Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Butterflies & The Net ❯ Chapter 8: Getting to Know You (Part Two) ( Chapter 8 )

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

Butterflies & the Net by iloveanimecartoons

Genre(s): Psychological/Angst/Drama/Romance
Rating: T
Latest Posting: October 19, 2007

A/N: I just want to say KUDOS to my wonderful Beta and all my supporters online (Proforce, Kiotsukatanna, Sueric, PURE_PEACEFUL, inubaka), and in general company for all your wonderful praise, suggestions and encouragement! WOW! I'm on Chapter 8! I've never written a story that got this far! To all of you who have made the difference so far, this chapter's dedicated to you!**wipes tear**

ThemeMusic for this Chapter:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yz31tuNZOPI&feature=PlayLi st&p=7443666FA00EEC92&index=0&playnext=1

Chapter 8: Getting to Know You (Part 2)

Sleep departed Solya slowly as she rolled closer to benefit from the warmth of the body next to her.

`He's like a big body pillow…no, a big not water bottle. Okay, I'm trippin'. I need coffee…and a Snickers bar.'

Solya smiled at her sensibilities as she stuck her cold feet under Jerrod's legs.

`Ahhhh, much better.'

Wiping the crunch out of her eyes, Solya groggily recalled the past several hours; her surprise meeting with PB at the clinic—which shouldn't have surprised her, really, considering he usually came and left with her to all her appointments—and figured it was just…unnerving. It shouldn't have shaken her so much, should it? But she remembered being at a loss for words and that odd feeling of nervousness…with PB of all people.

`Weird. It was like we hadn't seen each other in ages rather than about a week…and it was sort of uncomfortable. But, thinking back, I shouldn't have let what he said on Sunday get to mw so much. We've always talked things out so what was the problem this time?'

Deep down, she knew the answer. That feeling of being belittled, thought less of, and worse, thought to be in any way incompetent was just too close to the surface of memories she strived to keep at bay. Memories she tried her damnedest to not dwell on and allow to become a part of her. She knew the words said and the people who spoke them, in both instances, differed dramatically and yet…they both boiled down to very similar things. She felt like she'd been unfair and should've explained herself and how she felt and why she distanced herself from someone who meant so much to her. She wanted to; she really did, but couldn't seem to voice her thoughts on the matter. And such blurred, painful thoughts and memories she'd had—they twisted and roiled and festered in her heart and mind for so long that she hadn't noticed them overlapping and revisiting her in the voice of her best friend. But, that wasn't right, was it? All in all, it was just too much to think about without screaming.

Finding it easier to distract rather than disclose, she latched onto the next best thin and made Jesse her safe haven in those days. He was…new. He only knew things about her that she'd told him—wanted him to know. To Jesse, her life wasn't an open book; it was more like a blank journal to be filled in and edited as time went by. And this was a concept she relished. Newness. On her terms. In her own way. Without the inclusion of all her associates or family members for approval, this felt good, fresh…all hers. Something she was proud to say she did on her own. Jesse became the perfect way to keep her mind off of things she'd either rather not get into or really didn't know how to say, to start.

`I feel kinda…I dunno. Selfish? Well, no, that's not right. Jesse called me all those times, not the other way around. I was just being polite and…and…well, I liked talking to him. I can't help it if he just happened to be the perfect distraction. And he is pretty fun to talk to.'

As she took a minute to stretch and smack her lips a little, bringing to mind a serious need to brush—ASAP—she glanced over to Jerrod. Asleep in one of the most distorted positions she'd ever seen, he looked beyond peaceful and totally content to imitate a pretzel.

`He must be either double jointed, a contortionist, or a friggin' sadist; she mused as she placed a hand on his cheek. `I…missed you, Jer.'

As if he'd heard her utter the thought aloud, he cracked an eye and smiled affably at her. He'd missed her presence, her laughter, her sarcasm, shooting hoops or just hanging out in general, that wild sense of humor that was all her own, her sweet, good-hearted nature that she tried to hide under a tomboyish façade—a façade he saw right through—and, surprisingly, waking up next to her. So regular and natural this was, such a norm it had become, he'd never taken the time to really realize how much he looked forward to this thing, this closeness, that only he was allowed. Solya just didn't open up to any of her other friends as she did to him, he realized, and in that realization, he was humbled and honored.

`She…trusts me. I mean, she really trusts me. Wow.'

Solya looked like she had something on her mind, something that must've had her pretty preoccupied, seeing as how she hadn't jumped back from his contact with her hand for the amount of time it had been there.

“G'Mornin', Sol,” he greeted in a scratchy yet warm voice as he laid his hand over the hand she was cradling his cheek with, “Kind of missed benefiting from your natural body heat—keeps the bills down.”

Solya rolled her eyes as she chuckled and pulled her hand from under his, but her caught her wrist and pulled her closer. With a quick inhale, Solya stiffened. Jerrod, sensing her anxiety, hurried to explain.

“I just…I didn't want you to move before I had a chance to say…what needed to be said. I feel really…wrong. Sol, I just…whatever I did—said—I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sols. I…didn't like not being around and…okay, I'm just not cool with not being in your company. You're my #1, yanno? I mean all the crew missed ya, but not like me. I was bored as hell all week and…” letting her hand go, he turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling before proceeding, “…and I missed you. I don't want this…this gap between us anymore. So, what do ya say? Forgive me and my Freudian slips?”

Solya just stared at him and bit her lip. She wasn't prepared to start the day with such a deep conversation—at least it was to her—and she was a bit tongue tied. Once again, addled by his proximity and touch, she racked her brain for a modicum of stability as she attempted to regain coherent speech.

About after a minute of silence, Jerrod turned his head back to Solya with expectant eyes. “Well? Say something, Sol. Don't leave me out in left field here.”

