Indie Ink Challenge: Life of a Wannabe Couch Potato

“I like being a couch potato,” I stated.  I shoved a chip in my mouth and stretched out on the ugly-olive-but-oh-so-comfy sofa that my brother and I had found on Craigslist a couple of months ago. Our last one suffered a horrible demise during a run-in with a bitchy coven of witches, who overran the apartment with pestilence.  I cannot explain the levels of awful that was without shuddering.

My brother rolled his eyes and sat down next to me with a book in his hand.  He had the same light brown hair and blue eyes that I did, but even sitting down he towered over me in height.  Sean also looked much wiser and cooler than I did, which was never fair and I wondered if it was just because he was older.   The one thing I was sure of in that moment as he flipped the pages of his four hundred page novel…he would never make a good couch potato.

When Sean didn't say anything, I continued, “There’s something wonderfully normal about vegging out on a rainy day with some junk food and nowhere to go.”

“Yeah, it’s like Christmas,” Sean replied without even missing a beat in his book.

I glared at him and said, “This is the first Saturday in forever where there wasn't peril at the hand of jackasses that we had to handle or you weren't in annoying dictator mode.”

“I’m hardly a dictator.”

“ Isn't that what all dictators say?”

“No, they throw lazy bums like you in jail for insolent behavior and go on with their day.  I’m just not that lucky.”

I continued to glare at the side of his head.  Over the years, I've had to listen to a lot of girls go on about how handsome and great my brother was.  If only they could see him in all his snarky glory.  I yawned, stretched out again, and began the important task of flipping through the list of programming on the television.  It had taken years of whining, but I had finally convinced Sean of the wonders of cable.  Maybe in another ten years, he’ll be ready to try TIVO.

I glanced over the list of upcoming shows.  This was part of the trappings of cable. I already knew what I was going to watch, but I felt compelled to see what else was on.  It wouldn't have surprised me to learn that the cable companies were in league with a few demons on the invention.  It definitely screamed evil in that I-love-it-and-can’t-stop-myself way.  I popped another chip into my mouth as I scrolled through the long list of channels and upcoming programming.

And I gasped in horror.

Sean’s eyes snapped up from his book and focused on me.  “What’s wrong?”

“My day.”

“A minute ago life was grand.”

“That was before I was in the middle of a freaking television crisis of epic proportions.”

“Sounds awful.”

“Did you not hear the epic proportions part?”

Sean shrugged.  "I honestly don't know how to respond."

"This is serious, Sean.  I was planning to spend my afternoon catching up on Ghost Hunters International, but I just noticed there is a Teen Mom marathon on MTV.   I haven't seen the current season, but it's such an awesome train wreck - always makes me feel better about my own lame existence."

Sean dropped his book and snatched the remote out of my hand the same way he would a weapon - quick and efficient, leaving me to wonder if he was part ninja.  He put on the National Geographic channel, smirked at my groan, and said, "Problem solved and neither of us will be stupider afterward."

I crossed my arms.  "That was not one of the choices."

"I'm not watching Teen Mom."

"But Macy and Ryan are fighting again--"

"I am not watching Teen Mom, Cady.  I prefer not to partake in a sociological experiment gone completely awry, leaving me worried about the future of the human race if these are the people procreating."

I was not beyond a full-fledged pout-turned-tantrum if necessary.  I unfolded and refolded my arms in a very bratty manner and said, "That's what's so great about MTV shows."  His look was unflappable as he picked his book back up.  Sometimes I hated my brother.  A lot.

I grabbed the remote from his lap and said, "Ghost Hunters it is."

"That's not much better."

"You're ruining my happy lazy day."

"You know as well as I do that nothing on that show is accurate."

"It's a television show, not a dissertation on the proper techniques for dealing with ornery spirits and poltergeists."

Sean shrugged in the way that said I could do what I want but it wasn't the right thing to do.   It was a fixture in my childhood.  "Do what you want, but it seems like a waste of time."

"Seems like a waste of time," I mimicked in my best Sean-is-boring voice and I stuck out my tongue in his direction.  I flipped through the channels and settled in on Ghost Hunters as a new episode was starting.  I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Sean was back to reading his book.  We might not have the same ideas for how to spend a quiet day, but the lack of impending doom was a nice break.  I said, "Wouldn't it be great if the biggest decision of the day is whether to watch Teen Mom or Ghost Hunters International?"

