Monday, October 17, 2011

Season 2 – Episode 4 – Act IV

            Cerise climbed into the driver’s seat of Terry’s car and put on her seatbelt while Terry fumbled with the seatbelt in the passenger seat.  She was nervous to drive his car but she couldn’t let him drive since he was clearly drunk as hell.  Cerise really didn’t like it when Terry got drunk but it was his birthday so she wasn’t going to make a thing out of it. 
            “You’re so pretty,” he said, petting her hair as she adjusted the rear-view mirror.
            “Thanks,” she said, turning the key in the ignition and carefully pulling out of the parking lot.
            “So pretty… my wild cherry.”
            She slapped his hand away.  “Ok but can you please not distract me right now?  I need to concentrate.”
            “Wild cherry!” he sang to himself.
            She couldn’t help but laugh.  Pretty much the whole drive home was like that, him singing and her trying to watch the road.  When they got to his dad’s house she had to help him out of the car.  He leaned on the hood as she gathered his gifts out of the backseat.
            She piled the gifts into his arms and then led him to the front door, which she unlocked as quietly as she could.  They slowly and quietly walked down to his bedroom in the basement.
             “I think I’m drunk,” he announced as he collapsed on the bed, his gifts sprawled out over him.
            “Yeah, ya think?”
            “Do you disapprove?”
            “Don’t talk so loud, Terry.  You’re gonna wake up the whole house.”
            “Do you disapprove?” he stage whispered.
            “You should probably get some rest.”
            “Will you stay with me?” he asked, sitting up and staring at her pleadingly.
            She was about to respond when he grabbed her hands and pulled her down on top of him. 
            “Terry!” she pushed herself up and sat next to him.  He pawed at her face and she swatted his hands away, nevertheless giggling at this strange display of affection.  “Ok, I have to go.”
            “But I love you.”
            Cerise wasn’t sure how to respond.  Was it a genuine sentiment or a drunken rambling?
            “I love you so much,” he went on.
            “Um, thanks.”
            “Do you love me?” he looked at her almost pitifully.
            “I think you should get some sleep now.”
            He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.  “I wanna make love to you.”
            “I know you do but…”
            “I want you so much.  Let’s make love.”
            “Ok but not tonight.”
            “Why not?”
            “’Cause you’re drunk,” she said, gently pushing him away.
            “Oh yeah.  That makes sense.  You’re so smart.”
            “Ok, goodnight, Terry.  Happy birthday.”
            She tried to stand up but he pulled her down again and held her as he snuggled into the bed.  A second later he was snoring.  She slipped out of his arms and stood up, taking off his shoes and quietly placing them on the floor.  One by one she took the scattered gifts and placed them on the bedside table and then pulled the blanket over him as best she could, considering he was lying on half of it.
            She tiptoed out of his house, locking the door behind her and drove Terry’s car home, quietly entering her own house.  It was four in the morning and she was seriously exhausted.  Thank god she didn’t have school on Fridays.

            Shauna was awakened by Stan’s loud snoring.  What time was it?  Morning she guessed because she could see light streaming in from behind the curtains.  Without thinking she reached out for her cell phone but then remembered that it wasn’t working anymore.  Obviously her parents had stopped paying for it.  She hadn’t bothered getting it reactivated even though Stan kept bugging her about it.  But she kind of liked not being reachable.  He couldn’t call home to say she should do this, that or the other.  Of course, that lead to a lot of screaming and accusations of laziness and freeloading but whatever, Stan would probably always find something to scream about anyway.
            He’d be angry when he woke up.  Would he try to punish her in some way?  It’s true she’d promised to hang out with his friends and she supposed she broke that promise by slinking away in the night but then again, he never said how long she had to hang out for.  She’d sat there and watched them play GTA for hours.  Hours and hours and agonizing hours.  Surely that was enough.  But just in case it wasn’t, maybe she should get up and make breakfast or something.  Yeah, that was a good idea.  He couldn’t be angry if she cooked them up a nice breakfast of eggs and bacon and whatever. 
            Shauna lay in bed, thinking about what to cook and how to cook it for quite a while and it was only when she had to pee that she finally got up.  As she tiptoed through the apartment she saw that Bill and Rod had stayed over.  They were slumped in the living room, both half on and half off the couch.  Did that mean she had to cook breakfast for them too?  And what if she cooked it and they kept sleeping and by the time they got up it was cold and then Stan would be angry at her for wasting food?  She went to the kitchen and saw that it was only 6 in the morning.  Fuck that shit.  Way too early.  Shauna tiptoed back to bed and placed herself next to Stan, careful not to rouse him. 

