STRANGER

chapter three ; joyful car ride
[ season one - episode one ]

   THIS IS REALLY not how I expected this night to turn out. I expected to stay up late in Gwen's house watching dozens of movies while we ate a load of junk. But no, instead I'm sitting in the back of Jeremiah's red Jeep — in the back, I mean the very back. The trunk.

I don't even know how I manage to fit in here, but I do. I have to rely on my firm hold on the headrests in front of me to make sure I don't fly forward whenever the brakes are used.

Currently, my eyes stare out of the rear window. It's nearly one a.m, yet I woke up at twelve in the morning yesterday. I've been up for a full 25 hours, and I feel the fatigue under my eyes. I could fall asleep right now, but I know I can't.

Everyone in the car is dead silent. Not a single word is being said. I know for them it's probably comfortable, but for me it isn't. They should know me, but instead they assume me to be a stranger. I oftenly look at my phone in hopes to see a message from my dad, but I think he's gotten a hotel for the night or something because I just know he's dead tired too. He got up an hour earlier than me.

Jeremiah is in the driver's seat, being the designated driver of the group. Beside him, in the passenger seat, is Belly, who hasn't said a word to anyone. She just stares out the window too, and I don't blame her. Behind them is Conrad, Gwen and Steven. All in order. Gwen is in the middle, blatantly unconscious as light snores sound from her. Steven seems pissed and Conrad just seems... out of it.

It feels strange being with them again when they're ten times bigger... and unhappy. But they're all probably really tired too. It's been a long day.

We've only been in the car for three minutes, and we just had another two minutes to get back and that was it.

A groan sounds from the middle back seat. I sit up straight away as I watch Gwen lift her head up. "What the fuck happened now?" she raspily asks, her words slurring. I can't see the front of her face, so I have no idea how her face contorts as she speaks.

However, I see her glance around as her head moves. Despite seeing both Conrad and Steven, she mumbles, "This doesn't look like Noah's room."

Judging by the side of Steven's face, he's repulsed. "Gross, I do not need to hear about your love life."

Gwen tilts her head, and I don't think she even realizes I'm here. "Aw, turn that frown upside down, sunshine. There's nothing to be sad about," she slurs as she lifts her index finger, poking the boy's cheek. She childishly giggles.

His face fixes into a frown as he smacks her finger away. "Don't touch me. I'm fine," he grumbles. Gwen gasps dramatically, and I have to scrunch my nose to control my second hand embarrassment I have for her.

"You sit on a throne of lies, good sir," she replies in a mocking tone, and I nearly laugh, knowing the reference instantly.

"Did you just quote Buddy from Elf?" Conrad wonders, his voice raspy.

Gwen giggles. "Hey, Conrad," she greets in a sing-song voice.

"Hey Gwensie." They give each other a high five.

Good God, why am I here? I finally lean forward and poke my head in between the pair. "How drunk are you two?" I ask, and Gwen visibly jolts in her seat.

"God, you're like a pop-up book from hell," she gasps. "Where the hell did you come from?" She has broadened eyes as she blinks repetitively.

I blink in return to copy her as I tilt my head, unimpressed. "Quit quoting things from shows. I know you got that from Gilmore Girls," I sigh exasperatedly, drifting my eyes over to the source of happiness in the car. "Seriously, what's going on with you?" When I ask this, I think I forget that none of them remember me. I ask it so casually as if I've known him for most of my life... which I have, but none of them know that.

Steven meets my eyes and shakes his head. "I'm fine. It's whatever," he mutters.

Conrad suddenly pipes up, "He's crying because he misses his girlfriend." Once again, I nearly laugh. He still makes the same jokes, even as intoxicated as he is currently. I notice Steven sends him a harsh glare, not in the mood for jokes, to which Conrad raises his hands in surrender.

Gwen giggles more like a kid on Christmas morning at the interaction. She shifts in her seat randomly. Then, out of nowhere, she nudges Steven's knee. The boy raises his eyebrows at her. "What?"

