Love Has Second Chances

"George... George... George..." The voice sounded lucid against my mind. It was vaugely familar. "George. George, get your fat ass up NOW." Then I realized: it was Jay.

"I'm up, I'm up. We in Arizona?"

"In the boudaries. Now get your stuff: we're jumping off."

"Oka-WHAT?!" Did I just here him say we were JUMPING? Oh hell no, that was NOT a part of the plan.

"Well, yeah, it's not like we can walk off and say 'Hey, thanks for the ride', can we?"

Damn. I've been had. "You are such a fag."

"We all fags from L.A., bitch. NOW GET YO FAT ASS UP BEORE I SHOVE SOMETHING UP IT."

"Ooooo, kinky."

"Ugggg, just get up and get your stuff," Jay said, obviously agitated.

"Fine." I got up and gathered anything nessasary up into my pack: clothes, my walkie talkie, and five water bottles. We were in Arizona, afterall. I also had a Subway sandwhich(half-eaten. God, I love Subway.) and a few bags of chips. Anything else I just left: it wasn't like they were gonna clean the section out. I think.

"Got everything?" I heard Jay ask.

"Just about..." I responded. There was one last thing: my bejeweled butterfly. I didn't go anywhere without it, and it was pretty much a good luck charm. I bought it at a fair in Europe the first time we went as a band. I saw it and I was in love. It had blue, red, green, yellow, purple, orange, and even black stones set in it. Even though the stones were probaly fake, it was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Well, one of the most beautiful things.

"Alright, I'm ready," I said, putting the palm-sized butterfly in my bag. I put it in the front conpartment, to minimize the fact it might break or fall apart.

"Good. You ready to jump?"

"Not really. But, if we must..."

"We must," Jay responded.

"All right, let's jump then!" I said with faked enthusiasim.

Jorel sighed. "The train is slowing down faster, so we have to hurry. With the speed were going, it won't hurt so much to jump."

"Let's crack this baby open!"

"Here we go!" Jay reached out his hand and grabbed the door. He pulled with all his strength, and finally, it gave way.

"It's not even morning yet," I declared when the door was finally open.

"It's 6:00, dude. It's morning," Jay said.

"Let's jump!" I shouted, ignoring Jay's statement.

"On the count of three!"

"Let's hold hands," I suggested randomly.

"Why?"

"So we don't get separated."

Jay held out his hand. Hold it then, pussy! the gesture said loud and clear.

I grabbed his hand anyway. "On three."

We were silent for a second.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

"THREE!"

And we jumped, hitting the Arizona dirt with a sickening thud.