Drumsticks 2.0

Heaven has always loved the head rush you get from lying upside down on the couch. Her feet are planted firmly on the wall while she watches old reruns of Family Matters. The knock on the door is loud in the small room, and she sighs out of laziness at the thought of opening the door. She rolls off the couch and lands on her feet. She does ta-da arms and skips to the door.

She starts, before smiling when she sees who it is. “Kyle Effing Loza!” she calls happily, wrapping him in a hug.

“Hey Heaven,” Kyle grins at her. “I hear you have an advanced issue of Spin. I wanna see it.”

She laughs at her friend and rifles thought her bag until she finds it. Kyle points at the Wentzaids shirt and snickers before he flips it open and skims the article.

“There are some awesome quotes in here,” he says after a minute, “I especially like the Beckett question.”

“No one likes an asshole, Kyle Loza,” she sniffs, but there’s no real heat behind it. “It’s not like I lied.”

“Nope, which just goes to show you exactly how you’re playing the game already.”

“Ew, that’s a terrible point to make.” Her face wrinkles up in distaste as she thinks about it. She plucks the magazine out of his hands and looks him over. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Get pretty,” he says, “we’re going to destroy this town tonight.”

“Oh Kyle Loza, I thought you’d never ask!” she flutters her eyelashes at him. “Wait, do you mean to say I don’t look pretty right this moment?”

“Of course you do,” he says soothingly. “But the eyeliner smeared all over your face isn’t. Or the ketchup on your shirt. You know. If we’re being honest.”

“Heh heh, oops,” she grins sheepishly, “I was eating upside down again.”

“You’re such a freak,” Kyle pats her consolingly. He makes shooing motions at her, and she faux huffs off to the bathroom to fix herself up a little.

“Please tell me you brought a bike,” she calls over her shoulder while she shrugs out of her shirt. She pulls on a silver v-neck, a pair of skinny jeans, tops it with an extra long necklace and does jazz hands at him. She leans over to brush her teeth while he snickers at her.

“Please, like I’d ever try to take you anywhere not on a bike.” He tosses her a leather jacket she hadn’t realized he’d brought in with him. She looks at it for a moment before shrugging it on and grinning.

“Dude, it’s a perfect fit. How is that even possible, I have narrow shoulders and short arms.”

“I had my guy make it special. Happy birthday.”

“Dude, totally not my birthday,” she grins at him from out of her hair. “Okay, I’m ready, let’s go. So, can I drive?”

“See, that’s what I love about you. No muss, no fuss. You look beautiful,” Kyle says with a grin. Heaven pats him on the shoulder and laughs.

“Why thank you handsome, but I know you’re just trying to distract me. If I find the bike first I’m driving.”

“Like hell you are!” Kyle protests. They both struggle to get out the door at the same time, and sprint for the elevators.

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“Oh come on Kyle,” Heaven whines, “my driving wasn’t that bad!”

“You almost killed us!” he drags a hand through his hair and glares at her.

“No I didn’t,” she denies hotly, and crosses her arms over her chest. “Just because we popped that curb doesn’t mean we were anywhere near hitting that tree.”

“You’re not driving again,” he deadpans. Heaven pouts in her helmet.

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When they get to the club cameras start flashing, and people are yelling at Kyle for attention. Heaven tries to hide her face as good as she can, but people are starting to notice that she’s with him. He ushers them inside as fast as he can, and they find an empty booth and collapse.

“Dude,” she moans, “what the hell. You didn’t tell me there would be crazy people with cameras.”

“There are always crazy people with cameras,” Kyle says wisely. He nods for emphasis. “Come on, let’s dance.” Kyle pulls her toward the center of the floor, and she whines in the back of her throat.

“I’m a terrible dancer. Like Patrick in Dance Dance. You should get me a drink first.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kyle says in amuesment. Heaven snorts in the back of her throat. “You’re a dirty liar, Kyle Loza.”

“One drink,” Kyle says, “because Tarra is scary, and I don’t want you falling off the bike.”

“I’ll take it,” Heaven nods enthusiastically. “So, what are my chances of getting the Macarena played?”

“Nil,” Kyle pokes her in the side, “no one macarenas anymore.”

“The world is lame,” she says unhappily, whips out her fake id, and orders a shot of Jack. She tips in back, smacks her lips, and smiles. “Okay, let’s go embarrass me.”

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They move on to the second club at eleven, with the paparazzi close behind them. Kyle had recently one X-Games, which made him newsworthy. Especially since he was never seen out with girls.
While they stand in line to get in, Heaven points at a kid arguing with the doorman.
“Hey, that’s Adam Sevani! He’s adorable.”

“Don’t feed the natives,” Kyle warns quietly, mouth tucked into her ear. Finally Adam huffs and starts to walk away. Heaven licks her lips.

“Psst, Adam Sevani!” she hisses. Kyle huffs and elbows her. Adam looks at her like she’s crazy, and she smiles. “You’re not going in?”

“I’m sixteen, so they won’t let me in,” Adam shoots the doorman a dirty look. “I just want to dance with the Jabbawockies.”

“That’s sad,” Heaven shakes her head. “Dude, meet me in back, I’ll totally sneak you in.”

The back door is actually guarded, but Heaven pulls him in through the girl’s bathroom window. He takes off for the dance floor as soon as he gets there. Kyle manages to pull her onto the floor by Adam and the Jabbawockies. She tried to tell him that it was a terrible idea, but he just buys her another shot, and tugs her into submission.

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She’s not drunk, she swears, but she is giggly, and Kyle is making a good leaning post at the moment. He leads her outside, and the flash of the lights are instantaneous. She’s laughing before she even realizes it. She leans close to one and blinks wide and innocent. “Dude. Dude,“ she says, “I broke the Jabbawockies.” And sure enough, the dance troop comes stumbling out, half carrying two of their members. She laughs even harder.

Kyle’s got one hand in her back pocket, and the other one is holding her hand. He’s just smiling and ushering them through the mess.

The problem starts when someone calls her name, and she swings around to focus on them. Smiling she signs an autograph, and then it’s a race for every person to find out who she is, and what she does.

Although, really, the problem starts the next day when TMZ shows a video of her and Kyle getting on his bike. One of the papparazzi asks, “Who are you to Kyle Loza?”

She rubs her nose in the back of his neck, and says, “What are we Kyle Loza?” Kyle huffs a laugh and shrugs, looking at the camera, “I dunno. We’re whatever you think we are.”

Heaven laughs even harder. “You hear that? We’re whatever the hell you say we are.” And then Kyle kicks the bike into motion, and they’re gone.

Tarra is sitting in Pete’s living room with him, Cristi, Keri, and William when they show it. William slams out of the room, and Tarra blinks at the tv for a moment. “Well huh,” she deadpans. The others nod their agreement.