Vices, Virtues, and Second-Hand Smoke

Unexpected Visitors

"You did what?"

Kris winced at the decidedly piercing sound of her best friend screeching over the news of her latest escapade. "It's six thirty in the morning, Janelle. A little bit early for a wake up call, don't you think?"

Janelle laughed, then groaned. Taking a sip of her coffee, she laid her head gently down on the table. "Good Lord, I hate hangovers." When Kris laughed, Janelle shot her a dirty look and scowled. "Don't give me that look, I know you had some heavy drinking going on last night, too. How many did it take to make you think that Shanks was anything other than a skeeze? You hate him."

Kris shrugged and took a gulp of her orange juice. After she'd woken up, she'd fixed her clothes and left the room without even stopping to check if Shanks was still in the bed; it wasn't like she'd cared at all, and if he was as good as his reputation-- and he hadn't disappointed up until then-- he wasn't going to be there, anyway. She'd gone downstairs, found Janelle passed out on the kitchen counter, and gotten them both to the campus diner for something to drink. "I only had, like, two or three."

Janelle raised an eyebrow and pulled herself up just enough to take another sip of her coffee. "That explains why you look so damned chipper, even though it still doesn't make sense, seeing as you spent all night having hot, crazy, wild sex with your boyfriend's best friend."

Kris scowled and Janelle laughed, holding her hands up in weak defeat. "Hey, hey, calm down, bitch, you know I'm just joking." Rubbing at her temples, Janelle groaned. "Damn."

"Yeah, I know," Kris smiled and shook her head. "But you have to stop calling him my boyfriend, you know that's over."

Janelle snorted, even through her pain. "Bullshit. Every time you think it's over, it's not really over and you know it. I don't know why you make that boy chase you around, anyway; even crazy as hell, he's hot as the devil, and totally into you. Is that why you slept with Shanks?"

Kris rolled her eyes and took another big gulp of orange juice. "Knock it off, I just did what I wanted to do. And I'm glad you think you could handle Markus being crazy, because I sure as hell can't."

Janelle just sighed and shook her head, still smiling. "It just feels like a mistake I would make."

Kris raised her eyebrow at Janelle over the plastic rim of her cup. "It's a mistake you did make. Like, a year ago."

Janelle groaned and waved her hand. "Oh, shit, I totally forgot about that. That only lasted, what, a week? Does that even count?"

Kris just smiled as Janelle finished her coffee and fished a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. She knew her friend well enough to know that the cigarettes were just a front; she was running away from the conversation because she didn't want to admit that Shanks had been another one that had slept with her, then devastated her the next few weeks, when he'd not only refused to return her calls, but actively avoided being anywhere near her. "Sorry, Kris, I need a smoke, and you know how that bitch is about me smoking in here. What's the big deal, anyway? But I'll be right back."

Kris shook her head fast, right before chugging down the rest of her drink. "Nah, it's good, I've got to jet, too. I need to go back to the apartment and make sure that it's still in one piece."

Janelle opened her mouth to ask, then promptly shut it. Doubling over, she laughed so hard that not even her sudden groaning could distract from it. "Oh, good God, I totally forgot about that. You ended up letting Justin crash with you?"

Kris scowled. "Like I had a choice. I wasn't going to let my brother sleep on the streets, and I wasn't going to let him sleep in some bimbo's room, either, and I know that horny bastard would find a way to make that shit happen. But I need to make sure my apartment survived the night alone with him."

Janelle straightened up, still laughing quietly under her breath, and winked at her best friend. "Where was he last night, anyway? Did he know that you went to a party? No way did he consciously miss out on so much pu--"

"Finish that sentence and I swear to God, I will punch you so hard in the face that you will not be able to remember your hangover."

Janelle laughed and held her hands up in defeat. "Fine, fine, you win, but you know I'm right." Unable to wait until she got outside-- or maybe just to irritate the woman that had told her every day since she'd started smoking two years ago that she couldn't smoke indoors-- Janelle lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag. "Tell the kid brother I said hi. Later, Kris."

Kris leaned back and watched her best friend sway out of the café, taking long drags as she went. Part of Janelle's weaving, Kris knew, was because she was still hung over, but part of it was because it was getting to a time where people were starting to wake up and start their day, and Janelle was always on her best behavior when it came to finding a new prince.

