Get Your Guns | Vol. 1 | Jamie Bower Fanfiction

9 | Random gravity checks

Jamie

"You mind if I join you?" I asked. To be honest I didn't know why I asked, but there we go. The girl - Jessica or something - I had been talking to before had run off just after I told her about my Bob Dylan tattoo and its placement - that placement being my delicate buttocks. Maybe she didn't get tattoos? None the less she had pulled off the whole 'fake emergency call routine'. I was getting tired of being turned down, so I just as well not set myself up for failure again tonight. Plus I could just as well get to know my surprise attacker, since the chick just kept bloody showing up. She was staring me up and down, like I was trying to play a trick on her or something.

"Why? Don't you rather wanna join the..." she stopped and listed to the music outside the almost closed door. "YMCA dance session?"

"Not at the moment no," and I didn't really, everyone had seen the girl I had talked to take off and I weren't ready to show my face yet. Roland would probably win this darn bet.

"Hmm, it's you party, so I guess it wouldn't really matter if I said no," she sighed at slumped in the sofa comfortably. I guess that's a yes...? What was it with girls telling me to basically get lost this evening? I closed the door, tuning down the music outside to a low thumbing, and sat down defiantly. We sat in silence for a while just staring at the walls.

"Sooo you care for a beer?" I asked, breaking the almost eerie silence.

"Yeah," she sighed, as I crawled down on to the floor to get the 6pack from under my bed. I got it and crawled up on the sofa, passing a beer to Skye. She clicked it open with a 'tshh' and took one big gulp. I mimicked her movements. Then asked her the only thing I could think of.

"So you and 'Wasted' together?"

"Are you kidding, Jamie?" she asked, almost snorting. She had just taken another gulp of the beer and she found it rather hard getting it down. She looked like a dying jellyfish, but eventually she did.

"No, what's wrong with him?" I asked, there must be a reason for such a reaction. Bros got to stand up for bros sometimes; otherwise we will be sure of only one thing, our own demise.

"Nothing! He's gay!" she said it as was the most obvious thing in the world, "weren't the 'you're really pretty' enough?" she mimicked his slurred speech from moments before "he is totally into you."

"Ow, sorry buddy, playing for the other team," I said raising my can to the snoring sack of limbs on my bed. He snorted, turned and slept on. She giggled at me and - well - Brad too, he was still mumbling 'soft' sometimes when he exhaled.

"He is gonna stay like that for a while, isn't he?" she asked sighing.

"Yeah, that's important? Is he your ride here?"

"Jup, he kind of is..." she was twirling her hair absentmindedly between her fingers then she started braiding a little piece of it. Weird.

"So, what? Can't just call a cap?" I suggested.

"Can't afford it, so I'm stuck here till morning where I can go home. Plus it'll be mean to leave him here all by himself, drunk out of his mind, and without a ride home," she took another gulp of her drink and then shook it. Empty. She sat in down on the floor and I passed her another one. Then I gulped down my own remaining beer scraps and took a new one. You got to keep up, especially with girl!

"That sucks..." and we sat in a bit in silence once more, till I asked, "What do you do anyways? Hit and runs?"

"Hahahaha! Very funny!" she said so deeply sarcastic it was almost offensive, "no, I'm an unemployed actress, unlike you."