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Author’s note: I am so sorry this is coming in rather late, but I’m on holiday right now and it’s really, really hard to spend a whole day sitting on the computer. But today was my lucky day so, here it is, chapter six. Things are speeding up a bit, I hope I’m not losing track and they you all are still with me…
Thanx.
.:FiVe:.
.:Meltdown:.
"Get milk".
"No, you get it".
"No, you get it, Joan. I need to get batteries".
"Fine".
Noor stared at her darkly for a few seconds, before turning on her heel toward aisle 5. Joan sighed, not really sure why she was so cranky today, and heaved their loaded shopping cart toward the refrigerated dairy section.
It was a cool Friday afternoon, and Joan had allowed herself to be dragged by Noor from class straight to the nearest grocery store, insisting that their stocks were hitting dangerously low, and that as equal apartment tenants, Joan had to accompany her on the spree. Joan hadn't been thrilled, to say the least.
She was still kicking herself over the head for rashly inviting a Hulbrook (okay, he wasn't really a Hulbrookian, but he was related to one, which was as bad), over to the Deck, where Jesse and the others were bound to find out what she'd done.
It was hard enough trying not to break in front of Noor, who had shifty eyes to spot specialties in Joan's freakishness. It was just a matter of time before her tall and untamed roommate discovered the latest development with the Nezdavitch clan, and Joan was kind of worried about what would ensue when the time did come.
For one thing, Noor had a heart --deep, deep inside-- and had yet to fail Joan in any time of need, although it usually came with an "I told you so" motif. But Noor was also committed to Jesse's crew. Each of them was.
"So what the hell am I doing?" Joan muttered out loud angrily as she grabbed two large-sized containers of milk off a freezing shelf. Ignoring the announcements on half-priced tinned tomatoes and mushrooms from the overhead intercoms, Joan shoved the shopping cart back to where Noor had left her, where, sure enough, her roommate was there already: arms folded defiantly, a pack of batteries in one hand, a boot tapping impatiently on the laminated floor.
"Gimme a break", Joan said as she neared, but she forced herself to remain calm. Noor's near presence was only working on her nerves steadily. If she didn't hold her ground, she was going to blow, and everything about her plans was going to come spewing out...
Noor raised a sharply-accented eyebrow, but said nothing. Joan followed duly behind her, busying herself with pushing the shopping cart.
"Joan...", Noor called in mid-reach for tampons.
"Hmm?" Joan looked up from examining her bitten nails, wondering if she should pick up a new black varnish.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Noor asked, glancing at her as she came forward to dump some packs into the cart.
"What do you mean?" Joan tensed, sure Noor had caught her now.
"I mean", Noor continued as they shifted down the aisle. "You've been mentally preoccupied since you came back from work yesterday. I trust everything's alright?"
Joan stared back for a second before nodding uncomfortably. "Yeah, sure", she replied, her mouth tasting wonderfully dry. "Why wouldn’t things be alright?"
Noor stopped walking, then faced her, studying her. Joan stared straight back, knowing if she squirmed a limb the way she wanted to, it was all over. Noor might as well be working for the CIA, she was just that annoyingly perceptive.
"I don't believe you", Noor said finally, before turning away and walking on. "But it's fine. If you don't feel like talking, you don't have to..."
Joan breathed a sigh of relief, glad she was given that prerogative, at least. She knew she wasn't completely out of deep water yet, because Noor would never give up that easily. But at least she was safe for now.
If only she could keep it up until tomorrow night's date, when not only Noor, but Jesse and everyone else would be right where she and Lucien would be.
In another quarter of an hour, they were unloading their packages into the trunk of Noor’s sports car, and Joan barely remembered a time before when so little had been said between Noor and her. The ride back to their campus apartment was almost unbearable, and Joan wasn’t used to not gabbing on about nothing at all. Usually Noor and she would fight forever on the radio tunes, or Noor would constantly be warning her of any speed bump or stray cat on the road in the unlikely case of Joan being behind the wheel.
But now…
Complete pin-drop silence.
