Chapter Two
Her light brown eyes moved over the telephone sitting in front of her, waiting for it to ring. When Kevin said that he was calling, he called. Any good editor would do that. Her lips pursed as she turned away to look out the window, watching the rain falling against the window. Yesterday had been such a great day, and then all of a sudden, the sky seemed to open up. That was expected when you lived in Seattle, but that didn't mean that she liked it.
The phone finally rang, and she picked it up, pressing the talk button. "No, I didn't write anything last night," she said before the other person could even get out a hello.
There were no story quotes this time. "Alex, this can't keep up. For a year and a half now, Dell's gotten nothing from you, other than the occasional sarcastic note saying that you haven't died yet. I don't think that they're even believing that anymore. You need to give them something."
For some reason, she felt the start of a headache behind her eyes, and she closed them, rubbing gently. "I know, Kev," she snapped. "Look, I've got this great idea. Give me a little time, and I'm sure that I can get something down. It may not be much, but it's something, right? I just need a little more time."
"We can't give you anymore time, Alexandra. You've used up all your chances. I'm working on something new for you, though. It's not fiction, but it might get you back in the swing of things. All you have to do is write the history of someone. I can't say much, because it isn't finalized yet, but let's just say that you're one of the highest on the list."
"No," she said firmly. "I will not write anything but fiction. I don't care if it's something on Stephen King. I don't right non-fiction. I can't write non-fiction. I explained this to you a long time ago. So, just tell whoever it is no, and then I'll get to work on the new Demers novel." God, this was embarrassing. She was almost BEGGING for time. That was something that Alexandra Marie Colwell never did. She wasn't raised that way.
Kevin sighed deeply on the other end. "I can't, Alex. People are starting to think that you either want more money or you want out of your contract. You still have another three books to come out under your current contract with Dell. You know that you can't get out of this contract."
She groaned lightly, stopping her hand from rubbing. "I'm happy with Dell. They treat me like a princess, but that's besides the point. The thing is, I'm not pulling out of my contract, and believe me, I'm not asking for more money. With the royalty cheques and the cash I get from them, it's more than enough for now. I just...Kevin, just a little more time. That's all. I'll...I'll have the first three chapter to you in a month."
"I'm not falling for that one, Miss Colwell. You don't let anyone see your work until it's completed. Nice try, though." He was quiet for a moment, although she could hear the sound of paper rustling. "I think you need a change of scenery. Obviously, the gloominess of Seattle isn't helping any. I'm sending you away for a little awhile. I already booked a plane ticket for you, and you can pick it up at SeaTac Airport tomorrow."
Her eyes widened, and she leaned on her elbows on the counter. "WHAT? Do you remember the last time you had this genius idea. A year ago, when you sent me to Cancun. Do the words, hangover from hell, register anywhere in your little brain? I was sick for a month, and I haven't drank tequila since. There is no way."
If she could have seen him, she could have smirked when he rolled his eyes, but she didn't have the opportunity. "I'm not sending you to Cancun. I'm not sending you anywhere near a liquor store, or anywhere that you can buy alcohol."
"That's like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. Not happening in this lifetime."
"Oh, it's possible. It's at least an hour to the nearest store, and that's a grocery store. It's a beautiful place, and maybe you need something like that. Rain and thunderstorms aren't going to help you all that much."
She pouted at her reflection, and dropped her tone a little lower. "But I so enjoy watching the Space Needle sway back and forth with the wind. I've got a hundred dollars on the fact that it falls down in 2002. Well, that is if they don't make any adjustments on it. Have you ever been in there when it starts to sway? Damn, that's the-"
"Stop changing the subject. You're going away, so wait until I hang up to stomp your foot and pout. It's a longer flight that you think it'll be, so you might want to take a book with you. I already arranged for the car to be waiting for you at the airport, but you're going to be driving yourself. You might want to check into a hotel for a day if you don't sleep."
