"And we're here." Mom neighs delightedly, closing the car door behind her. Her open arms reveal a place I thought could only be this beautiful in a nature catalog.
Green, healthy hills tumble down into an empty valley. A lonesome Sequoia stands errect in the center of the pasture with one looming branch that sticks out, irregular compared to all of it's mates. A tireswing lies just beneath it, protected from the sun by the tree's shade. It floats lazily back, and forth, with the growing, nippy wind. To it's right, a sudden, steep incline. At it's peak is where the Lopez residence resides. At a towering four stories into the air, you could say it looks a bit menacing. Stone gargoyles stand frozen in front of the large double doors, ready to pounce on any possible burglar. The top of the highest tower pokes into the bleak, gray storm clouds just overhead, and a crack of thunder sends me back down to Earth.
I take notice of the red Toyota Camry parked in the driveway. Dad's car. The boys must already be here, then.
"Looks like rain." Arabella whispers doubtfully in my ear. I nod in responce, and trudge up the stone pavement to the front door. Everyone else follows close at foot. I press the glowing button along the doorframe, and a variety of clicks, dings, and dongs erupt from inside the mansion. After about two seconds, the door swings open, disclosing a sloppy faced Jackson, covered in a brown looking substance.
"They have chocolate!" He exclaims, before disappearing around a corner and out of sight.
"I'm guessing we can come in?" I laugh darkly, and prop the door open using one of the demons from outside. I guess they can come in handy, after all?
The living room, or might I say auditorium, has deep maroon carpeting that matches the walls, and columns and columns of luxurious velvet couches, lined up in an orderly fashion. A stereo system, piano, and multiple stringed instruments lie at the head of the room, facing outwards.
"We're in the kitchen!" A foreign, yet familiar voice calls. Sounds feminine, with a hint of an accent to it.
"Eek! Melinda!" Mom rushes forward, edging me out of the way. I sigh, and link arms with Arabella. We follow suit and end up in the kitchen where everyone else seems to be going.
Let me start off by saying I wouldn't even begin to attempt and count the amount of burners they have in here. Every single surface has a different hot plate, as well as pots and pans riddled in every place imaginable. Jackson and Kenny stand off to one side, conversing about something. Jackson spoons out chunks of Nutella and plops it into his mouth. How charming.
Arabella seemed to have dislodged herself from my arm and had found Tanner looking terribly awkward by the side of the magnet-covered frig. A worried expression crosses his hardened features.
"What do you think they're talking about?" Paris mutters by my side, making me look at her. She motions to the two 'Talking-Tammy's' in the corner. And I'm not talking about Arabella and Tanner.
"I don't know, nor do I care." I yap, and tangle my arms around each other.
"Oh, but you do. I know you do." Paris turns to face me, wicked amusement evident on her face. "You love him."
"Yes, and Audrey Hepburn is secretly engaged to Woody from Toy Story. No I don't." I smack my palm against my forehead, and glare at Paris from beneath the slits in my fingers.
"That didn't make any sense." She cocks an eyebrow before clamping her lips into a sick smile. "But love speaks in strange ways!"
"Yeah, whatever." I flop my hand in her face, signalling that I want this conversation to be over.
"Hello, everybody!" The woman that mom had called 'Melinda' stands directly in front of the roudy teenagers, pulling off a motivational speaker type of vibe. "My name's Melinda, in case you didn't already know that. I'm Zoe and Chris's mom. They shound be down shortly. Do you guys want to watch a movie?"
"Sounds okay." Tanner pips up, coming up to join our circle. His eyes appear wet and puffy, while his nose seems red and irritated. Arabella has an arm draped across his shoulders, and a dreadful expression atop her tiny features. I guess I take a moment too long, analyzing his appearance, cause he catches my eye. He gives me a shaky thumbs up, and I return the gesture by nodding slightly.
"We have Despicable Me, The Blind Side, uhh.... The Karate Kid, and Warm Bodies. Decide amongst yourselves what y'all want to watch." Melinda gives a flaky smile, before going back and talking quietly with my mom.
"Warm Bodies. Definitely Warm Bodies." Arabella waggles her head up and down and draws a line with her hand, notifying us all that she won't accept anything else.
"Zombie movie? Sounds boss. I'll go for that." Jackson raises his fist in the air, almost fist-bumping God. But God would never fist-bump someone like Jackson. He should fist-bump me. Right.
"That's fine." I gobble and rest my hands on my shoulders. I steal a glance over in Kenny's direction, and feel my breath squeeze out of my lungs at his face. A pained expression takes over his complexion, and he seems to be suppressing something. He looks around at us, giving us half of a shrug.