Okay, not pin-drop silence. Joan didn’t bother changing Noor’s Jazz station on the radio, and she could almost see the tiny vein on Noor’s throat throbbing with impatience as she probably expected Joan to blow at any second now…
Joan sighed as she looked out the window. The top of the car was down, so the wind whipping in their direction helped shake her thoughts around. She was probably making too much of the whole situation.
Just because she was going to be the first out of their whole set to actually really be associated with one of them,didn’t mean that Jesse and Calsy and Noor and the others were going to completely skin her alive if they found out, right?
At the very least, they’d leave some bones. Maybe a nail or two.
As Noor pulled into the campus parking lot behind their apartment, neither said much as they got round to the trunk to unload their stuff. Joan hurried her half as she really didn’t want Noor to break the ice and start firing away with the questions again.
“Uh…just leave them all on the kitchen table, k?” Noor said suddenly, as Joan was about to go up again on the last leg. Joan nodded, and did exactly that, before getting out a Diet Coke from one of the bags, then going straight into her room to get ready for her job in an hour.
She knew she needn’t have felt guilty about not sticking around to help Noor, for Noor was at her best when she alone dealt with the cleaning or washing or cooking or any other activities neat-freaks indulged themselves with.
But first things first…
Joan went over to the stereo on her dresser, not caring which of her thousands of CDs was in there as she pressed the play button. She went over to plop sitting upright on her bed, cracking the soda can lid open as the first notes of a Norah Jones song came filtering through the air.
She wasn’t sure, but she really felt like she was right about to jump off the Cliff of Sanity.
Joan was beginning to believe that the mechanical ‘for-customers’ smile on her face was steadily becoming permanent. She could practically feel her jaw ache, and her lips were beginning to feel extremely chapped, not to mention how dry her mouth was getting after buttering up how many customers to get this book or that magazine or whatever.
Suddenly the little bell atop the store door tinkled open, and Joan looked past the middle-aged woman she was serving and saw Nel, Flo and Calsy enter the store. She couldn’t help but be slightly relieved. At least it wasn’t Noor.
“Hellooo, Jo darling!” sang Calsy as they came in.
“Hey Jo”, Nel called, a big grin on his face, his arm around Flo’s waist as they came closer to her.
Joan waved an exaggerated arm to let them in, mouthing that she’d be with them in a second. In a few minutes, the lady customer had left the store, and they were all in the back storeroom, smoking up a storm. Or at least, Joan and Flo and Calsy were. Nelson didn’t really smoke, unless Jesse was in one of his more drunken states and was insisting that he have a brotherly puff.
“So guess what, guys?” Calsy was saying, a filtered one held between two perfectly clean fingers. “I talked to Mabel, and she heard that Jonesy got hold of some new dry stuff…”, she waggled her eyebrows around mischievously, “Think we should give it a go?”
Joan nearly choked on her own cigarette. “Wha-at?” she coughed out, waving her own pencil-dusted hand around in front of her face to wave the smoke away, “What new dry stuff? What type?”
Calsy shrugged, before turning to Nel. “Isn’t it some new kind of weed?”
Nel looked up just as Flo was offering him a puff. “Uh…yeah, I think so”, he replied as he accepted his girlfriend’s cigarette and raised it to his lips. “A little more advanced than your average weed, though.”
“Ah”, Joan nodded in understanding, and then rested her head against the wall. She was sitting on an overturned bucket, while Calsy was standing next to her. Nel was sitting on a stool table, with Flo half-standing, half-sitting on his lap.
Joan bet that if Noor was supposed to just enter the store room door and see them all like this, she’d be utterly furious, since they were obviously violating some health code of the peace or something of the sort.
“I think Jonesy got it from North Tamroth, maybe even the West…” Calsy continued, running her other hand through her perfectly cropped blonde hair. “But whatever. So what do you guys say? Should I lay out the welcome matt for him tomorrow night at the Deck?”
Joan almost laughed out loud. She would have loved to see the look on Drake Nezdavitch’s face if he saw how they really partied at the Deck.
Then with a sudden pang, she remembered it wasn’t even Drake she was bringing to the Deck tomorrow night, but his brother instead.
