Pour Me a Drink

[Hollyquin†]

[[Hayley Kelly continued from Always The Better Option]]

Hayley paused for a moment outside of the alley to dig her pack of cigarettes from her bag, lighting one up her tiny purple Bic. She had told Kyle they were headed to the Promenade- and she hadn't lied, had she? Not technically. This back alley was part of the promenade, even if it was the part populated mainly by dumpsters and cigarette butts. Well, they were cutting class...okay, she was cutting class, he was just out on a free period, but even so, she felt it safer to stay as far away from prying eyes as possible. Besides, Hayley's idea of a good time never involved anything completely legal.

She looked around- the area was completely abandoned. For that she was grateful- the alley tended to be inhabited by whiny emo types during the after-school hours, and she figured it was entirely possible that a few of them had chosen the same time and place to cut school. As it was, they had the place to themselves. She propped herself up on the cleanest looking dumpster, dragging her bag up with her and motioning for Kyle to follow.

Hayley dug through her bag. The thing had been fairly organized until she dug through it for her copy of The Color of Magic earlier, back at school. Now everything was just sort of piled in with no real rhyme or reason to it, with the aforementioned book sitting neatly on top. Luckily the thing she was looking for was quite distinguishable from the rest- she reached one hand far into the bag and came up with a half-full Poland Spring water bottle, and then again with a two-thirds full bottle of cranberry juice. She opened the water bottle. It smelled...suspicious, to say the least.

"Well?" Hayley asked, grinning at Kyle. "Better than that crappy movie, am I right?"

[armeggedonCounselor†]

((Kyle Portman continued from Always The Better Option.))

Kyle wrinkled his nose slightly at the... interesting surroundings. Hayley had lead him here, and the fear he felt over her plans had been entirely justified. "This is less than legal, y'know. Better than the movie, yes. But still less than legal," he said, sitting on the dumpster next to her. He politely but pointedly covered his nose as she took a drag from her cigarette. He himself refused to smoke cigarettes, although marijuana was no issue to him. He just happened to personally dislike the smell of tobacco. The infamous water bottle had been dragged out. That was a bit of a failed description: the container was certainly a bottle, but it was also definitely not filled with water.

"Are we drinking vodka there, or is it a different clear liquor? Are there any other clear liquors? I should look that up...," he said, leaning over and kissing Hayley on the cheek, as soon as the cigarette was away from her face.

[Hollyquin†]

"Legality is overrated," Hayley said, taking a long drag off her cigarette and pointedly blowing the smoke away from Kyle. "Don't worry so much, darling. I've never been caught." That was true- sort of. She'd gotten trouble in the police twice- the first time was for shoplifting, and it wasn't even her who'd been caught doing it, and the second time was for underage drinking, and she happened to not be drinking that day- her friends were. Her friends had been caught without her, leading to their circle deciding that Hayley's consumption of alcohol was a magic charm that warded away the police.

Hayley finished the cigarette in record time, tossing the butt to the side and washing away that tobacco taste with a swig from the water bottle. Her face scrunched up involuntarily- despite her love of alcohol she hated the taste, particularly because she couldn't afford anything that tasted better than rubbing alcohol- and she took a gulp of the cranberry juice to chase. She felt the warming sensation travel through her almost immediately- Hayley's tolerance was exactly what you'd expect from a skinny, five-feet-tall white girl, that is to say, practically nonexistent- and she handed the bottle off to Kyle.

"It's vodka. My favorite. Always gotta keep a little bit nearby, in case class gets boring," she said with a smile. "And class is so often boring."

[armeggedonCounselor†]

Kyle smiled. He himself was less a stickler for the rules than his academic performance would lead people to believe. While he generally avoided getting in trouble with the law, the legality of his actions while alone was questionable, like any teen. He took the proffered bottle of vodka and drank a mouthful. It was foul stuff, like drinking rubbing alcohol. He grimaced, swallowed, and set the bottle on the flat top of the dumpster. He smiled at Hayley. She was chasing the alcohol with cranberry juice. Personally, he'd rather have it straight, with no chaser. Cranberry juice was way too dry for him; he found it disconcerting for a liquid to be simultaneously liquid and dry.

"Maybe class would be less boring if you paid more attention. I personally find most things fascinating. Except gym. I managed to get an exemption for that, though. And Chemistry is pretty boring too...."

[Hollyquin†]

Hayley made a face. "I've tried paying attention in class...It doesn't do much for me. We never seem to learn anything worth learning and we never have time for worthwhile debate...assuming I could find anyone worth debating against." She kept sipping on the cranberry juice for a while. She had a long and complicated history with cranberry juice and vodka- the two drinks seemed to make an appearance for most of the big moments in her life. She took the vodka back from Kyle and steadied herself for another, longer drink of the vodka- managing to control her facial expression this time- before going for another drink of cranberry juice. Her vision had begun to blur, very slightly. She waved a hand in front of her face, mainly for effect, and giggled softly.

