Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Butterflies & The Net ❯ Chapter 3: Little Victories�Big Doubts (& A Night with the Guys) ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Butterflies & the Net by iloveanimecartoons

Genre(s): Psychological/Angst/Hentai/Drama/Romance
Rating: MATURE
Latest Revision: August 4, 2007

A/N: Now, it's time to meet some of Solya's peeps and dig a little more into her past via the silent ponderings of one of her closest buddies. Hope you all are enjoying this! The plot thickens. And away we go...

A/N 2(examples): `Sprint SUX!'= thoughts bold and italicized words = Flashbacks/Dream Sequences “I like pie.”= talking ./' = singing

Chapter 3: Little Victories—Big Doubts(& A Nightwith the Guys)

“Road kill CafÃ©—you kill `em, we grill `em, “Jerrod yawned into his phone. `Too friggin' early AM…death, kidnapping, hit the Lotto, owes me money…those better be the only reasons someone's calling me at…5:49 in the eva luvin' morning!' Jerrod thought, vehemently, “that, or so—'

“Let's go out to eat—my treat!” Solya yelled into the phone, effectively cutting off Jerrod's train of thought.

`Yup…Solya,' Jerrod confirmed in his head. “Good almost morning, Ms. Hyper.”

“Now, Jerrod…you know your day doesn't start right if I don't call you to make it bright!”

“Um, Sol…we were 10 and that was when I had the flu for two and a half weeks and I only said that to make you stop feeling guilty, “Jerrod commented, recalling the pledge he made that all she had to do was call him and his day would get better, therefore speeding up his recovery—and alleviating her guilt and cutting off the nearly `Mother Henish-like behavior she exhibited to the point of making him want to act like he was sleeping every other time she visited, though he never told her that. And he never would, either, preferring to keep his more “functional” organs in the exact place they were intended to be. To hurt Solya was a no-no—she reacted rather…violently, he recalled. But, to this day, she swears she made him get the flu by insisting he play longer in the snow with her after the sun had set and he had lost his hat and one of his gloves. “And, before you say it, I had the right to say no, Solya. It's not like you put a gun to my head or anything—I did have a choice, yanno. So, don't y—”

“I'll let that go…for now—let's go to Salsa Rita's, today! And, yes, they actually have healthy fare there…” she cut in, impatiently.

“Hmmmm…sounds familiar. Where is it?” Jerrod pondered.

“It should be—we went there after you got your license and we rode off to Columbia. But, now there's one on Baltimore Street, across from that nail salon we always walk past to get to Mickey D's,” she answered.

“Oh, I saw then working on that building a couple weeks ago—didn't know hat it was, yet, though.”

Solya giggled.

“Special occasion or have you just missed me terribly these past,” Jerrod asked, stopping to check the time, “…ten hours, 51 minutes, and 41—no—42 seconds?”

“Wowwwww…yeah…hobbies…get one…soon.” Solya laughed

“Hardy-mu-friggin'-har, Sol. So, which one?” Jerrod reiterated dryly.

“Special occasion, of course—I lost 12 pounds in the last 2 weeks, PB! Go, me! Go, me! Go, go, and go, me! It's my birfday! Not a holiday! That's right, ch'all! Don't playas hate! Whoot! Whoot! Whoot! Whoot! Whoot! Wh-whoomp, there it is! Okay, I'm done—no, one more! Whoo Hoo! Okay, that's it…” she cheered, then relented watching Jerrod roll his eyes in an exasperated, if not tickled, way.

“Did you just say birfday—with an `f'? Oh well. You…Sol…that's great! That's…that's…wow! Bump that! I'm treating you!” Jerrod announced proudly.

“D'Okay! Sure! Works for me! But, it's really early in the morning, so you may want to consider doing this closer to noon.”

`No, she did not… Ah, hell…yes, she did.' Jerrod laughed to himself. `This is Solya we're talking about here.'

Jerrod shook his head and smirked. “Okay, I'll pick you up at 11:30, okay? I hate you,” he agreed, finishing with their odd, long ago decided pact/wording for all things even slightly “mushy”. And, that pact? Never say “I love you”—under penalty of beat down.

“Oh, but I abhor you, don't cha know?” Solya returned with a laugh in her tone, hanging up the phone with a goofy grin on her face. “Now, off to bed.”