There was something wrong with what he was saying, and she finally figured it out. "You booked me on a damned red eye flight, didn't you? Oh, I hate you. I can't believe that you would do that to me."
He huffed impatiently. "Well, I'm sorry, but it saves the company money, all right? We're paying for your little excursion to the backwoods, so you might as well enjoy it. It's all free...to a degree. You do have to buy your own food, and pay for any long distance calls that don't go to me, but other than that, it's free."
"Where EXACTLY am I heading?"
"It's just outside of Aspen. The company's cabin is empty, and we figured that you might want to stay there. Well, I figured that."
Her eyes rolled heaven-ward, and she silently prayed. "PLEASE tell me that it has a bathroom, because if you're going to tell me that it doesn't have a pot to piss in, or a window to toss it out of, I am seriously going to fly down to California and kill you slowly and painfully. I'm serious about this, Kev. I don't care how many birthday and Christmas cards you've sent me, I will kill you."
"It has indoor plumbing, and even electricity. It's more of a house than a cabin, so I don't know why they call it that. Look, I've got to go. Just make sure that you're on that flight tomorrow. It takes off at eleven at night. You might want to start packing now."
She was quiet for a moment, before she spoke slowly, making sure that the point got across. "Got to hell. And burn slowly." The phone was shut off, and she practically threw it. "Great, I get to go rub elbows with the local freaks in a mountainside resort. Joy of all joys."
Stepping into the airport, she looked around with a sigh. Kevin had called the day before and given her more information on the trip, such as where she had to pick up her car and the directions to the cabin. Nonetheless, she was apprehensive about this whole trip, mad at him for sending her away, and it didn't help that she had just woken up and hadn't had any coffee yet. For someone who lived out in Seattle for the past ten years and had learned to accept the Starbucks on every corner, no coffee was like a travesty. She had a feeling that Seattle had the highest number of caffeine addicted people in the world.
Out of the corner of her eye, she potted the familiar green sign, and almost ran to it, digging into her pocket for a few crumpled bills. As soon as she had a mocha in her hands, she snagged a baggage cart and picked up her luggage. It seemed like it was the first time that her luggage had been at the same place that she was.
The next stop was to the rental car counter, where Alex put down her coffee with a sigh. "I believe a Mr. Latkin called ahead for a rental for me." The woman looked at her blankly, and she forced her groan back in her throat as she brought out her license. "I'm Alexandra Colwell. C-O-L-W-E-L-L, thank you very much. Do you have any Lincoln's?" she asked, crossing her fingers. If she couldn't get the same truck that she drove at home, she was going to book a flight right back to SeaTac and head back into her nice, cozy house.
"Yes, ma'am." It was miss, but there was no point in correcting the airhead, Alex thought grimly. "We do carry Lincoln. Is there a certain car that you wanted?"
Now she had to resist from rolling her eyes. Hadn't she just asked if they rented out Lincoln? Wouldn't that mean that she wanted one? "Yes, if you have it," she said between her clenched teeth. "A Lincoln Blackwood, a 2001 model, preferably. And it has to have mud and snow tires on it," she said, looking outside to the small flurry that was falling. She was supposed to drive in that crap? Seattle didn't get that much snow, and when they did, the town seemed to stop altogether. If there was an inch on the ground, school was canceled all over.
A few clicks on the computer and the woman smiled. "Yes, ma'am. A Lincoln Blackwood has been rented in your name. If you could just sign these for me..." A few forms were passed across, and she was happy to see that they had already been filled in, except for her signature. She signed it three times before handing it back. She was never asked for autographs, never had a book signing, but she hoped to hell that the woman wouldn't notice what name she had signed. Like on everything else, she signed the name 'Alex M. Colwell'. No one had picked up on it yet, but she was sure that it was only a matter of time before someone actually did.
