Famous enough that Hope blared their album - The Colour and the Shape - around the apartment until Landry could recite the tracklist by memory, even if she'd never bothered to listen to them herself, deep into her Evelyn-induced Pantera obsession. How had it taken her this long to find out? Now that she knew, there was no way she'd been able to unsee it.

Ever since she'd found out, it had felt as if someone had plunged their hand into her chest, grabbed her heart, and started squeezing, not so much that it hurt per se, just uncomfortable, and she couldn't breathe right. It was though a massive weight had been placed on her chest, and she'd carried that ceaseless dull pain with her ever since.

How exactly was she supposed to digest this information? Should she have been mad that he never told her about this fairly obvious piece of information?

And what the fuck were the Foo Fighters doing in Virginia, of all places?

He's from Springfield, her thoughts answered her. He told you that, when you first hung out.

Vaguely, Landry felt sick. She felt as though she'd been lied to, or at the very least, misled.

She swallowed heavily: in addition to the squeezing in her chest, there was a lump in her throat that she couldn't seem to get rid of.

Blinking rapidly, she gathered the energy to pull herself up from the bathroom floor and stare at herself in the mirror. Looking into her own big brown eyes, it didn't seem to reflect her true emotions - shock, confusion, slightly nauseous, and whatever else she was feeling. They wouldn't be able to tell that she wasn't fine.

She smirked at her reflection. Thanks, Elizabeth.


"I NEED TO GO," Landry announced as soon as she'd left the bathroom. "I forgot that Hope wanted to have a movie night tonight. She's probably gonna be wondering where I went if I don't get back soon."

This was a lie, of course: Hope had barely even looked at her since she'd been found unconscious on the floor, let alone spoken to her, and beyond that, they hadn't been close enough for movie night in years. Taylor and Nate and Adam didn't need to know that, though.

(Years ago, Hope had given her permission to use her name to get out of any social situation she wasn't comfortable with, and she was still shamelessly using it. God, she wished they were still that close.)

"Aw," Taylor chirped, looking up ather from the couch. From the looks of it, Dave still hadn't returned, which was a relief. "Have fun, Landry!"

"See you," Nate and Adam said in unison, both too distracted by the Mario Kart game on the boxy TV to look at her.

A bit hurt, Landry climbed up the stairs from view without another word, and wasted no time getting away from the cabin.

The dented Volvo couldn't drive fast enough.

Angry red bills were starting to pile up on the kitchen table by the time she got home.


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