Chapter Text
Alicia pressed the champagne bottle to her lips, her fingers leaving prints on the dusty green bottle. Across from her, Chris watched her nervously with his hands in his pockets. She giggled as the alcohol sent up a rush of giddiness as it wrapped her brain in a protective plastic bubble. She took another long swig. Soon everything would be forgotten, the soldiers outside, the shit going on with Nick and with Chris' mom, the fact that her own mom and that crazy old Salvadorian man had a soldier tied up in the basement and were torturing him, Su Su's suicide note, and most of all, the image of Matt covered in sweat and lolling around in his bed while he waited to die—no while he waited to become one of those things.
She turned the music up louder and swayed on her feet to some horrible 80's pop song. That was all these people had on their iPod—crap 80's music, but she was getting wasted and it all sounded fucking fantastic to her right at this moment. She squeezed her eyes shut and downed another huge gulp. She turned the music up louder still. Chris was shouting at her over the racket. She had no idea what he was saying. His brow was furrowed, but not in an angry way, maybe concerned would've been a more fitting description. He slipped past her and turned the music back down to a reasonable volume. She suddenly remembered that she hadn't offered Chris a drink at all and the bottle was half empty all ready.
“Whoops! Where are my manners?” she laughed, stretching her arm out towards him.
Chris shot a glance out the broken bay window at the front of the house and then back to Alicia. He looked at the bottle hesitantly.
“I don't know,” he muttered.
“You've never been drunk, before I bet,” she laughed, stepping forward so there was only about a foot of space between them.
“We're gonna have to head back soon. It's already getting late. It'll be dark in a few hours.”
“C'mon, Chris, now's not the time to be responsible,” she groaned, thrusting the bottle into his hands.
She studied his expression. He still had that damned sad puppy dog look he had earlier today when she had ridden up to him on her bike and convinced him to come here with her.
“Come on, it'll take your mind off things. A little won't hurt. You won't get too drunk,” she promised.
The troubled look rolled over his face again and she guessed he was probably thinking about his mom. He grabbed the bottle and raised it to his lips. He scrunched up his face as he swallowed. They passed the bottle back and forth for a few minutes until it was gone. She glanced between the tiled fireplace and the bottle and then smashed it as hard as she could onto the hearth. Chris blinked at her and gave a little smile.
He was actually kind of cute when he smiled. It made his dark eyes glisten for a few seconds as it flashed across his face. She reached up onto the mantle and snatched up a ridiculously large emerald green glass egg and tossed it to him. He fumbled to catch it and turned it over in his fingers before pulling it back over his shoulder. Alicia stepped to the side and he smashed it against the hearth. They smiled at each other, big impish grins. Alicia cranked the music back up and took out two golf clubs from the bag next to the fireplace and tossed one to Chris. She swung it behind her head and brought it down into the mirror that hung above the mantle. She could see Chris in the cracked glass behind her beating the shit out of a set of little precious angel figurines with his club.
When they ran out of stuff to break in the living room, they moved on to the kitchen. She hit up the liquor cabinet in the dinning room first though. Literally hit it, with the golf club. She reached in through the broken glass and took out an expensive looking bottle of whisky, probably something that was only to be served on the fanciest occasions, like their son getting accepted into Yale Law School. Something they never would have dreamed would end up surging up the throat of a seventeen year old girl to cover one of their beaded little throw pillows in the other room after all the alcohol had made her so dizzy that she couldn't breathe or think.
Alicia took a carefully measured drink to get a taste of it before taking a bigger swig. It was woodsy and smooth, not like the cheap shit she was used to drinking at Matt's parties.
“How is it?” Chris asked.
“See for yourself,” she told him, passing him the bottle.
He took a more audacious drink than he had when she first passed him the champagne and he didn't scrunch up his face this time.
“Hmm. I like it. Makes me feel classy,” he said, taking another drink.
“Hey, save some for me, darling,” she laughed, hooking her arm around the back of his neck to usher him into the kitchen.
The room was spotless except for a thin layer of dust. The gray granite countertops still gleamed even with the dust. A large island stood in the center of the room and above it hung a small crystal chandelier. At the far end of the room a dark wood glass-fronted cabinet stood near a door that probably led out to a patio.
They went for the cabinet first as it was filled with all kinds of smashable goodies—fine china, glass plates, crystal goblets, platters ringed with gold leafing. Alicia picked up a crystal wine glass and tossed it up in the air. As it came back down she tried to hit it with her golf club before it could hit the floor. She missed though and the glass shattered on the tiles. Chris tried with another glass, but he failed more miserably than she had.
“Let me guess, you weren't on the varsity baseball team,” she teased.
“Let me guess, you weren't on the varsity softball team,” he taunted back at her.
“Nope. Sports weren't my thing. I was vice president of the drama club though and last year I had the lead in the school production of MacBeth. Well not lead really, but close,” she told him.
“Yeah? That's cool I guess. I started the film club at my school. We were always looking for theater kids to act for us.”