As she crawled into her bed, she started thinking about the night before. She let out a deep breath. It'd been a long night, with constant cravings and numerous trips to the snack cabinet, only to just barely resist at the last minute. Chewing on sugarless gum, lots of cups of water and Crystal Light—and an entry into her food journal—as a motivation to deter her from cheating. `A long night, indeed.'

“PB's been so cool about letting me call him anytime I want—he's been so supportive and helpful these past few weeks.” `Actually…' she thought, skimming her food journal, `Wow! It's been 2 months and 4 days already! My, how time flies when you're starving yourself!'

Grinning a little wider, she added up the losses—41 pounds! `Heyyyy! I just lost a preschooler…or a runway model. Ok, that was a good one!'

She sat her journal down and did the Running Man—for about 40 seconds. “Okay, still out of shape,” she huffed, heart beating erratically, chest burning a little, “No more of that.”

Solya stopped to reread her last 2 pages, where she wrote of her trails with cravings and the fluctuations in weight. `It should've been 57 pounds, but I got lazy on my regimen a couple times. Damn it!' she scolded herself, `Water weight, my ass! I exercised my heart out! Those sore limbs and muscles aren't crying out for Icy Hot for nothing! Shit! What can I do better?'

Resolving not to give up—as she often did when things got frustrating, too, scary, too complicated, or too hard—she skimmed the small journal again, looking to fix her errors. Ten minutes later, she had it. `See, this is why a hard head makes a soft and—in my case—lumpy, oversized behind! I should've gotten rid of all my leftover “Not Allowed” grub, like my nutritionist told me. I mean, look at all these slipups!' With a frustrated groan, she forced herself to view her failures. `Five weeks ago, a Reese's Big Cup at 1 am…three and a half weeks ago, 2 Hot Pockets and a Cherry Pepsi at 4:12 pm, before a light dinner 3 hours later…two and a half weeks ago, a Shrimp Cheese steak Sub, Onion Rings and a Banana Milkshake as an all-day meal; then 3 days of nothing but celery and water. Yeah, I ended up losing weight that week, but if I keep up eating like that, my metabolism's gonna get out of whack and I'll start gaining weight anyway. Man, physics suck!'

She nearly balled the journal up. It irked all the living hell out of her recalling what her nutritionist taught her about bingeing and starving. And, even though she could argue that she really hadn't eaten more than what she used to account as an “average meal” and nothing more that day, she knew she was being utterly stubborn and hard headed and that was the reason she didn't get better results that week. `No, you just wanted to do what you wanted to do, huh, Solya. Sad.'

“Okay, that's it! It's official! Tonight's Guy Night!” she resolved, quoting the event she held, well, whenever she wanted to hang with the fellas and blow off steam. Only this time, she was emptying out everything bad for her and letting them eat it.

`Guilt-free disposal and none of my money goes to waste—heh, works for me!' she thought as she got back into bed, checking the time. “Oh crap! Time's-a-wastin'! I need to get some Zs, before Jer comes over!” And, not 10 minutes later, she was snuggled comfortable in her favorite pillow with a nice little puddle of drool forming.

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BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

`Whozat?'

-EEP! BEEP! BEEP!

`No thank you…we don't want any…'

-EEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

`Um…um…ummmm…I'm an atheist—leave me `lone!'

-EEP! BEEP! BEEP!

“Son of a building block—huh?” Solya finally muttered to herself groggily, as a persistent tickle irked her nose and the utterly loud sound FINALLY ended. `GAWD, I hate that alarm!'

Cracking her eyes, and wiping the crunch out the corners, she took in the smug smirk of her best friend, lying on her bed with his finger inches from her nose. “I've been known to bite people for less—you might want to move that finger,” Solya warned, though the yawn that leant her voice an exhausted air cut the threat out of most of that statement.

“Ahhhh, the Mad Over sleeper awakens!” Jerrod narrated to his imaginary audience.

Her response was a rolling of her eyes and a mumbled “Yeah, yeah, yeah…” that she quickly muffled as she cupped her mouth and tested her breath. `Oh, goodie—minty fresh! And D told me not to fall asleep with a Listerine Pocket strip in my mouth. Score one for Amarante ingenuity!'