Shuddering at her mistake, Joan shook her head to clear it, wondering if all the fumes were finally causing some kind of tumor in her head. Because something was definitely blocking her train of thought lately.
“Well, you could do that, Calsy”, Flo said, swinging her prosthetic leg slightly from her position, (she’d lost a leg after being slightly electrocuted when she was young, and thus had had a fake leg for almost her whole life). “But I think you should run it by Jesse first. You know how he gets with people coming to the Deck if he’s never met them…”
Joan suddenly burst out in a coughing fit.
“Whoa, Joany”, Calsy said, leaning down to pound her on the back. “Take it easy on the cancerigens, why don’t you?”
But not even Calsy’s craziness could make a cut against what Flo had just said. What she’d just said, about Jesse’s animosity with foreign guests at the Deck, was completely true. It hit straight home, and the magnitude of what was going to happen tomorrow night smacked Joan right in the face.
It was like an omen. It was a bad sign. She had to cancel Lucien. What had she been thinking anyway, inviting a guy like him over to their place, especially when she was with Jesse?
No, she had to unleash the truth first. She’d tell them all, starting with Calsy and Nel and Flo, since they were already here and present. And then she’d break it down to Jesse, but quickly reassure him that her ‘date’ had been cancelled, and no Hulbrookian would enter their domain.
“Yeah, I’m fine thanks”, she finally said, steering her torso away from Calsy’s poundings, which, really, were not helping at all. Joan swallowed uncomfortably, hoping she was doing the right thing. “Uh…guys, listen, there’s something I have to…”
“Oh, Joan”, Flo suddenly interrupted, pointing out the small, one-way window that had been installed near the door. “I think you have a customer waiting…”
Joan breathed a sigh of relief, then got up to go…and froze.
Drake Nezdavitch was standing by her sales counter. He was standing right there in surprisingly normal attire: a black shirt and jeans. He could’ve passed as a regular East Tamrothian. And if he turned his head straight toward them now, he would’ve seen her instantly, had it not been for the closed door and, of course, the one-way mirror.
Joan heard a low appreciative whistle behind her.
“Whoo-hoo”, Calsy muttered, “That is some serious hot shit right there.”
“Wow, yeah, you’re right”, chimed in another voice.
Joan swiveled around in disbelief, staring at Florence.
“What?!” Flo cried defensively as Joan, Calsy and her boyfriend stared at her. “Can’t a girl look?”
"Girl”, Calsy snorted, “Sure you can look, but you haven’t been looking ever since you laid eyes on Nelly-boy here…”
Flo blushed and snuggled against Nelson, who was looking mighty confused. Joan was beginning to be confused too. Like, what should she be more confused about, the idea that Florence could look at another guy in a non-platonic way, or the fact that Drake Nezdavitch was about three feet away.
“Joan, honey”, she heard Calsy call in a low, ardent tone. “Sweetie, if you ain’t gonna help that poor gentleman…Can I help myself to him?”
“Calsy!” Flo cried, still pink with embarrassment, but now looking more amused. “Really, you don’t even know who he is!”
No…I do, Joan thought grimly, before stepping out of the storeroom, half because she had to, and half because her comrades were driving her out.
As soon as she shut the store room door behind her, and blocked the ruckus inside, Drake turned his head toward her, looking a little surprised about where she’d come from.
“What the hell do you want?” Joan demanded, crossing her arms protectively as she stepped slowly forward.
"Not much for greetings, are we?” Drake retorted, his tone equally cool.
"No, we are not”, Joan answered, trying to look ultra-cool. “What are you doing here? Oh, no, hold on” She pretended to look around. “Sorry, Lucien isn’t around, but be sure to warn him about…oh, what was it?”, she held up a finger to her chin in mock-thought, “Oh yes, be sure to warn him about any ‘intentions’ I may have for him, so he may not be entrapped by hidden ulterior motives I could have up my sleeve”.
All she got in return was a rude stare. As in, Drake mutely stared at her, his mouth set grimly and his dark eyes not at all shifty, but plain looking at her like she’d completely lost it.
