Death Is Never Permanent

My mother left (in order arrive back to the hotel she was staying at ) soon after I “agreed” to her offer in staying with my family for a while. More like I was forced into it…

She made me walk her out of my apartment and the building because she was “scared” of the surroundings and didn't want to be “attacked” in all her fancy, slutty clothed glory. I honestly didn’t even find this strange, I saw it coming and so when she grabbed me I was prepared and just went. Why use up energy when you don’t need to? That is my philosophy.

However on the barely 2 minutes walking distance (which in this/our case took 7) she didn't even try to hold back in criticizing my every action. How I walked, my clothes, my hair, Lucas... everything seemed to be touched on and covered once we were alone. She made her opinions known before moving on to the next subject, not allowing for me to try to say a word. And so I obviously didn’t; only bit my tongue and prayed that she would leave (or burn in hell you can choose, whichever is more appealing to you).

She even called me a 'whore' and went so far as to even accuse me of selling myself. That in itself was the true reason she thought I was all beat up and bruised. That really got to me,angered infuriated me. How dare she! It was like a slap to the face, literally- since she did slap me once again while waiting for the taxi. That was the second time in a day, not a record but it was highly demeaning and depressing.

When she was gone, I paced a moment back and forth on the grey concrete sidewalk before I eventually ran crazily back upstairs, trying to blow off steam in the process so I wouldn't do anything stupid. As we all know I am highly capable of doing if I wanted. The past shows that.

I slammed the door after walking back inside; and the talking (arguing) immediately stopped.

“You are going to make my go, live with that... That BITCH?!” I screamed, stepping into the entrance of the kitchen while feeling a liquid slightly run down my face from where her rings dug into my cheek. The rings hadn’t scratched me or cut me, they merely opened one of the scabbed over cuts as they scraped across the skin on my cheek; and that caused a gushing of blood naturally.

Lucas knew as did Jeffie that she hit me but did Jeffie care? I mean, sure he is only a PO but come on? Isn’t that still considered child abuse? And he is making me go live with her!?

Lucas meanwhile slowly came over to me with a paper towel and began to dab at my face. I pushed him away at the sting of water directly on the cut yet he grabbed my waist tightly and brought me to him, holding me still before gently resuming in dabbing the cut.

I blushed remembering that I kissed Lucaswillingly only a few minutes before. He cupped my chin and lifted it to the side so he could see the cut better in the light before running his thumb across, dabbing some more and blowing on my cheek sending shivers down my spine. I swear he did that only to see my reaction but it did stop bleeding. Luckily, I was about to burst- I wasn’t a fan of his touching me still.

“Fine, look. We need to get something else worked out. You go to your aunt's thing with your mom and then when you get back we'll talk. However, don't think you’re leaving means you can act any differently. No drinking, smoking, fighting, doing drugs, hurting anyone... and you...” he pointed to Lucas “will make sure she doesn't, got it?” We both nodded as he turned towards the door himself. “I expect a call twice a day. Once in the morning once in the evening and I will be calling randomly throughout the time you are away. You will pick up or you are going to prison again. Doesn't matter if its 3am or noon...if you're in the middle of dinner or taking a shower...you will answer. Understand?” I nodded. Awkwardness was about to take over my life I could tell.

Jeffie shook Lucas's hand; he nodded at me and swiftly left with his briefcase swaying back and forth with his retreating steps. After Jeffie turned and started down the steps I shut the door. In a daze I stood with my back flush against the closed door before sighing and sliding down it to the floor. Did this really just happen?

Lucas came over, locked the door and picked me up into his arms.
His all of a sudden being nice really was starting to worry me; what is he up to?

“Where's your room?” I pointed our way through the kitchen, down the hall and to the right. He dropped me on the mattress, making me bounce upwards a bit after before crashing down onto it next to me with a groan.

“You have no idea what you just got yourself into...” I said like a zombie would. No emotion behind the words at all. Just staring at the ceiling, looking blankly at it expecting it to almost move; but I knew it wasn’t going anywhere.

“I think I actually just figured that out.” he joked.

“1 whole week with my mother... 7 longgggg fucking days.” I said in the same way as before, pretty sure in some way a panic attack was trying to take me over; almost- (just almost) did I start hyperventilating inside while my heart raced and my mind went a mile a minute with possibilities.