"If you say so."

"I have nowhere to go and nothing to do and I'm going to enjoy it."

"Okay."

"I mean it," I replied.  I turned my attention to the show for a few minutes.  Not that I would tell him, but Sean was right about this show.  There really was a disturbing number of inaccuracies in how they dealt with ghosts.  

I tapped my foot against the coffee table and fanned myself.  It suddenly felt a bit hot in the living room, despite the wind billowing in from the open window.   I resisted the urge to get up and pace around the room.  It turned out being still and zoning out were not for me.

My brother glanced at me and said, "Let me guess, this is boring and you want to go do something."

"Yes please.  I'm not made for mindless television all day, just at night," I said.  I hopped up off the couch and slipped into my boots and jacket.  I bounced on the balls of my feet while I watched my brother amble around the room like an old man, gathering his keys and wallet and patting his jacket pockets.    Once he was ready, I flung open the door and hurried into the hall of our building.   "Sweet freedom!"

I wasn't looking at him, but I knew my brother was rolling his eyes in my direction as he locked the door. 

---

For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week, Stefan challenged me with "Two things happened at once, it was which one to act upon that I couldn't decide..." and I challenged Sarah Cass with "It was a case of mistaken identity." (Her response is here.)

---

Note:  My piece is pretty liberal with the prompt - but it's what came out, so I decided to go with it.  This is another piece that uses my character, Cady.

Indie Ink: the knight in shining armor

I decided to see how close to the deadline I could push this week's Indie Ink Challenge.  For some reason I thought I'd have more time to write on vacation - not the case thus far. I was lucky enough to get another great prompt from Tim King - The story opens with your main character at the checkout counter of a convenience store, and s/he is $1.50 short - and I challenged Chaos Mandy (her great response is here).  I totally own that I just wrote this in a hurry to make the deadline and it hasn't been edited properly yet.  Also, this week 
I'm playing with my recurring character, Cady.

---

I stared longingly at the Snapple and aspirin on the counter of the convenience store.  The twenty-something guy in the blue smock behind the register didn't seem to care much about my plight.  Just repeated, "Yeah, you're short 1.50" as he shuffled the three dollars in his hand for effect.

"I realize that," I gritted out.  My head was in the middle of hammering out a full-fledged symphony.   I checked my pockets hoping that I could will two bucks into existence to no avail.  I sighed and said, "Forget the Snapple and just give me the aspirin."

"Don't do that.  I've got it," a familiar voice said.

I caught Lucian out of the corner of my eye and felt torn between happy to see him and utterly humiliated.  I bit down on my lip and nodded in order to keep from saying something mean and unnecessary.   I bit down even harder, tasting blood on my lip, when strange sensations burned across my skin where his hands brushed up against me as he moved to the pay cashier. 


He offered me a dazzling smile, the type that reached his eyes and made the midnight blue coloring seem so bright.  He handed me the plastic bag and it gave me the opportunity to get a good look at him.  His jet black hair was wet and pieces clung to his forehead.  He was wearing his usual cargo pants and tee-shirt attire, but it looked good on him, and despite the lighting in the store, his creamy skin made him look almost ethereal. 

Everything about him hit me in waves in a way I wasn't used to.  I had liked guys in my time, but this just seemed to good to be true.  In my life, that usually meant he tortured small animals for fun.


Lucian squeezed my shoulder and said, "You look like hell, Cady."

I wanted to roll my eyes, but it would've hurt too much.  "Is this how you woo all the girls?  Swoop in to save the day and then insult them?"

He winked and said, "Only the special ones."

"I'm honored."

"Everything okay?"

I shrugged.  "Rough day."

"Well, I'm glad I could help, even in such a small way."

My body betrayed me and I smiled.  What was it about this guy that turned me into this girly-girl that I never was before?  "You're a regular knight-in-shining-armor.  Thanks."

"You almost sound like you mean it."

I met his gaze.  He always had this amused flicker in his eyes.  I was both jealous and suspicious of anyone who could take on life that way.  I wasn't sure what to do or where this was going or if I even wanted to go along for the ride, but at the same time, I couldn't imagine never seeing Lucian again.  And how sad was that?  Some girls require wining and dining, but my heart can be won for a bottle of aspirin and a Snapple. 