“Oh. Sure, we're cool,” Solya blurted when she realized she'd zoned out a bit, yanking her hand that rested just about over his heart that she then realized must have slid down when he turned over. She blanched and scrambled up to a sitting position with an over exuberant stretch and back crick.

Jerrod laughed to himself. `Ladies and gentlemen, the Tomboy has arrived!'

“I'm hongree. What time is it, Jer?”

“You and Trevor and that `hongree'…just sad. Hold on, lemme check,” Jerrod said, stretching his arm up to grab his watch off the nightstand, “Daaaaaaaamn…its 11:19 am already? We really did stay up late.”

“What? Well, kiss my grits! No…no! Shit!” Solya groaned realizing her little video game tournament with Jesse was fast approaching; knowing she wanted to get her hair braided today but the only open seat hours at the salon where 9 am to 12 noon. With a breathy sigh she decided to grin and bear it…she'd never make it.

“What's wrong, Sol?” Jerrod inquired as he slipped out the bed to find his jeans, “You sound a little panicked.”

“It's nothing that can be helped. I won't start my day all stressed out. It's okay.”

“Sol…you sure?”

“Yeah,” she lied, waving her hand in light dismissal, changing the subject, “Oh, I made you a plate from the cookout. And I saved some of my plate, as well. What say we have a nuked breakfast?”

“Um…okay. Wait a minute…whatcha eat, Amarante? Jerrod questioned and he crossed his arms and gave her a `Before-you-even-THINK-about-lying…DON'T' look.

Solya's eyes slid to the left, far from Jerrod's knowing stare, and sighed. “I was craving, PB. But, it wasn't much.”

“Okay. What was it?” he pressed.

“Um, okay, I had a regular beer—Bud—and three short ribs, pasta salad, fruit salad, two deviled eggs and a hamburger with lots of veggies and a little mayo…and three more Buds…and a Pepsi…and—”

“Sol…” Jerrod whined exasperated.

Solya winced and continued, “…and a slice of lemon pound cake and that's it. Oh, and corn on the cob and grilled veggies—Kabobs. Yeah, that's it.”

“Hell, Sol…that's…not good.”

“I said I saved some of my plate. Give me some credit, PB; I only took a couple bites off everything, I swear. Look in the fridge it you want proof. The only things I took to the head where the drinks…and the deviled eggs. Aren't you ashamed of yourself, oh ye of little faith?” Solya defended as she scouted out Jerrod's slippers with her feet in the dim light of his room. “And draw your curtains, will ya? It looks like dusk in here.”

Rolling his eyes, he pulled his curtains open and bent down to put his slippers on her feet. “Is that better, your Highness?”

“Quite, servant. Now, fetch my midday meal and do not dally. Pip, pip!”

“Erm, yes, Queen Liz…” Jerrod muttered as he walked out the room to the kitchen.

Their breakfast was pleasant and within no time, they fell into their old routine as if their disagreement had never happened. With a little persistent questioning, Jerrod finally got Solya to admit why she was so frustrated earlier and surprised her by offering to take care of her problem if she did a little something for him. Running her options through her head, she agreed wondering why she felt a little uneasy about agreeing to the open, yet-to-be-named terms of Jerrod's.

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”Ah! Ease up, PB, will ya? That hurts!” Solya hissed in discomfort as she winced under Jerrod's ministrations. ”Wait, let me bend my legs a little more. Ahh, that's…just about…right.”

“It's been a long time since I've done anything like this, Sol. I must be out of practice. You sure you're comfortable, now? Maybe I should use some Vaseline.”

“Well, it could help. I've been in this position for a while now—my legs are all tingly. Hey, not so hard!”

“Man, you're bossy. You're the one who suggested I try it this way…I'd have preferred—”

“No! You know that way hurts more! Just don't go so fast and you won't have to start over again.”

“I beg your pardon? Geez, what a slave driver,” Jerrod blanched indignantly, “Sol, you need to loosen up a bit. You're wound up so tight you're gonna get a full body cramp.”

“I just knew I should've never waited so long to call the beauty salon. If I'd made the appointment on Tuesday, like D told me to, I'd already have had my hair done yesterday. Now, I have to wait five hours for you to put 10 freakin' cornrows in my hair.”

“Hey, at least I'm willing to try—for free, I might add…ingrate,” Jerrod sulked.

Solya instantly felt guilty. Though thoroughly glad he was willing to doll her up a smidge, he was rather heavy handed with her and her scalp was screaming.

`If the guys could see us, now,' Solya giggled to herself.

Solya had taught Jerrod how to braid and plait when they were both nine. Being as he gave her—and his entire household, minus the parents—the chickenpox, and she was already spending the night, anyway, Solya's father gave her permission to sleepover until she was no longer contagious. The fact that no one else in the Amarante Residence ever had the chicken pox was even more incentive for the week-long separation. On one of the more bland days, when Jerrod and Solya tired of card games and cartoons, Solya grabbed a handful of Jerrod's nearly shoulder-length brown hair and started braiding. To this day, she still can't remember why he'd let her braid all his hair but she chalked it up to boredom. What really surprised her was when he'd asked her to show him how she did it and that same day, Jerrod Antony Domingo learned to braid, plait and twist hair. Of course, he'd tickled her till she laugh-cried and promised to never tell another living soul.

“Sorry, Jer, but, you plait way too tight and even though you braid slower, I'd prefer the latter. Please?”

“Alright, you big baby, but I'm not taking those other two plaits out—they look faaaaabulous, honey,” Jerrod gushed in a high falsetto voice.

“You betta work, RuPaul!” Solya cheered, and then flinched as the bear trap known as Jerrod's braiding style went back to work.

Two hours later, Solya had 10 cornrows hanging down her back, a smug looking Jerrod looking over his handiwork, and a headache to put a frat party followed by a pile driver to shame.

“I think…I'm blind, now. I feel light-headed,” Solya whispered, fearing talking any decibel higher would make her pass out.

