I need someone to love me for something right now.

Thanks.

3

Sorry this chapter is (a) overdue and (b) mediocre, and also (c) short, but I honestly have not had a free moment to do ANYTHING since April. Things have been ridiculously busy between getting things in order for college, wrapping up art commissions, and getting my pilot's license. The next chapter will be much, much longer, and much, much better. And you can expect it much, much, much sooner (i.e. sometime next week).

& a word of advice: if you can avoid it, NEVER EVER EVER try to become a pilot. The Presolo Written Exam will kick your ass, and then the stupid course you'll take before you go to take your written exam will make you want to be suicidal. Not that I, you know, speak from experience.

11.

Pop Punk Band

Normally, I wake up pretty early-- I'm out of bed and in the shower before six every day-- but on Saturday, it's another story altogether. I never get out of bed before nine, and I don't speak in complete sentences 'till ten or so. Most people don't try to wake me up any earlier, though, because I'm really, really mean when I'm half-asleep: I bite, kick, pinch, and hit anyone who so much as touches me. And the later I've stayed up the night before, the more irritable I can be.

So on Saturday morning, Mikey really should have known better than to try and wake me up at eight, especially since he'd made me dance with him until two in the morning the night before. And he really shouldn't have been so surprised when I finally did come to life, bite his nose, and roll over and fall asleep again.

Really.

But he was, it seemed, and he sat down on my bed and clutched his face. "Fuck, Alice," he grumbled, "what the hell was that for?"

"You're sitting on my arm," I mumbled, and shoved him off the bed before I rolled over yet again and curled up in a ball to try and go to sleep.

I couldn't really tell what happened next, seeing as I was asleep and all, but the next thing I knew, I was in the passenger seat of Mikey's car, still wrapped in my blankets. Looking over curiously, I saw Mikey, driving along and singing softly to himself. He had a giant bruise on his cheekbone and a split lip, and I was just about to ask what type of fight he'd gotten into when he glanced over at me and said, "I kind of wish you'd go back to sleep, Alice."

I glared at him. "And that makes perfect sense," I mumbled, "in light of the fact that you tried to fucking wake me up ten minutes ago."

"Twenty."

"That's not the point."

"Yes, it is."

"Really?"

"Really. Now were you going to sleep again?" he asked impatiently.

"Hm, let me think about that..." I paused for a moment, and then said flatly, "No."

"If it makes you feel better, I promise to never try to wake you up again," he offered hopefully.

Shaking my head, I told him, "No. Though you'd better not try to wake me up ever again, because I just don't appreciate it. At all. Especially since you made me dance with you until two o'clock in the goddamn fucking morning."

"Not that you're angry and bitter," he mumbled sarcastically, wincing slightly as he accidentally bit his lip.

"Whatever. I'm surprised you stayed out longer than I did, and still woke up earlier."

"What do you mean?" he asked, taking his eyes off the road for a moment and glancing at me sideways. "I brought you back here, and then I went to bed."

"Then when did you get that giant bruise on your face? Was Parker using you as a punching bag?"

"Um, Alice, you kind of did that. When I was trying to wake you up?"

"Did I?"

"You did."

"Oh."

"Are you going to apologize, or something?"

"No."

"Why not? You fucking punched me in the face!"

"I did, didn't I? And in the lip, too, it looks like."

"Yeah, that too," he muttered, rubbing his lip lightly. "My lip was fucking bleeding for twenty minutes!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you want me to kiss it and make it better?" I cooed at him sarcastically. He'd stopped the car and was glaring daggers at me from his position in the driver's seat. I sniggered at him, and leaned over to lightly kiss the bruise on his cheekbone. "There," I declared. "All better."

"What about my lip?"

"I don't know, what about it?"

"Are you going to kiss that and make it better, too?"

"Make someone else do it."

"But I want you to do it!"

"What if I didn't want to?"

"Who asked you?"

And with that, he leaned over and pushed me against the car window, attacking my mouth with his in the process. By the time I'd recovered enough to try and push him away, he'd gotten a grip on my wrists and seemed to have no intention of letting me go anytime in the near future. He released me a moment later, though, with a smirk, before he said, "Thanks, Alice, I feel lots better."

"Glad one of us does," I muttered darkly, wrapping myself a little tighter in my blankets. "Can I go back and sleep now?"

"No, Alice, we have things to do this morning."

"What am I going to do while I'm in my pajamas-- no! Stop smirking! I know you're going to say something nasty, and I don't want to hear it!"

He shrugged at me, still smirking. "I wasn't actually going to say anything, you know," he said mildly, "but if it freaks you out so much, then I guess I cou--"

"Don't. Now what are we doing?"