Needless to say, this was not the look she’d been going for.
“What do you want, Drake?”
He studied her for a bit, and she refused to be stared down any longer. It was hard. His gaze was just that annoyingly intense.
“Can we talk outside?” he asked suddenly, surprising Joan a little. “I mean, it’s a little stuffy in here…”
Joan looked at him suspiciously for a second, before common sense won out. If she was willing to hear him out, she’d have to do it away from her crew-mates, three of whom were just a door away.
But still she hesitated.
“Look”, Drake added, bending his head a little forward to speak in a lower voice. “If it means anything…” he looked a little unsettled, a little uncomfortable. “…I came to apologize about the other day”.
Joan slanted her head thoughtfully, liking this turn of events. “Oh?” she replied, wondering how long she could push it. “Is that so?”
He was looking like he was wearing a particularly tight tie. “Yes…okay? Now may we please step outside so I can have a word with you?”
Joan hesitated a little more, but eventually nodded her head reluctantly. “Five minutes”, she snapped, stepping out of her little sales counter in the process.
“Allow me”, Drake said, and stepped forward to hold the door open for her.
Joan rolled her eyes at him, ignoring the little jump her stomach had made. This was no time to be flattered by some guy.
Although he is one heck of a guy, she thought, stepping out the door and onto the slightly windy street pavement. The first thing she saw was the huge black Rolls-Royce parked in front of the store. It completely put the little Toyotas and Buicks next to it to shame. Not to mention, it looked ridiculously out of place in the common East Tamroth street.
Joan swallowed some envy, and decided not to mention the huge black Rolls-Royce in the middle of the street.
“Yes?” she demanded, her arms still folded as she turned to face him right outside the door.
“What, you mean here?” Drake looked outraged. Cars were rolling along by, their wheels crunching autumn leaves that had strayed onto the road. He shook his head, before taking her elbow and leading her down the walk. “Now come on, let’s just go down this pavement, and talk”.
She shook herself away from his touch, but assented. They were a little ways away from the store, when he started.
“Firstly”, he said, facing her for a second, “I am sorry for what I said the other day, as I realize now it deeply offended you.”
Joan nodded reluctantly, tucking a strand of hair away from her face. “Okay, fine. I get that. But what else? I mean, surely, you didn’t come all the way here just to apologize”.
“And what if I had?” Drake asked, looking at her with a semi-puzzled look on his face. “Is it that hard to believe that I might have come all the way here just to apologize to you?”
“Uh…”, Joan started, her throat suddenly dry. She wasn’t really sure where the conversation was going, but wherever it was, she didn’t like the fact that she wasn’t in control of it. “Oh, look. Icies!”
And with that, she barreled toward the multi-colored ice-cream stand on the side of the road, cars and trucks whizzing past it on the streets.
“Icies?” she heard him echo softly behind her, his tone puzzled.
She bought him and herself a cup, hoping the conversation would soon have a point.
“So what did you want to talk about, Drake?” She decided that by using his name, she would at least enforce some establishment in their relations, non-existent as they were.
"Come here first”, he said, and he led her toward a wooden double-deck seat under a small building awning, facing the shop-lined streets and the whiz of cars going by.
“So like I said, I am sorry about the other day”, he said, waving his hand with the ice-cream cup to make a point. “Really, I am. But I just wanted you to understand why I…I…”
“Accuse me?” Joan offered, swirling the plastic spoon in her cup. “Patronize me? Utilize…”
“Okay, you’ve made your point”, he said quickly, glowering darkly at the roads ahead. “I just wanted to know if…”
"If…” she prodded, daring to look at his profile.
“I just wanted to know if you were…I mean, you and my brother….” He started again, looking more and more heated, “I mean, if Lucien had…”
"Oh my god”, Joan cried, “Spit it out already! What? You just wanted to know if your brother and I…what?”
He turned to look at her straight in the eye, and Joan wish she had just shut up. “If you were…with him”.
Joan swallowed.