The keys were passed to her, and she was directed where to go in the parking lot. Alex finally rolled her eyes when she turned around, and pushed the luggage cart in front of her. "What, I'm not good enough for a damned limo or anything?" she grumbled, sipping her coffee as she continued. As soon as she got outside, she shivered inside the thin material of her jacket, looking for the row that the woman had told her to go to.
Almost immediately, she recognized the twin to the black truck that sat in her driveway in Seattle, and breathed a sigh of relief, walking even faster towards it. Her eyes sought the private haven, and before long she was throwing her bags into the back of the truck, slamming the door shut happily before climbing into the driver's seat. A few minor adjustments she made, before turning the key in the ignition and backing slowly out of the parking lot.
Now all she had to do was make it there safely, and turn on her laptop. Because if she didn't work...she was in big trouble.
Chris sighed, looking through the cupboard again. "Brooke, what were you planning on making for dinner?" he asked with a hopeful tone, as he pushed past the box of soda crackers, and the can of tomato soup. Now that was something that he could remember from his childhood. Tomato soup and crackers, with pepper so thick on the top the bowl looked black, had always been his comfort food. He hadn't had it in years, and the thought of it made his mouth practically water.
"Whatever you can find, you can cook for us," the sweet reply came from behind him. "I'm not cooking for everyone here, you know. I was just going to have-" She was cut off when the door slammed shut. "Thank you, Christopher. Tear the place apart, why don't you?"
He shrugged and headed towards the fridge. "It's legally in your name. It's not like we're renting it or anything." He winced and rubbed his head when he felt something hit it. "You're throwing spoons at me? This can't be good."
"No, it can't," Brooklyn replied, going to pour herself a cup of coffee. "Why are you up so early, anyway? The other four brats are sleeping peacefully upstairs, and you decided to grace me with your presence at...man, what the hell am I doing up at six thirty in the morning."
His hands pushed away the loose cans of Pepsi left over from the twelve case they had gotten into the night before and sighed. "Well, it's official. Unless we're planning on eating saltines and soup for the next two months, you need to go to the store and pick some stuff up." Sitting down at the table, he brushed the few crumbs from his toast that morning onto the floor. "You know how to cook, right? I mean, your brother is a chef."
Brooklyn rolled her eyes. "Surprisingly, his talents didn't rub off on me. I can cook a few things, but not much. Why do you think, every time I stayed at your place, we either ordered out, went out, or you cooked."
"Because you were the guest, and you're not supposed to make the guest cook?" he questioned, putting on a look of innocence. "Look, if you leave now, you'll be back before the guys wake up, and then they can fend for themselves for breakfast. I mean, if they want something, they can cook it. Except for me, right?"
Her eyes went towards the window, and she sighed. "There is no way that I can drive in that. If it snows in Tennessee, which, where I'm from happens once in a blue moon, you don't leave the house. I don't know how to drive in snow." Her eyes turned back to him. "You were brought up in a state that had a lot of snow, right? You drive. I'll come along for conversation."
Chris went into full pout mood. It wasn't often that he did, but it always worked when he was younger. A simple widening of the eyes (and with the proper lighting, it made them brighter), and pushing out his lower lip just the slightest usually got him whatever he wanted. And if that didn't work, a solitary whimper would do the trick. Then again, Brooklyn wasn't exactly normal. "But...but...it's my vacation, Brooke. I was just planning on laying on the couch, watching that terrific big screen television for the first month, and then turning over, and laying on my other side, while reading and watching television for the second month. You don't want to make me go out in THAT crap, do you?" He stuck the whimper in at the end, and watched her as she hit the table with her palms and stood up.
"Get your coat and shoes, and we're leaving. Nice try, but it doesn't even work for JC."
"Bite me," he muttered, standing up to walk out of the kitchen and into the large living room. A fire was still burning from last night, though it was smaller than it should have been, and he stopped to toss another log on it before heading upstairs to his room. His OWN room.