“Are you okay?” He looked down at me as he was leaning up on his elbows some. I snapped out of my awkward daze and turned onto my stomach burying my face into the bunched up, baby soft blanket I had underneath my upper body.

“You are going to regret it.” I mumbled but it was muffled. He brought his face down close to mine and moved the hair and blanket away to hear me repeat what was said before. “…You will regret it!” I snapped.

“Naw. I don't think so” I felt my hair move again as he bunched it up in his hand to find another of my “secret” tattoos. Although none were very “secret” at all (you could see them if you looked), they weren't really in any hidden places. I flipped over quickly at the tickling sensation of my hair brushing against the back of my neck; I tried to before he got a really good look at the artwork there though. “Humm?” His eyebrows raised and that evil smirk came out again. He started tickling me and I screamed in laughter.

“STOP! Lucas stop, please just- AHH STOP.” I rolled off the mattress away from him completely.

“Hey, you seen all of my tattoos...can't I see yours?” His face turning into a pout of some sort.

“What so damn important about seeing them?” I asked hands crossed in front of my body. He shrugged and gave that “pout” again. It just wasn’t really working with me… pouting guys…

“Just wondering...” There was silence for a minute or so until for some reason I gave in to his begging face. Fuck.

“Fine!” I huffed and turned, lifting up my hair to show him the bleeding/crumbling brass knuckles. It has cut out stars and a few hearts inside the picture of the brass knuckle and under was where the missing pieces were, like they were dripping sort of like blood in a much more appealing way I guess. My number was mixed in too at random places mixed in with the missing, cut out shapes. The numbers all in backwards order is 7023035, but if read form right to left it would give you get 5303207, the real number. You just have to do a little work to find the numbers. I don't know why I put it into the design exactly but I couldn't change it now and it worked out alright. So far. “It was the third one I got.”

“You already said the roses weren’t first? So what did you get to erase your tattoo virginity?” He grabbed my hips lightly from behind me as his chin rested on my shoulder. I turned once again and put my wrist in his face waving it closely, up and down and all around crazily. He dropped his arms and reached for my wrist, capturing it and holding it in one hand so I had to be still. It said 'Hate Your Enemies' in cursive Spanish writing. “I can’t read that....” He laughed after realizing he hadn't a clue as to what it said; and it’s a secret he won’t ever know. I’m not going to tell him.

Then the door opened and slammed shut.

“BLAIRE!” I heard yelled from the entry. I pushed Lucas away and walked out seething, remembering how pissed I was at Shimmy for leaving me alone, drunk at the club last night. I went straight at him and slapped him as hard as I could. My hand fucking STINGS!

Lucas' soft, muffled laughing was the only noise present in the room while Shimmy held his face in pain. I swear I caused more to myself than him though. Geeze! I refrained from bending over, cradling my hand to my stomach and instead decided to distract myself in another way. Ranting-

“Where the fuck did you go?! You just left me there all alone! Did you even care what happened? I could be dead in a ditch somewhere right now but would you even fucking care!? No! Because you just left, nowhere to be found doing God only knows what!” I screamed all in one breath; I stopped and gasped breathing in and out deeply trying to make my lungs work properly again.

“I'm sorry! I asked Jermine and Jasey to watch you. It’s their fault, not mine that you fucking disappeared!”

“Hey, she didn't disappear! She got into a fight and being that she was piss drunk she couldn't fight back, all she did was get fucking hurt! And it is your fucking fault! Why the hell would you even think to leave her there as drunk as she was?!” Lucas yelled.

“Why do you even care, you are such a fucking asshole to her and everyone else for that matter!” Lucas began walking the extremely short distance towards Shimmy before punching him dead in the center of his cheek. Ow.

“Stop it!” I pulled on Lucas' shirt and pushed him back away from Shimmy.

“I had to do it.” Shimmy said stressing the word ‘it’...it as in race. I knew that is what he had to mean since he was looking dead straight into my eyes as he said that.

Lucas however didn't know a thing about Shimmy’s racing and I don't think Shimmy wanted him to figure it out and/or find out either. So I stayed quiet and didn’t bring it back up, I just let it go, forgiving him as I thought about what would happen if I were in his situation instead.

