Chapter 9 : Word Vomit
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 25|
Background: Font color:
Awesome chapter image of James by emmapotter @tda :D
I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s physically impossible for me to stop talking.
Oh yeah, major word vomit on my part; I cannot even imagine how bloody annoying I must come across as to others.
It’s rapidly becoming an issue.
I mean, I just can’t stop; I completely lack any form of a filter. Actually, me being born without one of those thingies is not completely out of the question. And honestly, at this point, I’m considering getting that checked out and then finding out if I could possibly get one transplanted into my brain because something like that would be really useful to someone like me. Yeah, it’s that bad. Seriously, if you let me, I could just yack away, and never stop. Ever. No, really. Ever. Given free rein, I could just go on and on and on and on -
AND OH MY GOD I’M DOING IT AGAIN.
Er…sorry about that.
But, seriously, no joke, I should wear one of those electric collars they have for dogs and have whomever I’m conversing with zap me whenever I get out of hand.
Never mind. That’s sounds painful.
But anyway, I was starting to feel a little sorry for James after, you know, spending the whole day with me. I mean, I really tried to control myself and keep my monologues to a minimum, I really did. But, well, you know, diarrhea of the mouth.
Who came up with that expression, anyway? That is a disgusting visual.
So I was engaged in a really long rant on how I hate it when some really brilliant novel is absolutely shredded when translated to the big screen and then judged unjustly by nonreaders based on said piece of shit film. And as I spoke, I was internally commanding myself to ‘shut up’:
Just shut up Spencer. Shut. Up.
But I just kept talking and talking and I knew that James was polite enough to listen but I wasn’t sure if I was losing him or being a total turn off by being such a motor mouth. And it was making me panic.
And then suddenly, I don’t know how I did it (willpower I suppose), I broke off from my ramblings midsentence and blurted out a rushed, long overdue apology.
“I’m sorry, am I talking too much?” I felt stupid. And nervous. I was stervous.
James shook his head. “No, you’re fine.”
“I’m not getting annoying, am I?”
“I don’t think you’re annoying.”
This, for some reason, did not convince me. “Are you sure?”
“Are you sure? Cuz I can-”
“Spencer, if you don’t stop asking me if I think you’re annoying, I may have to retract my ‘no’.”
“Okay. I’ll stop now.”
This shut me up. But not for long.
You see, despite his vow that he’d eventually let me in on his little secret (via pinky swear and you know that shit is legit), I continued to list off any possibilities that came to mind. And with each incorrect guess came an even more absurd conjecture. It reached a point where James just agreed with everything I said. It was just easier and, knowing him, more amusing that way.
“Ever since the lab accident.”
“Apprenticed under Yoda himself,”
“You know it.”
And so forth. We discussed other unrelated things, but every so often I would blurt out the next theory that was swimming through my mind. James would then praise me and tell me how I was nothing short of correct and then we would move on. I sometimes wondered what he’d say if I was ever right. Maybe I already said it. And maybe I didn’t.
We continued on like this for quite a bit of time as we navigated our way through the bustling crowds of London. I can’t even begin to explain how frustrating it was to be consistently wrong. It was practically gnawing at my flesh and as time went on, I seriously began to consider giving up once and for all. It was dark and James was walking me home when I made a decision.
“I give up,” I said finally, throwing my hands up in the air.
James turned to me, his expression dripping with surprise and amusement. “What? But you were so close on that last one.”
I stopped walking and put my hands on my hips. “Don’t be a smartarse.”
He came to a halt next to me and ignored me as if I hadn’t said anything at all. “I mean, a chimera is pretty plausible if you ask me.” A wicked grin flashed onto his face.
“I hate you,” I huffed, crossing my arms.
“No you don’t.” He laughed and draped an arm across my shoulders, pulling me into his chest. His nice, toned chest.
Gah. Can’t. Breathe. Due. To. Immense. Hotness.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smirk. “I’ll take your silence as a declaration of how awesome you think I am.”
