EMERSON
She Sells Sanctuary // The Cult
We are going to die. Death. It might be a fiery crash, or maybe just an immediate death on impact situation where we're t-boned by an eighteen-wheeler. But I'm sure it's coming because Chelsea is a shitty driver.
"Slow down." I say the words calmly but feel nothing even close to calm. The turn she just took is so sharp my body just slammed into the door. Damn, we're gonna die. Why in the hell did I agree to let her drive?
"Relax, handsome. We're almost there." Chelsea sounds impatient. Not sure if that's an impatience with me, or just the world in general. It's hard to tell with her.
"And where exactly is there?" Zoe asks from the front passenger seat. I'm suddenly aware of Zoe's motivation for riding shotgun. At least she can anticipate some of Chelsea's more enthusiastic maneuvers and brace herself against the dashboard.
"Haha, wouldn't you like to know?" Chelsea smirks, rolling her shoulders in her faux fur jacket like she's prepping for a knockout move.
"Um, yeah," Zoe says, whipping her head in Chelsea's direction. "That's why I asked, genius. Where are we going?"
I decide to focus on Zoe, rather than my impending demise via blondie aka crazy thinks she is in a formula one race driver.
Zoe is fucking gorgeous.
Every.
Single.
Day.
Zoe is especially breathtaking today with her hair pulled into a crazy knot at the back of her head. Those green tips are peeking out around the base of her neck. They are faded a bit now, but it's a good look. I liked the purple, but I'm really digging the green. She's wearing a vintage band t-shirt, her go-to style, paired with Doc Martins and tight white jeans. But the stop-my-heart addition to her wardrobe is a leather jacket, vintage and worn in just the right places. It's a look straight from the London punk scene that birthed the Sex Pistols. So incredible hot, is my girl.
Zoe's been playing DJ on our drive, so rather than a metaphorical playlist running in my mind as I look at her, which has been happening more frequently for me, there is actual music to accompany my observations. Her vintage look today compliments her playlist. She is currently pounding out The Cult.
I catch Zoe's eye in the rearview mirror and bam, the song captures my thoughts exactly. ...The sparkle in your eyes...Her eyes actually sparkle when she looks at me. Which, no joke, makes my heart speed faster than the insane girl behind the wheel. ...keeps me alive...It might just be Zoe that's keeping me alive this very minute as she grabs the wheel, helping Chelsea complete a right turn into a parking lot at breakneck speed.
"What the fu-" I can't even complete the expletive as Chelsea screeches into a parking spot and slams on the breaks, forcing my face into the headrest in front of me.
"Shit! Chelsea!" Zoe grabs the keys still in the ignition and kills the engine then pockets the keys. "Okay, girl, you are cut off today. No more driving for you."
Chelsea looks at the two of us and rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Be like that." She grabs her bedazzled pouch-purse thing and flings her door open. "Let's go!" Her words are shouted, once again impatient with the world around her and I have a feeling with Zoe and I. You can never think, speak, or move fast enough for Chelsea's taste. That girl has two speeds—dead stop and super revved.
I climb out of the car and then open the door and offer my hand to Zoe. I'm no fool, girls dig those gentlemen manners. Once out of the car we look around and see Chelsea as she clomps ahead of us into a row of industrial warehouse type buildings. She doesn't even look behind her before over her shoulder, "Put some effort into it, people. We have a lot of work to do!"
"What the fuck is she up to?" I mumble.
Zoe just gives me a smile and a shrug. What choice do we have but to follow blondie...where? Into the depths of hell?
We're blindly going along passing through one metal door after another. Should I be concerned that none of these doors are marked with anything other than a few numbers?
Because I can't ask what the hell we are doing, yet again. Chelsea stops in front of big red door and without as much as a backwards glance, she wrenches it open, and glides through.
"This way, slow pokes!" Her words are shouted sideways and bounce off the metal walls as she disappears behind the door.