She ignores him and nudges his knee again. "What?!" he asks, his voice raising with frustration.

"Move your knee. You're in my space," she murmurs, hitting his knee once more.

"I am not in your space."

"Yes, you are," she corrects, pointing down to their touching knees. "You're touching me, which means you're in my bubble."

He scoffs loudly. "Oh, I am not in your bubble!" She smacks his knee, and honestly, I wish I had snacks. This is entertaining. "Ow! What the hell?" His eyes are wide as he stares at her like she's a crazy person.

"You are manspreading," she grumbles. He blows raspberries in response, entirely fed up with her bullshit.

I maneuver away from in between Conrad and Gwen and position myself in between the two bickering toddlers instead. "Can you two please stop arguing like children? You're making my sanity drop to the negatives and I'm sure I'll grab my keys and rip my eardrums out with them," I smile falsely, sending the pair a particular look.

I watch as Steven raises his finger slowly, and I let my eyes follow it until it stops beside Gwen's head. "Well, she started it." I blink, unamused at the boy.

Gwen pushes his finger away. "I did not—"

"Where are we dropping you guys?" Jeremiah speaks up from the front. I avert my gaze away from the toddlers and to the rearview mirror, where I see him already looking at me briefly.

I sigh and lean back in the tight space, "Just to Gwen's house. I'll make sure she's okay." I bite down on my lip for a second before I speak up again. "I'm so sorry for the trouble. I know this must be a pain cramming us both in here with all of you guys." I send him a small smile, hoping he can see the sorrow I have in my expression.

He returns the smile. "Don't worry about it, Star," he replies.

"Star?" Gwen sounds beyond confused, and I feel my eyes widen as I shoot my eyes over to her. I really don't want her to ruin my plan. "Who the fuck is Star? Last time I checked, stars are in the sky and there is no one named Star in this car— Hey! That rhymed." I sigh with relief. She ends up rambling instead, thank God.

Steven watches her and chuckles slightly. "Dude, you're rambling," he whispers.

"What?"

"You're rambling."

"Oh," she realizes and leans back in her seat. "Oops." She then stares up at the sky through the sunroof. Steven chuckles some more.

I rest my forehead on the back of Gwen's headrest, feeling just about comfortable to maybe sleep for another single minute since we're only around the corner from Gwen's house.

To our dismay, I see the same blue lights I saw earlier through my eyelids. They shoot open as my heart begins to pound in my throat. My head shoots to the side, and I falter as I spot the cops... again. The siren is loud, and it makes me want to cover my ears.

"Oh fuck, the cops," I just about hear Gwen curse.

Jeremiah exhales heavily as he stops the car. I watch intently as the officer walks over to the side of the car, shining a flashlight through the window. "Have you kids been drinking?"

God, could this day get any fucking worse.

...

Gwen and I can't even go back to her house. Her mother is out of town for the night on a date, and because Gwen and I are only 16, we have to stay in the very house the rest of the kids are dropped off to: The summer house.

I want to crawl into a hole and die. All I want is to go to sleep? Is that so much to ask for? Why is the world out to get me today?

I stand awkwardly against the wall in the main hallway in the Beck summer house. I have my arms folded across my chest, slightly cold from the late night breeze blowing through the open front door where the two officers stand. Beside my feet is Gwen, who has her back against the side of the bench Conrad is sitting on. Her legs are sprawled out on the floor in front of her, and she looks so intoxicated that I'm surprised the officers aren't doing anything about it.

Belly is standing in the corner of the room, wrapping herself with a jacket I don't think is hers. It looks too big to be hers. Next to her is her brother, Steven. He just looks bored... and he's staring down at the ground. Jeremiah is doing the same, leaning his right side of his body against the opposite wall I'm leaning against. Conrad looks done with everything, holding his head in his hand as he massages his temples.

"Officers, thank you," Laurel Park says politely, her arms wrapped around her petite body. "It won't happen again, I can promise you that much. And I'll make sure the girls get home safely once their parents return."

