Warlord Metal (3 page)

Unfortunately for him, Sonny got scared. Following close on the adrenaline rush of fear was anger. There was a slight scuffle and an angry shout followed by a grunt of pain as a knee came in contact with a very sensitive area. The dark haired girl had stomped away, pushing past her wide eyed girlfriend and blushing in anger and embarrassment. The boy had yelled after her and his friends had hooted at his inability to score with the beauty.

Jay the Jerk, Sonny thought to herself over and over like a mantra. She was still pretty pissed off - especially when Shelly had told her that she'd seen a couple of the boy's friend's exchanging money. But, she was more furious with herself than anybody. God, you're an idiot. You knew he was an asshole. She shook her head.

"Did you see Stephanie...?" the blonde asked.

"What...? No, I didn't. What about her?"

Her friend leaned forward, dark eyes sparkling with glee. "She's wearing Todd Victorian's letter jacket! Isn't that cool?"

Sonny nodded with disinterest and continued walking. Her friend chattered along beside her, oblivious to the silence.

The bus stop they approached appeared devoid of other people. The dark teenager saw an odd looking heap on one bench. Somebody's clothes? she thought as they neared. She distracted herself from her anger by wondering who would leave a jacket and extra clothing at a bus stop on a night as cold as this. It wasn't until the girls were steps away before Sonny realized that it wasn't just a pile of clothes. It was actually a person.

Pale blue eyes narrowed, she kept an eye on the body as they entered the bus shelter to check the time and schedule on the video monitor. Her friend's sudden silence and intake of breath indicated her awareness of the apparent bum.

"Sonny!" she whispered, brown eyes wide. "There's a body over there!"

The teenager shook her head. "No. They're still breathing, see?"

The transient's hips and shoulders were on the bench, legs stuck outwards as if the person had sat down and then fell over sideways. Thin, dark trousers, ragged at the hem, combat boots and a black shirt of some sort were evident. The leather jacket had been pulled halfway up the torso to cover the head and shoulders more fully. It was true that there was the slight up and down movement of breathing. Even as they watched, the legs stretched out a bit, green boots digging their toes into the cement in a reflex action.

Sonny frowned. There was something familiar here. Where have I seen boots like those? Shelly was still chattering, albeit in a whisper now, verbally curious about who the bum was, where he came from, how'd he get here and in this state. And then the dark haired girl remembered.

The blonde interrupted her whispered monologue with a gasp and a squeak as the other teenager moved forward to squat by the unconscious figure. "What are you doing?!"

"I think I know her," Sonny explained with a single glance over her shoulder.

"Her? That's a her?"

The taller girl nodded absently. To the person on the bench, she said, "Jordan? Jordan, is that you?"

Another stretching of the legs was the only response.

Sonny tentatively reached out and grasped the shoulder. A slight shake. "Jordan? Wake up." Encouraged by a feminine sounding rumble, she pulled the jacket back a bit and saw pink and green hair sticking out.

Her girlfriend stood out of arm's reach, moving from one foot to the other in nervousness. She watched as the dark girl tried to wake the bum, eventually getting her to sit up on the bench. "Eeeeww, Sonny," she exclaimed with a grimace. "She's puked all over herself!"

The teenager kept the punk propped up with one hand on her shoulder. The smell of stale cigarettes, alcohol, and vomit wafted off her. There was some vomit on the t-shirt - Same one she wore at the audition last week, crossed her mind - and some on the leather jacket. Most of it had made it down the side of the bench and into a puddle, though. Whatever she's on, she's gone. The woman before her slumped in a boneless heap, mumbling under her breath and unable to open her eyes.

Sonny sighed in consternation. She glanced around, her eyes lighting on the monitor of schedules. Bus'll be here any minute. There was no way she was going to be able to muscle Jordan onto the bus and then off and the four blocks from the stop to her house. The band was playing at the bar tonight and wouldn't be done for hours, yet, so she couldn't call for a ride. Now what?

Her pale eyes lit on the payphone on the wall of the bus shelter. After some quick mental calculations, she looked at her anxious friend. "How much money have you got?"

"What?" The blonde frowned at her. "What are you gonna do? Give it to her? She'll just find another bottle." Dark eyes looked the seated form over with distaste. "Providing she wakes up before the liquor store closes."

Sonny rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No, silly! If we can afford a taxi between the two of us, I want to get one."

The girl stared at her for a full thirty seconds before shaking her head in suspicion. "What are you up to, Sonny?" she growled.

"Look, we can't leave her here. And I can't get her home by myself on the bus. At least with a taxi we can get her right to my driveway." She heaved a sigh. "You know I'm good for it, Shelly. I'll pay you back on Monday when I can get to the bank. I've got plenty in my savings, just not with me here."

"You're taking her to your house?!" the blonde demanded incredulously.

Sonny felt a tiny niggling doubt in the back of her mind. She raised her head up and glared at her friend. "Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that? You don't know this chick from Adam, girlfriend, that's what's wrong with that! For all you know, she'll go apeshit and stab you and Tom tonight in your sleep!"

The dark head shook. "No, she won't. She's the new guitarist for Tom's band. She's just tied one on and needs a place to sleep it off." She looked back at the semi-conscious form she was holding up. "She won't hurt me," she said softly, knowing it to be true.

The blonde teenager spent the next four minutes arguing with her friend. And when the bus came, it went without them. She sighed explosively and began digging into her pockets. "Oh, alright! Here's five bucks!" She slapped it into Sonny's outstretched hand with a snort. "I'm not sitting next to her! If she pukes again, it's gonna be in your lap!"

The taller teenager's face broke into a wide grin. "Thanks, Shelly!"

Pain. The world was pain. A dull ache from head to toe. All nerve endings were extremely sensitive, screaming at the slightest provocation. Faint rose colors testified to the daylight behind closed eyes. Even the hair follicles complained at the abuse of living. The mouth was filled with sand, the throat with glass.

Jordan groaned and rolled over, the sheets scraping angrily across her skin. Sheets...? She lay there, eyes closed against the shards of sunlight that would stab her when she opened them. She frowned at the feel of cool sheets against her, the softness of a pillow and mattress beneath. A faint smell of coffee wafted past, interfering with the somewhat stronger and more familiar aroma of vomit.

What the hell happened last night? Scenes slowly flashed across her inner vision - partying inside the Satyricon, then outside the Satyricon. Scoring some dope and feeling no pain. There was a girl - redhead, long and shapely legs in a tight leather miniskirt. Made me wet just watching her walk. Wasn't there an angry boyfriend, too? Bloodshot emerald eyes squinted open a crack and she peered at what was within her vision.

A standard white wall met her gaze. Before it a white vanity with gold trim and a large mirror. On either side of the mirror were two posters - one of the band Kiss and the other of Aerosmith. The top of the vanity was cluttered with bottles of perfumes and other personal care items. The mirror's reflection showed a white bookcase on the opposing wall full of books and stuffed animals.

The frown on Jordan's face deepened. Did I score? Somehow, she hadn't imagine that the redhead's bedroom would look quite like this, though. Her nose itched and she sneezed explosively, groaning loudly at the pain in her head. "Ow, shit!" she muttered, her voice cracking as she curled into a ball and put her arms over her throbbing head.

The woman lay in a fetal position for a long time, drowsing despite her discomfort. With her sensitive hearing, she could detect someone rummaging around in a kitchen somewhere. The sound of a toilet flushing and a shower running. The soft ticking of a nearby clock that was beginning to drive her to distraction. Eventually, the shower shut off and soon there were voices, male and female. The angry boyfriend...?

Deciding it was probably better for her to be up if not necessarily awake when he found out she was here, Jordan forced herself to move out of the bed. Narrowly missing the white trashcan of vomit, she got a whiff of the scent and her stomach roiled dangerously. She stood still in the room, eyes closed and breathing deeply through her nose. After gaining control, she looked blearily around.

She was only wearing her black silk boxers. Did I score? She shook her head, her aches and pains making it too difficult to tell. She found a neatly folded pile of black clothing on the opposite corner of the bed. Picking up the shirt, she shook it out, her nose twitching at the smell of laundry detergent. Whoa! I'm surprised that shirt made it through a washer and dryer without falling apart. She nudged through the rest of the pile and found her trousers as well as a fresh pair of socks and flannel boxers.