Jerrod hissed in commiseration. “Wow. You look like you're on Botox, Sol. I guess I braided a little too tight, huh? Sorry `bout that,” Jerrod apologized as he gingerly rubbed Aloe Vera oil into her parts and around her edges.

“No. No. The headache'll go away after a few Tylenols…Excedrins…Oxycotons and Oxycodones…”

“Sounds like you're trying to have a busy evening at the emergency room,” Jerrod chuckled.

Solya started laughing and instantly regretted it, her head protesting the pulling of her facial muscles on top of the splitting headache she was already experiencing—and the pressure of the laughing itself—made for a very sore Solya.

Wiping a tear, which stifled any further humor, she scowled at Jerrod. “Please don't make me laugh, Jerrod. Right about now, it's the worst kind of medicine.”

If she wasn't hurting so bad, she'd have decked Jerrod in the arm as he chortled helplessly. Utterly pissed off at her ability to retaliate, she changed the subject abruptly. “I've got a new word for you; up for the challenge, Domingo?”

“The way you change subjects on a dime is nothing less than amazing,” Jerrod drawled,

“Okay, give me my weekly challenge, chica.”

“I may have a doozy for ya…don't be so damn cocky.”

“Bring it, Amarante! I haven't been stumped in a good long while.”

“The words' ubiquitous and you have to use it in a sentence—no dictionaries allowed.”

“Dang, Sol. That's not fair,” Jerrod sulked.

“Ah, suck it up. I just used that word recently in one of our conversations and you didn't need me to elaborate then,” she reminded smugly.

“Well, it was all about how you used it in that sentence. I still don't know how to define it all that much. Tell you what, I'll give you a word, too and if you can't use yours in a sentence in the next hour—no dictionaries allowed—then you're at my mercy all afternoon! The word is ephemeral.”

“For one, I'm not gonna avail myself to being your personal gopher for hours on end. Two, I'm occupied this afternoon. And three, I know the definition already, so let's just save time, shall we? Ephemeral: transient and indefinite. And, four, in a sentence: I feel like my like is ephemeral—but, ah, that's what the good Doc is for! So, challenge done, record still unbroken, and you need to go over your vocab a bit, homeslice,” Solya gloated.

“Wow that was fast. Unfortunately, I don't remember what ubiquitous means, so I'll get back to you—wait, what are you doing this afternoon?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

“Tis why I asked…”

“Nothing much. Just kicking arse in Video Games all day and being fed—healthy stuff of course, PB.”

“Oh, for real? Must be Larry Boy! He was just telling me he got a Wii system and I really want to check it out! I'm gonna kick him in the shin! I told him I wanted to play Metroid when her got it, Sol! Why he'd—”

“Hold up! Breathe!” Solya warned and as Jerrod's face reddened in anger, she couldn't help snickering at his pinched expression. “You're gonna burst a capillary over nothing, PB! It's not even Larry Boy, anyway.”

“Oh,” Jerrod breathed, “Well then. I don't have to maim the dude, then.”

“And you call me violent…”

“Well, you are,” he admitted as easily as telling the time and dodged to avoid a left jab,

“See?”

“Shut up!”

“Well, the truth is the light… Anyway, whose house am I crashing? It's Trevor, ain't it?”

“No, Jer—”

“No? Then who? Josie? Juan?”

“…No, Jer.” Solya got quiet then and Jerrod noticed she wasn't looking him in the eye anymore.

“Sol…who…?” Then it dawned on him as Solya fidgeted. “J-Jesse?”

“Yeah…”

“I…see,” Jerrod replied in what he hoped was a neutral tone, “Well, I, uh, hope you two have…fun.” `He hurts her, I hurt him!'

“You know I would've invited you normally, PB. It's just, well, he's not one of the crew, yet,” she hurried to explain as his face took on a strained look.

“Right…o-of course.”

“But, I'm working to remedy that—or, at least give him a decent shot.”

“Meaning…?” Jerrod asked with a hint of trepidation inching into his voice.

“He's coming to the Spades party. Then I'll, I guess, reintroduce you guys. Well, since you two did know each other in school and all.”

“Yeah…right. Hey, we can be partners again. You know, show the guy what getting trounced is like. Whaddaya say, Sol?”

“Well, you know you're usually my partner but I guess it would be more sociable to be his, this go `round. When it all comes down to it, It's all Josie's call, really. Either way, we're all bound to have fun, right?” Solya suggested hopefully, still not fully looking him in the eye.

“Sure,” Jerrod agreed reluctantly, “That makes sense.”

“Um…Jerrod…” Solya began, not liking the look in his face.

“Look, it's getting late and I gotta be to work in a few hours,” he interrupted suddenly—so suddenly, Solya winced.

“I guess. If you really have to go…”

“Well…it's just good to be on top of things, yanno? So I think I'll just head out a little early and get some things straightened beforehand. Later, Sol. Just, um, lock up on your way out, `kay? Um, see ya,” he summarized as he jumped into his sneakers, grabbed his jacket and exited the room with a quick wave.

“Yeah…later,” Solya mumbled dejectedly. `Okay. What just happened here?'

Half an hour, three Tylenols, and a glass of OJ later, Solya jumped into her clothes and headed home to get ready for her afternoon with Jesse with two young men on her mind…

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Waving goodbye to the cab driver, Solya took a look around. “Hmmm…nice crib. Cool neighborhood. No blue Police lights, no trash cluttering the streets, and no hoodrats…niiiice, Jes.”

Solya scratched her scalp in a nervous fashion and winced at the soreness of the action; somehow in all the mental preparations she'd retreated to, she'd finally forgotten the pain of the severe braids she let Jerrod give her hours earlier. With a strangled whimper, she rubbed her scalp tenderly and blinked back tears.

`Shit! I remember them, now. Mental note: NEVER let Jerrod Domingo near your hair ever again—even if I do look pretty darn good.'