When was the last time he had his own room, all to himself, he wondered as he opened the door and walked in. There were more than enough rooms in the cabin...although Lance had mentioned that it looked more like a mansion than a cabin, for everyone to have their own, except for Brooklyn and JC. A smile curved his lips when he thought about how far they had come in the past while, as he made his way to his open suitcase, pulling out his heavier jacket and throwing it over his arm. His eyes made their way over to the bed, and he deliberated for a moment, wondering if he should make it or not.
He shook his head. He had more than enough time when he came back to pull back the comforter and hide the rumpled sheets underneath. Besides, it wasn't like anyone was really going to go in there, except for him. With a sigh, he walked out, closing the door behind him to hide the mess that he had made in one night, and went back down the stairs.
Brooklyn was already waiting for him, putting a pair of black gloves into her pocket. "Oh, come on. We're going to get out of the vehicle to go in the store, and then we're going to leave the store to get into the vehicle. Your hands aren't going to get that cold in those...three or so minutes," he said, pulling on the jacket and reaching for his sneakers.
"You'd be surprised," she told him. He grumbled, taking a pair of keys off of the table and opening up the front door for her to walk through before reaching his hand around and setting the lock. "My GOD, it's cold out here," she said, stomping her feet as she waited for him to close the door.
His head shook. "You're a wuss. Are you this bitchy when you go skiing, too?" he asked, grunting when her hand collided with his stomach. "I take it back. Come on, this is probably going to get a little worse today, so we might as well hurry."
Unlocking the passenger side door for her, she opened it and looked up, blinking when a snowflake caught her in the eye. "Fast should not be a word that's used today. I would be much happier if you said 'slow' because fast brings to mind the thought of skidding off the road and dying a cold and lonely death. Besides, you know that JC would kick your ass if you killed me."
"How could he? I'd be dead, too, so unless he has a fetish for beating up on dead bodies, there ain't no way that he's laying a finger on me. And it WILL get worse. I do remember some things about living in Pennsylvania. Snow is one of them." He shivered as she slammed her door shut and reached across to unlock his. Sliding into the seat, he turned on the engine, and then reached for the heat control, turning it up as high as it would go. Both of them gasped when the cold air hit them full force. "It'll warm up in a second, so don't even bother complaining about this."
Her eyes rolled as she reached for her seat belt, clicking it beside her hip. "Aren't we in a good mood today? Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or would this be the male version of PMS? I am SO glad that you decided to come along."
Turning the Explorer, he started slowly down what was supposed to be a dirt and gravel road, but was covered with slush. "Eh, don't worry about it. I'll snap out of it in a half hour or so. If I'm up before seven thirty, I bite everyone's head off. Don't take it personally."
"I don't believe you, just like how I didn't believe you on the bus, but that's-" She broke off and jumped when Chris made the vehicle come to a sudden stop and swore under his breath. "You didn't just do that."
"I'm afraid I did," he said, sighing.
"Tell me that you did NOT just do that."
His head turned to look at her as he turned the engine off, and then pulled out the keys. "Don't ask me again, Brooklyn, because the answer is going to be the same. I did that, all right? Put on your gloves, and come on. It looks like our Explorer has become suddenly attached to whatever vehicle THAT is, sticking out of the driveway." He raised his hand when he saw her opening her mouth. "Don't even. I'll answer if before you have a chance to ask me again. YES, I just hit that vehicle, and I'm going to need you for moral support so that I don't kill the stupid bastard who was backing out so fast, all right?"
Nodding her head meekly, she pulled on the gloves and slipped out of the passenger side door, going to meet him on the other side of the Explorer. Sighing one more time, he ran a hand across his hair to push off the already melting snow, and started towards the other vehicle, listening to Brooklyn babble to herself. "Oh, I am so glad that the Explorers were put under your name. And would you look at that? I never knew that Lincoln made trucks. Maybe I should get rid of the jeep and get one of these, because there's definitely-"
He stopped her by raising his hand again. "Brooke, enough already. I didn't know that Lincoln made trucks, but if it's a Lincoln, you can almost bet that this guy is rich, and that he doesn't take a simple apology. Not only that, but the more money he can get, the happier he is."