"Tell Mr. Fisher the chief wants to set up a tee time when he gets back in town," the male officer states.

"Absolutely," Laurel nods. "Sorry again for all the trouble. Have a good night, Officers."

I watch nervously as Laurel bids them a goodbye while they step out the door. She shuts it carefully behind them, being quick to spin around with a stern look across her face.

She hasn't aged. Not one bit since the last time I saw her.

"How could you guys be so irresponsible?" She's mainly speaking to the four kids that actually live in the place, but I can't help but imagine she's lecturing Gwen and I too. I want to be yelled at for even agreeing to go in the first place. I feel like I should be disciplined.

"Mom, it wasn't a big deal," Steven complains, stepping forward in front of everyone. Gwen looks up at him with a bright, tipsy grin on her lips. "Alright, seriously. The cops were just looking to break up the bonfire."

"Not a big deal?" Laurel raises her brows.

"Yes."

"I would say getting picked up by the cops for underage drinking and having someone in the back of the car without a seatbelt is a pretty big deal, Steven," she retorts.

Gwen begins to sniff as if she can smell the most pleasant thing ever. However, all I can smell is marijuana. God, I hope she's not finding the smell of weed nice. "Is it just me, or can I smell sweet, sweet cannabis?" she asks, the biggest beam across her face ever. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I kick her leg. "Ow--- what the fuck?"

I whip the upper half of my body to the side to face her as I push my index finger against my lip. She sticks her tongue out at me before facing back to the Conklin mother and son.

"Yes, Gwen," Steven shares a brief glance with the girl on the ground before turning back to his mother, "you can smell cannabis. Were— were you guys smoking tonight?"

"What?" Everyone stares at the woman. Her face goes red slightly from embarrassment. "Keep your voice down. Susannah's asleep on the couch." I don't say this outloud, but Steven definitely wasn't yelling, but Laurel was.

"Wh— I wasn't yelling," Steven defends himself, "you— you were—" he cuts himself off when his best friend stepped forward beside him.

"Just so you know, Laurel, I— I didn't drink," Jeremiah claims. "I was the DD. I swear."

"Well, you were driving, so why didn't you make sure you didn't have someone in the back where bags are supposed to go, not people?" she asks, but she doesn't give Jeremiah a chance to answer as she turns to Conrad. "You're the oldest. What the hell's gotten into you?" Then she turns to Gwen on the floor. "Same with you, Gwen, what happened to you? This isn't like you." I see Gwen shrink back, even as drunk as she is. Laurel looks up at her daughter. "And when did you leave the house without telling anybody? And what in the world are you wearing?"

"It's Taylor's," Belly clarifies, pushing herself off the wall as she covers her front with the jacket she's wearing self-consciously. "And why am I the only one who's not allowed to go out?"

"It's not that you're not allowed, it's that you should have told us you were going. How did you even get there?"

"I walked," she answers quietly, avoiding eye contact.

"Jesus, you know better than to walk that far down the beach alone late at night!"

"Can you stop treating me like a kid?"

"If you want to be treated like an adult, you need to act like one."

"Then maybe you guys should too," Conrad finally speaks, eyeing the woman from the corner of his eyes. He shrugs casually, as if he knows he stands correct. And maybe he does, I don't know?

"What does that mean?" Laurel questions, earning another shrug in response. She turns to face the rest of the other four kids. "I hope you realize this night could have ended a lot differently if your family wasn't your family." Then she turns to Gwen. "And you're lucky that you're close friends with this family." And then me. "Even though it was stupid and dangerous, you're lucky you were in the car with them."

I nod instantly, "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

I feel everyone's gaze land on me, and I feel embarrassed. I know what they're thinking, too. I have nothing to really be sorry for. I hadn't drank anything and I'm not Laurel nor Susannah's responsibility.

"We're all sorry, Laur," Jeremiah says, sounding genuine.

"Just..." she seals her eyes for a second, feeling exhausted, "go to bed, guys." She faces me again before the rest leave. "Do you have anywhere to go tonight? You can't return home unless a parent is there."