“Phlarg.” I’m just so coherent. Really, I should win some kind of award for this shit.
“I admire your eloquence, Spencer, I really do,” he teased, his grin expanding.
Oh wow. That was a really cool retort, Spencer. So cool. Like, unbelievably cool.
Note the sarcasm.
I should really stop saying stupid things. It just fuels James’s “Let’s-Make-Fun-of-Spencer” fire.
I winced internally at the thought of what was about to come.
Uh-oh. Here it goes:
“I remember when I used to use ‘Your mum’ as a comeback,” James began thoughtfully. The expression on his face resembled that of an old person reminiscing over their younger years. “I wonder why I stopped…Oh yeah, I turned six.”
He’s such a Meany McSweeny sometimes.
This requires a witty remark on my behalf. C’mon, Spencer, FINISH HIM!
“You’re just jealous of how awesome I am, Potter. It’s okay to admit it.”
Not exactly what I had in mind, but it’ll have to work, I suppose. Better luck next time.
James snorted in response to my comment. “Yeah, I’ll admit to that when Crumple-Horned Snorkacks fly.”
“What the bloody hell is a Crumple-Horned Snorkack?”
James bit his lip. “They…can’t fly…” he began and trailed off weakly due to the look on my face. He must have realized the level of inadequacy in which his response held because he then proceeded to wince at the thought of my reaction.
I didn’t even say anything. I was too frustrated. I was frustrated at being wrong all the time, with not knowing. I felt like I was on the outskirts of some inside joke that everyone was a part of but me. It was a joke that was so funny that everyone would be making references to it for weeks and I was the only one not laughing. And when I’d ask what happened, or what was so funny, they’d reply, “Sorry, you had to be there.”
That’s exactly what I felt like.
So I did the only thing that seemed logical at the time: I laid down on the pavement. I’m not exactly sure why but it in that very moment it seemed like a good idea. And so I was on my back in the middle of the road, staring pointedly at the stars, and ignoring the boy I was with.
You know, cuz that’s normal…
With my back on the pavement, I scanned the sky and searched for a constellation that I could identify. There weren’t many that I could; I wished that I knew more. I had always found the sky fascinating; it was just so…expansive. Endless. Beautiful. The list of adjectives could go on and on.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James walk over and lay down on the pavement next to me. I turned my head away from him.
Oh look! The Big Dipper!
Ten points for Spencer!
“You a fan of the sky?” he murmured so softly that I almost didn’t hear him.
If I had any control over my vocal chords, I wouldn’t have said anything at all. But since I don’t, as I’ve established earlier, I couldn’t help but respond. “If I were talking to you, I would say that I love the sky but I’m not so…yeah.”
Great Scott, I have some serious issues. What kind of response is that?
James laughed quietly. “Wanna do my astronomy homework for me?” I could just imagine the smirk he was wearing. I almost turned my head to look at it. Almost.
“I’m not talking to you, remember?”
“Aw, c’mon, Spencer,” he whined. I didn’t reply. “I’m sorry, okay? It just slipped out. I’m just used to making wi – er, non-muggle references, all the time, that’s all.”
I turned my head. He wasn’t smirking. “I feel left out,” I whispered childishly.
“I know you do.”
“And I really want to know what you are.”
“And I feel like everyone knows but me.”
“Not true, but okay.”
“And I wish I was smart enough to figure it out myse-”
“Hey,” he cut me off. “You’re smart. You had some really good guesses.”
I rolled my eyes. “A chimera? Keebler Elf? I’d hardly say those are ‘good guesses.’”
“Okay, so some of them were a bust, but some of the others were pretty good.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to.” He paused. “And if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t understand half of that muggle stuff you were talking about earlier.”
I gaped at him. “And you didn’t say anything?”
He shrugged. “I like it when you go on a rampage about miniscule things.”
I blushed. “B-but you knew what Star Wars was.”
He shrugged again. “My dad and aunt made sure that we kids were exposed to most of the classics.”
“Star Wars has always been my favorite.”