"I'd invite you out for coffee if you didn't look about ready to pass out on your feet.  Can you get home okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine," I replied.  I realized I was still smiling like a crazed loon and skirted around him to make a getaway.  Our hands brushed against each other and I felt my face flush with heat and I wondered if his lips felt as soft as they looked.

I think I hit my head harder than I originally thought.  When I swayed clumsily on my feet, Lucian was there to steady me.   I couldn't help but notice he smelled like soap and a peppermint.  Oddly appealing.  I shut my eyes and said, "I'm okay, really."

"I'm helping you home.  I promise not to tell anyone that even you occasionally need help.  Please tell me the other guy looks as just as bad," Lucian replied, leading me out of the store. 

I shrugged.  "It's a long story."

"It always is with you."

I nodded.  I wasn't used to this type of closeness with anyone, let alone a guy that made everything go blurry around the edges.  I was torn between making a run for it and enjoying the warmth and safety of his arm draped around my shoulder.  I knew what I should be doing.  Lucian was a potential complication and those never boded well. 

"What can I say?  I'm an enigma."

"Well, you're definitely something."

I chuckled, despite the pain that thrummed through my veins.   "Right back at you."

fiction: line karma scene

It's that time of week where I post my Indie Ink writing challenge because I'm a skilled procrastinator, who can create an excuse out of anything.  This week I challenged and was challenged by Tim King.  My prompt was, "If I had just taken the express line, none of this would have happened."  (Tim's response to my prompt is here.)

I wasn't sure what direction this would go in, but Cady's voice, a character I've written a few challenge responses around, came to the forefront first. 

---

I approached the check-out line with sixteen items in my basket.  I momentarily considered the Express Line, but the old lady in front of me pulled out a check book and looked puzzled by the paper or plastic question.  I decided it was smarter to get into the regular line.  I should’ve known better.  I should’ve done the exact opposite of my natural instinct since I was pretty sure that I had the worst line karma in the world.  In a past life, I had abused people who were waiting in long lines and this was a punishment that came back to bite me in the ass every time I entered a grocery store or bank. 

I knew almost immediately that I had made a mistake, but my own stubborn optimism – maybe I’m wrong and this is the fastest lane – kept me from correcting the situation.  Cue to ten minutes later in a line that was barely moving, a bratty kid, and a parent that had bought fifty Lean Cuisine meals.

“Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb,” the small child in unisex overalls sang out.  It appeared that Mommy and daddy never taught him the meaning of indoor voice.  It wouldn’t have been so bad if the kid knew the whole song.  Instead, he repeated the same few words over and over.  We were on round thirteen when my cellphone rang. 

“Tell me I have to drop whatever I’m doing at this very moment and come save the day,” I answered.

My brother chuckled and said, “I wanted to make sure you remembered the vegetables.”

“Seriously?”

“I know you, Cady.  I’ll end up fifty dollars poorer and only cookies and ice cream to show for it.”

“You should be so lucky,” I muttered.  I watched as the young mother in front of me pulled out a stack of coupons like she had escaped from an episode of Extreme Couponing.  I groaned and said, “I hope you weren’t planning to cook that broccoli anytime soon because I’m pretty sure I’m going to die here.”

“You keep saying you need time to think.   The universe has provided.”

“Not like this.  There's a weird smell and really bad lighting.”

“Suck it up.”

“Why do I have to do the grocery shopping?  It’s sexist!”

I could practically hear Sean rolling his eyes.  “I believe I gave you a choice.”

“Grocery shopping or bathroom duty is not much of a choice.  I took the lesser of two evils.  That doesn’t mean I have to suffer in silence.”

“Like you even know how.”  

“I hate you, and you’ll be sad when I die of boredom.”

“Don’t forget to use the tote bags.  There's no reason to take your bratty mood out on the planet.”

I glanced at my basket and realized I had left my brother’s collection of canvas bags on the radiator at home.  “Yeah, whatever. Bye.”  I hung up without giving him a chance to respond and watched as the cashier manually entered each coupon.  I glanced over to the express lane and the old lady was long gone.  Of course.

I glanced back and forth between my current position and the line at the Express lane, debating whether I should live on the edge with my sixteen items or just stay where I was.  Before I could make a move, a young guy slipped into line behind me.   I was fated to spend the rest of my life in the longest grocery store line ever created.  All the ways I used to picture my life ending, none was ever nearly as tragic as going out quite like this – ensconced in boring domesticity. 

