Sequel: Pretty Bird

People Got A Lotta Nerve

Ok I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Dont; Brand New

You would be surprised just how much entertainment some people can get from watching complete and utter destruction-all in the name of biology, of course! I mean, I was surprised, especially since I turned out to be one of those kinds of people. Apparently, the shark documentary I had started watching with all the boys was involved in some kind of Discovery Channel theme, called Shark Week…where shark related, bloody television was played nonstop, with limited commercial breaks, for 7 whole days. The show we were watching, the typical ‘Great White tries to devour some insane biologists in a metal shark cage in the ocean” had been playing since 10 in the morning, so by the time I got there at 1pm, it was no surprise that all the boys’ eyes were glazed over, with mine soon to follow.

Oliver had stepped out of the bathroom, his hair too heavy with the water to wave slightly around his face like it normally did when it wasn’t straightened. He had cleverly brought his jeans into the bathroom with him, so he wouldn’t have to parade around in just a towel in front of his friends. If only I had been so intelligent this morning, I wouldn’t have exposed myself to Oliver and his stupid “My eyes are closed!” lie.

I don’t think he had noticed I was there, seeing as he jumped when I spoke.

“How do you even fit those on after a shower?” It was a commercial; it was really the only reason I noticed him walk in.

“Uhm, what?” He asked, trying to play it cool even though we all saw him jump and fix his wide eyes on mine. Curtis and I had moved from leaning against the walls to now sitting on the floor, our backs leaning against the bed.

“Doesn’t that ever happen to you all?” I asked, looking around at all of the faces, slightly smiling at me. “Whenever I get out of the shower, my skinnies are almost impossible to get on.”

Matt (the loud one) laughed, his round face creasing into shallow laugh lines. “Honey, maybe you need to buy bigger jeans.”

I wasn’t really sure if I should laugh it off, or just be offended. I just kind of sat there, staring at him, and then lowered my eyes slowly to the ground. Suddenly, before I could register what had just happened, I heard a cry of pain and the quick swooshes of jeans flying through the air. Unfortunately by the time I had looked up, I had missed all of the action. All I saw was Matt, cowering in the chair with Lee’s dirty sock being whipped in his face over and over, Oliver standing over him, doing the beating. Curtis and Lee were laughing hysterically, and I’m pretty sure silent Matt was asleep, even though I don’t understand how someone could sleep through shark week or a sock beating.

“Alright, alright, sorry!” Matt managed to exclaim in between beatings. Oliver had stopped hitting him in anger, and was now just lightly whipping the dirty sock in his face out of pure amusement.

“Hit him again, Oli!” Lee cheered on, nudging Curtis in the shoulder and laughed. I wasn’t really sure how to respond, other than watching in half amusement, half confusion. By the time Oliver had relented on hitting Matt, I had just accepted it and was cheering and laughing alongside Lee and Curtis, deciding that if everyone else was so used to this weird behavior, there was nothing to be confused about. I mean, I may be 20, but I never really spent too much time around boys. I was friends with all boys in like, 5th grade, but once high school hit and my anxiety began to take root, I wasn’t really friends with anyone, especially as far as dating or whatever went.

“Say it, Matt.” Oliver said as he exhaled, the whipping clearly taking some air out of him.

Matt rolled his eyes, and smiled at me. “Sorry, didn’t mean to call you fat.”

“No worries.” I smiled back, bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around my knees. It was a comfort position.

Oliver smiled, looking like he had accomplished something. I smiled back, and Curtis beat the ground with his hand in between him and me, signaling Oliver to sit in between us. Oliver obliged Curtis, and somehow his arm found its way across my shoulders, pulling me into his body, giving me an up close look at the tattoos on his exposed chest. It was weird, normally in a situation like this, with so many new faces (especially boys!) around me, and with some hot rock star putting the moves on me, I would freeze and turn into a complete dead fish. This time, however, I never felt the suffocating sensation of my nerves creeping up my spine. For one of the few times in my life, I was able to relax, curl my body into Oliver’s, and resume focusing my attention onto Shark Week. I even ignored the stares Oliver and I were receiving from his band mates. They were all glancing down at us and smiling at each other, their eyes talking even though their mouths were closed. It was peaceful, and I was peaceful, watching the sharks fulfill their roles in the circle of life as I resting my head in the crook of Oliver’s shoulder, right above an involuntarily flexing muscle.

---

“I honestly haven’t seen Jamie since he left the show with his bird…” Curtis said, his voice breaking the silence that had situated itself in the middle of the dinner table I was sitting at, along with all of the boys.

“Emma.” I added, making fingerprints on the side of my water glass using the condensation. It was some habit I picked up a while ago that allowed me to not have to look directly at someone if I was talking to them in a social setting like a dinner. It made me look busy, and busy meant no anxiety. In my head, I was counting backwards from 10 over and over again.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...10, 9, 8-7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

Good Christian was good at keeping count, even though the rest of my mental capacities were in shambles. Here I was, sitting in Vegas, in a dirty dress and borrowed flip flops, my hair blowing wildly in the desert winds, wayfarers Oliver had lent me perched on my nose. Under the table, my right leg was crossed over my left, leaning my body towards Oliver, who was absent mindedly tapping on the side of the table with his index fingers. Luckily, the sunglasses allowed me to study him without him noticing, especially if my body was shifted towards his already. Lee sat to my right, silent Matt next to him. Curtis was sitting next to silent Matt, and loud Matt was sitting next to Curtis, and next to Oliver. The circular table we were sitting at was outside in front of the Venetian Hotel, which was right across the street from Treasure Island. However, we had spent the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening searching for Emma and Jamie. The sun was just beginning to set when we had decided to give up and find food, loud Matt complaining loudly the whole time about how famished he was.