            “Where’s Terry?” asked Julie as Cerise tumbled into the bathroom.
            It was only 7am and Cerise had every intention of sleeping a lot longer but Julie was playing her music at full blast as she applied a crap load of makeup. 
            “Is it really completely necessary to listen to Rihanna at like, volume eleven?” grumbled Cerise as she reached for Julie’s ipod.
            “Where’s Terry?” Julie asked again.
            “At his house,” Cerise said like it was obvious.
            “Then how come his car is in the driveway?”
            “’Cause I drove him home last night and then drove myself home.”
            “So he didn’t stay here?”  Julie seemed sort of disappointed.
            “No, why would he?”
            “So what time did you get in last night?” Julie snotted, talking much more loudly than was necessary.
            “I dunno. Why do you care?”
            “How come you don’t have a curfew and I do?” Julie asked, practically screaming.
            Their mother emerged from her bedroom, trying the belt on her robe.  “There’s no need to scream, Julie.”
            “So how come Cerise doesn’t have a curfew and I do?”
            “’Cause I’m responsible.  ‘Cause I don’t drink.  ‘Cause I’m designated driver for my friends who do drink.  ‘Cause I drop my boyfriend off at his house and then come home after instead of staying there with him or having him come here.”  Cerise smiled tightly.
            Angela simply smiled and walked downstairs while Julie made a throaty noise of irritation.
            “Do we seriously have to be yelling at the tops of our lungs at 7 fucking am?!” screeched Simone’s voice, coming from behind her bedroom door.
            “Yes we do!” hollered Julie.  “So can I get rid of my curfew or what?” she asked, traipsing downstairs. 
            Cerise went back to bed and a few hours later she was up again and driving Terry’s car back to him. 
            “Go away!” hollered Terry as she descended into his room.
            “Terry, it’s me,” said Cerise.
            “Oh, hey, sorry,” he said, lifting the pillow off his head.  He’d apparently gotten up at some point and taken the rest of his clothes off.  He wore only boxers and Stir-Fry the stuffed chicken lay next to him in bed.
            “I just brought back your car.”
            “I drove you home last night and then drove myself home and now I’m back.”
            “Oh, you could’ve just stayed here,” he said, his eyes closed.
            “Yeah well, anyway.”
            “What time is it?”
            “Like noon.”
            “Only?  Fuck, I can sleep more.  Do you mind bringing me a glass of water and some aspirin?”
            Cerise agreed and found a glass and some aspirin in the bathroom.  She brought them to him and he drank down the pills and smiled at her weakly, sitting up.  She sat next to him and picked up the chicken.
            “So was I dreaming like a total nightmare or did Erica Mackey show up last night?”
            “Yeah, she was there.  I told her off.”
            “Shit.  I don’t even remember that.  I guess that means I had a good time,” he chuckled.
            “I’ll never understand that.  Why get so drunk that you can’t even remember what happened?  It’s just a waste.”
            “Yeah I guess.  Wait, no, I do remember. Yeah, you told her she was bitter and oozing puss and shit.  It was hilarious.  And Chrissy was there too.  Hey, what the fuck happened to Karine?  She wasn’t even there by the time they all showed up.”
            “Actually, she left after Andrew showed up.  I said bye to you for her.”
            “Weird,” he mumbled, grabbing Stir-Fry and making it dance.  “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”
            “It’s a hen, not a rooster.”
            “Cluck, cluck?”
            “I tried to have sex with you last night, didn’t I?  Or was that a dream?”
            “No, you tried,” Cerise chuckled.
            “You said not when you’re drunk.”
            “Yep and you said that makes sense.”
            “Really?  I said that?”
            “Do you remember what else you said?”
            “No, why?  Did I say something totally retarded?”
            “No,” Cerise smiled, playing with the chicken’s legs. 
            Terry laughed and then cradles his head in his hands.  “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”

            The light woke Shauna.  She still didn’t know what time it was but it must be afternoon because the room was crazy bright, even with the curtains drawn.  She lay there for a while, afraid to move, afraid to stir in case Stan woke up but when she finally turned around she realized he wasn’t even there.  But Bill was.  He was standing in the doorway just staring at her.  What the fuck?!  She turned back around and grabbed a pillow, pulling it over her head.  What was she supposed to do?  How long had he been watching her sleep?  Why was he watching her sleep?
            She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she finally pulled away the pillow and sat up.  Bill was gone.  She got up slowly and carefully and walked out to the living room.  It was empty.  The TV clock announced that it was 2 in the afternoon.  Stan would be at work.  Bill was nowhere to be found.  Rod either.  What the hell?  She hadn’t heard him leave; hadn’t heard the front door open or close.  She’d had a pillow over her head but so what?  Would that have muffled enough sound to prevent her from hearing the front door?  She inspected every room in the apartment, even checking closets and the bathtub.  Had she fallen back asleep?  She didn’t think so.  Had Bill just been super quiet when he’d left?  Or had she imagined the entire thing?  What the fucking fuck?  Shauna sat on the couch and lit a cigarette but it wasn’t doing anything to calm her nerves.  This was fucking weird. 

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