“Ooookay, Sol…but, you must admit, I'm right and you did oversleep”

“No, I didn't! It's only 10:10 AM, PB.”

“Check the sky, Sol—try PM.”

“Oh, shit! I musta rushed to set it and pushed PM mode by accident. But, wait. Why didn't you call me to wake me up?”

“I did—7 times—no answer. And that's 7 times each—cell and home number.”

“Ohhhh, um, had the internet on and forgot to turn it off—man, I need Broadband—and,” Solya paused, looking at her cells' text messages. She sighed, noting a SERVICE INTERRUPTION WARNING message for non-payment. `Okay, I really need to start reading these thingies, sometimes.' With a grimace, she continued, “Oh shit. I guess I shoulda called and confirmed that late payment, huh? Never mind. I see I forgot to turn the ringer back on after I came from my last therapy session, yesterday. My bad, PB.”

“No big. I ain't stressing' it. We can still hang out here or at my crib. Whatcha say?”

`Hmmm. It has been a while since me and the guys pulled an all-nighter. I wonder…' Smacking her friends' arm away, as his index finger lightly scraped the outer nostril of his nose—to which, he just chuckled, the big nerd—Solya spoke of her plan. “First of all, eww, man! Don't touch me till you douse your hand in Clorox—repeatedly! Jer…it's time to gather the night owls! I feel like chilling' out!”

“Okay, but even for some of the more spontaneous of the crew, this really is kind of short notice.”

“Well, okay, for most of them, yeah, you have a point. But I know Larry, Peacock, Crazy, Juan—and, maybe Trev—are usually the 3 Bs.”

Jerrod nodded, conceding her reasoning. “Oh, don't I know it—Bored, Broke, Busted. Though, since Crazy got that job at that Liquor store, maybe we should change that to Big, Bloated, and Beer-Bellied—he's been hooking everyone up since his 2nd month. So, you calling or me? Wait, what's up with the grub? Pizza again?”

“No, actually I'm gonna whip up some stuff. Just have Trev and Crazy bring us some beers—a case each'll do. And make sure that I get some Bud Light,” Solya added, with a marked upturning of her lips, “though I'd prefer Bud Ice”

“And people in Hell want Ice Water—you'll live.”

“You're so mean.”

“No, I'm so real. You asked for help and you got it—no backing out now that ou see I can't be swayed.”

“Yeah, yeah, friggin' yeah—hey, how's it going with that new chick you were telling me about?”

Jerrod rolled his eyes, grabbing Solya and kissing her soundly on the cheek…which, of course, she wiped off, furiously. “You know you're the only woman for me,” at Solya's sudden change in facial color—a subtle, but noticeable pinking—and a quick aversion of eye contact, he went on with a chuckle, “No other woman can do for me what you can—beat me up in wrestling, make a mean grilled cheese sandwich, and name all the men in the NFL ever—one of a kind and I'm your best friend! You've got such great taste, Deja!”

“I asked you not to call me that.”

“Sorry—Solya Deja Amarante—I shall call you “Mud”,” Jerrod goaded, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Um, ill! Get offa me, Jerrod—your breath smells like train smoke!” she taunted, wiggling to loosen his hold.

“Then, that would be your fault. I brushed my teeth before I came over. Then, I ate some of your “Mystery Grub” in the fridge. Good, but mad spicy. You're trying to kill me, aren't you?”

“Hey, no one told you to eat my food…Nimrod. And don't think I can't tell you're still trying to change the subject—how is she?”

“Your concern is heartwarming, Sol,” he drawled, “And she's a'ight—pretty, not a total airhead, got her High School Diploma and all of her teeth. She's…okay…just, not “soul mate” material.”

Solya sat still, then—cheeks puffed out, face red.

“Laugh and I'll tickle you till you piss straight through your bed,” Jerrod threatened. “Yes, I do believe in a special someone for everyone.”

“Doesn't mean they have to have a partner, though. Right?” Solya interjected, stating her belief—for the bajillionth time—that not all people were meant to have someone and that she was meant to be alone. “I mean I have all I need in Pops, D, Jazmin and you. People really can be okay with their own circle of friends, PB—I am.”

“If you say so, Solya,” Jerrod surrendered, likely to avoid an hour-long discussion on the topic. “Oh, look! There's my cell! Time to call the fellas!”

