Of all the Gin Joints in all the World
Sleeping Through all our Memories.
Sitting in complete darkness in a stranger's bathroom. Nice one, Alice.
'Alice! I'm going to give you three seconds. One,' he began.
'Two...!'
I got up and opened the door, stomping over and sitting on the bed theatrically.
'I don't even know your last name!'
'Wentz,' he said, sitting on an opposing chair.
I froze. 'Wentz?' I repeated. 'Peter Wentz?! You jerk! You asswipe!' I shouted, horrified.
'What?' he asked, confused.
'I'm Alice Wilson!'
'No way. My God, I slept with you!?' he exclaimed.
Peter Wentz. I knew he looked familiar. That asshole made my teenage life a living hell. My father owned a company, but he had a partner. The company partner was Wentz's father.
He came over regularly to discuss things, sometimes for dinner.
Peter came the first time thinking if I was a girl he could score with me, adding to the endless list of others.
'I don't like you, I hate you! I didn't know whether I was happy or sad when my father's business fell apart.'
'Peter Wentz. Unbelievable! And I didn't start it, you did. Remember the first time you came over and I turned you down so you put salt in my coffee instead of sugar?' My voice turned light at the memory.
He laughed. 'Oh yeah! And the time you came to my house for dinner and put saran wrap on my toilet seat in my ensuite bathroom!'
'God, we were mean!' I laughed.
I sighed, smile fading, and looked up at him.
'When do you think the storm will be over?' I asked.
'I dunno. I didn't even know it was coming.' He shrugged, as if it didn't matter I was stuck here until then.
'The electricity should be back on sometime soon. Maybe a few hours.' I was hoping. A vain hope that saying the words aloud would make them true.
I could see him study my profile, even though I was staring out the window. I let him. 'Why was I ever mean to you?' he asked, not me but himself.
I answered him anyway. 'I don't know. I guess it was me aswell, I didn't like you straight away. Maybe you were responding to that. Even in my school I had heard of "Peter the Cheater". God, I hated you before I knew you. Still the same, I assume?' I asked, confident he would say yes.
He hesitated, face blank. But his eyes were sad. Then he broke into a wide smile. 'I keep my reputation, yes.' His eyes didn't change.
'And not once you feel remorse for any of the girls?'
He paused again. 'No. I'm alone now, anyway,' he said, looking at his shoes.
'Do you like your lifestyle?' I asked sympathetically.
He took a deep breath. 'I don't know. My friends, they think I'm the man, you know? But those girls, they don't care either way. I dump them but they're cheating on me too. They aren't looking for a relationship, just a night. Knockin' boots, you know?'
'Yeah. I know.'
'What do you even care? You hate me.' His voice wasn't filled with the venom I expected.
'Yeah. I guess I did.' I realized that I felt for him, he didn't really have anyone. He says he's alone now, but he's always alone.
It was quiet after that, as the sky darkened and the rain wore off. We didn't really move from our positions, and the electricity came back at about 2 in the morning.
'I'm gonna get going,' I told him, dressed in my rightful clothes now.
'Do you...' he began, pausing, 'Do you have to go?'
I looked back at him, he was standing now, leaning against the arm of the chair.
'I have a boyfriend,' I told him. I thought I knew what those girls felt, but Peter Wentz doesn't go out with people like me.
'Oh,' he said, his eyes clearly displaying his disappointment.
He glanced down then back up, our eyes met.
I don't know how, a rush of passion, fire in our eyes. Maybe our hostile feelings were so strong that when they disolved it formed into another emotion, like energy. It just can't be destroyed, or created. It's always there.
My fingers were in his hair, brushing it out of his eyes, our lips locked. I felt him run his hands down my back, then rested them on my waist, sliding one down again to my thigh and pulling it up. He backed me into the wall, kissing down my neck.
Soon we were back where we started, and I woke up confused once again.
I moaned as I fell back onto the pillow, seeing where I was. Again.
'Aw, crap.'
'Alice! I'm going to give you three seconds. One,' he began.
'Two...!'
I got up and opened the door, stomping over and sitting on the bed theatrically.
'I don't even know your last name!'
'Wentz,' he said, sitting on an opposing chair.
I froze. 'Wentz?' I repeated. 'Peter Wentz?! You jerk! You asswipe!' I shouted, horrified.
'What?' he asked, confused.
'I'm Alice Wilson!'
'No way. My God, I slept with you!?' he exclaimed.
Peter Wentz. I knew he looked familiar. That asshole made my teenage life a living hell. My father owned a company, but he had a partner. The company partner was Wentz's father.
He came over regularly to discuss things, sometimes for dinner.
Peter came the first time thinking if I was a girl he could score with me, adding to the endless list of others.
'I don't like you, I hate you! I didn't know whether I was happy or sad when my father's business fell apart.'
'Peter Wentz. Unbelievable! And I didn't start it, you did. Remember the first time you came over and I turned you down so you put salt in my coffee instead of sugar?' My voice turned light at the memory.
He laughed. 'Oh yeah! And the time you came to my house for dinner and put saran wrap on my toilet seat in my ensuite bathroom!'
'God, we were mean!' I laughed.
I sighed, smile fading, and looked up at him.
'When do you think the storm will be over?' I asked.
'I dunno. I didn't even know it was coming.' He shrugged, as if it didn't matter I was stuck here until then.
'The electricity should be back on sometime soon. Maybe a few hours.' I was hoping. A vain hope that saying the words aloud would make them true.
I could see him study my profile, even though I was staring out the window. I let him. 'Why was I ever mean to you?' he asked, not me but himself.
I answered him anyway. 'I don't know. I guess it was me aswell, I didn't like you straight away. Maybe you were responding to that. Even in my school I had heard of "Peter the Cheater". God, I hated you before I knew you. Still the same, I assume?' I asked, confident he would say yes.
He hesitated, face blank. But his eyes were sad. Then he broke into a wide smile. 'I keep my reputation, yes.' His eyes didn't change.
'And not once you feel remorse for any of the girls?'
He paused again. 'No. I'm alone now, anyway,' he said, looking at his shoes.
'Do you like your lifestyle?' I asked sympathetically.
He took a deep breath. 'I don't know. My friends, they think I'm the man, you know? But those girls, they don't care either way. I dump them but they're cheating on me too. They aren't looking for a relationship, just a night. Knockin' boots, you know?'
'Yeah. I know.'
'What do you even care? You hate me.' His voice wasn't filled with the venom I expected.
'Yeah. I guess I did.' I realized that I felt for him, he didn't really have anyone. He says he's alone now, but he's always alone.
It was quiet after that, as the sky darkened and the rain wore off. We didn't really move from our positions, and the electricity came back at about 2 in the morning.
'I'm gonna get going,' I told him, dressed in my rightful clothes now.
'Do you...' he began, pausing, 'Do you have to go?'
I looked back at him, he was standing now, leaning against the arm of the chair.
'I have a boyfriend,' I told him. I thought I knew what those girls felt, but Peter Wentz doesn't go out with people like me.
'Oh,' he said, his eyes clearly displaying his disappointment.
He glanced down then back up, our eyes met.
I don't know how, a rush of passion, fire in our eyes. Maybe our hostile feelings were so strong that when they disolved it formed into another emotion, like energy. It just can't be destroyed, or created. It's always there.
My fingers were in his hair, brushing it out of his eyes, our lips locked. I felt him run his hands down my back, then rested them on my waist, sliding one down again to my thigh and pulling it up. He backed me into the wall, kissing down my neck.
Soon we were back where we started, and I woke up confused once again.
I moaned as I fell back onto the pillow, seeing where I was. Again.
'Aw, crap.'