Her jaw dropped. "You're not dealing with a rich guy, Chris. You're dealing with an irate female. Have fun." His head turned as she started back for the Explorer, slipping on the half melted snow. Groaning under his breath, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back beside him. "Ow, did you really have to do that? You probably left a bruise."
"That's not the only thing that's going to be bruised. What the hell is your problem?" another voice asked. It wasn't just tinged with anger, Chris noticed. It was full of anger, and all that venom was being directed towards him. Even before he opened his mouth to say something, the woman cut him off. "Don't even TRY to explain this to me, all right? I know perfectly well what happened, and there is no way in hell that you're going to apologize and run off. You hit my damned truck, and to top it off, it's a rental. Do you need your eyes checked or something?" she exploded, hands slamming down on her hips.
His eyes rolled, he crossed his arms. "Well, if blabbermouth over here would shut up for a few seconds, so that I could say something," he said, looking over at Brooklyn as she was muttering to herself. She quieted and shot him a weak smile. "Thank you. As I was GOING to say, I could see perfectly fine. YOU were the one that decided to back up, going about fifty out of your driveway. Don't think that all the blame is on me, here."
"The...the blame?" the woman sputtered. "Oh, you did NOT just go there. This is very clearly your fault. You don't even have your damned lights on, you jerk!"
"They were on, I just turned off the car before I came out here."
Brooklyn tugged on his sleeve and reached up on her toes, whispering something to him. He nodded, realizing what she was trying to say. The last thing he needed was to have a story in the paper about how he was verbally attacking someone that he got into an accident with. Not that it was much of an accident, he figured. She smiled and looked over at the woman. "While I agree that he can be a jerk sometimes, the least we can do is introduce ourselves. I'm...Brooke, and this is Chris...and you would be...?"
When he looked back at the angry woman, he noticed the same look go over her face as the one that had gone over Brooklyn's. Whether or not to tell the truth. That puzzled him, and he watched as she fought to find a name that she could use. "Alexandra. My name is Alexandra. Now, if you don't mind, I was talking to your boyfriend about his stupidity and blindness, thank you very much."
"Believe me, I wouldn't go out with him if my life depended on it," she murmured to herself, causing Chris to elbow her. "Bruise number two. Oh, J...Josh is going to kick your ass for this," she said, correcting herself quickly. Her head turned back to the two vehicles. "Look, it doesn't look like there was any damage. At the most, there's a little scratch, and there should be a little container of touch up paint in the console. The rental places don't even need to know about it," she offered with a shrug of her shoulders.
Alex turned back to Chris. "Don't think that you're getting away with it that easily. I want the name of your insurance company, and I want it now."
He sighed. "Brooke, you know that notebook that you were writing in yesterday? Is it still in there?" She nodded. "Then go and get it, please. And hurry." He turned around and watched as she ran off to the Explorer, before looking at Alex. "I want your information, too. You're the one at fault here, not me." He could very easily be the one at fault, he thought to himself, but there was no way in hell that this woman, if Alexandra was even her real name, was going to get away with him.
Brooklyn came back with the notebook and a thoroughly chewed on pen, handing them over. He pulled his wallet out and started digging through it, grumbling to himself the whole time. When Alex came back, he had already copied down all his information, with an added bonus. "I put the number of my lawyer on there, as well. I'd prefer that you spoke to him first, before you called the insurance company."
A single eyebrows arched up. "Ooh, Mr. Big Shot has a lawyer? I'm so shocked." She handed him a piece of paper, taking the one that he offered her reluctantly. "By the way, my lawyer's number is on there, too, and I'd prefer if you called her first, as well. Have a nice day," she added sarcastically before looking down at the paper. "Mr. Kirkpatrick. I'm sure you'll hear from my lawyer soon enough."