"Warm Bodies it is!" Arabella shrieks, dancing around with a unenthusiastic Tanner.
We all navigate over to the movie room, which is not the living room. They have whole rooms dedicated to one separate action, which is a little bit ridiculous. I'm not used to living like this. Multiple leather recliner chairs oppose a drop-down projector, covering an entire, blank wall. A single window on the far wall lets in a single stream of dying light, igniting one square of the floor in a grayish yellow. Jackson skips over, closing the blinds, before launching himself in the front most relaxer. I take a seat near the back and curl up in my jacket, eager to see what type of movie Warm Bodies will prove to be. I never saw it in theaters. In fact, I never see movies when they're in the theaters. It just seems like a waste. Paris takes a seat next to Jackson, and on the other side, Kenny. Arabella and Tanner chose to share one next to mine, advertising their love by their cuddling noises and provocative sitting positions.
A short, brown haired girl appears at the doorway, clutching a blanket in her hands. She stands just short of what I'd presume to be her brother. He has dark blondish hair reaching just above his eyebrows, fashioning a well groomed, healthy attitude. He looks nervous and anxious, as he bites his lip, looking around for something.
"Uh... My name's Chris. This is Zoe. My mom told me that you guys are watching a movie in here?" He squeaks absentmindedly, looking as though he might faint any moment. He looks around Paris' age. Maybe a little older. He's very short for his age, if he is.
"Yeah! Come join us." I flash a welcoming smile, and beckon for him to take a seat alongside us. I shouldn't really be forcing him to do anything, considering this is his house. He sighs, relieved, and travels over to my side, flopping down in the seat. Zoe goes up to take a seat next to Paris, who seems unusually welcoming. Oh wait. Zoe's rich. Nevermind.
"Everyone, sh! The movie's starting!" Arabella shouts, pinning everyone in the room to an uncomfortable silence.
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By the end, I'm practically bawling on the floor in tears. I can't believe that the dad shot him! He was human! He should have known better!
"Come on, stupid." Arabella laughs, heaving me to my feet. She's surprisingly strong for someone so small. The 8 of us journey into the kitchen, where a disheveled looking mother and a restless looking Melinda sit at the counter, staring at the landline phone.
"You okay?" I talk soothingly, pulling up a chair next to mom.
"No. Everything's fine. We just got a call that there's a man a litle uptown who has a gun. He robbed a bank, but we're perfectly secure. Just paranoid." She jumbles her words together somewhat, but I just nod in consolation. I let my eyes wander up to the window above the sink, and take note of the changes to the environment. The rain seemed to have picked up now, coming down in steady riots. The sky, now completely darkened gray, pulls off a threatening, almost boding quality. A crash of lightening in the distance makes everyone jump in startled fright.
"You know what we should play?" Arabella looks between us, wide eyed with delirious inspiration.
"What?" Jackson inquires, suddenly interested.
"Hide and seek." She bites her lip in contained excitement. Tanner gives her side a little squeeze. A panic sweat breaks on my brow, but I refuse to acknowledge it.
So, we play hide-and-seek in a completely unknown territory with a psycho bank robber on the loose, as well with scary, ominious rain pummeling down to the ground? I don't think so. But I doubt I have say, considering all of the enthralled expressions on my company's faces.
"Me and Zoe will count first. You know, since you guys are the guests. First person to be found is the next seeker. You get 60 seconds." Chris pins his eyes shut, cupping his palms over Zoe's. "Go!"
The next thing I know, I'm sprinting to catch up with the hoard of scrambling people. Up stairs, down corridors, down some more stairs, up a lot of stairs, and I'm completely, terribly lost. I'm in a somewhat narrow hallway with picture frames hanging lopsided on every other peg. They don't look like anyone I've seen before. Well, why would they? They should be Chris' family. If they weren't, I don't even want to know what they're doing there.
The rumble of thunder outside a near window sounds throughout the house, echoing against the plated walls of the endless hallways. A hum of a girl's laughter choruses around, tumbling around on the insides of my skull. An ear shattering scream breaks out against the deathly stillness, and my back hairs standy prickly on their ends. I dash as loudly as I dare down the pathway, finding another set of stairs. I climb them with much difficulty and agony. My muscles feel bouncy and gel like after standing in one place for two or so minutes, letting the fear build up inside me. The creak of wooden boards echoes around, and I suddenly have to urge to escape. Anywhere. I need to get out. I need to leave, I need to leave it all behind. All of this stress, containment, and fear. I bolt inside the nearest door, slamming it behind me. I sweat into my hoodie, looking both ways to make sure it's safe. I breathe heavily, suddenly feeling self-conscious. There's a dim lightbulb straped to the crumbling ceiling, lighting the tiny space with a dreary light. I'm surrounded by boxes of porcelain dolls, expensive china dishes, used birthday candles, and other knick-knacks. Two small stools lie unused against the back wall. I duck my head down, as to not hit the low, triangle shaped ceiling with wood pieces jutting out, and find the poorly plastered structure just barely before my muscles give out. I collapse into one of the chairs, and bite my nails.