“It? What the fuck does it have anything to do with you letting her alone at the club?!” Lucas screamed again

“Please, can we stop yelling!” I was being hypocritical screaming even louder over top their bickering just in hopes of shutting them both up “My headache… is coming back...” I groaned.

“Just calm down. I'm going to go make food...what do you want?” I asked mostly myself, just putting it out there though while walking towards the kitchen. I rooted through the fridge to find something to eat. Finding nothing I moved on to the cupboards coming out with basically every ingredient to make a very, very plain version of a sort of make-shift/ my version of paella. As creepy as it is to say this, I was attempting a Valencian form of paella... “Do you like paella?” Turning around I saw both of them sitting at the island on the stools. Shimmy smiling uneasily, most likely hoping I would forgive him and Lucas eying Shimmy up. Not in a sick way, just trying to figure him out... “Do. You...?” I asked again trying to snap their apparent trances.

“I like anything you make...” Shimmy said quickly in a quiet voice that was so unlike his giddy self.

“You cook huh?” I nodded and Lucas scoffed, “Well that's something I wasn't expecting.” He finished by stating the obvious.

“I like cooking; it calms me down in a way...” With that the food was started.

-

(overview)
Meanwhile, as Lucas and Shimmy were keeping an eye on Blaire (having a bit of fun as well.)

Brian was watching over Matt who for some reason unbeknownst to anyone else but the two of them, broke up with Jenna. For the rest of the guys, it came out of nowhere, they were flabbergasted as to why they would just break up the moment Matt got back from his trip. No one knew still, that the two of them went to see Blaire but Brian was convinced (if he even needed to be in this case) that it was because of her that Matt broke up with Jenna. And he wasn’t happy in the least. Brian and Matt got into a huge fight and it blew up so badly that all the guys as well as their girlfriends and other friend of theirs, were split and taking sides.

Either with Matt; or with Brian. The tension was so thick that the two of them wouldn’t speak to one another and when they did… it was usually all physical contact.

In fact at that very moment the two were fighting it out, just like they would at the club. Brian and Matt... Fighting until someone gives up- although each one is stubborn in his own way and wouldn’t dare give in to the other one.

Brian thinks Matt is doing the wrong thing and is stupid to have broken up with Jenna which is arguably true. But then Matt; he thinks Brian hates him and doesn't want him to be happy.

He loves Blaire and Brian keeps telling him he can’t despite him knowing his feelings.

So until someone gave up (which the current rate, isn’t going to happen), it went on. Each ended up in the hospital, literally unconscious and battered; broken into pieces.

But both still thought they were right, and the other “party” was wrong. This fight wasn't over...

Plus another “problem” was that they all were offered teaching positions in other “special” Juvenile Delinquent schools also. So this only fueled both of their fires. If they were to take the position, they would need to move to Orange County, California; closer to Blaire. Much to Matt’s pleasure and Brian’s displeasure.

Brian still thought about taking the job, as did Johnny and Jimmy. They were in need of something to keep them all busy and so it just seemed fit really. They needed to get their minds preoccupied with something besides going to the club at midnight every night. Needed something real to do- and it would get people off their backs because they had a job instead of only leaving at the wee hours of the morning.

Zacky however already had a job that was perfect for him, that he was working already.
Matt wouldn't dare take another position in a place like the one offered him after what happened to Blaire; he just couldn't do it. He knew that the way the new place was run would be much different but every time he thinks about a Juvie of any sort, Blaire comes to his mind and all the horrible things that happened to her while stuck inside one. Yet he still was entirely willing to move if it meant being closer to Blaire and he definitely would be a lot closer than if they stayed in New York. Only minutes compared to many, many hours on plane.

While all this was happening over the past few days, Zacky also came to a stark conclusion in that he realized his love for Blaire was only for her well being. It wasn't real love, love but instead more of a brotherly thing...with a possible, slight sexual attraction. Yet he figured as long as he didn't see her much he could be happy and live life without worries with his new wife-to-be, whom he loved with all his heart.

If things weren't complicated and instead were easy, something would be seriously wrong.