With another roll of his eyes, he grabbed Brooklyn and started back to the Explorer. "This is all that I needed today," he complained under his breath before slamming the door shut as he sat down.
Jabbing the key into the door knob, she turned it, and then pushed the door open so hard it hit the wall and almost bounced back in her face. "Stupid idiots," Alex mumbled, slamming the door shut behind her. All she had been doing was backing the truck up so that she could turn it around, and instead, she gets hit by an arrogant man and his annoying girlfriend...or whoever the hell she was.
A box of papers and magazines, used mainly for research were dropped onto the ground with a loud thud before she pushed off her jacket and went to the living room, where she had already started a roaring fire when she first got in. Sliding down onto the couch, she reached for the telephone and dialed Kevin's number. "Hey, Kev," she said quietly.
"I take it that you got there safe and sound?"
She snorted. "Safe and sound. Nice choice of words. As I was backing out of this damned driveway, which is too small by the way, this idiot hits me and has the nerve to tell me that it's my fault. And, to top it off, his girlfriend came running out and tried to be the peacemaker. GOD, she was annoying. Anyway, I gave them your wife's number, since she is my lawyer. Just wanted to tell you to warn her."
"No problem, Alex. So, are you fine there, or did you need something else?"
Her eyes went towards the fire. "I have no doubt that within a little while, my mom is going to find out that she can't get ahold of me at home, or on my cell phone, so she'll call you. When the Dragon Lady asks where I am, don't tell her and certainly don't give her this number. This is supposed to be a relaxing vacation, right? I don't need her shit out here, so just make sure that she can't get in contact with me. Thank you, and have a very nice day," she added sarcastically before putting the phone down. With a huff, she slid even further down on the couch and closed her eyes to the headache that she felt coming on.
Those damned headaches were becoming more and more frequent, she thought as she yawned. Just the slightest thought of sitting at her computer and not writing anything caused a near migraine to start, and it was beginning to piss her off. Alex was always in control of her life, but it seemed that she couldn't control every single thing in it. "No shit, otherwise I wouldn't have gotten rammed into by that ass," she whispered.
Rolling her eyes, she got up from the couch and looked around. All of her suitcases were still strewn around the living room, as well as some boxes of books that she just couldn't leave behind. Groaning, she started to lug the biggest suitcase towards the stairs, still complaining under her breath. This really wasn't her day, and it didn't look like any part of her vacation was going to get any better.
Her breath coming in large gasps from the exertion of just MOVING the suitcase from the one room to the base of the stairs, she sat down and took a deep breath, running a hand through her loose hair. For some reason, she kept going back to the argument in the driveway. There was nothing special about it, not like it was a knockdown, drag out fight or anything, but there was something almost...familiar about that woman's face. She had seen it before somewhere, she just didn't know where.
She had seen those green eyes in her life, and not too long ago. The hair was different. Wasn't it long and silky before? But the woman...Brooke, she reminded herself, had curly hair. "You're begging for a one way ticket to the funny farm, kid," she told herself, not even realizing that it was a quote from one of her novels. She had ever known anyone named Brooke before, as far back as she could remember, and it wasn't that common of a name that Alex would forget it.
But that didn't mean that she couldn't stop a smirk. Brooke had been...bubbly. Her whole attitude reminded her of the girls in cheerleading uniforms that used to walk down the hallway. Those girls and Alex had never gotten along and probably never would in her lifetime. So, it came as no surprise to her that she hadn't liked her. "Understatement of the century," she said, before pressing her palms against her knees and forcing herself to stand up.
There was a far easier way to get her clothes upstairs, she figured, reaching for the zipper on the suitcase. Lifting out some jeans and sweaters, she started upstairs, looking down every now and then to make sure that she didn't trip. Reaching the master bedroom, she pushed open the ajar door and dropped the clothes on the bed before going back down for more.
If one thing could be said for the little encounter that happened outside her driveway, Alex thought with a smirk, she could definitely make this trip a little more exciting than it was going to be. Her father didn't used to call her a hellraiser for nothing.