Straightening her clothes—an oversized short-sleeved grey Dickies shirt over a long-sleeved tee-shirt, Khaki pants, and white and grey Nike sneakers—she made her way to Jesse's porch.

`Why am I so nervous? He's just a guy. I hang out with plenty of `em all the time. This is no different,' she mused, trying to convince herself to calm down and get on with it.

Taking one long, deep breath, she walked up to the front door and knocked. `Okay, ass kicking time; Jesse, time to be humbled.'

A few seconds later, the door opened and, to her surprise, it wasn't Jesse. `Oh. I didn't know we'd have company. Um…okay… Wait. Is this the right house?' “Um, hi there—is this the…Sota Residence?”

“Why, yes it am, come rightchin,” the young man greeted with a flourish and a bow and Solya couldn't help but chuckle at the JJ reference that she was very familiar.

“Gee…thanks. Um, I'm here to see—”

“Jesse. Yeah. I know. Come on in and have a seat,” he offered as he backed up to give her entrance to the house, “Oh, would you like a beverage? We have lemonade, Cherry Coke, Iced Tea, Dr. Pepper, and bottled water.”

“Um, uh, a water would be great, thanks.”

“Sure, right up. And I'll call Sir Slowpoke,” the still-yet-to-be-named-young man said with a quick roll of the eyes.

“Um, shouldn't you know who I am first?”

“Oh, don't worry, I know who you are. How could I not, Solya? You're all the dude ever talks about anymore. Oh, by the way, I'm Gianni. Pardon my rudeness. I'm Jesse's brother and `husband',” he replied in a suddenly demure fashion as he batted his eyes and pursed his lips, extending his hand daintily.

“You're the dude I spoke to the first time I called, ain't cha?” Solya breathed out as realization struck her. At his contrite grin, she couldn't help but laugh followed soon by his own hearty laugh—a laugh full of as much mutual humor as relief, she noticed.

“Honestly, he said you have this really great sense of humor and all but this really fearsome left jab. I didn't want to bear witness to your wrath and all. But, you seem pretty…unbi-polar. I'm thinking one word…PHEW!” Gianni admitted at length.

“You're…simple, Gianni,” Solya chuckled with a good-hearted grin, “You're alright, man.”

“I try, I try. I'm gonna get that water for ya. Hold on,” he relayed as she headed towards the mini fridge in the corner.

“Thanks. Um, Gianni, are you gonna stick around today and get trounced along with Jes?”

“Ah, just as humble as he said you were—refreshing,” he replied sarcastically and Solya giggled, “Actually, no.. I was just returning some games and I was waiting for Jesse to bring me down a couple bucks when you showed up. I'm living pretty soon. Why, you gonna miss me, Solya?”

“Um…okay…”

“I kid, I kid…”

“Oh, I see.”

“Dearest Solya, fear not; for though our meeting was brief, we shall rejoin on the morrow whenst occasion presents itself and mine coinage has again dwindled significantly.”

“So, that's Elizabethan for `I'll be back to pester my brother when I'm broke again', right? I gotcha.”

“Hey, you're good! Go, Solya!” Gianni grinned with a `thumbs up'.

“What can I say? I loved all that King Arthur-type crap in school and I watched InuYasha a lot. I learned more of all that medieval talk from different movies mw and my father watch. Plus we talk like that a lot. Well, usually before our morning coffee.”

“A woman of many talents, hobbies and odd mannerisms—yeah, you'll get along with my family just fine,” Gianni said as he passed her the water bottle and took a deep sniff,

“Aw, yeah—I smell chocolate! Wow, he really is getting fancy.”

“What was that?”

“Oh…nothing,” he assured her as he observed his brother descending the stairs, “Here comes Jack Tripper now.”

“Jack…Tripper?” Solya thought out loud as she wondered why that name sounded so familiar. Following Gianni's line of sight, she locked eyes with Jesse as he smiled her way. `Is it possible that he got even better looking over the last month and a half? No! None of that girlish fawning! He's just another one of the guys! Say something regular, Sol...'

“Hey,” they both breathed in unison, neither realizing that they'd stopped moving, blinking, and breathing until they were snapped back to reality abruptly.

“Jinx!” Gianni announced, giving both parties a quick pinch and effectively ending the sudden quietness almost as soon as it started as their startled yelps filled the air.

Solya glowered at Gianni and rubbed her upper arm furiously while Jesse hit him on the arm—hard—and plucked him in the back of the head.

“Gosh, Big B, you're so mean,” Gianni pouted.

“And you're so juvenile. Don't go inflicting undue pain on my guest, you giblet,” Jesse admonished with a slow shake of his head.

“You gotta admit, though, you two did leave yourselves wide open for that.”

“Wanna feel that left jab after all, huh, Gianni?” Solya asked with an evil smile as she advanced on him.

“Um, nope, I'll take Big B's word for it,” Gianni assured as he backpedaled with hands up in an attempt to appease her.

“You sure? You know what they say: Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby,” Solya teased as she cracked her knuckles.

“I'm sure—my, look at the time,” Gianni added, looking at his watch, “It's been so nice meeting you but I've got places to be and people to do. I'll just come back tomorrow for that money, Big B. Wouldn't want to intrude on your company.

Jesse and Solya looked at the front door closing behind Gianni, then at each other, and exploded in laughter.

“Okay, that was priceless! Where's popcorn and Pepsi when you need it,” Solya laughed.

“That's my lil' bro: a cornucopia of nutty goodness. So, was he a decent host, at least?”

“Oh, yeah; he's hella funny and he offered me a seat and a drink…the regulars. Do I smell chocolate and…chicken?”

“Yup. Told ya I'd cook for ya. My mother came over yesterday with a bowl of melon balls. It's really good. Would you like some, Solya?”

“In a bit, maybe. Right now, I wanna go play Super Mario Go Cart. And I brought the game I told you about, too.”

“Oh my GAWD! You didn't…”

“Oh, yes!”