“Too bad the world ended. Maybe we coulda made the next Youtube viral hit together,” she said it with a laugh, but the sound stung her throat as it pushed its way up from her chest.
“Sucks,” he agreed, “My camera still has enough battery left to film a couple more hours worth of stuff. Maybe we can still make something and once all this gets fixed and the internet's back up we can post it. Maybe we'll get jobs in Hollywood. I mean, the pool of actors and directors has got to be thinned out because of all this shit.”
“What kind of movie would we make?” she asked.
“Dunno yet. I'll work on it. I'll write something for you. What are you good at? Comedy? Drama? Horror? A little of all three?”
“Drama. Something sad,” she said.
She looked down at her worn tennis shoes. Out the corner of her eyes she could tell he was studying her face. After what seemed like twenty minutes, he nodded.
“You got it. I'll get started on it tomorrow. I think I have a few ideas.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Don't want to spoil it for you, but it might involve dinosaurs or aliens.”
“Are you going to make me play a suicidal dinosaur?”
He laughed at that, “No way. That's amateurish.”
Her stomach settled and she was feeling a little better now. They headed upstairs next to see what other objects they could break. Chris pulled open the french doors that led to the master bedroom. A massive king sized bed with dark wood head and foot boards stood in front of a wall of windows. The bed was covered with a fluffy sunshine yellow comforter and about fifty pillows. A large vanity table with a big round mirror was pushed to one side of the room. The dusty surface was covered in makeup and perfume. It stood next to a folding white wood slated door that led into a walk-in closet that could have come straight out of one of those movies where they had a fashion montage where the character tries on two hundred outfits in thirty seconds.
Across the room, Chris let out a soft, “Whoa!” and she turned to see he had discovered a matching walk-in closet filled with men's clothes. She moved inside the closet. Her head was spinning trying to decide what to try on first. She closed the door a little bit, but not all the way. Chris was busy exploring the closet on the opposite side of the room anyways. She stripped down to her bra and panties and began ripping clothes from the wooden hangers.
She tried a few cute sequined tank tops first, a pale pink one and a red one. There were tons of silk blouses and two hundred dollar pairs of jeans, but the evening gowns caught her eye the most. She tried on a few, but they were a bit big in the chest. She guessed the woman that owned them probably had fake tits. She kicked off the dress she had on and took another swig of whisky as she stood there in her underwear in front of the mirror.
Alicia nearly spit the drink out everywhere when she saw Chris' face in the mirror behind her. He was frozen. His mouth was hanging open a bit. Her first instinct was to cover herself or duck to the side out of his view, but something about the way he was staring with that starstruck gaze gave her a fluttering feeling in her stomach.
Does it really matter anyways? He would have been my step brother if our parents had gotten a chance to get engaged and get married before all this shit went down.
Instead, she bent over slowly and unapologetically and stepped into the sparkly black floor length dress she had been planning on trying next. This one was a better fit. It was tighter around her breasts and had an open back. She unhooked her bra and removed it. The front of the dress had padded cups between the deep v neck that plunged almost to her bellybutton. She admired herself in the mirror a few times before remerging into the bedroom.
Chris was no where to be seen now, but she could hear clothes being thrown around in the closet across the room. She sat down at the vanity and spritzed on some perfume that smelled musky and spicy. She went through the tubes of lipstick until she found a vibrant red and swiped it across her lips. Chris was watching her in the mirror again. He was standing near the foot of the bed, fiddling with a tie. He had put on a white button down shirt and a black suit jacket that was slightly too big for his slender frame.
Alicia turned around to face him, debating whether she wanted to give him shit for watching her dressing earlier. He swore as he fumbled pitifully with the tie and she felt sorry for him.
“Come here, Chris,” she sighed.
He looked up at her and his face turned red. She couldn't tell if it was from his embarrassment of not being able to tie the tie or from her catching him looking at her. He moved closer and put his hands down at his sides. His lips were down turned and she felt depressed just looking at him, so she focused on the black silk tie. She knotted it and pulled it tight, brushing her fingers over the exposed skin on his neck before she put her hands down.
“You look like you could use another drink,” she told him, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Chris sat next to her and she reached for the bottle where it lay on the night stand. He nodded and tipped his head back draining a good amount. She took one last drink before she set it back down on the night stand and flopped onto the bed. Chris squeezed in next to her and she scooted over to make room.
“Do you think they're ok? My mom and Nick?” Chris asked.
“I don't know. I don't know anymore, Chris,” she said.
It was the truth. She supposed she could have lied, could have told him everything was going to be ok, that those army assholes would probably bring his mom and her brother back in a few days and everyone would go on their merry way. She didn't believe that anymore. The world had changed and she was trying to force herself to accept that.
“I don't know what I'm gonna do if she doesn't come back,” Chris told her.
She didn't want to promise him anything. She didn't have much hope Nick would come back alive either. Her hand dug around the sheets next to her until it brushed against the warm smoothness of his and she laced her fingers through his. His fingers twitched for a second as if he was trying to rapidly make up his mind whether or not to pull away. His fingers relaxed and curled around hers.