“That lady has a lot of coupons,” the guy said just as the kid started in with yet another round of “Mary had a Little Lamb” sans most of the words. 

I glanced at the guy.  He was about my age and he had the look of someone who tried too hard to be different.  His hair was messed up in a way that showed he used a lot of product to make it messy and he was dressed in a strange concoction of pleather. 

When he caught my gaze, he smiled and held out his hand.  “I’m Tyler.”

“Hi,” I offered and spun back around. 

“Do you come here often?”

I rolled my eyes, but remained silent.  I didn’t make a habit of talking to most people, let alone strange guys in the grocery store, even if they were semi-attractive.

“I’m new to the area and this was the only shop that had decent food at decent prices.”

And that’s when I knew that he was one of those, the type of person who just kept talking and pretended not to notice the recognized social hints for “leave me the hell alone.”  It didn’t matter if I took part in the conversation or not.  Tyler-Tries-Too-Hard was going to keep talking.  Somehow, I would find a way to blame my brother for this.

“I still haven’t found a decent coffee place.”

I turned around and said, “Café Buzz is pretty good.  Two blocks down.   Cheap, but it gets busy pretty quickly.”

“Good to know.  Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe we could go together?”

Save the planet, fight bad guys…these were things I could do in my sleep.  My brother had made sure I knew every possible way to defend myself, but I still hadn’t mastered the ability to talk with guys that weren’t related to me.  I was lame and I embraced it.  Kind of.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I said.

“Your boyfriend would get jealous?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“A pretty girl like you single?  It’s my lucky night.”

Curse you, coupon lady and bad line karma!  Apparently, even in everyday situations, I was a magnet for trouble.  Sometimes it just came in the form of really bad attempts at socializing.

I glanced down at my basket and weighed my options.  The problem with moving to the express line was that Tyler might follow me.  If I didn’t return home with my brother’s required greens and protein, I might as well find a new place to live.  I decided to do what any tough, smart teenage girl would do when faced with a situation like this.

“Oh, would you look at that?  I totally forgot Sean’s complex carbs.  He lifts like these really big weights because he’s like really big…and he’ll be so mad if I forget them.  Excuse me.  Gotta go,” I said, moving past him back toward the store.  I didn’t give him a chance to respond, just darted into the closest aisle where I could hide out. 

If I had just taken the express line, none of this would have happened.  And now I was going to have to explain to Sean why it took me an extra half hour at the store. 

Not the best night of my life, that was for sure.

wherein a stranger appears...

Another week of the Indie Ink Writing Challenges.  This week's prompt really inspired me.  I pulled out the character I used a few weeks ago for this challenge because it seemed to fit.  And it got my mind spinning with all sorts of ideas, which I always appreciate.  This week I challenged Disease (his response is here) and my challenge - A stranger approaches you on the street and says, "I had to do it; I had no choice.  Help me!" - came from the wonderful Kerri.

---

If there was one thing I was keenly aware of, it was how quickly things could go horribly wrong. A quiet evening could quickly give way to fighting and blood-curdling screams. Never pretty.

My brother said that it was just me, that I had an uncanny knack for attracting trouble. Part of it comes with the territory of my life and abilities, but I’m also convinced that I’ve been punished for some cosmic injustice I caused in a past life. It was the only way to explain the invisible beam that acted as radar for demented weirdos everywhere.

Like tonight. I headed out the back door of work with a spring in my step and a song stuck in my head. I was in an unusually good mood, which should’ve been the first hint of things to come, and my mind wasn’t really focused on the area, but replaying the earlier conversation I had with Lucian. Despite my best efforts, he was really starting to grow on me. If I had been paying attention, I would’ve smelled the trouble in the crisp autumn air. Instead, I was caught off guard when a twenty-something woman appeared around the corner and rushed toward me.

 

 

Her hands balled up into the collar of my coat and she said, “I had to do it; I had no choice.”

 

 

“Are you okay? ” I replied. Not my finest moment, but I never claimed to be Sherlock Holmes.

 

 

“I had to do it. Please help me,” she replied. I looked her over. Something had definitely gone down. Her face was puffy, her cheeks streaked with mascara, and her hair looked like it had done battle with an electric socket. There were scratches on her hands, which were currently tightened into fists that she knocked into her sides.