“Wuss,” Solya muttered, knowing Jerrod would never get the last word and knowing that he knew it, too. “And cashews, too, PB!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

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“Crazy! Trevino! Gimme some dap, y'all! Hey, y'all bring me some cashews this time?” Solya greeted her 1st two arrivals, with a quick Low 5 and a quick pull into a hug and a couple pats on the back for each buddy.

“Tons of fun—whaddup? Missed ya, Dude!” Trev—Trevor Rockson—cajoled as he released her, “You know I've got nuts for the nut. Can't have a good game of 5000 without it. So, you feeding us or Papa John's?”

With a quick eye roll at her buddy's sad attempt at a crack, she smirked and nodded towards the kitchen. Crazy—James Larry Gorham, they preferred to call him by his middle name—and her two other guests made their way to the kitchen. At the sound of 2 low whistles and 1 “Well, kiss me again; Betty Crocker, eat cha heart out!”—Crazy being, well, crazy—she smirked even further.

“Even ungirly chicks like myself can throw down when necessary; and, yes, I know it looks good…it smells good…and it mos' def tastes good,” she paused for dramatic effect, “Bobby Flay, don't hate. Oh, and any drool you drop, be a peach and mop it up—or I'll knock you on your asses! Who wants pie?”

All three men looked back at her with differing expressions—a goofy grin, a wide-eyed double take, and a gap-mouthed stare. Jerrod finally snapped out of it hearing a knock at the door. “Larry Boy! Peacock! Josie? Aw, suki, suki, now!” Jerrod greeted the three newest guests, ducking as Peacock—Montez Smith—tried to smack him on the back of the head.

“We playing Spades, 5000, or Tunk, tonight?” Josie inquired with a sudden head snap to the left—to the kitchen. `Daaaaaamn, that girl can throw down!' With a deep sniff, Josie pushed through the guys and nearly drifted towards the smells that were drawing her in with invisible strings. “I smell dirty rice and fried chicken…yes!”

“Josie! How're those Pussycats?” Solya teased, giving a quick squeeze.

“Ah, you know, Sol…spayed, contrite, about to get declawed—the usual,” Josie replied, referring to her 3 children and husband, “Oh, Juan said to say he can't make it—important personal plans he couldn't get out of and all.”

Chuckles and choked giggles soon filled the house.

“Whipped!” Larry Boy coughed into his fist.

“Amen, brother! I think we're the only sane ones left in the crew—well, PB's borderline,” Solya amended, “That's why I don't have sex—folks get too soft too soon afterwards.”

With a choked laugh, Jerrod added, “Sometimes, it's getting to that, err, softness, that's all the fun of the act.”

“Well, I wouldn't say all that, Sol,” Larry added with a lecherous grin, “sex can be rather…beneficial. Cures boredom, relieves stress, great low-grade exercise, and makes me feel less guilty for smoking.”

“Hentai!” Josie hissed playfully.

“No more Inuyasha for you, girl.”

“Yeah, yeah…so, Sol, how's the head shrinking going?”

“It's cool, Josie. Haven't had any wild urges to jump, head first, off the top of the Washington Monument or play Double Dutch in the middle of I-83, so, I'd say it's going just swell.”

“You've quite a way with words, you know that?”

“Been told that a lot, Josie…makes life less boring,” Solya agreed, turning her attention back to Larry. “Now back to you, Larry—a damn hornball—I heard your points. But, how `bout unwanted babies, stupid-assed fights with boyfriends `cause the girl you're with don't know how to be faithful, STDs, performance pressures, and the occasional sex-crazed stalker?”

“You're such a romantic,” Josie mumbled sarcastically, patting her on the shoulder and shaking her head, “No more Court TV for you, Sol,”

“Hush, you.”

“I know, but don't let that spread around, Josie—got a reputation to uphold.”

“What? Getout! A loner?”asked Jerrod, lifting an eyebrow, playfulness in his tone.

“Not the time, PB,” Solya mock warned, raising a fist to his eye level.

“Yeah, yeah…”

“So, what's the occasion, Sol? Random boredom? Miss us to pieces? Win the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes and can't wait to share the wealth?” Trev needled, suddenly smiling impishly. “Oh! It's that boob job you've always wanted, right?”