Janelle was pretty, short, and curvaceous, with mocha skin and a full body that she absolutely loved and flaunted every chance she got. "Plus size" meant nothing to her, and the confidence she had in herself was part of why Kris loved her so much. Her dark, kinky black hair matched her dark eyes perfectly, and she had a smile that, when she flashed it at anyone, resulted in one of two things: either she roped them in off the bat, or they ran for the hills. It wasn't a big secret; Janelle had a reputation for getting a little crazy with the boys she got with. It hadn't really been a problem until she'd gone ahead and proven them right-- publicly. Her Sophomore year, she'd taken a baseball bat to a guy's windshield saying he'd cheated on her. He'd promptly said that it was a one night stand, called her crazy, and left her with a fat bill that had made his piece of shit car basically brand new, along with a reputation that made it almost impossible to look at her as anything other than a psycho. It didn't bother her much, though, and it bothered Kris even less; she'd been there to hand Janelle the bat. And even with the reputations they'd both racked up, they still had run of the campus, and they both knew it.

Her phone ringing dragged Kris out of her thoughts, echoing loudly through the empty café. Scrambling to pull it out of her pocket, Kris answered with a fast, "Hello?"

"Kris, some guy is here at the apartment asking for you."

Kris stifled a groan and rolled her eyes. And there was her brother, Justin. Her brother, who had shown up at her apartment the day before, with a backpack full of clothes and not a dime to his name. Her brother, who had likely managed to wreck her small apartment in the twelve hours she'd been gone."

"What do you mean? How does he look?"

"I don't know, man, he's like five inches taller than I am, could probably eat me, has red hair--"

"Ask him why the fuck he's at my apartment," Kris snapped instantly. Shanks wasn't supposed to be there. Shanks was supposed to be avoiding her like the plague, in fact; that was his typical M.O. when he slept with a girl.

"Kris, he's not leaving any time soon, and I'm not going to risk him eating me just to make him leave when he's not doing anything."

"You should really consider letting your balls drop, Justin, you're almost 20 years old now."

Justin snorted and Kris heard the phone rustle. Thank God. She could hear muffled talking, then a door clicking shut. "Kris," Justin said finally, "He's saying he wants to talk about Markus. Didn't you say that you and Markus broke up yesterday?

Kris groaned out loud this time. Fishing her car keys out of her pocket, she mumbled, "We did break up yesterday, this is just aftermath bullshit. I'll be there in a second, Justin, don't let him into my damn apartment."

--

Shanks leaned back against the railing outside of the tiny apartment and couldn't help but smirk; the kid inside Kris' apartment was hilarious. He'd only stuck his head out long enough to ask what was going on, then closed the door again like he thought that Shanks was gonna tear into him. Actually, he probably did think that Shanks was gonna tear into him.

Not that Shanks minded a bit; he'd worked damned hard to get to where he was at, and he wasn't about to apologize for it. At six foot three and wide cut with muscle, he had messy, curly red hair and bright green eyes. Down to the dragon tattooed up his side and the heart, club, spade, and diamond tattooed on the right side of his neck, Shanks was all about leaving an impression. In fact, that was most of the reason why he was at Kris' apartment.

He'd woken up that morning to Kris fixing her clothes-- not that she'd noticed at all. Hell, she hadn't even bothered to check if he was still in bed, and it was almost surreal watching a girl walk out on him, instead of having that be the other way around. And he didn't like it a damn bit.

"Hey, why are you here again?"

Shanks blinked ad focused on the kid in front of him, holding a phone and looking irritated-- now that he could see the kid clear, he knew for sure it was Kris' little brother. Same light grey eyes and delicate features, though the stubble on his chin and the fact that his lips weren't quite as full as his sister's saved him from looking too girly. He was tall and thin like Kris, but Shanks could tell that it wasn't from lack of muscle-- the kid, altogether, looked exactly like every other wannabe rockstar in California, with snakebites and his eyebrow pierced, dressed in Chucks, jeans, and an undone plaid overshirt.

"Tell her I'm here to talk about Markus."

The kid nodded and closed the door; by the way Shanks saw him flinch through the window, it was safe to assume that Kris was on her way home.

Shanks smiled. Good. The faster he got this done and got her out of his head, the better.
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Well, here goes another chapter; let me know what you think?

Cheers. <3