 

 

I glanced around the area to see if whoever had done this to her was bringing up the rear and ushered her into the back room of the bar. I said, “Are you hurt? I mean, besides the obvious. Should I call the police?” I tried not to wince as I said it. I wasn’t a big fan of the boys in the blue – part of the whole spending your life on the run thing – but I wasn’t sure there was much of an option. I wasn't exactly equipped to handle run-of-the-mill domestic squabbles or robberies-gone-wrong.

“I need help. He’s hurt. I had to do it. He told me I would, but I didn’t…please, we need to find him.”

I placed my hand on her shoulder gently like I was petting a feral animal. I was never very good at offering assurances, usually leaving that sort of thing to my brother. When she didn’t move away, I forced a small smile and said, “I’ll help you, but I need to know what’s going on.”

“I’m going to sound crazy.”

She looked crazy and likely was crazy, but I didn’t want to tell her that. I tried to make my voice as warm and fuzzy as I could muster given the circumstances and said, “It’s okay.”

“It’s Dylan, my boyfriend. He tried to warn me that something could happen, but I thought he was kidding,” she paused as her eyes flittered around the stock room before focusing on me. Her face relaxed for a second, as though everything was suddenly okay, but then her eyes scrunched up like was about to cry again.   She said, “You need to come with me.”

She started to pull me back out the door, but I stepped out of her grasp. “Wait a second. I need to know what we’re walking into.”

“There isn’t any time. He could be hurt. He said you could help.”

“Me? How does Dylan know me?” I asked.

She bit down on her lip, and didn’t say anything for what felt like forever. “It was before. He told me that there were people like him at Traveler’s Bar, that they could help me.”

"Like him?  I'm not sure I understand," I replied.  Warning bells started to go off in my head and I suddenly felt stupid and exposed.  "And I'm not sure you want any drunk customers assisting you, so maybe we should call the cops."

"You said you would help me," she replied. 

This was why I avoided the Good Samaritan crap.  I felt slightly guilty for wasting what could be precious minutes if Dylan really was hurt, but self preservation had been instilled in me since I could walk and something about this didn't make sense.

"We really need to take this inside.  It's warm and we can clean you up while you tell me what happened," I said.  I moved toward the door that connected to the kitchen and further away from the girl.  

"But we're wasting time!"

I didn't want to completely write this girl off if she was telling the truth, but something wasn't right.  Energy was pulsing through me like my body was about to go into fight-or-flight mode and my mind was in overdrive. If she was in such dire need of help, why hadn’t she gone inside the bar instead of skulking in alleyways on the offchance someone would appear? 

The more I thought about it, the more the nervous energy gave way to a prickle of fear as I realized I might have walked right into an Agency trap.  My brother would be so pissed off if something happened because I had gotten sloppy. 

“I think we should go inside. My boss, Ray, can contact the police," I said.  After all, there was a chance I was being paranoid, and I didn't want that on my conscience.

“No, that won’t work.”

She reached for me again and this time there was a gleam in her eye that was definitely not worry or panic. I had just enough time to I side-step her grasp and spin on my heels.  She didn't seem to expect it and almost careened into the kitchen door.  She muttered under her breath and when she turned around to face me, the marred face was gone, replaced with a glittering porcelain complexion with no blemishes and black empty eyes.

Shit.  So much for paranoia.

I tried to maneuver around her to the kitchen door, but she was blocking my way. If I could get into the main area of the bar, I would be okay. The laws forbid the Agency from entering safe havens, which explained why she hadn’t tried to go inside. She couldn’t.

“Cady, you’re a hard girl to track down.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why do you guys always have to use clichés? It makes my head hurt.”

“I’ll make your insides hurt if you don’t come with me.”

“Seriously? Does that work on anyone?”

Her fists unclenched to reveal long, yellow fingernails. “Too bad they want you alive.”

There was no way I was giving her a chance to cut me open and I knew my best bet was to act quickly.  I slipped my hand into the back pocket of my messenger bag and threw my knife. It struck her in the shoulder, which provided me with an opportunity to knock her to the ground with a kick. As she fell to the ground with a grunt, I pulled my knife out and turned it around in my palm. I could feel the blade cutting my hand, but I didn’t care as I tightened my hands and hit her in the face with the handle. 