I gave him a small smile, mumbled “Me too,” and gazed into his beautiful brown eyes. I had never really given much thought to brown eyes before but his were really magnificent. Soft and the color of dark chocolate.
And I like chocolate.
“Am I forgiven?” James asked suddenly.
I laughed. “I suppose so.”
He smiled. “Good.”
At the same time, we both turned our attention back to the stars and gazed in silence. I was instantly reminded of a really great scene from the film version of The Notebook.
“What happens if a car comes?”
I let out a soft laugh at the thought. James turned to me, a grin forming on his face. “What’s so funny?”
I shook my head. “Muggle reference.”
His hand found its way to mine, lacing our fingers together and gripping tightly. “Way to make me feel left out, Lockwood.” The pout on his face was really adorable. It made me want to kiss him, not that I’d ever have the guts to.
I leaned my head against his shoulder and sighed. “Welcome to my world, Potter.”
Someone was prodding me, various parts of my body being jabbed – mainly my face and shoulders. I stirred but didn’t open my eyes. “Hmm?”
“Spencer we have to get up.”
I kept my eyes tightly shut and snuggled closer to the warm body next to mine. Fuck that, I wasn’t going anywhere.
Another poke to the shoulder. I tried to swat the hand but ended up hitting my own face.
I’m so full of win; it’s not even funny.
“C’mon, Spencer, we’re gonna get hit by a car.”
Oh right, I forgot; I’m laying down in the middle of the road.
…laying down in the middle of the road.
…in the middle of the road.
…IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD.
“WHAT?!?!” My eyes snapped open in an instant and I immediately sat up, my head colliding with James’s in the process. We both swore loudly (James’s curses were admirably creative) and yelped in pain, clutching our throbbing heads.
“Ow,” I whimpered, gasping through the pain. “You’re really hard.”
James burst into hysterical laughter. I stared at him curiously as he struggled to breathe.
What’s so damn funny?
“That’s what she said,” he finally gasped.
My face blushed tomato red. “Shut up.”
“I will not be silenced,” he declared loudly, thrusting a fist into the air.
“Just take me home, you stupid berk.”
“But then this fun adventure in which we have partaken would have to come to an end,” he whined theatrically.
“My head hurts.”
“Fine, then, be a party pooper.”
“I will be.”
“Good, I’m glad that we agree that you are in fact a party pooper.”
Smiling, I punched him in the arm, still clutching my head with the other hand. James had the decency to pretend that my strike hurt.
He then stood up, gripping my bicep and pulling me to my feet. I noticed that his hair was wilder than usual from laying down on the pavement. I mean, I always thought that James looked mega-super-sexy-hot but for some reason he looked especially attractive at that very moment. I did my best not to drool or swoon. Because well, you know, that’s such an oh-so-attractive thing to do. That kind of stuff just screams “I’m girlfriend material!”
Booyah for sarcasm.
Once I was steady on my feet, James released my arm and cupped my face, gently massaging my temples.
“Any better?” he asked, continuing the tender circular motions he was rubbing into my head.
I couldn’t even talk if I wanted to.
Sweet. Baby. Jesus. He’s. Touching. My. Face.
Cue spontaneous combustion!
Fireworks! Girly Squealing! Stomach Butterflies! Angels Singing!
“I have to pee.”
NO! NO! NO! WHY DID YOU JUST SAY THAT SPENCER, WHY? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE: SULTRY, SUAVE, SEXY. PICK ONE DAMN IT.
I have to say that I’m pretty lucky that James has a good sense of humor.
In response to my words, he rested his forehead to mine, an eruption of laughter bursting from within him. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever seen him laugh so hard, and believe me, I’ve said a lot of stupid things that led to this sort of reaction. And I, of course, followed suit by turning an unattractive shade of red.
You know, considering that I consistently put myself through this sort of thing, it should be harder to embarrass me.
My face just takes pleasure in reaching temperatures that can give the sun a run for its money.
Such are the joys of being Spencer Lockwood.