"Shit, I'm gonna have to pass out here more often," she observed with a raised eyebrow. Emerald eyes glanced around the obviously feminine room. "Wherever the hell 'here' is." She quickly donned the clean clothing. Her boots were neatly placed by the dresser and, when she got them, she found her belt, cigarettes and lighter, wallet and chain, and change on the corner. Out of habit, she checked the wallet and found a five dollar bill still there. "Huh... Well, she ain't a thief," she muttered to herself.

A low voice from the door responded. "No, I'm not."

Jordan stiffened, eyes narrowed. She slowly glanced over her shoulder to see a tall, dark haired teenage girl standing there. Aw, shit! Don't tell me I fucked a kid last night! she growled at herself, not showing any of her inner turmoil. Yeah, but ain't that just like you? a silky voice asked, a familiar stabbing comment. To the girl, she said, "Thanks for washing my clothes." The smaller woman returned to picking her items up from the dresser and putting them in her pants pockets.

The teenager shrugged. "No problem." She set a coffee cup down on the dresser and walked past the punk to the bed. She flounced down on it, leaning against the headboard. "How are you feeling?"

Jordan shrugged. "As well as I can, under the circumstances." She bent down and picked up her boots. Glancing around the room, she finally walked over and settled down on a bench by the vanity, not willing to get back onto the bed with the girl there. Well, put another notch on your belt, Tiger, the voice said. Looks like you got another virgin. The guitarist growled and viciously stomped her foot into a boot, bending over to tie it and ignoring the strain on her rebellious stomach.

Sonny watched with curiosity. "Your jacket's downstairs," she commented.

"Thanks."

"You don't remember me, do you?"

Bloodshot emerald eyes peered up at her. "What do you mean?" Jesus! Was I that fucked up last night? That even she'd notice?!

"Well, we never were formally introduced and I think the lights at the bar last weekend kinda messed up your vision." The dark girl smiled at the obvious look of confusion. "I'm Sonny Middlestead. My brother's the drummer of Warlord...?" As comprehension filtered through the woman's face, she shrugged and continued, "You're lucky I found you at the bus stop last night. It was below freezing."

Jordan frowned, trying to make the connections in her foggy mind. She sat upright and winced, grabbing at her head.

"You want some aspirin or something?" the girl asked, sitting up in concern.

"Yeah, if you've got it," the punk muttered darkly.

"'Kay. Be right back." And the girl padded out of the room.

Watching her go, lips pursed, the woman considered what had been said. Bus stop? She didn't remember any bus stop. Wait a minute.... An extremely vague feeling of exhaustion, a hard wooden bench and lights overhead. That musta been it. She considered her earlier thoughts. So maybe I didn't score with her. Good thing if her brother's Tom Middlestead!

And then Sonny was back in the room, handing her a glass of water and some pills. Jordan thanked her woodenly and gulped them down, not bothering with the water.

"Ick!" the teenager exclaimed, still holding the glass. "How can you do that? Makes me want to drink this water in sympathy!"

Jordan blinked and shrugged. "I dunno. Water's not always handy." Another thought slowly made its way through her mind. "What about your parents? Do they know I'm here?"

Something flickered across the teenager's face before she answered, "No, I live with Tom. Our parents died in an accident a couple of years ago."

"Oh." Uncomfortable, the woman finished tying her boots and gingerly rose. "Guess I should be going now. My jacket's downstairs, you said....?" She headed for the door.

Sonny quickly stepped forward to intercept. "Uh, well, yeah, it is.... Um...." She blushed and rolled her pale blue eyes. "Can I ask you something, though?"

Seeing the faint flush and the icy color of those eyes up close, Jordan paused. Damn, I wish she were older. "Yeah...?"

"Well, I don't wanna pry or anything...." Her coloring increased as she prepared to do just that. "Are you homeless or anything?" At the blank look she received from the older woman, she blurted, "I only ask, because you're wearing the same clothes you wore last week. And, if you don't have any place to stay or anything, we've got a spare room. Right over the garage. I've already talked to Tom about it." She paused to swallow nervously. "I mean, that's if you want. It's no big deal or anything. It's a mess over there and it'll need some cleaning up...." The girl was unprepared for the response.