I shook my head and said, “This is why I always win. You guys talk too much.”

I opened the door and hurried through the kitchen, garnering looks from my co-workers, and made my way to the bar. The place was already packed and a mix of music and conversation reverberated against the walls. I walked up to Ray, the owner and my boss, who was talking about the Yankees with a patron, and said, “We’ve got an intruder.”

His head snapped away from the patron and he closed the distance between us. He picked up my hand carefully and asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live, but you know what this means, right?”

Ray shook his head. “You’re a real pain in my ass, Cady. Things were so much quieter before you came along.”

“And not nearly as fun. Can you handle things back there while I call my brother? If they know where I work, there’s a chance they know where we’re living now.”

“Use the phone in my office. Close the door and don’t let anyone in except for me,” Ray said as we weaved back through the bar. He pushed me into a small dingy room that served as his office and added, “Do you have a weapon?”

“Never leave home without it.”

“Good.”

“I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Remind me of that when you tell me how someone got the drop on you,” he called back to me as he made his way to the kitchen. There was a good chance, she was gone, but if she was still there, Ray would handle it. He had his own special abilities and no one, not even the Agency, messed with guys like Ray. I was just glad he was on my side.

I glanced around the area before I shut the door to Ray’s office. I slouched down into a chair and picked up the phone from the wobbly table from the bar that served as Ray’s desk. I took a few restorative breathes and attempted to make sense of the events that had just unfolded. I had come so close to walking right into a trap and I couldn’t help but wonder how long they had known where I was. The Agency was getting bolder while I had become complacent. Life had being going well for the past year – no major incidents or Agency sightings – and both my brother and I had relaxed into a routine. It was a mistake and things had to change.

---

If you're interested, I also wrote an Indie Ink Challenge response that featured Cady here.

Indie Ink Challenge: vengeance or justice or whatever

I had so much fun last week that I signed up for the Indie Ink Writing Challenges again.  This week I challenged Flaming NYX (whose response is here) and my challenge - Write about a time in your life when you were wronged and justice was not served (can be fiction or nonfiction) - came from Dafeenah.  This is a fictional character and her world that I've been slowly building as I try to figure out exactly what's going on with her and her story to tell.  Figured I could use it for this week's prompt.

---

I was awoken with a hard shove and my brother hovering over me as he grinned down at me and said, "Morning Cady."

"Oh my god.  Are you a farmer?" I groaned, throwing my blanket over my head.  

The hint was lost on Sean, who laughed as he pulled my blanket away and said, "It's nearly eight and you've got things to do."

"I'm not doing anything.  I'm going to curl up in a ball and wait for the humiliation of last night to pass."

"So, I'll see you again in ten years?"

I glared at him as I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest.  "Maybe if you'd let me-"

"-You know the rules, kiddo.  You don't use your abilities to harm innocent people."  Before I could protest and explain exactly how not innocent Lucian Devane was, my brother held up his hand and said, "Breakfast and then school work."

"You're on my list."

"Considering how long that list is after all these years, I'm not too worried," he said with a pat on the head.  Yeah, if he couldn't kick my ass in less time than it would take for me to even make a move, I would totally kill him.  

I stood up, stretched out, and pulled the shade of my room open.  The sunlight filtered into the room from the alley between my building and another and as I opened the window, glancing in both directions and looking for anyone suspicious wandering around on the streets, the city's familiar noises inundated me.  There was something comforting in the sounds of the city - I felt safe.  Well, as safe as someone like I could, considering the trendy thing as of late was attempts on my life.

I picked up my phone, deleted the texts from Lucian without looking, and made my way down the short hall to what passed for our kitchen, living room, and library.  I licked my lips as I inhaled the smell of bacon and hurried to the table.  My brother could be a hard ass about trying to maintain some semblance of normal in our life.  Usually, it drove me nuts.  We weren't normal - or I wasn't and he was guilty by association - and I saw no need to pretend.  It wasn't like I was going to live a long life with a husband and the two-point-five kiddies . 

But, even though I would swallow a bullet before admitting it, I looked forward to the fact that my brother and I usually ate at least one meal together.  We could be in the middle of a debacle of epic proportions, but we would find time to just sit, eat, and talk.  He told me it kept us from forgetting why we were doing all of this.  And while I rarely bought into the yay-world Kool-Aide, I liked spending a few quiet moments with my brother where the topic of discussion wasn't the end of the world or our impending demise.