“Pac Attack?”

“Yessiree!”

“No!”

“The very same.”

“Get out!”

“I kid you not.”

“How the heck did you manage that? That game's one of the hardest Super Nintendo games to find—period!”

“Let's just say it pays to respect your elders. I keep my Papi happy and he…reciprocates.”

“Oh my…Solya, I could just kiss you!”

Putting a hand to his chest, Solya shook her head quickly. “No need to go that far, Mr. Sota. A simple thank you will suffice.”

“Yeah. O-Of course. Thanks, Solya,” he gushed.

“No big…`Big B',” Solya returned with a smirk and a slight raising of her eyebrows, “Do I want to know what that means?”

“Nothing obnoxious, I assure you. It simply means big brother. He uses that title a lot when he wants something or he's skating on thin ice, as you noticed a couple minutes ago.”

“Ohhhhh…”

“Yeah. So, shall we? The games await,” Jesse as her offered Solya his arm and waved his arm towards the den.

“Okay let's. Oh, Jesse, one thing…”

“Yeah, what's that?”

“You're not a sore loser, are you?”

“Can't say, really… I've literally never lost to anyone to know. Guess we'll see, huh?”

“You serious?” Solya breathed in child-like awe.

“Oh yeah. No joke. Still up for it?” Jesse teased, and chuckled at her enthusiasm as Solya whooped.

“FINALLY! Some real competition! C'mon, let's go,” Solya cheered, pulling Jesse toward the den with a strength that more than surprised Jesse.

`Definitely not getting on her bad side,' he figured as he hunted out the first game.

“Let's make this interesting, Jesse.”

“Okay, I'll give it a go. Whatcha got in mind?”

“Best two out of three, per game. Loser either pays up $10 per loss or owes a low-grade favor.”

“You that confident you can beat me?”

“I'm no slouch, Jes. Try and see.”

“Okay, su—hold on. Before I agree to your terms, what's a `low-grade favor'?”

“Mild to medium chores, music burning, cooking a meal or two, and small stuff like that…things that a kid could do and not get into serious trouble over. My peeps made these limits when some past favor went a little too far and required things that were, let's just say, not PG 13 and under. So, basically, there's no need to be leery.”

“Ah, I see…cool, that works. I agree. Fair warning, I can be rather lazy, sometimes. You sure you want to be at my beck and call? Well, within reason, of course.”

“There goes that witty sense of humor. I'm sure. I need money…and my bedroom painted. So, let's get this party started!”

“Your funeral…”

“I'll live.” `Poor guy…gonna clean his clock'

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“How the hell did you beat my man! He had you cornered!”

“Ah, ah, ah. Don't sweat the technique!” Solya insisted cockily, pushing Jesse to the side as he waved his hand in front of her face to prevent yet another flawless battle.

“Um, Sol…?”

“Yeah, Jes?”

“You…suck.”

“No. Sore losers suck. Get over it alrea—Aw shucky ducky!” Solya corrected and straightened right before mimicking the voice on the game, “FINISH HIM!”

“No… No, Solya… Not the…aw, just let me drop…not the SUBWAY—AWWW!!!” Jesse begged to no avail as Solya once again brutally ended yet another of his Mortal Kombat players' lives with a downright evil grin as she took a second to mark another tick on the paper. “Okay, you've already got my Mad Money, my pizza money for me and Gianni, and, if we don't stop now, the money he wants to borrow from me. I give. Shoot. You're the Queen, already.”

“I prefer `The Man'; and I'm not so heartless as to take all your cash—I'll let you hold onto $20 for pizza.”

“Gee; thank you, your benevolence,” Jesse muttered, ego squashed and pride thoroughly ruffled.

“If you were a puppy, your ears would be drooping. You do, ya know; you look just like a sad wittle lost puppy. It's…cute.”

“I'm not `cute',” Jesse declared with a furious blush, “I'm…full of youthful good looks.”

“Sorry. Having a hard time seeing how that differs.”

“It does. Trust me.”

“Okay, one more game—no wagers—your choice, this time.”

“No. I wanna be fair. Winners always pick the game.”

“Didn't you say no one's ever beaten you ever?” at his hesitant nod, Solya continued,

“Well, I'm giving you the home court advantage here—take it, already.”

“Can I just pass—at least for an hour or so? I'm hungry and being as how we've been playing for nearly five hours now, I dunno about you, but I could eat.”

“I shall have mercy on ye, my good fellow. Lead us on to thy grub,” Solya announced haughtily with a heroic pose.

Jerrod rolled his eyes and snorted. “Solya…you've got issues.”

As he lead her to the dining room, he dug out his wallet. In the five hours since they'd begun their little video battle, Solya had accrued $90—20 of which she graciously gave back for Gianni's sake—and 5 `favors'. She sighed inwardly in sheer bliss—no painting her bedroom, cleaning out her closet, making Sunday dinner, or weeding the garden. She was gonna hold onto that last favor till she really needed a hand.

`I'll let him sweat a little. Patience is a virtue, but making a grown man sweat in apprehension is just savory!' she mused with a shiver or wicked excitement, followed by a loud evil laugh, “BUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!!!”

“You're…a little scary, sometimes,” Jesse laughed.

“I know…I know. They have pills for that, but they don't go down well with applesauce.”

“Touch her, Lord,” Jesse mumbled with a shake of his head and a slight laugh as he gestured for her to sit and laid a hand on her forehead. As Solya laughed at his antics, he left for the kitchen for the drinks and to reheat the dinner.

“Hey, Jes.”

“Yeah?”

“I could go for those melon balls, if the offer still stands.”

“Okay, right up!”