Zoe and I follow, but as soon as I pull the door open and peek inside, I get it.
"Thrifting?" Zoe says under her breath. "She's been bitching at us this entire way so she can go thrifting?"
Leave it to Chelsea to turn a shopping spree into a life or death situation. Literally. The girl almost killed us getting here. No way I'm letting her drive again.
We catch up to Chels, already elbow deep in a rack of clothes, and Zoe doesn't waste a second laying into her. "Listen, I get that you're all about the bargain shopping, but why did you drag Em and I along? I've honestly got better things to do with my time, and he does too. We need to be working every second we can on our music."
Chelsea continues searching the racks, but I feel her frustration emanating from that tiny little body. Seriously, if it wasn't for her platform shoes, she'd be lost in the clothing rack. She's practically a smurf.
"Honey, this isabout the music." Just as she finishes speaking, she adds a squeal and yanks a hanger off of the rack. Proudly displaying her treasure, Chelsea pauses to display it to us with a flourish of her hand. "Voila!"
I find myself staring at her then shifting my eyes to the shirt she's holding up and back to her again. "What is that?" My eyes lift to scan the building and I realize that we aren't in your average thrift shop. "Where are we?"
"Details. Consider it my specialty." Chelsea shoves the shirt into my chest so that I grab it then turns her attention back to the rack. "Go try it on. I want to make sure it's tight enough without being too douchebag. It's a look."
"Chelsea, seriously. Where are we?" I demand.
She finally looks me in the eye and steps closer. "It's a storage warehouse for a production company. Mostly vintage stuff they don't use anymore, but too valuable to just dump. Besides, everything comes back in style at some point, so hanging on to the good stuff is just good sense."
I look back down at the t-shirt and my jaw drops. The tattered neckline, the bold animal print, distressed from the years it's been around, I recognize it immediately. "Is this... the real thing?"
Chelsea nods. "Yeah, most likely. So go try it on and see if you and Sid are the same size."
"Not the Sid. Sid Vicious?" Zoe asks, clearly shocked.
"No, no. This is from that movie, Sid and Nancy. That biopic about him." Chelsea says as she continues to look through the clothes.
"How did you know to look for this?" I can't tear my eyes away from the shirt. Gary Oldman wore this shirt when he played Sid back in the day. I can't believe I'm holding this.
Chelsea turns her head in my direction and gives me a smirk. "Zoe told me."
"What? When? I told you no such thing, Chels. What are you on today?" Zoe shouts and stomps after Chelsea who has moved to the next rack.
"No, you didn't say it in so many words..." Chelsea says with a dramatic pause. "But honestly, Zoe, those nicknames you gave him sure did point me in the right direction. Google did the rest."
Um, what are they talking about? "Nicknames?" I swing my gaze to Zoe. Her blush floors me, as it always does, but it also screams, 'guilty.'
"Yooooou know," Chelsea draws out the vowels in 'you' and I recognize the look she is giving Zoe. It's one she usually has on her face when she is about to rat her BFF out.
Far be it from me to stop her. This is the most interesting thing I've heard all week.
Chelsea takes a deep breath and then spills out, "Guy Who Plays Every Instrument Known to Man. Guy Who's Hair Would Look Awesome in a Mohawk. Guy Who Plays Bass Better Than Sid Vicious." She turns and gives me a wide smile. "You know, that kind of thing."
Be still my beating heart. I think I just fell harder for Zoe, if that is even possible. Holy shit, those nicknames are sexy.
I watch as Zoe's blush becomes the most amazing shade of crimson. Practically blood red. And man, I am loving it.
Seriously, I'm in love with this girl.
I turn and give Zoe a wink and say, "Well, Girl Who Sings Like a Demon and Looks Like an Angel, I think I understand you just a little better now."