I shake my head. "No. He's back in Virginia getting the rest of our things. I just moved here today. I was supposed to stay with Gwen for the night."

"Damn, you're screwed then, because I don't think we're allowed to go back home— Oh no, am I homeless?" Gwen freaks out suddenly. I start to wonder if beer was actually the only thing she had tonight or if she was drugged or something. I start to worry for her, because her pupils are dilated anyway, anyone can tell that from a mile away.

"No, Gwen, you're not homeless," I answer quietly. "C'mon, get up—"

"Oh God, I think I'm dying," Gwen holds her hand over her chest while her other hand pats her thighs. "I can't feel my legs. Oh God, guys, I can't feel my legs. What do I do?"

I swallow thickly, slowly turning back to Laurel. She sighs heavily as she tells her kids once again to go to bed. She walks over to Gwen and I. "You'll have to stay here for the night. Thanks for actually being a responsible teenager. Seems we don't get very many of them, do we, Gwen?"

"No, not really," Gwen's still panicking as she answers in a rush. "I'm beginning to question my choices, Laurel."

"You should be," she says. She rips her eyes away from Gwen and toward me again. "What's your name, honey?"

"Uh—"

"Oh, God, the whole fucking universe is spinning," Gwen leans forward, her hands gripping onto her stomach suddenly. Laurel curses under her breath as she quickly rushes to the kitchen to grab a bag or something. I crouch down beside my best friend as Laurel hurries back into the hallway with a plastic bag. Gwen grabs onto it instantly, and I hold her hair back while she throws up whatever contents are within her stomach. I cringe, looking away while she does so.

She throws up for a solid three minutes. Laurel goes back to the kitchen to get some water for the girl.

After the throwing up ends after what feels like an eternity, I can see tears gloss Gwen's eyes as she looks at me. "I'm being so fucking for real right now, I think I drank something with poison in it."

I raise my eyebrows skeptically at her. I know for fact she hasn't been poisoned, but the whole aspect of having something in her drink that wasn't supposed to be in there sounds true. "You haven't been poisoned, Gwen," I comfort, running my fingers soothingly through her curly hair. "You'll be fine. You just need to sleep it off."

"Dude, I can't feel my legs at all— what do I do?" Gwen's eyes brim with more tears, the frustration and almost desperation evident in her voice.

I frown upon seeing my dearest friend cry — I've never seen her like this. I turn to face Laurel, who's equally as concerned as I am. She feels my eyes burn into the side of hers and faces me, sending me a single nod to answer my question. She was drugged, and I know exactly who it was.

After ten minutes of Gwen crying, I tell Laurel that she can go back to bed and that I can handle her. It took a lot of persuasion, but it works. I end up having to cradle Gwen in my own arms to calm her down, and it works. She falls asleep easily, the crying making her eyes heavy.

I look up at the clock on the wall. It says 1:47 a.m. I'm surprised I haven't passed out either. I shift to the side as I set Gwen's head atop a pillow I grabbed from the bench beside us.

I sigh heavily, laying down across the floor fully from lack of energy. I don't care where I am or what I'm laying on. I just want to shut my eyes and sleep. I don't care if I wake up surrounded by the people I once knew a few years ago, if anything, I'd be happy.

But I don't think it's even been two minutes before I hear shuffling beside me. My brows pinch together as I slowly open my eyes.

I jump up from shock and fear after seeing someone lean over me and Gwen. I curse under my breath. "Jesus!" I whisper shout, however I soon laugh as I acknowledge how much I reacted. "Sorry, wasn't expecting to see someone the moment I opened my eyes."

"Nah, you're good," Jeremiah waves me off, two pillows under one arm while the other has a blanket. "I don't think you're gonna wanna sleep on the cold, hard floor all night, Star." A humorous smile plays on his lips.

I laugh half-heartedly. "I don't really mind. I had to sleep on the floor in my old place last night anyway. It's not that bad — besides, I gotta be here for Gwen. I'm technically her new parent."