Mom always said it was a bad habit. I only do it when I'm stressed, or under absolute mental breakdown.
It's a Friday, the first week of school, with no homework. So, to answer your question, no I am not stressed.
Almost directly out of a horror movie, the only remaining source of light flickers to a bust, cloaking everything in a suspencful ebony where time seems to have stopped. Everything stands still, except for the steady rain drops outside that tumble down to the pavement below to their demise. My heart stops beating in my chest as I hear the ruffle and crinkle of plastic across the other side of the room. My mouth grows dry, my head grows cold, and I see the definite silohette of a body begin to stand into an upright position, protected by the shield of blackness around us. That's when I hear another ear splitting scream, my own scream, and then my mind stops working.
"Jenny?!" An apprehensive, familiar voice triggers my sanity, yanking me back from my near black-out.
"W-who..." I barely croak out, before my voice turns to dust, and I can no longer speak. I try clearing my throat, but still, no luck. There's no moisture in my esophagus anymore. I feel hot tears topple down my cheeks, and I'm unable to contain them anymore. I wail out cry after cry, shivering to myself in fear. Please... Let it all be over. I can't take this. I feel like I'm swirling at an out of control pace, slowly approaching insanity. I start hearing voices. They sound young. Girl's laughter, a scream. They're interrupted by my muted sobs.
"N-no! It's okay! It's just me, Kenny!" Kenny mewls, dragging himself over to my side. His arms find my shoulders, and he wraps them securely around me. His heat radiates around my body, and my elevated pants slow down to something close to normal, and my deep, guttural cries quiet down to silent snivels.
Even if this is Kenny, the person I hate the most, I can't hold it in anymore. I need someone. I need to feel safe. I can't....
A fresh set of tears roll down the apples of my cheeks, and I slam my face forcefully into his chest. He staggers backwards a little bit, but overall remains firm. I coil my arms around his torso, squeezing him with all my might.
Why... Why isn't he saying anything? Why isn't he telling me to get the 'fuck' away from him?
"I h-hate this game." I weep into his soggy t-shirt, and let the words spill out of my mouth without a second thought. "I'm s-so afraid, Kenn-ny..."
"It's okay. Calm down. You're safe here." He coos reassuring messages into my ear, calming my muscles. I relax my tight grasp on his shirt, and wilt down into the back of my stool. "No one's going to hurt you."
"I k-know that..." I wipe my nose on one of my wrists, and blink blearily, absorbing any amount of light I can get. "Then why the fuck was I scared?"
His chest vibrates with laughter, and he compresses his arms tighter around my form, entangling me in a supportive, warm embrace.
"Well.... What do we do now?" I push him away slightly, hoping he'll figure out that I can't breathe. His arms fall loose against his sides, and he faces forward. I can't quite see his face, but I'm sure he has on a confused expression, as do I.
"I guess... we just wait for them to find us." He scratches his chin, and tangles his hands together between his thighs.
I fix my posture, feeling extremely better after Kenny's comforting hug. I owe him now! Crap! Oh, and I cursed earlier, too. Man, I'm getting more and more like him, each and every day. This has got to stop.
"Kenny?" I say after a long while of listening to the constant needle like sounds of the rain.
"Y-yeah?" He slurs, clearing his throat.
"Who's Angela?" I peep sheepishly, surprising even myself at my word choice.
"H-how did you find out about her?" He hisses, demise etched into his tone. And like that, compassionate Kenny is gone, and in his replacement, he left angry, annoyed, mean Kenny.
"N-nevermind..."
"How much of the story did you hear?! Who told you?!" He grips my shoulder, hopefully accidentally pressing a bit too hard until I can feel the bruising.
"Y-you're hurting me...."
"Answer me." He roars, forcing his clutch on my shoulder to be even more snug than before.
"I asked you first." I retaliate, unsure of where I got the sudden burst of audacity, but not willing to question it for fear that it'll go away. He releases his hold on my shoulder, and I swear I hear a chuckle escape his lips.