Zoe looks mortified. "Sheesh! Thanks a lot Chelsea. This is going in the payback bank for when you finally fall into a relationship." Zoe looks turns wicked. "I promise you; this whole thing is coming back to haunt you one day. Haunt you with chains and moaning."
Chelsea raises an eyebrow. "Innuendo much?"
I refrain from laughter and my 'that's what she said' comeback.
But Zoe just groans and puts her hands over her face.
I reach out and grab Zoe's hand. "Come on 'Girl Who Rules The World.' Let's Nancy you up to match my Sid."
"Never doubt me!" Chelsea calls from behind as we walk away.
I look around at all the racks full of color and cool clothes. This place is the shit and I'm about to get my punk on.
ZOE
Sweater Weather // The Neighbourhood
Dragon Lady is staring like a reptile with the beady eyes and the forked tongue. I feel those eyes on me as I sit at the kitchen table with homework. It hasbeen a long time since I've done homework outside of the four walls of my sanctuary, aka my room. I get that I've been a hermit, but does that justify her staring at me like that? It's pretty freaking rude. And making me regret coming out of my room.
And, okay, it has been more than a long time since I've treated this house like I am a part of it. Maybe my hermit status started ever since Dragon Lady came to stay. But that's not on me, that's on her and the way she acts around me. Why can't she just leave me alone. Why does she have to focus on me every time I wander even a few feet in her vicinity.
I should go back into my room, but for some reason, being in my room alone today feels...uncomfortable. That's the only word I can assign to this feeling. I honestly don't know what I'm feeling. It's like something is crawling under my skin. Or too much energy is buzzing over it.
It's the first day in more than a week that I haven't hung out with Emerson and Chelsea. There's not even band practice today, per DF's declaration that he's got "family stuff" to deal with. Which is a bunch of crap because now that Chelsea spilled his plans, we all know he's traveling up the coast for this gallery premiere.
What should be happening today is a Zombie practice. We could totally use DF's garage and have our own practice. I know where Dylan keeps the key. But when I suggested we practice, Emerson said he had stuff to do today, whatever that means. I could tell he didn't want to talk about it, so I didn't ask. But now I wish I had because I can't stop wondering what is going on with him. Something feels off, but I feel like a jerk saying anything about it, because he's given me no reason to doubt him.
I blame Asshat for this whole situation. Dylan did such a freaking number on my heart that it's no wonder a little thing like mysterious errands, or whatever Em has going on, is making my imagination go crazy. Emerson should not have to suffer because I used to date a cheater and a liar.
Rather than continue with wallowing and crazy, I decide to send Em a text. Maybe hearing from him will lighten my mood.
Me: Hey Guy Who Looks Vicious, DL is giving me the beady eyes as I text this. The woman has reptile DNA in her. Dylan sucks ass cancelling band practice. No surprise since he was always an ass! What r u you up to? I'm bored & Chelsea is MIA ;)
I send the text and put my phone face down because Dragon Lady's head always whips around anytime, she hears a text ping on my phone. I know she does her best with those sideways glances to scope out what I have going on with my friends. DL is forever curious about my life. I really wish she would back off and get one of her own. I lower my head and turn my attention to the dreaded homework pile.
Dragon lady leaves the room and then returns a few minutes later. "Trouble in paradise?" she says as she walks over and puts down a snack plate of carrots and ranch next to me. "You seem to be down," she says as she slides into the chair beside me.
Great. Now she wants to have a pow-wow. Why did I make the mistake of coming out of my room? She has had this pleased expression on her face every time she looks at me since she realized I was going on a date with Emerson. Not that she cares at all about Emerson, she is just pleased that he comes from money. A gold-digging mentality that makes me want to gag and doesn't earn any points with me.
"Nah. Just a day off." I concentrate on algorithms. Maybe if I start to talk about my math problems out loud it will repel her.
"Hmmm." Her chin is resting on her hand as she looks me over. "So, have you met Emerson's parents?"