While I had ordered a glass of water and some pasta that the server had reccomended, I was not in any mood to eat. All I could think about was Emma’s well being. I knew she trusted this guy, probably too much. I mean, she was claiming he was her soulmate after only a few days! And of course, Emma is so naïve, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had managed to get herself hurt all because of this random stranger.

“Christian…” Oliver’s voice invaded my consciousness. “Don’t worry, itll be okay. We will find them.”

I nodded and smiled back at Oliver, but he didn’t seem satisfied. He returned a smile back at me, and he smoothly let his right hand stop tapping on the table and fall down below next to mine. Before I could register what he wanted to do, his hand gripped mine and squeezed tight, his fingers enveloping my tiny hands.

It felt right. I felt an instant wave of comfort fall over me, with every tiny squeeze he gave my hand. I thanked my lucky stars that my hands wernt shaking, partially from nervousness and from the foreign feeling of human contact. I smiled again at him, my wayfarers slipping down my nose and resting further down my nosebridge, my eyes clearly visible now.

This smile must have been more convincing, because Oliver quietly laughed, and used his free hand to slide the sunglasses back up my nose. He smiled, before his fingers gently tapped the palm of my hand twice. “That’s better.” He smiled again, this time nice and big.

“Sweet Jesus, yeh lovebirds!” Matt teased, balling up his napkin and throwing it in our direction. “Get a room, yeah?!”

Unfortunately, the napkin missed us completely, and landed in Lee’s water glass.

“What the fuck, Matt! Why are yeh throwing so much shit at me today!” Lee yelled, fishing the wet napkin out of his water and hurling it back at Matt.

Curtis laughed, unintentionally egging Lee and Matt on, for the second time today.

“If I get wet,” I said, my eyes narrowing behind my sunglasses. “I will kill you both!”

Matt’s eyes widened, and he let the wet napkin fall to the floor to his left side, in between him and Curtis. “Alright, alright…”

“You got her mad.” Curtis laughed, punching Matt in the shoulder.

“Yeh think so?” Lee laughed, rolling his eyes at Curtis before taking a drink of his water. “Tastes like paper now…”

“How the hell could water taste like paper?!” Oliver asked, his lips curving up into a smile again.

Lee shrugged, and handed Oliver the glass of water. Oliver unlaced his hand from mine to receive it, and took a drink.

“….Thats fucking weird!”

“Let me taste it!” Curtis asked, reaching across the table to take the water from Oliver. “Woah!”

“Guys….please don’t make a scene and get us kicked out.” I pleaded, slouching back into my chair. Silent Matt gave me a knowing glance, and smiled slightly. This was the most interaction he had had with me all day. I smiled back, and re-engaged back in the conversation the rest of the boys were having, something about paper and water both being tasteless and how science creates the most random phenomenons. While I would normally be the first one to point out that science can do way more things than give water a weird taste, I refrained, letting them have their fun. Besides, all these yorkshire accents in one concentrated place was really entertaining, and surprisingly informational. In fact, I was almost beginning to understand the majority of the things they were saying!

----

By the time we were done eating and everyone was full and content, I still had no word from Emma. I had been checking my phone constantly, for a text or a call, but all I had received was something from Oliver during dinner, when he sent me another text assuring me everything would be fine. I replied back with a smiley and a thanks, but it didn’t do as much to calm my nerves as his hand holding mine did.

Finally, around 11, I got a call from Emma.

“Hey girl!”

“Are you seriously going to just be like ‘hey girl’, to me!? I havent heard from you in over 24 hours!!” I screamed, the boys staring at me wide eyes before casting their eyes down and stuffing their hands in their pockets. They all stepped away from me, except for Oliver, whose eyes hadnt left mine, even if they were peering out at me from under his fringe.

“Christian? Why are you mad?” Emma stammered, her cheery tone quickly dissapearing.

“I havent heard from you in over a day, Emma! And I have no idea where you are! I am essentially stuck in Vegas!”

“No worries, we havent left Vegas yet.”

“We?!”

“I…havent left Vegas yet…”

“Are you with Jamie right now?” I screeched again, my hand that wasn’t holding my phone clenching into a fist. I heard the noise of a coughing man on the other line.

“Yeah…”

“You are un-fucking-believeable…” I let the tone in my voice drop from angry screeches to a low, angry menacing whisper.

“Chrissy! Calm down! You should be happy!” Emma squeaked out, noticing the change in my voice and bracing for impact. She knew what I did when I got mad.

“Why the fuck should I be happy! You ditched me for some random guy!”

“Chrissy….Jamie and I got married…He’s my husband.”