“Hey, they'll come back. And if they don't we'll get them back. My mom and your dad may be a couple of bumbling idiots, but they've got the help of that old dude, Daniel. He seems crafty. I bet he'll figure something out,” she tried to reassure him, although her words felt hollow.
“You're right. Daniel's a cool guy. He won't let anything happen to his wife and I'm sure he'll help my mom and your brother.”
His hopefulness made her smile, but inside she felt her heart being crushed because she couldn't hold onto the same faith that everything would be alright.
The room was slowly darkening, turning the pale lavender wallpaper a stormy grayish color. Everything was spinning. She draped her free arm over her eyes to block out the little remaining light. Her stomach felt like she was barreling up and down hills on a roller coaster. Next to her Chris groaned and she could guess he felt the same. They should go back downstairs and head home before it got darker, but she didn't think she could make the walk without falling on her ass and Chris was in no state to help her. They should really sober up more before they faced their parents anyway. They were clueless, but they would probably notice if she and Chris came stumbling in reeking of whisky and vomit.
Alicia must have passed out because when she opened her eyes the room was pitch black. Her stomach gave a violent lurch and she untangled her fingers from Chris' and scrambled over him where he lay asleep in the bed next to her. He mumbled something as he sat up. Alicia couldn't remember where the bathroom was and it was too dark to see a damn thing so she stumbled to the corner and fell to her knees.
Chris was mumbling something from the bed. He stumbled across the room and found her in the darkness. He ran his hands up her naked back until they found her hair which he gathered up and moved out of the way. He held her hair out of the way while she vomited and rubbed her back with his other hand all while muttering words of comfort.
Her throat burned as everything she ate and drank that day came surging up. She had sobered quite a bit during her sleep and the icy cold fingers of reality were wrapping around her throat once again. Matt was dead. Su Su was dead. Nick was probably dead or soon to be. They all were probably going to be dead because her mom and Chris' dad couldn't do a damn thing to protect them. When she finished, she wiped her face on one of the bed pillows and let it drop into the puddle of vomit with a sickly splat.
When she turned around to face Chris, she was sobbing. He rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms.
“Hey, come on now. You said it yourself earlier. They're going to be alright,” he reminded her.
A flash of anger shot through her. She had only said it because she was drunk and he was sad and it was killing her buzz.
His arms encircled her in the darkness. She considered shoving him away, but her arms were shaking after puking her guts out. She couldn't remember the last time someone had held her. It must have been weeks ago, before Matt got sick. So instead of shoving him away, she wrapped her arms around his back and buried her face in his chest. His heart thudded in her ear. She thought it sounded a bit faster than it should have, but she couldn't be sure.
The sound of glass breaking downstairs caused them both to jump and push away from each other.
“Looks like someone's been in here! Was all this shit broken before?” a man's voice yelled from downstairs.
Alicia looked at the faint outline of Chris that was visible in the dark. His fingers closed around her wrist and together they crept into the walk-in closet and slipped behind the row of evening dresses. Her pulse was pounding in her wrist where his fingers still gripped her.
“Must have got shot up when they cleared this place last week,” another voice answered.
“Don't matter this whole neighborhood will be obliterated in a few days,” yet another voice said.
Glass crunched under boots and they strained their ears trying to tell if the sound was getting closer or further away. After what seemed like hours of sitting in silence, they slowly and carefully emerged from the closet. The house was dark and nothing stirred.
They walked back up the street, Alicia still swaying slightly on her feet. The moon was out and it was full, providing them with a good amount of light. Chris kept shooting her worried glances every few seconds. She guessed he was trying to decide if she was still too drunk to return home and concerned that he would get yelled at if he showed up with her reeking of alcohol.
"What do you think they meant by 'obliterated in a few days'?" he asked nervously.
"Dunno, but it doesn't sound good, does it? We should tell our parents."
"Ha. Like my dad will listen to anything," Chris grumbled.
"You're right. They never fucking listen. I bet they didn't even notice we were gone all day."
The lights in the house were out when they climbed up the porch railing onto the roof outside of Alicia's bedroom. She listened at the door and could hear quiet voices talking a few doors down in her mom's bedroom. She turned to Chris and shook her head.
“They're still up. Might want to wait a bit,” she told him.
He would have to pass her mom's room to get to Nick's bedroom where he had been camped out. She fell back onto her bed and the springs squeaked—that familiar comforting sound. A few minutes later, Chris flopped down at the opposite end of the bed, swinging his feet up next to her head.
“Ewww, I don't want your stinky feet in my face,” Alicia complained.
“Fine,” he grumbled. He sat up and turned around so his head was next to hers, “Better?”
She nodded and stared into his eyes for a minute. He looked back at her curiously. She wasn't sure what she saw there and he seemed to have the same uncertainty about whatever he was seeing in her eyes. The awkwardness soon became too much to bear and she rolled onto her side, facing the door. The bed shook as he rolled over too and she felt his shoulder blades brush against hers.
“Wake me when they're done talking,” he mumbled sleepily.
“Sure,” she muttered. She threw her arm over her eyes and passed out.