“Oh”, she said softly, before turning toward the road again. She just couldn’t take those dark eyes of his. They made her want to go to confession or something. “Um, no. No way”.
“Oh, really?” she heard him reply, his tone almost relative to relief. “Alright, then. I just assumed…”
“Don’t”. She said, deciding to give him a break.
“Don’t?”
“Yeah, don’t.” She repeated, not believing she was about to give away one of Jesse’s cardinal rules. “I mean…Assuming things is hazardous to your health, trust me”.
“Really”, Drake said, his tone all of a sudden one of amusement and interest. She turned to see if he was pulling her leg, if he was just egging a crazy person on.
But all she saw on his rather handsome face was genuine amusement at what she’d said, which, really, wasn’t actually a joke but whatever.
“Yeah”, she said, “It is. I mean, it’s the same anywhere. If you just stay intent on assuming things all the time, any surprises will just slap you hard in the face, and who wants that? Or don’t underestimate your enemy…something like that”.
Drake looked thoughtful after that. “I think I know what you mean. It’s like existentialist ethics, isn’t it?”
Joan stared.
“What?” she said in a dead tone.
He laughed.
Joan stared as he laughed, gritting her teeth in an attempt to keep herself from just blowing this guy off. What the hell were exist…exist...
What the hell was he talking about?!
Not to mention, wasn’t he the more serious twin? The more so-down-to-earth-practically-underground twin? He certainly wasn’t this lively in his own house when last she’d been there.
Drake caught one look at Joan’s unsmiling face, and stopped laughing almost immediately, his eyes shifting to the road in order to do so.
“Sorry”, he coughed.
“Whatever”, Joan answered, scooping up the last of her ice-cream letting it stay in her mouth.
“Existentialist ethics…”, she heard him say, and this time he managed to contain his laughter. “Do you want to hear about them?”
Joan glared at him for a second, before nodding reluctantly. She did want to know, after all.
“It’s a theory of modern concept that was derived from the French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre in the eighteenth…”
“Whoa, whoa”, Joan interrupted, raising her voice loud. “No way. No History lesson in the process, please. Just stick to the theory”.
Drake looked like another laugh was coming on, but he just smiled and nodded his head. “Alright, then. Theory, it is.” He coughed once, before continuing, “Well, it’s sort of like mankind was thrust into existence with or without their consent, no matter. But from the point that they are, they…”
“Are? You mean, when they start living?”
“Yes, exactly so. From the point that he starts living, man is thrust into making all decisions from then on out, irrespective of who he is or what position he’s born into.”
Joan stared. “I still don’t get it”.
“I’m getting to it. It’s just that every man will then have a will, consisting of the choices he makes. Then he has expectations which his choices will seek to fulfill.”
“And?”
“And so, anything outside of his expectations”, Drake said, looking at her very thoughtfully, “will be unexpected, perhaps even unwelcome.”
Joan remained silent. She knew he had a point…somewhere…but she was having trouble getting to it. What did all this have to do with what she’d said about Jesse’s rules?
“What I’m saying”, he said, noticing her cautious look, “Is exactly what you were saying, that if man just assumes that everything will go his way, then…um…’any surprises will just slap him in the face’”.
Joan was impressed. She finally got it. Sort of.
“Oh, I see”, she said, facing the road but not really seeing it. “Yeah, I get it. Hey”, she said, turning back to him, “That’s kind of cool”.
“Well, I think so”, Drake replied, smiling briefly before his eyes focused on something behind her.
“What?” Joan asked, turning around to see. Her heart gave a slight jump as she saw Calsy and Nel and Flo right outside the store door, watching her with looks of surprise on their faces.
"Oh shit”, she muttered, turning back to face Drake quickly. “Listen, um, Drake. Thanks for apologizing and that exist…existen…”
“Existentialism?” Drake offered, looking slightly startled as she jumped off the bench and gathering her wallet off the bench.
"Uh huh, yeah that. That was way cool, but um, I gotta go now…”
And with that, she turned and jogged down the road and back toward the store, waving back as Drake shouted goodbye. Her heart was racing, not just from the burst of activity she was going through now. If Calsy and they had even a sliver of a clue of whom she’d been talking to…
How long had she been gone anyway?!