"And I wanted to watch a zombie movie...Silly Hayley..." Hayley mumbled, not really to anyone. She reached out and tousled Kyle's hair, her hand slipping down to his face, where she touched his lips and then touched her hand back to her own. Her face was flushed pink, from the vodka and from the heat. She motioned for Kyle to join her on top of the dumpster. Not exactly the most romantic of spots, or of activities, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

[armeggedonCounselor†]

Kyle blinked slightly in surprise. "Geeze. I knew you definitely had a lower tolerance than me, but that's nearly ridiculous. No, that's absolutely ridiculous. You are ridiculous. In a good way, of course," he said, smiling as Hayley tousled his hair. He playfully nipped at her hand before getting up behind her on the dumpster. He began to rub her shoulders and down her back, probing at the muscles of her back. He planted a gentle kiss on the back of her neck, then reached out and took the vodka. He took a quick drink, more than he had earlier. He felt a little bit buzzed himself, but that was due as much to the closeness of the moment as to the alcohol. He continued the back massage exercise, occasionally kissing Hayley's neck and shoulders.

[Hollyquin†]

"I'm fully aware of my...ridiculousity. Trust me on that one," Hayley said with a sleepy smile. She had a marked tendency to make up words when she was drunk. Actually, she had a tendency to make up words in general, but that was mainly out of boredom and out of her opinion that the English language was not quite vivid enough to catch up with her thoughts. When she was drunk, Hayley's problem was that the words in her head seemed to go through a scrambler on the way to her mouth, and came out as something completely different than what she intended.

And suddenly none of that really mattered when Hayley felt Kyle's hands on her shoulders. She felt him kiss the back of her neck, and this time she wasn't quite able to contain her reaction- the sound that slipped from her mouth was something like "mrrrr", like a human version of a purr. She squirmed slightly, as though she wanted him to stop, which was immediately undermined by her pressing herself back against him. She cracked her neck, sighing as he massaged her back. "So, basically, you're really good at that." Even as she said that, she reached back for another sip of the vodka.

She did so very much like where this was going.

[armeggedonCounselor†]

Kyle smiled. "I am really good at that. My Aunt used to be a masseuse. She gave me pointers on how to give a really good massage for my sixteenth birthday. So... yeah," he said, speaking softly into Hayley's ear.

He wrapped his arms around her middle, passing the vodka into one of her hands. Astonishingly, considering how long they'd been sitting here (aka, not very long at all), the bottle was about 1/3 empty. He kissed the back of her neck again before leaning his chin on her shoulder.

((Again the blocks of writing attack.))

[Hollyquin†]

Hayley sighed, simultaneously conveying her happiness and her sleepiness. The third mouthful of vodka took a major toll on her headspace. She didn't normally drink vodka plain at all- she usually mixed a small amount into her cranberry juice and drank it that way- so she didn't really have a handle on how much was too much. Satisfied that she hadn't quite hit that too much mark yet, she put the bottle back on the dumpster.

"Awh, Kyle. You're such a...sweeeeeetheart," Hayley said dreamily, stretching that last word out. After a moment she shrugged him off, but only so she could turn around and throw her arms around him, kissing him passionately as she did so. An unfortunate side effect of this action was one of her feet hitting the as-of-yet-uncovered water bottle and sending it spinning towards the pavement.

"No-no-no-no-NO!" Hayley squeaked, jumping ungracefully off the dumpster and grabbing the bottle. A good half of the remnants of the bottle were now watering the weeds that grew between cracks in the pavement. She pouted an affected pout and looked up from the ground at Kyle. "Dammit...there are sober children in Kenya, you know. Wasting alcohol is a criminal offense...I probably shouldn't drink anymore, anyway." She laughed. "The rest is yours. Well...maybe I'll have another sip. A little one. Uh...help me up first, though?" For she was sprawled on the ground, and considering her current level of coordination, trying to stand up would only end in disaster.

[armeggedonCounselor†]

((Sorry for how long this took. I was geeking out over Nintendo's E3 lineup.))

Kyle laughed, cutting it short quickly with an embarrassed cough. He hadn't meant to laugh at Hayley's clumsiness, it had just happened. He slid off the dumpster, stumbling slightly when he landed. He grabbed Hayley by the wrists and pulled her onto her feet, stepping into the pull so he could catch her. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a quick kiss. He also took the bottle of vodka from her and set it on the dumpster. Better safe than sorry, after all.

"So, are you ready to stop getting the weeds drunk?" he said, smiling at her.