“No, no, I wish and hell-to-the-no!”

What I want to know is who's the biggest loser?” Crazy threw in, mostly to pick on Josie.

Josie—his long-time friend and ex—decided to go on a diet with Solya as a motivation/support by way of competition. It'd be one of the best motivating forces a Gung Ho, stubborn, tomboyish woman like Solya would have to keep going on, they figured, knowing that she couldn't resist a challenge. Then, Larry decided to sweeten the pot. By the end of the week the competition had started a pool between his friends, to be tallied bi-weekly. Half the money, they all agreed, was to go to a special savings account for Solya in the case of her winning the challenge or not. She wasn't told of the latter part of the pool—just everyone else involved. They all decided to take her on a major shopping trip to New York, by matching her winnings with their own combined money and paying for the trip there and back. Having a cousin that worked for the Department of Health, as well as an aunt with her own Bed and Breakfast insured they'd get free meals and accommodations. After all, everyone he knew knew Solya and they adored her.

Larry and Josie were about the closest Buddies she had—which said a lot because, in her emotional hierarchy, there were very few she let in. It started with Beloved Family Members—4 in all; then, Friends—2 in all, Jerrod and Jazmin; next, her Buddies—which were 7 in all, he included. Lastly, people she got along with and were generally comfortable to be around—as she called them, “Cool Peeps”—which included all the people he introduced he to, as a young girl, that she learned to trust…mostly considered associates in Larry's mind.

He, sometimes felt foolish for feeling so privileged at his standing in the clique of her heart, knowing full well that he and Josie were about the closest to being in Jerrod's standings as the could possibly be. Sometimes, he was almost jealous of the bond between Solya, Jerrod and Jazmin—well, mostly Jerrod. He could lower her defenses and calm and soothe her like no one else, without emitting an ounce of pity or lowering her pride. He saw Jerrod as the be all and end all of comforts in Solya's emotional rollercoaster of a life—her constant. He just did for her what no one else could and while it warmed his heart to see Solya become less guarded, more trusting and less vulnerable over the years, with Jerrod's help—though he'd never tell him that—it also rather unsettled him. There was this unspoken rule—this unseen, yet always understood, line that was just never to be crossed with Solya…and he, at one point in his life, tried to cross it.

That line, as he came to understand later in life, was her comfort zone and it didn't seem to allow intimacy or much of any contact, for that matter.

He'd long ago observed a faint underlying of femininity in her. `What was she—10? 12?' Something about her drew on him and she fascinated him like no one else. Originally a quest to understand her, the mysterious, quiet, cute girl named Solya Amarante; he sought to know her know her. He always thought she was pretty and a pretty nice, though sheltered girl. He wasn't sure if it was a crush, love, a quiet admiration, or a general fascination—he just wanted to get her.

He loved to watch her draw as she waited for Jerrod at lunch or in homeroom or as she waited for Jerrod to walk her home after school. She had the cutest smile—well, when she actually did smile—and, more than once, he'd daydream of her aiming one of those smile at him as the held hands…or maybe even kissed. The closest he ever got was the day he decided to say “Hi” for the first time.

He started rambling, soon after, about cartoons and random school subjects, repeating how much he liked her dress and how his sister would look great in it, and where did she get it, and how much it cost. And, by the time he realized he was going on and on, he noticed Solya staring at him with an “Uh huh…uh huh…riiiiiight…you don't say…uh huh…” sort of expression—one that he usually deemed as him talking someone to death. Okay, so he was nervous. Solya continued to stare at him with barely repressed humor dancing in her eyes. Finally—mercifully—she spoke.

“I know you…you're, um, Larry, right? You're in my art class and I see you staring at me when I'm sketching. So, you like art, huh?”

Larry remembered being speechless and suddenly very warm in the face, as she spoke, and he nodded.

“Wanna see some?” she offered. He nodded again and sat on the steps next to her. She scooted away from him a bit and passed her sketchbook over to him. As he flipped through the pages, taking time to give an appreciative nod for the ones that really grabbed him, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that she was slowly leaning towards him, biting her nails.

`She's…nervous? Why?' he wondered.