The next few hours were filled with good hearted jokes, utter hilarity, and comfortable camaraderie. His cooking, she had to admit, was just delectable. Solya had never been cooked for by a guy and tired her best to hide her sudden awkward shyness. As if picking up on her unease, Jesse went right into `Italian waiter mode' and, with a pretty cheesy accent, announced the dishes as he placed them before her with a flourish. Her laughter drained the tenseness away as she took in her meal with awe—he'd really impressed her. The Caesar salad was crisp and fresh with just the right amount of dressing and croutons. Keeping with the light fare was grilled vegetables sprinkled with EVOL, croissants and sparkling apple cider. The part she loved more than anything was the main dish, Chicken Parmigiana. Never having eaten anything more Italian than pizza, it was a welcome surprise. She even joked that he should open a restaurant with the slogan: `Food so good, it'll make you lick other people's fingers.' That earned her a long, rather goofy chortle from Jesse—and a rather bashful grin, when the laughter wore down. She was very impressed with the dessert—more with the fact that he'd seemed to remember her past discussions that she was into eating healthier—and her eyes lit up at the array of fruit for the skewers and dark chocolate in the fondue pot. So impressed was she that she almost couldn't stop smiling, even as Jesse reached out to wipe off a dab of chocolate from her chin and proceeded to lick it off his finger. Though surprised and caught a little off guard—resulting in a couple minutes of diverted attention and a little light blushing—she couldn't shake the smile that she really didn't seem to be able to refrain. Calling her Cuteness, though, did the trick and even though she'd pretty much gotten used to the new nickname, it was enough to snap her out of her `girlish moment' and get on to true hanging out—Solya style.

Jesse, it seemed, was starting to really enjoy the more laid back, confident-not-cocky Solya, having had his fair share of jibes and teases as she assiduously, well, whipped him good in video games—his used-to-be-favorite-past time. Soon enough, he came to see that she wasn't just another pretty face and could put some of his homeboys' manliness to shame. Not that that was a bad thing to him, he found; the Solya he was confronted with as her comfort level deepened with him gave him an `old friend I grew up and did everything with' vibe. Soon, the discussion, a debate on the best NFL teams in existence and `why the hell would anyone pick that sorry team?'—even when the debate became rather heated—was tempered by gentle roughhousing and good-natured taunts. Solya surprised Jesse even further by belching with such an intensity that he couldn't believe it was due to four swallows of Ginger Ale; he had to take off his hat and `bow to the master'. He likened her `burp quotient' to Booger from Revenge of the Nerds and laughed out loud as she hugged him tightly and screamed that that honor was higher than an Academy Award accompanied by a fake blubber and “You like me…you really, really like me!”.

She'd truly never ever felt this level of camaraderie with anyone this fast—well, to be honest, he just about tied with Jerrod which was as pleasant a surprise as it was a odd new and thought-provoking reality. On her own terms…in her own way…and at her own pace, she was becoming an independent person in a budding friendship. Not out of pity, a sense of protection, outrage or compassion from another. No, this was hers…all hers…and she relished it. She savored this feeling; free to make new life experiences, her own discoveries, nuances and mistakes without the unwitting approval or her peers. It's not that she hadn't a special place in her heart for all her friends and close family members, but the general `entire group of peers knowing everything about her all the time' deal was redundant. She wanted to stand on her own two and Jesse madeit feel…feasible and rather enjoyable. He made her comfortable and in her learning to trust on her own terms…well, it was a novel idea indeed. Far more comfortable than she thought she'd be, in his company—and in his house—alone—time seemed to whisper by until the darkness of the sky and the quieting of the neighborhood drew their notices.

“Oh hell, Jesse. Time really does fly when…well, you know how the saying goes,” Reluctantly, Solya asked the question she knew she had to ask but was a bit hesitant to ask, “Um, what time ya got, man?”

“Bailing on me already, huh?” Jesse kidded as he pulled his watch out of his pocket and gasped sharply, “Oh hell, Solya. I'm really sorry…I-I had not idea…”

“Why? What's up? What's the matt—wait…what time is it, Jes?”

“Um…4:37 am,” he admitted with a wince.

“…Nooooo…” Solya breathed in denial.

“Um…yeah. Yes.”

“Nahhhhh…”

“No, I'm…pretty serious, Cuteness.”

“My…my Papi's gonna…Oh, shiiiiit…”

“N-Now, don't geek on me, Solya. Um, I could just call your father and explain. Or, I could—”

“How the he—how'd all that time go by so fast, Jesse? Wow…I mean…I mean…”

“Don't worry. I could see you home in a cab and I'll go with you to make sure you get home safe. I will explain things to your father, if you like…okay? Sol?” Jesse tried again, seeing a slight panic creeping into Solya's, until recently, jubilant expression.

“Jesse, it's just…just…” Solya tried, hoping to find some sense of order in her words to explain her sudden apprehension, “¡¡Ai Dios mio, Jesse!! Really, I don't know what to do.”

“Is it…that bad? I am really sorry, Sol, if I got you in deep water with the parental units. Really, I'll tell him it was all my fault.”

“No. See, it's not like my father's ever been a man to over exaggerate or not trust me…well, not after that one time, anyway—erm, scratch that—not relevant…but, nonetheless, I'm…I have reason to doubt it's gonna be cut and dry this time is all.”

“I…guess I don't follow,” Jesse admitted as he cocked his head to the side in a confused manner.

“How to say, how to…explain…” Solya muttered to herself then, after a few more seconds, turned to Jesse and tried to break her slight fear down to him, “Well, unless he knew in advance that I'd be out, with those he knew and trusted, he'd be more…shot gun about things. Not because he didn't really trust me but…but, more out of fear…for me.”

“Ohhh…Sol, I—”

“Not that I don't trust you—cause I do—you've earned it,” she hurried to explain, not liking the sudden guilty look coming over Jesse's face, “But…let's just say, for my father, I get it. I'm just a little surprised he didn't call, yet.”

“Ohhh…you forgot, huh?”

“Forgot? What did I forget?”