"Band practice, silly Alice. You said you'd sing for us."

"Did I?"

"You did," he told me, nodding solemnly. "And anyways, you're not doing anything in your pajamas, you're already dressed."

"I am?" I checked underneath my blankets to discover that I was, in fact, fully dressed and fully clothed.

"You are. It was kind of scary, actually-- I told you to get up and get dressed, and you rolled out of bed, went to the bathroom, changed, and went right back to sleep again."

"Huh. That's weird."

"Tell me about it. Now get out of the car, please."

"Why?"

"I just told you that we have band practice to go to."

"I don't want to."

"Really? I'd think that you'd love to spend time with me-- I feel like we've grown apart since you've been with my brother, darling."

"We have," I muttered stiffly, turning away from him.

He wasn't going to let it go, though, and he turned me back to face him. "Why's that, hm? I mean, if you really cared about me, you would have found a wa--"

I jerked away from him again. "I never cared about you in the first place, Mikey. Now stop fucking touching me so we can get this over with."

"Oh? I thought you liked it when I touched you." Smirking, he ran his hands under my blanket, but before he could do anything, someone started banging on the window behind my head.

"Mikey!" someone shouted from outside. "Stop being a molester and get your ass inside-- and where's that girl who's supposed to be taking over for you?"

"It's not molestation if she likes it!" Mikey called, before he crawled past me, pushing me against the seat in the process, and jumped out of the car. "Alice, come on already!"

"I don't want to," I whined, but Mikey scooped me up-- rolling me out of my nice warm blanket in the process-- and started carrying me down a quiet suburban street.

He laughed. "Too fucking bad, Alice."

A skinny blonde-haired boy who was about Mikey's height fell in step beside us a second later. "I thought there was a rule about you not bringing girls to practice," he said, glaring at Mikey. "You do remember what happened last time, right?"

"Hard to forget," he muttered. "There's nothing to worry about, though, she's with my fucker of a brother."

"I thought you liked him, since you guys are twins and all?"

"I do. Just not when he's... you know, um..." he said, breaking off and glancing down at me before he went on talking to the blonde boy, "never mind. Forget it."

"No, what?" The blonde and I asked at the same time.

"Nothing!"

"Really?"

"You're upset, it doesn't sound like nothing to me."

"Can't I just be upset for no reason?!"

"Is it PMS?"

"I'm a guy!"

"Then no, no, you can't be upset for no reason. Sorry, Mikey. You're going to have to brighten up, or else tell us what the fuck's up with you."

"How about I push you in the gutter if you don't shut up?" he asked menacingly.

The blonde rolled his eyes and mock-whispered to me, "PMS, for sure."

"I heard that," he growled. Mikey was not really seeming like a morning person.

The other boy and I giggled. Mikey just walked a little faster before he realized that, though he could outrun the blonde boy, he really couldn't get away from me so long as I was in his arms, and he set me down on the sidewalk before he went on walking, mumbling to himself about how annoying the blonde and I were.

Falling into step next to me a moment later, the blonde leaned over and said brightly, "Hi, I'm Viggo! Who are you?"

"I'm Evie," I said with a smile. "Now who are you again?"

"Er, I'm Viggo," he said slowly. "I was going to say that I thought you seemed a little smarter than Mikey's usual stupid bitches, but, um, you're kind of not."

Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him. "Well, I was kind of trying to figure out why you and I seem to be heading in the same direction today-- it's not like I'd forget someone's name that fast-- so I'm kind of thinking you're the stupid one. And," I added, with a flip of my hair, "you could not pay me enough to be one of Mikey's stupid bitches. I like my boys to be smarter than any rodents they may or may not resemble."

"What are you saying about--"

"That he's like a rat in every aspect, except for his intelligence-- he's barely as smart as an amoeba. And if I'm supposed to be the stupid one, how is it that you're not following what I'm saying?"

He glared at me for a moment before he said, "Point taken. If you're not one of his dumb bitches, what are you?"

"I'm supposed to be singing for him."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Ask him?" We both looked up, and saw Mikey three blocks away and showing no sign of stopping. "Or maybe not."

"It's okay. He's just got his panties in a bunch about-- actually I don't really care what he's pissy about. Whatever. HEY, MIKEY," he bellowed. "YOU MISSED IT BY TWO BLOCKS!"

Mikey turned around and stormed back down the street.

"PMS, you said?" I asked Viggo with a grin.

"For sure," he replied. "For sure."

--

A few minutes later, we stopped at a hot pink clapboard house. As Mikey came running up, I giggled, and he glared at me. "What are you laughing at, Sleeping Beauty?"