Turning his attention back to scenes of squirrels playing in a fountain, families at barbeques, various anime characters, different name brand sneakers with her own designs added on them, and children playing dodge ball, he found himself wondering what her life was like. Was is happy like the images he has viewing—happy families with big smiles and nice big homes—like the them of most of her drawings, maybe?

`I shouldn't pry,' he thought wisely, “Hmmmm…wonder if she'll let me be her friend? Guess I should just ask—DUH!'

Turning around to ask her—he didn't realize they were thatclose together—their noses grazed each other. She flinched a little, but didn't move back far. Staring at her, suddenly very shy and nervous, he blurted out the first thing to come to his mind. “Wow, you're cute! I mean pretty! I mean, I always thought you are—am—uh, I hateEnglish! What-I-meant-was-you-are-really-really-really-pretty!”

“Uh…” she muttered, wide eyed, “Th-thanks?”

“Wanna-be-my-friend—I-mean-only-if-you-want-to-and-if-so-good—so-what-do-you-say?”

“Are you always so hyper, Larry?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, trying not to laugh in his face as he blushed and blanched, “I don't know about being friends, yet. Don't really knowyou, yanno? How about we just keep in touch in school and see from there?”

With a crestfallen half smile, he accepted her terms with yet another nod. Solya nodded back towards her sketchpad. “I've gotta leave soon. Better hurry up and finish looking through my sketches.”

“Yeah…” Larry agreed. `Her breath smells like…Skittles? Okay, shake it off and get back to the book.'

It took another 4 minutes to skim through the rest of the sketches. When he turned to pass the sketchpad back to her, he noticed she was looking straight at tree in the middle of the school's playground.

“If you like what you saw, I have more like this at home. Um, I can draw people doin'…stuff... Can you climb trees? I mean, `cause, if you can, I can draw you in that one over there. Sound okay?” she asked, motioning towards said tree.

“Yes, yup and yeah.”

“And, also,” Solya ventured, “My Birthday is in 4 days and if you want to come to the party, it's gonna be a cookout at Patterson Park. You can come if you want. My uncle makes really good barbequed chicken, ribs and hamburgers!”

“Wow…sure!” he gushed.

Larry leaned in close to give her a quick peck on the cheek as a thank you for the invite. Solya turned around and he was nose to nose with her. All he heard was an “Eep!”and a fist was upon him, connecting to his jaw. `Damn, that hurt! What the HELLwas THAT?' he thought fuzzily, as he blinked to clear the bright lights and slight fuzziness of his vision, `Mental note—MORON—NEVERtry to get a smooch off Solya Amarante again.'

And that was exactly what snapped him out of his memories…

“Damn, Sol! That hurts yanno? Why you gotta be so damn violent?” Larry complained—okay, he whined—tenderly rubbing his jaw.

“Well, you're the one that asked the question, a nerd! And the answer is Josie—by half a pound, no less—pisses me off!” she chuckled, waving her left fist side to side, “And you've got a glass jaw, ya punk!”

“Oh, no she didn't!” Larry railed, catching Solya in a headlock that she slipped out of in less than 20 seconds and returned with a Wet Willy and a smack on the back of the head.

“Okay, enough horseplay—I'm hongree!” Trevor interrupted.

“Hongree? Um…Ebonics! Any who, I see 2 big bowls of candy bars and mad Pepsis and,” pausing to wipe his mouth, Peacock continued, “Do I see Flamin' Hot Cheetos in there. See ya!”

Everyone gathered around the counter, grabbing handfuls of junk food and making plates with the set out foods—except for Solya and Josie—and they just smiled knowingly at each other.

“So, Solya, are you cleaning house?”

“How'd you know, Josie?”

“Child, I just had to do that last week. Made a huge dinner and invited the neighbors that don't get on my ever loving nerves—and encouraged them to bring bags and aluminum foil—and gave the rest of my off limits grub to a Food Bank. I am not losing this contest. My hubby'll never let it down, a competitive thing, he is. Besides, the prize from him is 2 week at the Bahamas and a sista need to work on her tan.” Â

“Well, you are yellow as a banana—I guess the best man wins…err…woman,” Solya teased.

“So, are you still planning on submitting all that stuff on the net? I gotta say, you've got guts, if you do, Sol—couldn't be me. I, for one, think you're doing okay as you are, right now.”