“Well, well, well”, Calsy said, a feline smile on her face. “What do we have here?”
“Nothing”, Joan said, panting as she halted next to them. She wasn’t really as exhausted as she appeared, she was way fitter than that. Maybe she was just trying to cover herself, or maybe it was just guilt.
That shit was always pretty weighty.
“Joan, do you know that man?” Flo asked, curiosity etched clearly on her pretty face.
“Um”, Joan replied smartly, but figuring that honesty was the best policy at this instance, “Uh, yeah, just a bit. His brother ordered some books a while back, and he…came to um, ask about them”.
Not exactly a clear-cut cover up, but it would have to do for now. Apparently though, it did, for Flo and Nel just shrugged, and Calsy eventually stopped giving her that “I-know-all” look she had worked so hard to perfect whilst growing up.
“C’mon, Jo”, Nel said, walking back to the store, “Finish up your shift and we can cruise around.”
Joan nodded wordlessly as they all walked back to the book store. Joan only had a half-hour left of work to do, but it felt like ages that she was going to have go through with Calsy around. That girl and her uncanny sixth sense for trouble…
Joan stormed through Noor’s bedroom door with a fury not unlike that of a tempest, dressed in a too-tight mauve tank top, a short charcoal leather miniskirt, but coupled still with her steel-toed combat boots and trusty wool overcoat which dropped down way past the hem of the skirt.
It was finally Saturday night, and Joan may have looked uncharacteristically hot. Perhaps it was because tops and skirts weren’t her casual wear. However, inside, she felt like she was about to explode right out of both attire.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Joan?” Noor yelled, swiveling around from her bureau chair to face her, a mascara wand in her hand. “Ever heard of a doorknob?”
Joan stood still at the door, stunned. That was almost exactly what Drake had said…back when he’d been an insufferable git and…
Joan shook her head to clear it. “Sorry”, she apologized, stepping in the room and walking towards Noor’s make-up bureau. “Have you seen my kohl liner? I can’t seem to find it anywhere”.
“You loaned it to Katie yesterday, remember?” Noor replied, looking at Joan’s reflection as she turned back to the mirror. “And anyway, kohl makes you look like a gothic. Why on earth are you always going on about it?”
Joan just glared, but did, in fact, remember that she her little sister had come over yesterday, begging to borrow some stuff for a party she just had to be at, etc. etc.
“Fine, fine”, she said, turning on her heel to go back to her room. “No kohl. I guess I’ll have to settle with the standard blah…”
“Wait a sec, why the sudden concern for appearances?” Noor called back, stopping her in mid-step. “I mean, it’s just another night at the Deck, right?”
Joan had stopped, but hadn’t turned around. Now, she felt she wouldn’t at all.
“Joan?”
“What?”
“It is just another night at the Deck. Right?”
Not wanting to, but knowing it was the only way to save herself, Joan braced herself as she turned slowly back around to face her roommate. “Yeah”, she said finally, forcing a smile on her face, “Just another night…like any other night…”
Shut up already, her brain screamed, and she closed her mouth determinedly.
Noor examined her face a few seconds, before turning right back around to the mirror and commencing with her eyes.
Suddenly it hit Joan that this was never going to stop. She was never really good at hiding anything from Noor. Frankly, she’d never had a reason to. But now…the more time she spent anywhere near Noor, she was going to be constantly fidgety, and Noor was only going to notice all the more.
“Uh, Noor”, she croaked, “Listen. I’ll meet you there, k? I…I’m riding with Cal today cuz we…we have to get there earlier. Jesse said so.”
That was such a bald-faced lie, Joan was surprised Noor didn’t swing immediately around, screaming, “A-ha! You lying traitor!”
“Whatever” Noor answered back, not looking at her.
Joan nodded her head slowly, not to anyone in particular. Then without another word, for fear of betraying herself, she turned and left the room, closing the door rather harshly in the process.
She went straight to the phone in the small comfy living room Noor had decorated almost lovingly in the beginning.