"Your hair matches the house," I told him, before I dissolved into giggles again.

"That's not funny, Alice," he grumbled, slinging an arm around my waist and dragging me up the house's walkway. "And you shouldn't hang around Viggo, he's a bad influence."

I glanced back at the blonde, eyebrow raised. He had taken a rubber band out of his pocket and was twirling it around his fingers vacantly. "Yeah, looks like he'd make a terrible influence. Oh no, I'm going to be-- gasp-- easily amused!" I clutched at Mikey in pretend-terror. "Save me, oh strong one!"

He grumbled something at me and stormed up the rest of the walkway, pushing me in front of him and shoving me through the door.

The house was completely silent for a moment, and then, out of nowhere, I heard a yell, and someone flew into me and tackled me into a coatrack.

"Alright!" they bellowed. "I'm holding him down! Jimmy, get the tofu!"

"Tofu?" I asked, but then it occured to me that the voice sounded familiar. "Wait, Adrian?"

"That's my name, don't wear it-- oh, Evie, it's just you! Don't worry about the tofu, Jimmy!" After he'd finished yelling at Jimmy (whoever he was, and wherever he was), he helped me up and picked up all the coats. "Sorry about that, I thought you were Mikey."

"So you were going to dump tofu on me?"

"Well, actually, we were going to pour it on him."

"I'm going to regret asking this, but why?"

"Because, it's Mikey, and it's tofu. That's why." Adrian seemed pretty pleased with that response, so I figured it would be better to not ask for any clarification-- and anyways, he'd gone off on a tangent about the culinary merits of baroque architecture, so I really didn't want to interrupt him. I just quietly backed away, and I was about to turn around when I bumped into something-- or, as it turned out, someone.

"I thought there was supposed to be a rule about skanks at practice," a guy's voice muttered. I turned around to see a guy about my height, with a black mohawk that stood six inches off the top of his head. He had about ten piercings in each ear, and he looked like he wanted to skin me alive.

I started to back away, but I'd only gone about half a step when I bumped into someone else-- it was Mikey, this time. "Sorry, Jimmy," he said, grabbing me by the waist and tugging me to him when it became clear that I was going to try and run out of the house like my life depended on it. "You're going to have to put up with this one-- she's going to be singing for us."

"Why? Can she even sing?" He was growling now, and I was getting the impression that Jimmy was just not that friendly of a person.

Mikey thought about it for a moment, before he said, "I dunno about that, but she thinks she can, so that's all that matters, right?"

"Sure. Whatever." Glaring at Mikey, he went on, "It really isn't healthy to get attached to random fucks, especially when you're going to dump them. And especially when you're obsessed with-- what was that bitch's name again? Yvette?"

"Who's 'Yvette'?" I asked, glancing at Mikey with an eyebrow raised. At the mention of some other girl being attached to Mikey, I felt a totally irrational stab of jealousy-- irrational, because Mikey was a jerk who liked to harrass people and drag them out of bed way earlier than was proper. Right.

"Fuck if I know," he muttered, though I noticed that he wasn't looking at me when he said it, which meant he was probably lying.

Now it was Jimmy's turn to glance skeptically at Mikey. "How can you not know? You talk about her all the fuckin' time."

I felt another jealous twinge. What was so great about this stupid Yvette, anyways?

"Jimmy, I don't even know anyone named Yvette. Really. Just shut the fuck up, already."

"Then why are you always talking about her? Huh?"

"'Cause he's always talking about-- oh, I see," Viggo said, looking right at Mikey. "The name's not Yvette, Jimmy."

"Oh." Jimmy paused for a moment. "He still talks about some dumb bitch all the time. What's her name, then?"

Viggo shrugged. "Let's ask Mikey, eh?" He smirked in Mikey's direction, and Mikey looked incredibly uncomfortable, blushed, and looked at the floor.

"I know who it is!" Adrian shouted, just as Jimmy said, "Oh, shit, did I say Yvette? I meant--"

Mikey raised an eyebrow at him, Viggo slapped a hand over Jimmy's mouth, and Adrian... well, I really couldn't tell what he was doing, though it kind of looked like he was building a house out of tofu.

"Um," I said intelligently, "what, now?"

They all looked at me for a second, and then Adrian picked up his bass, Viggo grabbed his guitar, and Jimmy walked over to his drums and sat down behind them. Mikey was silent for a few more seconds, before he muttered, "Nothing, Alice. Nothing," and picked up his guitar. "Anyways," he said, a little bit louder, "You only have to learn about six songs-- do you think you can do that?"