[Hollyquin†]

Hayley probably should have been offended by Kyle's laugh, but hell, how could she be? Number one, she had a sense of humor, particularly at herself, and number two, she was drunk, which made everything funny. So she ended up laughing along with him as he picked her up off the floor. Only then did she become aware that the vodka soaking the floor had left a wet spot on the left knee of her jeans. "Ahh, fuck..." she mumble-cursed. "That's gonna smell..." Kyle's lips touching hers provided a good distraction from that fact, though, and she threw her arms around him as she kissed him back.

"The weeds wish they could be as drunk as me," Hayley said, grinning, realizing on some level that that made absolutely no sense. She reached up with one hand to stroke Kyle's hair. At that moment, she could only think of how happy she was to have found a boy like Kyle. Hayley had a reputation around Bayview, and as a result it could be difficult to find a boy who wanted her for anything but a quick fuck. And even those who tried to get to know her often ended up pushed away by cynical Hayley. But Kyle was different, she was sure. Her sexuality seemed to make him more...nervous than anything else. Which was endearing, somehow.

Hayley climbed awkwardly back up on the dumpster, draping her legs over Kyle's shoulders and taking another sip of vodka, taking care to cover the bottle this time. "I do love you, you know," she said sleepily. And regretted it almost immediately.

[armeggedonCounselor†]

Kyle blinked slightly, instantly imagining all possible consequences of that statement. It was such an innocuous set of words, which nevertheless held great weight. Of course, it was entirely plausible, and perhaps most likely, that Hayley had only said that she loved him because she was drunk, although he didn't think she was that drunk. He himself steadfastly avoided saying it. It certainly wasn't something to be haphazardly tossed around, at least in his opinion. He smiled at Hayley, his gut telling him that she was probably regretting saying it. He wasn't the sort to keep his views hidden, so he was almost absolutely certain he had mentioned it at some point. He climbed onto the dumpster next to her, putting his arm around her and smiling.

"I'm sure that that was a mere slip of the tongue. Still, I appreciate the sentiment, and reciprocate accordingly," he said, slipping into a slightly more polysyllabic language, due to alcohol and mild discomfort.

[Hollyquin†]

Hayley sighed. Had she been high rather than drunk, she would have had to accuse herself of harshing her own mellow. She suddenly felt a bit less drunk then she had a moment previously, an automatic reaction to the sudden tension in the air. They had a fantastic moment going and she had to go and ruin it with that little, stupid word. Love.

Hayley bit her lip. Fuck. Love. Do I love him? Probably not. So why did I say I did...? Because I'm drunk, right? And because... A tear was forming in her eye. She wiped it away impatiently- the alcohol was making her overemotional, and besides, she didn't want to make this moment any more awkward than it was. ...Because I haven't been this happy in a long time. Because this feels like something new. Something different. But happiness doesn't mean love. Hayley, you really are a bloody idiot sometimes

Hayley laughed a small laugh, avoiding eye contact with Kyle. "Sorry. You always get so sesquipedalian when you're uncomfortable." She rapped him playfully on the head. "Consider this a reality retcon. That didn't just happened. You heard nothing." She punctuated that last statement with a Jedi-mind-trick hand wave, laughing lightly and a bit more honestly this time.

[armeggedonCounselor†]

((Ironically, I was going to use that particular word, but I figured it was too obscure. (I don't think that's really irony, but you're required to say that it's ironic. It's in the internet codes.)))

Kyle smiled, pulling Hayley into his lap. "I heard nothing. These are not the droids I am looking for. Let these people pass. Glory to the Empire and Lord Vader. That last one is actually not a line from the movie, but I felt it was a necessary progression," he said, hugging her around the middle. The awkwardness was eased slightly already, by the fact that they so smoothly eased their way around the problem.

"Oh, also, +15 bonus points for using the word sesquipedalian in context. Double plus good, although Big Brother and the thought police would not approve. Proper use of that particular word requires too much thinking," he said, smiling and simultaneously increasing his reading geek cred.

[Hollyquin†]

Hayley could only laugh. "Christ...see, it's moments like these that remind me why I said I loved you two minutes ago! Except for the fact that that didn't happen. Obviously." She had to stop speaking to laugh a bit more, rubbing her eyes and inadvertently smudging her makeup in the process- under most circumstances she'd immediately stop whatever she was doing to fix her makeup, but under the circumstances she trusted that Kyle wouldn't care. In fact, she turned around to face him.

"Seriously, though. Like...If I were sent to Room 101 I'd be confronted with a boy telling me he loved me. ...That, or scorpions." Hayley smiled sleepily. She had the power to make literary references even when she was drunk...and even when she was making very little sense. "You are pretty great, though. If it was you in that room they'd be seriously misjudging my mental state..." She snuggled against him. "Am I making sense? Stop me when I stop making sense..."