“Hello, Max’s services?” she said into the receiver after a while. “Yeah, I need a cab…As soon as possible, from now…No, no address needed, just tell the driver to meet me at the Grinwood University Park…”
So where the hell was that son of a …
“Sorry to keep you waiting”.
Joan whipped around to face him. He’d come from nowhere, practically. But there he was, striding towards her calmly through the thin thicket of palm trees. He was dressed casually, thank God, in a cool, navy blue and white sweater, and loose jeans. He could pass, she decided. In fact, the only giveaway would have to be the expensive looking wristwatch he wore, and, of course, the air of good breeding he had around him.
Still, she waited for him to come closer.
"You’re ten minutes late, Lucien”, she said coldly as he stopped two feet short from where she stood.
“I’m sorry”, Lucien replied, and Joan found it rather hard to stay mad. He really was handsome, quite like his brother. And although Lucien was blonde, Joan still thought he had a special charm to him, whether it was the streak of mischief which sparkled in his brown eyes, or the slight sense of danger the man seemed to exude more than Drake did.
“Well, m’lady”, he suddenly said, his eyes amused as she realized she’d been staring. “Shall we?” And he offered his arm to her.
Feeling slightly ridiculous to be acting in such a manner when she was clearly dressed to kill, she consented in taking his arm, and together they sought out the nearest boardwalk up the slightly sloping cliff, and toward the Deck.
Within a few minutes, they’d stepped into the Deck, Joan making sure she stayed in front of Lucien, so as to veer him away from too-prying eyes and suspicious roommates.
Thankfully, it was as dark in the Deck as it had ever been, and Joan managed to lead Lucien right into the center Deck, some feet away from Willis and his decks, and far away from Jesse’s corner hangout.
As Joan gave herself into the music, she started to feel better about everything. Really. So what if she was dancing with a sort-of Hulbrook, practically hanging off of him because he smelt sooo good. He wasn’t really a Hulbrook, anyway. His sister was.
But as often happened in the dark realms of the Deck, Joan soon left most thoughts behind, all worries behind, and swayed next to Lucien, who seemed to have no problem fitting in. Clearly, he still had no clue that he was exactly the type who’d be thrown out of the Deck if he was found out by any of the dancers around them.
Then, Joan grew thirsty. She didn’t know what time it was, but with a start realized that she hadn’t even touched one can of beer yet.
She pulled Lucien’s neck closer down, then said loudly next to his ear, “C’mon!”
Nodding, he took her hand as she led him away from the throng of dancers and toward the rooms deeper within the Deck. She had to find Cal for the Keys to their keg room.
She found the great hulk of Cal’s back somewhere near Jesse’s corner hangout, but couldn’t see any of the others thus far.
She turned back toward Lucien and stopped him. “Stay here”, she yelled loudly, and pushed him against a corner of a wall. “Don’t you dare go anywhere”.
Then without another word she turned on him, and ambled her way along the dancers to where she’d spotted Cal. She finally caught his sleeve, and as Cal turned around, Joan suddenly got an up-close view of why she hadn’t seen any of the others.
There, in the corner room, was Jesse in his place of glory, swanked by his usual entourage of scantily-clad girls, with a dozen of his followers around. But strangely, facing Jesse across the large stone coffee tables was a tall, raggedy, rather shady man who looked not much older then they, crouched on the floor as everyone’s eyes were on him.
“Hey, Joan”, Cal said in a hushed tone, but Joan could hear him. “Where have you been? Jonesy’s been here for quite a while…”
“Jonesy?” she echoed, not recognizing the man at all. Then she flashbacked to the day before, when Calsy and Nel and Flo had entered the store, Calsy gushing about some old friend of hers or something who was peddling the new range.
Jonesy was hunched over the tables, several plastic bags half-filled with sandy looking stuff strewed all around. He was in the motion of demonstrating a weed of one of the bags, and Joan watched, not him, but the faces of the people around.
It was as though they were in a trance. There was Calsy, half-naked, it seemed, but clearly having abandoned two of her boys to get a closer look at Jonesy’s new stuff.
And there was Nel and Flo, in each others’ arms as usual, not making out, but calmly staring at Joney as well. Beck was not going on his usual rounds, begging to be laid, but instead was glued to what everyone else was looking at.
In fact, the only few people who didn’t seem to be as captivated were Noor, (who hadn’t seen Joan yet), Cal, (who just seemed politely interested, but probably was deeply bored), and Jesse, who was calmly watching Joan’s reaction to everything.
She saw him raise a questioning eyebrow at her, and she smiled and shook her head softly, blowing him a kiss as she meant to turn away from them all and back to…
“Hey, watch it!”, Joan yelled loudly as she crashed into someone.
“Hey, hey, Joan, it’s me”.
And Joan saw that Lucien had bumped into her, having disobeyed what she’d told him to do.
“Here, I got you a drink, though it seems like beer’s all they…”
And Joan watched his features change from surprise to confusion to understanding as he saw what Joan had been looking at.
“Lucien, let’s go…”
She led him away without any protests, and Joan felt a sliver of the slightest chills go up her spine as she realized what Lucien knew now. Now he had to know what went on at the Deck, that it wasn’t just a quaint little beach-disco or something, conveniently situated away from the city.
He seemed to recover rather quickly, Joan thought later, as she led him back to the dancing. In another half-hour, Joan was sure that Jonesy would have finished his little show, and Noor and the others would have dispersed.
She had to get Lucien out of there.
“C’mon”, she said for the millionth time that night. She dragged him off the center Deck and pulled him into the nearest room, which, unfortunately for them, was already occupied by what appeared to be a very naked threesome.
“Whoops, sorry”, she muttered, before closing the door very quickly.
“Joan”, she heard Lucien say in a strange voice. She turned to meet his eyes, which seemed to have glazed over at the sight behind the door. “Joan, if you want…we can always go back to my place…no one will notice…”
“Wha-?” Joan started, not understanding what he meant. Then… “Oh!” she cried, stifling a laugh, “Lucien, wait, wait. I don’t think…”
Then, a more horrifying view than the one behind the door met her eyes: Calsy coming in their direction from the left. The blonde girl was bound to see this man and her together, she’d surely remember seeing someone exactly like him the day before…
Without a word, Joan grabbed Lucien and pulled him toward the right, hoping one of the exits would be open.
Joan skidded to a halt as she saw Noor coming from this side, too.
Stuck, Joan tried to slow her breathing, knowing she was going to be caught for sure. If by a miracle, she could have convinced Noor to keep her mouth shut, Calsy never would. She’d go running to Jesse…tell him everything…Joan would be humiliated, shamed…kicked out…
Seeing no other way out, Joan turned to meet Lucien’s confused brown eyes.
“Joan, is something wrong? You’re so…”
And with that, Joan grabbed the front of his neat sweater, and smashed his mouth against hers. She kissed him with a passion fueled by her intense fear of being found out, and she felt him kissing her back. In fact, she was a little surprised as he kissed her back soundly, his hands sliding to her waist as he pushed her back against the door behind her.
Heart pounding, Joan opened her eyes slightly as they kissed, hoping against hope that she looked like she was too preoccupied to be bothered. In fact, she was watching as Noor stopped a few feet short of them, her face surprised, suspicious as ever, but sent her a nod and stormed right past them.
Joan could see Noor stop and drag Calsy away from them, or try to, at least, for Calsy was still coming for them.
“Joan”, she heard Lucien groan as he started kissing her neck, “Don’t you think we should…”
Finding herself nodding, “Yeah”, she breathed back, still sending glances at Calsy who was watching them with a smirk. “Yeah, let’s go to your place…”
And there it was.
Joan didn’t know exactly how it was happening, or why, but she was being led away by Lucien, who seemed to suddenly know the way out of the Deck much more than she did. She remembered seeing the surprised looks on Noor and Calsy’s faces as she was pulled right past them.
In fact, they seemed to be so shocked that she was being led away so early in the night, that they didn’t once look at the man who had succeeded in taking her away like this…