I should win a metal or something; it’s not as easy as I make it look.
“I guess I should bring you home now,” James said, still giggling slightly.
Yes, you heard me correctly, I said giggling. The boy was giggling, damn it.
“I mean, I wouldn’t want you to pee your pants or something…”
“I wasn’t supposed to say that!” I moaned.
“No?” he asked, arching an eyebrow in amusement.
“No. I was supposed to say something cute or mildly attractive. Anything but sodding ‘I have to pee.’”
“Oh, don’t be like that, it was a good laugh.”
“But I want to be more than just a ‘good laugh.’” My voice went all deep and Darth Vader-like at my poor imitation of James.
He put a hand to his heart in a mocking way to show how much I wounded him. “Hey, my voice sounds nothing like that!”
I shrugged. “Everybody’s a critic.”
We stood a moment in silence until James took my hand and spun me around in a twirl.
I snorted (unattractively, if you must know) and raised an eyebrow. “What was that for?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, just because.” He looked up at the sky. “It’s getting really dark; I should probably bring you home now.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
We didn’t move.
James cleared his throat. “You know, I was gonna offer to give you a piggyback the rest of the way to your house, but since you’ve got to pee and all-”
I gaped at him. “Oi! I’m not gonna pee on you.”
“You never know, you did throw up on me after all.” The affronted and horrified expression on my face seemed to thoroughly amuse him. “Too soon?” he asked with a mischievous grin.
He let out a small chuckle and bent down slightly. “Alright, hop on.”
My heart was pounding in my chest and my hands got a little sweaty; I wiped them quickly on my jeans.
I can do this…right?
Summoning all of the courage I possessed, I walked behind James and realized instantly that this wasn’t gonna work. “Er, James, could you maybe bend down a little farther? I don’t think I can jump that high…”
Laughing, he turned his head around slightly to look at me. “What? You’re midget legs can’t propel you high enough?”
I shook my head, a hint of a smile on my face. Believe it or not, his comment about my size didn’t really faze me; it was the kind of thing I was used to.
With once last laugh, James obeyed my request and bent down to a level that made it easy for me to climb on. When wrapping my arms around his neck, I tried to do so in a way that wouldn’t strangle him but would also keep me securely on. My heart spiked drastically once he took a hold of my legs and straightened up. I tried to keep my breathing regular.
“The blue house with the gray shutters. It’ll be on your right.”
He nodded and began walking. “Okay. But I swear to Merlin, Spencer, if you pee on me…”
I laughed loudly. “I won’t. Pinky swear.” I paused. “Are you a King Arthur fan?”
“King Arthur,” I repeated slowly. “You just said ‘I swear to Merlin.’” When he didn’t say anything, I continued. “Merlin. You know, tall, white beard, powerful wizard, yada yada yada and all that jazz.”
I felt him tense up slightly. “I know who he is.”
“So are you a fan of the whole King Arthur legend or something? I’m personally not an expert but my dad geeks out over that kind of stuff all the time so I hear about it a lot.”
He relaxed from beneath me. “I don’t know much but the whole King Arthur legend is pretty interesting.”
I nodded but then remembered how he couldn’t see me. “Yeah. It is.”
We were silent for a minute and I tighten my grip on James because I felt myself slipping off his back ever so slightly. He tightened his grip on my legs in response. My breath caught in my throat. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. My palms were practically drenched in sweat.
And I was content where I was.
A/N Here's chapter 9! Finally! Sorry it's been taking so long for me to put out chapters; I've been so busy with school, the musical, college applications/prepping for auditions, etc. But I hope that you liked this chapter! I know that it's not as long as usual but I hope that this is okay. It had some James/Spencer action that many of you have been asking for.
I hoped that you enjoyed this! Let me know in a review! :D
Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize. Credit for Star Wars goes to George Lucas; The Notebook to Nicholas Sparks. The quotes "What happens if a car comes?" and "We die," come from the screenplay for The Notebook which was written by Jeremy Leven.
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories