Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Butterflies & The Net ❯ Chapter 18: ...Dude... ( Chapter 19 )

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

Butterflies & the Net

by iloveanimecartoons
Genre(s): Psychological/Angst/Drama/Romance
Rating: T
Latest Addition: March 13, 2009

Chapter 18: …Dude…

“Oh, hell, no!”

He…he actually said that?

“Oh, hell, no!”

He did. He did say that.

Solya risked a glance Jesse's way. The dude was a mask of social politeness. The air was pulsing with male possessive challenge and dude was about three seconds from scratching his chin and grinning in a wholly nonchalant way.

Talk about grace under fire…

`Okay, again, awkward…'

“Oh, hell, no!”

`Ummmm—okay, Sol, snap out of it!'

And what do we say to the festivities? The joy, the rapture, the utter bliss of the day, the company, the occasion…?

Blimey…

`What the hell is up with Jer?'

Deciding to suck it up and forge on, get a general ease worked out into the group—if possible—Solya opened her mouth to state…something. Only, she had no idea what. Luck be a lady, she never had to—the kids took center stage, loud, large and in charge.

Children…

`Ahhhh…what can ya say? Hell, how `bout “Praise Moses!”?'

The little attention-seekers.

`Sometimes, ya just gotta just love `em!'

They have a way of popping up and snapping the tension with their self-proclaimed innocence. It was quite obvious that words were about to be said, attitudes formed, relationships tried; but then, with the exuberance and obliviousness of youth, all three of Josie's kids burst into the room full of greetings, laughs and plenty of attention for the dog in their midst.

`Hallelujah!'

“Kenny, come `ere, boy!” Andre coaxed.

“No, I wanna play with him!” Aishee insisted.

“Children, share…” Terry admonished in a mock exasperated grown up tone—not a bad imitation, actually—then spoiled the effect by giggling at his audacity.

Rolling his eyes,, Andre petted the dog in question behind the ears and gave the room a quick once over and beamed. “Uncle Jer! Hiya!”

Jerrod set his face into a generally pleasant smile and reached out to pat his honorary nephew on the back warmly. “Hey there, Apple Scrap! Good to see ya.”

“I'm gonna ignore that, Uncle Jer,” Andre muttered after hearing the much-disliked nickname Jerrod and Solya insisted on calling him. “Anyway, didja meet the doggie?”

“That's did you, not didja, Andre.” Josie corrected. “Sheesh, what are they teaching you kids in school, nowadays?”

“You don't wanna know…” the cheeky little wonder answered before returning his attention to Jerrod. “So, anyway, did you meet the doggie? His name's—”

“Kenny—yeah, I know,” Jerrod cut in, his pleasant mask slipping a bit as he cut eyes at Jesse for a split second before returning them to Andre.

“Yeah, Daddy said he's an, um, a…men-ah-chore pincher…”Andre announced authoritatively—all wrong, but adorably authoritative. “Makes him sound like a little crab, though. Huh.”

“How `bout that. A crab, huh?”

With the attention span he was well-known for, he switched the conversation to Solya without answering. “Guess what, Auntie Sol? I beat Jesse—er, Mr. Jesse—reeeeal good!”

“That's `cause you rock, little man,” Solya congratulated him with a High 5 and a quick ruffle of his short hair.

“Little hustler got me good, too,” Jesse chuckled good-naturedly.

Josie raised a brow in a mixture of not-so-well hidden humor and mock reproof. “You poor thing,” she crooned at Jesse while squelching a laugh. “Got ya good, didn't he?”

“Yes, ma'am, he did,” Jesse admitted bashfully.

“Andre, you little stinker,” Solya laughed.

Andre just smirked in a way that said all too plainly how normal this sort of thing was to him. “Well, what'd you expect? I'm good!”

“Did he break the bank?” Josie had to ask. Hell, it wouldn't be the first time she had to retrieve ill-gotten gains from her con man of a son. Where'd he get these wild schemes from?

“Not really, Josie, honest. Li'l Dude just lightened my wallet of five bucks—no need to balance my checkbook or anything like that.”

“Phew. You're a pretty good sport about it.”

“He's a funny little kid. Got gumption. I like him.”

“Well, yeah, that's true—gumption in spades. But a little more PBS wouldn't kill him.”

“Oh, please don't make me watch any more Sesame Street or Blues Clues, Mami! I'll give him back his money, really!”

“Expand your mind, App Scrap, not your wallet,” Solya added in.

“But, I want a set of weights so I can look like Usher! I only needed 30 more dollars. Or was it 40 more…?”

Jerrod couldn't help but laugh. “Your kids, Josie…ever consider creating a sitcom? I'd watch it for sure.”

Josie just rolled her eyes and shrugged as if this and any other comments about her hyper, rather outlandish and comical children where run of the mill; which, actually, was pretty much true...

Not one to be out of the action for long—especially in the midst of all this potential adult adoration, little Drama Queen that she could be—Aishee jumped into the fray. “Mami, I want a freeze pop!”

“Ooh, me, too!” Terry joined in.

“Me, three!” Andre piped in, not daring to let go of the spotlight just yet.

`Kids.' Solya cheered inwardly, relief and humor mixed. `Yeah…hallelujah…'

“Heavens to Betsy, calm down, guys,” Josie sighed, all humor and motherly exasperation as the three glomped their mother in pre-sugary bliss. Josie dutifully trudged into the kitchen with the two youngest of the trio of kids clamped onto her legs, Terry opting to march behind them—all grinning like idiots.

`Cute little idiots.'

Focusing on the sounds of laughs and indulgent sighs as Josie rummaged through the deep freezer, Solya tried not to dwell on the immediate and very potential drama.

`Denial, anyone?'

With the kids in the kitchen, whooping in delight of their fruit-flavored bounty, Jerrod went right back to glaring daggers at Jesse. Kenny, most likely sensing the aggression being aimed at his appointed master stared quivering and growling low in his throat with his ears slowly laying back. Solya's startled gasp was somewhere between `Bad dog!', `What the hell…?' and `Oh, shit.'.

Jesse, reacting more to Solya's reaction than any potential threat to Jerrod, reached down to secure a firm hold on Kenny's collar and stroked him in a calming fashion. Kenny stopped growling but with a very rigid stance kept an Eagle Eye on Jerrod.

Jerrod in turn shot an incredulous scowl at the little beast that screamed `What're you gonna do to me, ya little pipsqueak? Lunge at my kneecap? Nibble my big toe?' He then turned the look to Solya and she got the point instantly: control your pet before I stomp him. This was nothing less than a shock to Solya because, for the most part, Jerrod always came off as if not a gentle soul, at least a peace-loving one; a generally calm guy that loved animals.

`Damn…my man Jer is pissed.'

Caught between trying to avoid chaos, keeping an eye on Kenny and keeping up appearances, Solya nearly groaned out loud. She could see Jerrod's jaw ticking and Jesse backing away with Kenny towards his carrier. Okay, this was ridiculous! The whole stubborn, territorial stance

`Men—or the lack thereof. God, you can practically taste the testosterone in here. Chill out, Jer.'

Right as Solya was about to open her mouth to tell him just that, the doorbell rang and she gave an audible sigh of relief as both men focused on the front door.

“Oh, friggin' hell—I'm coming!” Josie called from the kitchen.

“I'll get it!” Solya offered, only too happy to a reason to step away from the one-sided pissing match.

`Hell, saved by the bell. Now, you two boys get along till I get back. Please, Lord…'

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Josie sighed at the trio at the card table before turning to her five newest arrivals. If she had reason to worry before, sighting Shakey truly upped the ante.

`Oh, dear Lord, it's Shakey. Give me strength. Guess there's nothing for it…'

Her guests came in, draping coats and jacket on hooks or over the back of chairs and looked her way expectantly. Shakey, for once, was mildly subdued. Cause for more than more than a few raised brows.

`Calm before the storm. Please, God, no.'

With a smile bright enough to blind the masses, she spread her arms in welcome and announced, “Game on, everyone—come on in and getcha asses kicked.”

Solya started humming the chorus to `The Gambler' and made the universal sign for “Show me the money”—palm in, thumb rubbing back and forth over the tips of her fingers.

It was an effectually distraction, if only for a minute or two. Hearty laughs filled the rooms, minus Jerrod who was still scowling at Jesse. Jesse's face was pure nonchalance, eyes only for Solya.

Jesse shook his head as his laughter died down. Chucking her on the chin and squeezing her to his side in a buddy-buddy way she was pretty comfortable with, Jesse winked. “Geez, I'm glad you're on my side. Game on, indeed, Solya.”

Solya smiled shyly before catching herself

Jerrod glanced at Solya, feeling dejected and frustrated and muttered under his breath, “In more ways than one; look out, Jesse Sota. It's on.”

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`Oh, this is just too surreal. Is Solya serious about that faker?!'

Jerrod had been trying, really trying, to show a good face to the masses in light of the fact that that two-faced cretin was trying to get in Solya's good graces.

`Just what is he after? No, rocket scientist, it didn't take much to figure that out. Just look at her!'

Solya, after years of insults—seemingly more self-inflicted than from any outside sources, no matter how much she tried to laugh them off or play them down as the norm—had taken to living life as the neutral, get-along girl. A friggin' tomboy; and, though he was used to it and even found the concept extremely comfortable in dealing with a female as his best friend, he always had an underlying feeling it was more an act—a protective part she played—as opposed to a general mindset on her part. Never taking into account her own femininity or appeal, never giving it any thought or—outside of general hygiene and upkeep—any attempt to update and, for lack of a better word, beautify her already pretty, exotic look. Isn't that what most teens— women—did? The only time she'd ever put on make up or did her hair in more than the basic pony tail, cornrows or some other just-this-side-of-plain hairstyle was that damned date with…him. But, then again, that was quintessentially Solya. Simple, but…not.

Jerrod glanced over at Solya and grinned to himself at the way she puckered her lips as she concentrated on some inner thought.

She was the girl next door with that certain something that made you do a triple take and, not realizing how rude you may come off, stare. Dumbfounded. Just…utterly appealing, open and honest, warm and funny, rough and tumbly, and just…real—refreshing! She was refreshing and so much of what was missing in a world of game-playing, fake, plastic, stuck-up, manipulative, bitchy females that most men would pass her by not realizing that what they've been searching for in a mate, when all the randiness and assumed allowances of youth began to fade—or, even in the midst of their own perceived Nirvana, the world being their own personal orgy. And all because she was, what, not a walking stick, all polished, snooty and flirty? And artificial.

`Why are men so short-sighted?'

Hell, every man, even young ones, have an ideal. He sure did, which was why he was sure every relationship he'd had since taking a serious interest in women in means of companionship seemed to fall by the wayside. No staying power. Always something off, or missing. His own current girlfriend just…lacked, for lack of a better word. Guys just didn't get it and Jesse was never gonna get any of it, if Jerrod had anything to do with it.

Jerrod looked over at Jesse, vowing, if only to himself, to give him a second look with an open mind. After all, he was a pretty good judge of character. Jesse sat back in a relaxed half-slump and talked to the few guests that came over to greet him. Every few minutes, he looks to Solya and, seeing her busy with her own group of guests, comes back to the conversation fully. A minute later he looks again and, taking in the way Solya is licking her lips and swallowing, gets up to get her a drink; by the direction he heads, seemingly a glass of punch.

`The self-centered jerk… Doesn't he know she doesn't drink all that sugary stuff?'

Before Jerrod has a chance to smile cockily, Jesse seems to belatedly remember her drink preferences. He taps Josie on the shoulder to ask her where he could get a can of Diet Mountain Dew and a cup of ice. Josie smiles at him appreciatively and waves him to the chest just inside the kitchen. While he works on the refreshments, Josie grins at him and then over to Solya as if she has some secret understanding. He comes to Solya's side less than a minute later with the drink and ice and a couple napkins and sets the drink next to her as to not intrude on her conversation. Some of the women she's talking to smile approvingly at him and Solya actually blushes a little as she accepts thanks him.

Solya Deja Amarante actually just blushed. Well, hell.

`Well, okay, I accede that he is a tad observant and accommodating. Nevertheless, one politely offered soft drink does not a gentleman make. One test down, thousands to go—he doesn't deserve her and never will. And he'd better not hurt her, dammit!'

Still fuming, Jerrod got up to get some chips and dip out of the kitchen and attempt to simmer down a bit, if only for Solya's sake.

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The mingling and reconnecting of friends, associates and—of course—last minute uninvited guests accompanying the invited ones prolonged the time before the games began by nearly an hour and a half. Guests gave high praise for the light fare dishes and ordure's to which Josie and Solya humbly accepted. At some point, it became a running joke that Jesse was an integral part of the cooking process, having peeled, sliced and cubed an `army's ration' of onions and potatoes. He made very formal bows occasionally and every so often, he'd glance at Josie and Solya and say very properly “My pleasure to answer Royal decree.” Some guests chuckled to this and the ladies offered up their little inside joke of `The Queens of the Kitchen and the lowly servant/prep cook'—kept an occasional mild outburst of laughter.

Jerrod overheard Jesse discussing winning strategies and, assuming he'd be Solya's partner as usual, is PO 'cause it appears Jesse `stole' her from him. He tried to slide into the conversation to state how they were gonna win the Boston prize this year and Solya was torn because, as the person that invited Jesse, she felt it only right to stick near him and partner with him. Jerrod mistook Jesse's laid-back nature for smugness and decided he just plain didn't like him much at all.

Since Josie is still busy with cooking and last minute setup, she suggested they have a quick game of 3-way Spades to decide the winner. Jesse won utilizing a powerhouse combo of carefully-played throw-offs and trumps—well known by everyone as a exceptionally devastating strategy used by Solya and Jerrod exclusively to demolish the competition—and Jerrod sneered and fumed inwardly.

You could practically see the air circulating the room, Jerrod's demeanor was so damn icy. As Solya struggled to keep a polite mask in place, Jerrod moved from concerned friend to Jerkasaurus Rex to not only Jesse but Shakey, which sucked, really, seeing as how the crew hadn't seen him in nearly two years. True, they've always had rocky dealings with each other—Jerrod just never truly coming to terms with the fact that Shakey was more worldly, brash and vulgar in the way he spoke and dealt with others—and he always strove to shelter Solya from such things, beyond her protests to the contrary that she wasn't nearly as green as Jerrod assumed she was. He literally taunted the guy and, if the kids were in the upstairs rooms playing games and coming down for occasional request for tray and cooler refills, a fight just may have broken out. Luckily, Shakey seemed to have mellowed out in his absence and that made one hell of a difference.

Well, golly…

As if knowing instinctively the thoughts he hid from the world, Solya crossed her arms over her chest and sighed under her breath, “Oh, for the love of…”

Jerrod looked hurt. Shakey just shook his head and popped a few Deviled Eggs in his mouth. Josie, observing the crowd, noticed and shot Solya a look that questioned a need for crowd control. Solya grimaced at Josie and shrugged her shoulders defeatedly. Jesse walked over to Kenny's carrier and let him out for a meet and greet with curious guests—crisis averted for now, Shakey loved dogs and was soon joining the small crowd taking in the small dog.

Between coos of adoration, manly rubs and pats, and inquiries into Jesse's cousin's kennel, much of the tension was diverted. Kenny, almost as if knowing he was the main event and a major diversion and Goodwill Ambassador, condescended to show his best tricks and preened under the praise. He even chose to demurely sit at the front door and barked only twice to be let outside, as opposed to scratching the paint off the door like most dogs do.

`Good dog.'

The games started after that and thought the tension and testosterone still flooded the room, only a few arguments started—surprisingly, not from Shakey, usually the resident hothead, or Jerrod—mostly on misdeals, books called over improper cuts and teammates fussing at each other from being cut over or not pushing Spades or some other such card jargon that pisses people off. Trevor and his partner won the Boston, which, as much as it disappointed the others, also pleased them since Trevor was looking for a new job and was low on funds. The prize was $250 and a $20 KFC gift card. He only gloated for two or three minutes and everyone took it good-naturedly.

Juan came in late with his girlfriend and stayed glued to her side. All the guys kept singing `Whip Appeal' and making whiplash sound effects around him. Juan just laughed and ignored them.

Later, Trevor gives Jesse some dap and relives the cookout they both attended with Solya. Overhearing, Jerrod give him the evil eye. When had he missed this? Solya pulled him to the side to remind him about his past suggestion to make new acquaintances, stating how he thought it was so much a test of growth to communicate and get an understanding of another person and how she thought he was being a bit hypocritical—Jesse included…they, unfortunately, were forced to agree to disagree.

Sad…

The party made it to 3:17 am before Josie, nearly ready to collapse, called it a night. Jerrod, Jesse, Solya and Crazy stayed to help clean up. Matt was given the duty of driving inebriated folks home and making extra room for the kids who spent the night. Juan put up the food and put the folded tables and chairs up before leaving, giving Jerrod a searching look before stage whispering that they REALLY needed to talk.

As Solya finished up and got ready to take the couch, too tired to even think about going home, she couldn't agree more. Jesse kissed her goodnight—on the cheek, luckily not in Jerrod's periphery—and took Kenny with him after the dog lapped every inch of Solya's face. Jerrod left silently without a goodbye and that was fine with her because, honestly, he was very quickly climbing to the top of a very familiar list.

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Sitting in the waiting room the following Friday, not at all looking forward to getting her brain picked by her new—no, temporary—therapist, Miss Bitch-On-Wheels Zayne, Solya lets out a heavy breath and slumps in her chair.

“Is she really that bad, Sols, or are you just having transitory issues with the newbie?”

“Oh, puh-leaze, Jazmin! Of all people, I really can't take any pseudo-psycho analysis from you right now.”

“Well, you do seem to be leaning on her pretty hard.”

“Oh, go douse yourself in accelerant and fling yourself into the very bowels of hell.”

Jazmin knew that insult wasn't really directed her way. The very fact that Solya asked Jazmin to accompany her to her therapy session—Jazimin instead of Jerrod—spoke volumes. She was trying to make a statement in her avoidance of him and was now venting absently on any subject she could latch onto. Wisely though, Jazmin chose to leave that for a later conversation. Well, yeah, dude went pretty caveman on her and in lots of ways embarrassed and infuriated her in front of Jesse and the other guests in ways that Jazmin saw, no matter how much she tried to shield her reactions.

“Wow…imaginative…” Jazmin drawled

“Oh, I do have more. Wanna hear?”

“Not so much, no.”

“Ah, well…”

“Look, Sols, I'm not trying to shrink you. Honestly, I don't think you could afford me, accredited or not.”

“Well, damn…”

Jazmin laughed and busted Solya on the cheek. “Listen, Deja—”

“—Ja-a-az…”

“Fine,” Jazmin exhaled with slowly-dwindling patience, “Solya, then! Listen, it's just new is all. She's a new person with new style, new method to her madness, and a new way of head shrinking you that you have to get used to. But, it's the same file, the same issues, and the same Solya. Just…just give her the gist of your crap and let her read your files for backup, like a good little psychotherapist.”

Solya snorted rudely and stared at Jazmin pointedly. Her face saying: “Yeah…right.”

`Geez, Jiminez, you really do carry those psych classes with you everywhere. Well, shoot. Solya inspires me—can't help it.'

Well, okay, yeah, Dr. Zayne wasn't her favorite person right now but, Dr. Busch wasn't either, when Solya began therapy with her. It took a bit and eventually, the interactions worked for the both of them. Change. Solya really hated change….

“So, you gonna tell me what's going on in that head of yours or are you gonna let me do my own deducing? I'm usually right, yanno.”

“Damn, you're nosey, Jaz—quit it.”

“Curiosity killed the cat and…well, you're usually nosey as hell, honey.”

“Oh…oh my gawd! You just quoted one of those Lifetime movies, didn't you, Jaz?”

“Yeah, I did. I really did. Cheesy but applicable.”

“Really.”

“And effective.”

“Ya don't say,” Solya mumbled.

“Anyway, back to the conversation at hand. After the last few months, I'd say you have enough drama available to fuel 45 minutes of conversation for her. And, I was there with you, Solya. The crap at the party…yeah, you need to talk to her.”

Solya pouted.

“For me?”

Solya chewed on her upper lip.

“I'll give you a cookie.”

That made Solya laugh. “Are you trying to give me love handles, woman?”

“No, just open you up a little. Look, I'll be the first to admit, Jerrod was, well, jerk-ish and deserves a time out but…Solya, don't freeze him out entirely. Talk to him. Fuss, rant, rave, kick, scream, pinch, but talk to him. It'll do you just as much good as it'll do him.”

“I dunno…”

“Believe me, it's necessary. And, talk to your therapist, girl. You know you're gonna be my Thesis so do me proud!”

Solya laughed again. Jazmin was too much, sometimes. “You suck!” Solya chuckled. “Using me for your good grades—you ought a be ashamed of yourself!”

“Maybe. Hmm, no, not really.”

“Yeah, you definitely, suck. Just a totally audacious—”

Just then, the receptionist called out. “Miss Amarante, Dr. Zayne will see you, now.”

“And you love me for it—keeps you on your toes. Now, mush! Go make me proud!” Jazmin enthused with a quick hug.

“Ah, shit…here I go,” Solya groaned.

A couple weeks worth of crap in one 45-minute session?

`Okay, Dr. Zayne, get ready to get your money's worth.'

A/N: Fell off the earth for like EVER, huh? I know, I know…terrible me! I'm thoroughly ashamed, I assure you. But, I'm back and I've got my Notebook doing what it does (with a Desktop screen hooked up to it so I can SEE what I'm typing again).