"She always gets like this when she's drunk," he points out as I stand up. "So, how long have you known her? We don't really see her often but she's never pointed out having a new friend around or anything."

I purse my lips and nod, "Uh, for a while, I guess." I fold my arms across my chest, silent for a split second before I realize I'm supposed to take the pillows and blankets. "Oh, uh, do you want me to take those?"

"Oh, yeah." He offers me them, to which I gratefully take with a small 'thank you.' I replace the cushion Gwen's head is resting on with the pillow as well as putting my own pillow beside hers.

"This is, uh, kind of an awkward place to go to sleep... next to the front door..." I mumble as I set down the blanket across my friend. Jeremiah nods in agreement as I turn back to him. "I'm sorry you got in trouble for having me in the back of your car. Actually, I'm sorry for all of this. We shouldn't have to crash here like this. It's not fair on your parents."

While I speak, Jeremiah shakes his head religiously and laughs. "No, no, don't be sorry. I offered you the ride. And, trust me, my mom will be all in your hair in the morning. She'll see Gwen and start interrogating her, acting like she's her mom or something. But then after, when she sees you, she'll never stop asking questions. One of them, I don't know, being your name?"

He has a playful grin on his lips as he tries to smoothly get my name to fall out of my mouth. I chuckle and shake my head. "I'm not gonna let it slip, Cerulean."

He tilts his head and lifts a single brow in question. "Cerulean?"

"Shade of blue," I answer instantly and nonchalantly. He seems more confused by the second. In clarification, I briefly point to his eyes. "Your eyes. Cerulean." I feel like I've made it awkward as he smiles, nodding in understanding. Then my mind repeats a certain question, and I don't think twice to ask it. "Where did 'Star' come from, by the way?"

"Well, Star, since you won't tell me your true name, I thought I'd give you something that comes to mind when I think of you. And since you have a fascination with the stars, I think the rest is self explanatory," he explains, to which I nod. His hands then slide into his pockets casually. "My name's Jeremiah."

It feels like someone's stabbed me in the stomach again, knowing that I know him, when in his eyes I'm just a girl he met on a beach admiring the stars. I brush a few strands of hair behind my ear before I hear a few murmurs sounding from Gwen.

She stirs awake, her eyes drifting all over the place. "God, did I run a marathon or something?" she asks rhetorically. "Why is my mouth so dry? I don't fucking know—" she pauses, her eyes landing on Jeremiah and I as we stare down at her. "Oh, hi Jeremiah." She has a wide, sweet smile again. I think she's forgotten that she can't feel her legs, because she doesn't mention it.

"Hi, Gwen," he replies, a polite smile on his lips too.

"Do you mind being a good golden retriever and fetching me some water?" she asks with puppy eyes, pouting her bottom lip.

He shares a glance with me, and we both break out into chuckles before he nods, already walking away to get what the girl wants. "At your service, m'lady," he salutes.

"You, Jeremiah Fisher, are a pure soul!" Gwen whisper-shouts, remembering to be quiet somehow because the rest of the house were sure to be in bed or asleep.

I smile down at her, glad she isn't upset anymore. I sit back down onto the laminate flooring, crossing my legs as I rub Gwen's shoulder shortly. I watch as Jeremiah walks back into the hallway with a glass of water for her. She carefully sits up as she takes the glass and brings it to her lips.

"Aren't you a gentleman?" I joke as Gwen snorts, the water going up her nose. Gently, she whacks my arm with the back of her arm. Jeremiah laughs at the both of us.

"Well, I should be going off to bed now since it's two a.m," he informs us, Gwen setting the glass of water down beside her as she lays back down and wraps herself in the blanket. "Sleep well, Ladies."

"You too, Cerulean," I reply as he turns to walk up the stairs.

"Yeah, goodnight, Doggy," Gwen slurs, giggling at her own comment.

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words: 4139
26th may 2024
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i am on a mf roll :p

gwen has me cackling.