"Damn, you're just like her." He mutters to himself, just barely loud enough for me to hear. "Angela was my first and last girlfriend. Okay. Done. I answered yours, now answer mine."
"Why did you break up?"
"Answer my questions, god dammit!" He rages, shifting his chair so that he's facing me. I can barely make out anything in the room, but all I can see are the whites of his eyes and the striking blue irises tha have caught me in their traps so many times.
Oh, shit.
I don't know how I didn't notice the bodies that had came in here before, considering I have extremely good hearing. I'm not exaggerating when I say that. There must be at least four of them looming near the open doorway. I can't see their faces, but I can distinctively tell that they're inching closer with every mere second that ticks by.
"KENNY! BEHIND YOU!" I scream out, and my mind goes in overdrive.
My body snaps in defense mode, and I fling myself around Kenny's motionless shape, and I sprint as fast as I can up to the stunned bodies. I hurtle my fist at one of their heads, and he or she comes crashing down to the floor. He hits the floor with a thud, and a pained moan echoes throughout the cramped, heavy atmosphere around us. My eyes start to spin in their sockets, and everything seems to be revolving around and around. I turn back, suddenly aware that Kenny's lightened now, looking ghostly, having something bright shone directly on him. Possibly a flashlight? I hurl my body on top of him, protecting him from any possible danger.
Wait.
What the hell did I just think slash do?
My mind fades to black.
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"...had no idea this would happen!"
"Ow! My jaw still hurts! I should give her a piece of my mind for punching me out of no where like that!"
"Dont you dare even think about laying a hand on her."
"All right, chill out man!"
"Oh god! I didn't know she would react like this!"
"It's okay, b-b-baby. You d-d-didn't know."
I wake up to a bile taste and a spinning head. I crack my eyes open, and realize I'm walking backwards. Wait. Am I walking? No. Someone's carrying me. There's a firm set of arms beneath my thighs, and my arms are draped across this person's neck. My head falls limp next to his, and I get a good whiff of men's cologne.
I recognize where I am. I'm in one of the hallways in the Lopez residence. Why am I here? What just happened?
Images of dark, scary figures crowd my mind before I can even think about anything else, and I feel my heart start to clench into knots.
Oh, right. Hide-and-go-seek.
"Kenny- I'm sure she's fine. Let me take a look at her." Arabella's familiar, soft voice rings out, making me feel at home. Why is she here?
"No." The voice originates from beneath me, and his hold on me gets all the more tighter. Kenny is carrying me? Kenny?!
"Why the hell did she punch me?! That's so fucking messed up!" Jackson whines, and I swear I hear a tiny whimper following his statement.
"She thought you guys were fucking intruders. You can't fucking blame her, Jackon! Now shut up." Kenny howls, and the crowd grows silent. A deep blush rises to my cheeks, and a teensy grin pops onto my mouth.
I cannot believe that Kenny is defending me. Kenny! Out of all people! Kendall Brush, the notorious I-Don't-Give-A-Flying-Fuck, and careless bully!
"Why would she think that?" He peeps, now quieter than before.
"Uh, I don't know? Maybe because there's a fucking bank robber on the loose? Gee, let me think on that for a minute." He says, completely over the top, rich with sarcasm, and I accidentally let a giggle slip from my lips. Woops. Kenny's body solidifies in place, considering he's the only one that could have possibly heard my little outburst. He arches his neck around to come face to face with me, his probing eyes searching my face for any sign of life. "Jenny?"
"N-no..." I study his eyes for a second for any sign of emotion, but come up empty handed. He drops me to my feet almost instantly, and I wobble a bit before regaining my balance.
"Jenny!" Arabella cries out, coming over to latch onto one of my arms.
"J-Jenny!" Tanner follows her, surrounding the other side of me. Jackson comes over and ruffles the top of my head, mussing my hair slightly. I laugh through my nose, and look back at Jackson, who's now apparently cowering in fear over something just above my head. I crane my neck and get a good view of Kenny giving Jackson a terminated, deathly scowl. I guess he really did mean it when he said he would kill him if he ever laid a hand on me.
I just hope he won't forget about this tomorrow and act like nothing happened.
Should I be confused? Oh well. I'm just going to soak in the glory and relief of this moment and pray for the best.
...
..
.
Okay, maybe Kenny is changing.
Maybe.
- - -
A/N: HOLY STROMBOLI! Two chapters in one day! It's official. I have no life.
This will be edited shortly, as it is now 2:30 AM, and when I get up tomorrow, I will reread this, considering I will probably have forgotten everything I have written.
Picture of Paris on the side.