“Remember when you were beating me black and blue on Killer Instinct? Someone kept calling you and it was the wrong number. So you—”

“Cut off the ringer…” Solya breathed as she reached for her cell and groaned at the 17 missed calls and 11 urgent text messages. With a faint whimper, Solya lifted her eyes to Jesse and visibly wilted. “Can I use your phone, Jesse?”

“Yeah, sure. Need some privacy?”

“No. It's cool, thanks,” Solya replied, attempting to brush off his concern as nothing, all the while trying to tell her self that she was just overreacting. it was starting to work, too, till Lamar answered the phone in a groggy yet concerned and disappointed tone.

“Deja? Where the hell are you? I've been up all night panicking, calling you and your friends and…. I thought you were with Jerrod but he never answered the phone till about 20 minutes ago—cell out of range or some other such—doesn't matter. He said he'd not seen you since early afternoon. Do you have any idea how upset Denise and I were?” her father ran off without taking a breath.

“I'm at Jesse's house, Papi. I…told you about that four or five days ago, remember? Yes, I was with Jerrod earlier but he went to work and I came over here. I'm really sorry I worried you. Really. Just…” Solya paused to stifle a sob, hating her father's upset and her beginning upset in the presence of someone she wasn't comfortable enough with yet to be this vulnerable around. Giving Jesse a pleading look—which her deciphered and with a knowing glance, left the room—Solya exhaled audibly—shakily—and continued trying to explain, “He's a decent guy, Papi. We didn't realize the hour had gotten so late. I did turn off my phone but it was just supposed to be for a little while and I forgot. Don't be mad…please? Daddy…I'm so sor—”

“Solya, just…calm down, okay... We can talk more, later. Don't excite your self too much,” he cooed as he heard the uneven hitch in her breathing increase minimally.

“Yes…sir,” Solya answered in measured breaths.

`…Daddy…' he thought with a wince,

“It's…okay. Well, not totally, but…I understand. Just…don't cry, Sunshine. Te amo, Deja. I do trust you, honey. Lo siento.”

“Thank you…for trusting me, Papi. Jesse is really sorry, too. He said he would see me home—he'd ride with me in the cab to make sure I returned safely. Is that what you'd suggest?”

“It's about 5 am, darling. Like I said, I trust you and, from what I gather from Denise, this Jesse's an okay young man. So, I'm gonna let you give the sun a chance to shine and after you get some rest, the both of you can come over and we can have a little fireside chat. Okay?” he suggested in a tone that, while aimed to soothe, also left no room for misinterpretation—it was time to introduce `that new guy'.

“Yes, sir…I'll see you later today then.”

“Sleep well…um, by that I mean alone, Sol…” Lamar, realizing she's wasn't trying to make a bunch of excuses but was trying to take responsibility for her actions, saw it as admirable trait and smiled.

“Buenos Noches…um…Dias, Papi. Gracias,” she whispered after a short lapse and kissed him over the phone after making sure Jesse was not in earshot before hanging up the phone. Crisis averted, more or less, she made her way to the den where Jesse sat with a pensive if not slightly groggy stare. She smiled at the near scowl that did nothing to lessen his handsome features as he chewed on his thumb. “Hangnails can be nasty; my advice? Find something else to nibble on, Jes.”

He turned her way with a curious—hopeful?—expression his face and she cringed at the double entendre she'd just said blindly.

“Don't even think it, Solya,” he near choked out laughing and she flushed and turned around to escape his teasing banter and their immediate effects on her inexperienced mind, “I can display chivalry at will, I'll have you know. Just think, I had you at my disposal all night and never once gave into the urge to—”

“Let's not go there, Jes—”

“—kiss the tip of you cute little nose. That's all,” he finished, raising hands in surrender and Solya eyed him speculatively…cautiously, “Easy, Solya; I've got three younger sisters and the same way I want to protect and care for them trickles down into my dealings with the fairer sex. I grew up in a family of over 75% females—had to pick up a little sensitivity and common sense along the way, huh?”

“I suppose,” she replied loosely but couldn't fully repress her smile.

“Do you realize we just spent over 12 hours together? Wow! Feels like I should know more about you. Funny…”

“Well, I guess that's what our date's…for. This—our video game mini tournament—was only supposed to be for four to six hours tops. Gawd, it was fun taking your money, Jesse. You're a pretty good host and a fairly good cook! Sike! Your cooking's off the chain—I just lourved your pasta and chicken dish!”

“The Chicken Parmigiana. It's my family's recipe and you're the second person I cooked it for. I'm really pleased you enjoyed it so much.”

“Second? Hmmm, not bad, in the line of honors, buddy boy. Who was your first?” Solya ask innocently before the second possible interpretation of said line popped into her mind and the laughter started to bubble. She, surprisingly enough—especially to herself, considering all the raunchy, lewd things she'd heard from Trevor and Crazy over the years—covered the bit of laugh that did surface with a well orchestrated cough.

Jesse caught the second meaning and leered mildly for a few seconds before relenting. “My Great Grandmother was the proud recipient…about three weeks before she left us. She loved it and told me that the next person I make it for should be special. She was really old fashioned and sentimental but she was pretty funny, too. I…miss her.”

“She sounds like a really nice lady, Jes. Sorry…for your loss,” Solya expressed as she walked up to him and loosely wrapped her arms around him while clumsily patting him on the back in condolence, which he accepted gratefully.

“Thanks, Cuteness,” he returned with a short hug—more of a squeeze and release—before quickly letting go. His memories of Junior High School weren't as fuzzy as they could've been and one of the few small-but-important details he remembered about Solya Amarante was she wasn't big on contact. Not even with her closest friends. Suddenly shaking away the memories, something funny popped into his head and he just had to comment on it. “Wait, Solya, did you say…lourved?”

“Yup,” Solya confirmed matter-of-factly, “My own word. But, you can use it…with my permission, of course.”

“How do you even spell it?”

“You know, it's been so long since I made it up…I forgot. Heh.”