“It's already in the making. We're just having a few technical difficulties. Technology sucks brick, sometimes. Besides, you know how I roll, Josie. I'm a soldier.”

“I just don't want you to get in over your head—you my sister, girl! Family ties or none. How are you, now? You know, mentally and all? Are you really okay? I do worry about you sometimes, Sol.”

“I'm good…well, I'm getting there. I'll be okay. Thanks for the concern Josie, but, if you don't quit with the mushy talk, imma pinch you!”

“Alright! Enough female bonding!” Crazy announced, “Time to play some Tunk!”

With a group cheer, they all gathered around the dining room table and started the all night long game, laughing, joking, and getting their eat-on. That was, oh…an hour ago. All was fine until Peacock decided to perfume the air with, well, not perfume. With a group groan, all Tunk players decided to beat feet—fast—cards littering the floor in their escape.

“What…the hell…was (cough)…that?” Josie bellowed behind a hand.

“What the fuck crawled up your ass, multiplied, then died?” Crazy moaned, emptying half of Solya's air freshener can in Peacock's direction.

“Shit, man! My mouth was open! Yo, don't come near me for, like, ever!” Jerrod hollered, “I'm retreating to the safety of Solya's bedroom till your lovely aroma drifts away. Hey, Sol…cover your food—please!”

“Can't help it, y'all! Arroz con Pollo and Rice and beans? Now, what'd you all expect?” Peacock defended, “Oh, by the way, Sol, that grub was hittin'! Please save me some.”

“Man, grab some Tupperware. Take the whole thing when everyone's done if you wanna. This is a free for all.”

“GAWD, it's rockin' in here! I can't take it!” Trevor whined, following Jerrod into Solya's bedroom, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

Peacock bristled indignantly. “Y'all act like y'all ain't never had to flatulate before…sheesh!”

“Okay, for one, flatulate isn't a real word and, two, your English skills suck! And ain't never? Double negative, dude,” Josie corrected, pulling some perfume out of her bag, spraying liberally.

“Gee, thanks Ms. Fletcher. Didn't realize we had a test coming up,” Peacock mumbled, blushing when he smelled the perfume drifting his way—heavily.

“Nah…that was a freebie, Monte.”

“That's Montez, Josie—ya fagot!”Peacock came back, “And ease up on that shit! It's enough to choke a horse!”

“I know…I just like fucking with you. And fagot? I think not!” Josie returned, smirking and rolling her eyes at the pout on Peacock's face. “Awwwwwwah! Come `ere, pookie—give Mama a hug! Mama'll make it all better.”

Cupping his crotch and leering suggestively, Jerrod smirked back mischievously. “Make it all better, huh?”

“Friggin' horny-assed bastard! Move! Get away from me before I sit on you!”

“That's one way to go about it, Jos,” Crazy interjected, averting his eyes as she turned a formidable glare at him.

“Such affection—brings a tear to the eye,” Jerrod cajoled as he and Trevor made there way out of Solya's room.

Trevor winced realizing a bit too late that his strategy to get back in the lead was quite possibly crushed as he observed most of his cards on the floor. “Kiss my grits!” he hissed, nudging Jerrod and pointing at the dining room table.

“Alas, the festivities must…go…on? Hey! Ayo!! What the hell happened to the cards? Aw, hell! I had a winning hand, too!” Larry Boy complained, poking his lower lip out.

“Well, shit! I ain't whipped your asses in Spades in a hot minute! So, new game, guys?” Solya suggested.

“Delusional woman…”

“What was that, Larenzo?” Solya asked Larry Boy, using his real name in an attempt to get back at him.

“You play too much, tons of fun,” Larry Boy shot back

“Don't get cut, Larenzo,” Jerrod warned playfully.

Solya chucked—loudly. “So, we all in? Spades with three Jokers, bonus rules applied, and no French cuts, if you all say yes.”

“How come?Shit, Ilike French cuts,” Josie whined.

“My house, my cards, my rules…siiiiiiiike! It's all up to you guys.” Solya offered, transferring all the food to smaller bowls and plates.

“Well, I'm broke as hell, so let's play for money.”

“Josie, how…the hell…do you play Spades for money?”