I shoved a piece of bacon into my mouth, grimaced and nearly spit it out, "Is this fake bacon?"

"Tofurkey bacon strips."

"I used to love you," I said, plopping down into my chair dramatically.

"It's better for you."

"Dude, you woke me up after the worst night of my life--"

"--that's a bit of an exaggeration considering I've witnessed much worse."

I picked up another strip of vegetarian devil food and pointed it in my brother's direction.  I said, "That's different.  It doesn't count when you're not sure you'll survive the night - you let things slide."

"I thought it was sweet."

"That's because you're a sap."

"Cady, Lucian likes you.  There is nothing wrong with that."

"He sang a song to me in front of a crowded bar.  A really bad song.  A Barry Manilow song."

"You inspire greatness," Sean replied with a laugh.

I glared at him and said, "Maybe if we were like, fifty, that might be sweet, but I'm seventeen.  I don't want a guy to serenade me with an easy listening, cheesy ballad and definitely not in a room full of people.   I have a reputation to uphold."

"A legend in your own mind."

"Seriously, you are on my list."

Sean  shook his head and stared at me until I met his gaze before he replied, "I know you don't trust people easily and with good reason, but Lucian seems harmless and it might be good for you to socialize with someone your own age."

"He wears pleather pants and furry coats.  If that's not a sign of evil, I don't know what is."

"Do yourself a favor.  Let this go and put the guy out of his misery.  He looked devastated when you ignored him for the remainder of the evening."

"That could've been solved if you let me punch him in the face."

"No."

"Maybe a one-way ticket to ancient Roman times?"

"You don't use..."

"...use my abilities on the innocent, blah, blah, blah.  I maintain that Lucian is not innocent.  He offended me."

"Cady."

"Go ahead and tell me that I'm ridiculous, but you weren't the one who had a billion eyes fixated on her as some dooface in bedazzled sunglasses sang her 'Can't Smile Without You.'  It wasn't even in tune."

My brother dropped his napkin on the table, folded his arms, and gave me the look that said I was being a brat and needed to shape up.  Looks like that never boded well, usually ending with me in the gym for hours on end as he grilled me on my fighting moves.  "What the hell are we doing all this for if you're never gonna let yourself have a life?"

"Not this again.  I don't have enough caffeine in my system for this talk.  I didn't know you were so Team Lucian."

"I don't give a crap about Lucian.  This is about you and how you create situations where nothing pleases you and no one can get in.  It's your way of protecting yourself, and I get it, but I don't like it."

I rolled my eyes and huffed hard enough to blow the bangs up on my forehead.  "I want justice."

"For bad karaoke?"

"My life in general, but I guess Lucian's sad attempts at singing are a good place to start.  You know I can't go back in there, right?  Like ever again?"

"Too bad you work there."

"Clyde will never let me hear the end of this."

Sean stood up and kissed the top of my head.  "You'll survive.  You always do."

"Can I at least egg Lucian's car?"

"No."

"Spit in his drinks?"

"Gross."

"Make him watch a day's worth of MTV reality TV shows?"

Sean laughed.  "Sure.  Vengeance will be yours."

"Okay then.  I guess I can muster up the good will to forgive Lucian.  I'll text him later and as long as there is no more singing, I'll tolerate his existence."

"That's very magnanimous of you.  Now finish up your breakfast and try to stay out of trouble while I work today."

I nodded and watched my brother gather his wallet and coat and head to the door.  He did a quick sweep of the hallway before turning back to me and motioning to the locks, like I didn't know the drill after all these years.  I nodded again, otherwise we'd be there all day, and he shot me a quick wave before shutting the door behind him. 

I grabbed another piece of not-quite-bacon and walked the short distance to lock up the door, my mind wandering to thoughts of Lucian, his insane wardrobe and bad singing.  I wanted to hate him for it.   A part of me did - I was not a girl who liked to stand out in a crowd - but this sick girly part of me was almost fond of him for his inane bravery.  It wasn't every guy that was willing to humiliate himself for a girl he barely knew.  

He was still going to pay.  

And it gave me an excuse to watch the 16 and Pregnant marathon without having to worry about my own broken psyche.  Win-win, really.