"Would you calm down? What's done is done. It's not like it's the end of the world," Brooklyn chastised him as they carried the last of the groceries into the house. She put down the last bag in her hand, pushing it further so that it didn't hit the floor before turning to look at Chris. "Look, you haven't died yet, so it's safe to say that the Wicked Witch of the..." Trailing off, she did the calculations mentally before grinning. "The Wicked Witch of the West hasn't cast a spell on you...yet."
A snickering came from behind them. "Uh oh. What did Chris do now?"
"Nothing," he grumbled, pulling a loaf of bread out of a bag and throwing it onto the counter.
Brooklyn whirled around and smiled at everyone sitting at the table. "Nothing major. Just the fact that one of our Explorers decided to have a love affair with the back of the coolest looking truck I have ever seen in my entire life. Yes, better than my truck, JC. Anyway, this woman came out and she and Chris had a big fight over who was at fault, and all that." She paused and looked around. "Well, the least you could do is ask us if we're all right. Geez," she said with a laugh.
"Was she cute?" Justin asked hopefully.
"Too old for you, sweetie. Sorry."
JC cleared his throat. "Let me try. Was she cute, New York?"
Chris started to laugh on the other side of her, trying to cover it up by digging into another bag and putting cans on the counter louder than he should have. This was definitely going to be interesting. "If you so much as LOOK in the direction of her cabin, I'm going to...going to...um..." She trailed off, uncertain of what to say.
"Aw, did Brooklyn have a brain fart?"
With a giggle, she shook her head. "Don't ever change, Joey. But to answer your question, yes, she was cute. She looked older than me, though. She said her name is...uh...Alexandra, right?" Chris nodded, opening a cupboard. He turned around to watch as JC playfully got up and reached for his jacket, causing her to slap his hand. Shaking his head, he continued to put the groceries away, listening half heartedly to their conversation.
He was still lost in his thoughts when the kitchen was filled with laughter again. "I'll take that back. Joey, PLEASE change," Brooklyn told him.
Turning around, he forced a smile on his face. "I'm going for a..." He stopped, and everyone shut up, listening carefully. A loud bass beat filled the air, coming from another cabin. There was no doubt about who was playing the music, he thought to himself. "I'm going for a walk," he finally finished, going to get his shoes and jacket from where he had left them in the foyer.
Opening the door, he walked out and started down the driveway, listening to the snow crunch under his feet. That wasn't the only sound that he heard, because as he walked further down the road, the lyrics to the music filled the air. Rolling his eyes, he continued walking until he was standing outside of Alex's driveway.
Destined by a fate so cruel,
I'm drugged to delight.
Laughing as the lies unfold,
I've lost all control.
Smirking, he reached down and winced at the temperature of the snow against his warm hands, quickly making a snowball. He wound up and let it fly through the air until it smacked against an upstairs window where he could see someone walking around. The music turned down a little, and Alex stuck her head out the window. "What the hell do you want?" she shouted down at him.
Chris grinned. "Would you mind turning it down a little? I think they can hear the music all the way to Aspen. Thanks," he added in a saccharine sweet voice. Surprisingly, Alex stuck her tongue out at him and walked back to the stereo, cranking up the music louder than it had been before. "Bitch," he muttered, turning around to walk out of the driveway.
He stopped when something cold and solid hit him in the back of his head, and he spun quickly on the hardpacked snow to see Alex grinning at him. "Sorry about that. I missed. I was actually aiming for your ass." She shot him the finger quickly and slammed her widow shut again.
"And I wanted to go on vacation?" he asked himself, before turning and walking away, still digging snow out of the collar of his jacket.
Well, I managed to sneak another Tea Party song into an NSYNC story. The portion of a song used in this chapter is from "Temptation", by The Tea Party. Don't ask me what CD it's on. I can't remember anymore, but there is a version of it on "Tangents- A Tea Party Collection".
Chapter Three
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