“Child, I dunno. I just need money and didn't feel like asking any of you broke ass people for any. Shit, girl, you know I'm unbalanced,” Josie laughed gathering the cards off the floor.

“How much?”

“No.”

“Josie…”

“No.”

“Imma pinch you!”

“I know you're in between gigs right now, Solya. So no.”

“Okay, we'll talk later, you stubborn thing.”

Shaking her head and shuffling the cards, Josie sighed heavily and waved her over. “Solya, you know I love you like a sister…yes, the “mush”—deal with it. Me luju, Schmooka,” Josie whispered, reaching up to kiss Solya's cheek—Solya didn't wipe it off but she did stiffen a little. “So, I'm not gonna drain your finances on frivolous crap. It's nothing that important. I just wanted to go gamble and buy some junk food—well, the healthy kind—so, don't sweat it. I get paid in 5 days. I'll manage.”

“Oh, I see. Well, I can spare $30 and I have lots of that artificially sweetened and baked-not-fried crap in my cabinet—go for it, if you wanna,” Solya whispered back.

“Okay, we'll see,” she assented, passing the deck to Solya to cut, “Now, who's ready to get set?”

“Bring it on, Chunky Butt!” Crazy teased.

“Sure…baka!”

“Yup, waaaaaaaaaaaaay too much InuYasha, girl!” Solya chortled

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Two hours later, 3 games in the crapper, Solya and Josie grinned smugly at the guys.

“That…was just sad!” Solya whispered to Josie.

“Hey, no talking over the table!” Trevor fumed, pissed as hell for losing 2 games in a row.

“Um, game's over. Doesn't really matter now, does it?”

“Hush you!”

“Yeah, yeah, Trevino… No one told you to push all those spades and take all of Larry Boy's books, in the process—glad you weren't my partner.”

“He looks pissed off, too!” Solya added.

“So not helping, tons of fun,” Trevor muttered.

“I heard that, Blackula! Don't start throwing mud if you don't wanna get dirty,” Solya warned as she pulled up her sleeves and popped her collar, “I'll have you in tears within 5 minutes.”

“D'ah, feel the love,” Jerrod cut in, wrapping an arm around Solya's shoulders and nuzzling her neck in an attempt to squash the potential argument. She flinched and stiffened. Jerrod, catching her discomfort, went for another tactic. “Alright, everyone—big group hug!!!”

“Okay, now I know it's time for bed,” Josie yawned.

“I 2nd that emotion,” Larry Boy seconded.

Last minute snacks scarfed, most were either nodding or were out in less than 20 minutes…

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About the break of dawn, the last two guests fell asleep, Jerrod and Solya cleaning up the trash.

“That was real fun, Sol! Haven't seen most of the guys in a couple weeks! So, be honest with me. This wasn't just a random hang out session, was it?” Jerrod prodded.

“It's kinda creepy how well you can read me, sometimes. Well, yeah, I guess you're right. I mean I did miss acting a fool with them all night long, like we did last night, but it was functional, as well.”

“You don't say?”

“Yeah, PB. Did you see all that junk food I hadn't gotten rid of, yet? That's why I'm still not doing as well as I could've. It was just available, yanno? And I'm in this to win this!”

“To me—all of us, actually—you're doing a great job. You're not stressing yourself out again?”

“Not stress, no. I just…sometimes I don't think I'm gonna ever get to my goal. Then, I get frustrated. Sometimes, when I got pissed off, I'd grab a Snicker's or some other such fattening shit. I had to get it away from me because I don't have the willpower to “Just say no”, right now.” Solya admitted, hanging her head.

“Well, that's what you've got me for—all of us. Don't stress and don't let your doubts get to you. You're doing a great job! I'm proud of you, man!” Jerrod expressed, wrapping an arm over her shoulder.

“Thanks, man. Now, get off me before we break out in a round of `Kumbaya', up in here, Jer,” she mumbled, embarrassed.

“Okay. No prob. Besides,” He amended, “This trash isn't gonna clean itself”

“”Right…let's get to it, then!”

“Cool.”

A/N: Yup, there you have it—Chapter 3. And me first reviewer made me feel all happy and hyper and now I have a Kool-Aid smile on my face and I'm all “Happy, happy, joy, joy!” Okay, had to let that out. Glad you like it, Inuyashalover829!