Inquiring minds want to know. The million-dollar question. Blah blah blah. "Nope," I say not bothering to look up. And I don't care to elaborate.
Dragon Lady sits up straight. Her hand drops to the table with a thud. "Well, why in the world not?" She suddenly sounds indignant. "You two have been going out for several weeks now, and you spend almost of your non-school hours with the boy. An introduction should have happened by now, don't you think?"
I shrug. "It just hasn't come up." But her words make my heart pound. Damn her for adding to my head-trip! I shouldn't be worried about my relationship with Emerson. It's not like he's hiding me. I mean, I've been to his house. I've been in his room. But every time I've been over there it's always been when his parents are out. Thanks Dragon lady for stressing me out more and making my stomach hurt.
"Perhaps his family doesn't approve of him dating outside of his..." DL stops talking but her hands continue and roll in circles as though I should be able to read her mind.
"Zip code?" I supply.
Now it's her turn to shrug and look uncomfortable.
The bile rises in my throat. No way Emerson's family could be that shallow. But then I think of all the times that Em has complained what an ass his dad is. Em has mentioned more than once that his family would never take his passion for music seriously. Which breaks my heart. Emerson loves music and he is so talented. How is it possible his parents couldn't see that? See how happy music makes him. But what if they don't care what makes him happy. What if they just care about their snooty rich kid agenda for him. And what if they not only care about what he does and how that looks to their peers, what if they care who he dates. And what that date's zip code is. What if this parental disapproval includes me? What if music and Zoe equal the same thing? 'Not something we want happening in Emerson's world.'
Now I really feel sick. And, of course, Brat Supremo chooses that second to waltz into the kitchen, fingers already in his mouth. The kid makes me want to barf every time I look at him. I'm watching him suck his fingers. Yeah, I really shouldn't be looking at him.
"Zoe, don't be afraid to stand your ground with this one," DL says.
I just look at her not sure what to say.
Her face has taken on a very serious expression. "Don't let him walk all over you, like the other one did." She shakes her head in disgust. "You shouldn't put yourself through that kind of heartache again."
Perfect. She just fed every hesitation I had jumping into this thing with Emerson. But what we have isn't exactly official because neither one of us has labeled it, yet.
"Got any chips, mom?" Brato speaks with his mouth full of carrot, still unchewed, as he sucks the ranch dressing off. Then he (barf) sticks the carrot (omg) back into the ranch (ugh) and licks the ranch right off.
Oh my god I'm gonna be sick.
DL looks over in my direction. "Are you okay? You look positively green!"
It's no wonder I look green, Brato is literally licking ranch off of his fingers now, which is the tipping point. I might just toss my cookies on the table if he keeps this up.
But before I spew, my phone dings with a text. I reach for it and check the notification.
Em: Hey Girl Who Stole My Heart. DF is a douche. But thank god cause now I get to call you mine.
And just like that, my stomach settles. Even Brato's disgusting display can't mess with me in this moment.
"I don't think you need to worry about me." I start gathering my homework to head back to my sanctuary. I incline my head towards Brato. "He's got way more problems than I do."
DL's mouth drops open and she gives me a blank stare.
I throw the beats back in place, music already playing. That's pretty much the norm. I hardly ever stop the music. Sweater Weather is pumping into my ears and the first line I hear is ...the silence guides our minds...and that's the crap that I've let guide me. Not today, my friends. Not today.
I salute DL and ignore Brato as I turn and walk to my own place in the universe. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you exit a room.
How about that Chelsea? If she doesn't kill them with the car, she might just kill them with her details! But don't worry, this girl has a solid plan that's about to come together. And speaking of coming together, that Emerson has some smooth moves! Hopefully, Zoe's little freak out won't be repeated...
Two tunes this time! Emerson needed some vintage with his vintage. Don't forget to check out the aesthetic for his Sid Vicious inspiration up top. Zoe needed the feels, and Sweater Weather's got them!