“You, Ms Amarante, are just too much.”

“Hey, it's coming off, slowly but surely. Be patient with a gal,” she chuckled, taking a good-hearted dig at herself.

“That's not what I meant,” Jesse suddenly said seriously, “Please don't think I think of you that way. Solya, to me, you're just…Solya. And that's all you need to be.

“Wow,” she chuckled nervously, “You're easy to please, Jes…”

“Please don't down yourself when you're with me, okay? I told you, you're cute and I meant it; and it's more than that adorable little nose,” he insisted tweaking her nose lightly and letting his hand drift to her cheek, near her ear to rest.

“But Jesse, I'm jus—” she tried to avouch in vain as Jerrod's thumb whispered over her cheek to rest gently but securely over her lips, ending her self-degrading thoughts before she had a chance to get climb up on her mental soap box and spin the old broken record. Her jaw was rendered paralyzed under the strange tingling sensations that shot straight through her with her lips the point of origin.

“You're…a Butterfly. A butterfly who is on her way to becoming an even more beautiful creature. The butterfly you are now is beautiful to everyone around you…the butterfly you will become will reveal it's beauty to self—for you to see—as you change. By the way, Solya, even your cocoon is beautiful.”

Unable to think of a single comeback or acceptable response to such a speak, she just stared blankly as his thumb slowly slipped over and off her lips in a slow caress as he dropped his hand with a solemn smile. She smiled back tremulously in a shy manner that she just couldn't seem to hide at the moment, for some reason.

“Th-This butterfly needs her rest. I'll see you later in the a.m., Jesse.”

“Till then, Cuteness; the foldout sofa's comfy. I'll hook you up. I've got extra pillows in the linen closet,” he offered, going to set it up.

“Thanks…for that,” she near whispered in reply but he heard her and grunted softly in answer.

Seven minutes later, a queen sized bed with a mountain of pillows and a thick warm comforter awaited Solya. She climbed in and snuggled in the pillowy softness with a breathy sigh of contentment. A contentment that was soon shattered as Jesse turned away from her and turned off the lights as he began exiting the room. Her strangle whimper halted his retreat.

“Cuteness…? What's up? You okay?” he asked with concern tinting his tone.

“I'm…oh, hell, never you mind. It'll be okay. Go on to bed, Jesse. I'm…fine,” she lied, her shaky voice giving her away with each syllable.

“A wise man once said: Cut the crap. Let us learn from his words of enlightenment and keep it real, shall we?” Jesse came back smugly with a Don't-even-try-to-lie-to-me expression writ in his eyes.

“Okay. I'll be honest. But, Jesse, puh-lease don't laugh at me. And…don't tell anyone either—ever. Okay?”

“I swear on all of my video game systems and games,” he pledged with a raised right hand.

“Wow—sounds true enough. Okay. I'm really nervous of…being alone in strange new places. It gets bad, sometimes—anxiety attacks similar to asthma attacks—and I'd really rather not disturb your neighbors or see the inside of an ER today. So, there are three options.”

“Hit me, Cuteness.”

“One, leave now and face the wrath of Papi; Two, sleep on your porch till the sun comes up—I'm not so antsy when I can see daylight in a room and, before you ask, no, I have no idea why that is; or Three, you keep me company so I'm not all terrified and paranoid.”

“Scooch over, then,” Jesse offered with a careless shrug and almost laughed out loud at Solya's nearly instant red flush, “Um…problem?”

“Um…yeah! How about sleeping with a guy I've only known for a month and a half, for starters?”

“Hey, we've know each other since Junior High, I'll remind you. So, what's the deal?” he near pouted.

“Incidentals. And I have issues with sharing a bed with a guy I'm not involved with,” Solya proclaimed crisply and hurried to add on a last minute clause when he shot her an `Easily looked over/remedied/And that's a problem, why?' look; or at least that's how she saw it. “I just want to catch a few winks. Two hours tops. Can't you brave it for that long?”

“Well, I don't have any other furniture in here, other than the coffee table. And, no, I'm not sleeping on the coffee table…or the floor…or sitting up Indian style, back to the wall, like Miroku. I promise not to bite, grope, tickle, straddle, nip, nibble, squeeze, rub, breathe on, lick, caress, dry hump, tease, or molest you in any way unwanted, for the entirety of you rest in my den. I'm just really tired and want to catch some rest while being a decent host. So, what do y—” he had to stop abruptly to let loose a thunderous roar of a yawn, “Sorry, Solya. Whatcha say?”

She stared into his eyes. He looked serious—and exhausted—and she didn't want to be an overly-picky, ungrateful guest, no matter how uncomfortable she was with the makeshift arrangement. `Well, you stuck your foot in it when you told him your phobia. Suck it up, so you both can get some sleep…' “O-Okay, Jesse. I'll trust you.”

“Thank you, Solya,” he sighed/yawned as he climb in and laid on his back, and pushed three pillows between them for modesty's sake, regardless of the fact that they were both still fully clothed minus footwear. “G'Night…Morning, Solya.”

“Morning, Jesse. Thanks. `Preciate it. Really.”

“No big. You're cooking breakfast,” he yawned again

“You're hilaaaaaaaaaaaaarious,” Solya struggled to say through a hearty yawn of her own. “Besides, I've got $70, now! Can you say delivery?”

“Go to sleep, Cuteness,” Jesse giggle weakly, sleep already closing around him.

“Yeah, yeah, cutie…” Solya rambled off, half aware of her comment as her eyes drifted closed.

`I heard that…' Jesse gloated to himself—his last official conscious thought before both teens surrendered to blissful darkness.

A/N: Twenty-three pages! Kami-sama! Will my Beta still like me after this, the typos, the slang, the dictionary.com words that this inferior spell check program for Windows aren't equipped with? Oh, the horror! To my 7 fans, I hope you enjoyed this! It's a joy to write! Lata!