Survival Of The Fittest

(Private thing between myself and Leaky)

(Since this'll span the night of prom yet isn't actually AT the prom, I'm putting it here after blessings from mods.)

(Andrea Raymer continued from Sky's the Limit)
-------------

"Going out!"

No answer.

"Yeah, I'm taking off now, gonna do some underage drinking, maybe prostitute myself!"

Still no answer. Well, except for Alex sitting on the stairs and trying not to laugh. She smiled at him and tried once more.

"Don't know when I'll be back, if you don't see me tomorrow morning I'm probably lying dead in a ditch somewhere!"

Finally, Andrea heard a chair scrape the floor upstairs, then a series of slow footsteps. Then Joanne Raymer poked her head over the balcony atop the stairs and looked down at her daughter, clearly tired and irritated.

"Have fun, Andrea," she said, and disappeared again.

12-year-old Alex Raymer couldn't help but laugh as the footsteps retreated back to his mother's desk. Andrea grinned and slipped her feet into one of the 6 pairs of flip-flops scattered around the front door.

"Seeya, kid," she said, passing him a couple Ritalin before jogging outside and driving on out of there.

-------------

"Waaaaaaaatch meeeeeee fall, for you my Venus Doom
Hiiiiiiiiiiide myyyyyyyyy heart, where all dreams are entombed
My Venus Doom
Dreams are for you, oh Ville Valo you are too beautiful and tragic to be male."

Andrea sang aloud as she (sort of) headbanged her way down Cesar Chavez St., headed nowhere in particular. She could feel her heart bouncing around her chest cavity like a Mexican wrestler. The pills had been spread out over the course of the last hour, and by now her senses had soared straight past eleven and were sitting on twelve. It was beautiful. Everyone always thought she was joking when she'd make a remark about getting her mind to function at a higher level. And, OK maybe she didn't mean it a hundred percent LITERALLY or anything, but there was something there all right.

Tonight was better than usual. Had to be the Dexies. They never failed to perk her right up, probably because getting ahold of the stuff was crazy hard in St. Paul, so she was still sort of a novice with it. But hey, that was what she loved about her stims. Each of them hit you in a different way, and when you add something new to your regular mix, great things can happen.

She sported that euphoric feeling and a too-wide grin as the chain restaurants and retail stores flashed by on either side of her. The generic, ubiquitous lines and colors of their logos sometimes blended together into abstract neon-on-black rainbows. A definite improvement. Yep, that was St. Paul at night, the city so dull that you needed to get high just to see something remotely interesting. Not that she was THAT high, she was still way under the milligram level that would signal potential problems. And hell, she figured her driving skills actually improved at this stage, she was thinking on that other level, after all.

A limo passed by going the other way, and Andrea could guess where that was heading. Ah, prom. Hell, that was her reason for being out of the house and driving around aimlessly, because prom night is not a night for seniors to stay at home. Of course, wherever they went, Andrea certainly didn't think it HAD to be the freakin' prom. Prom offered nothing of value. Bad pop music, terrible dancing, kids who thought this was some day of grand importance in their lives, and let's not forget the teachers milling around to ensure that no one has fun at even at PG-13 level. Nah, Andrea Raymer was way above that, and besides, her T-Shirt/cargo pants/sandals combination might just be violating the dress code. Sure, she'd probably drop by an afterparty or two, but those wouldn't be starting up for hours yet. And she needed SOMETHING to do until then. She didn't want to sit around all amped up with nowhere to go.

Andrea pulled her mediocre car into a 7-11 lot and flipped open her cell phone. Then she closed it, went into the 7-11, and grabbed a Monster and a bottle of water. Sidequest completed. God, she hated that dry mouth feeling.

Back in her car, she pulled out her phone again and sighed as she cycled through the big list o' names. It was funny, most of the kids she was friendly with were actually GOING to prom, hell knows why. She had options outside the school, but Andrea figured it was still a night for Bayview. Besides, she knew who the perfect partner was going to be.

Andrea dialed and waited for the other line to pick up. "Heeeeeeey, Andrea. K, so uh, I figure we've both got a few hours to kill tonight. And I know that you're not doing the whole prom thing and I don't wanna leave you sitting at home all night smoking by yourself cause then you'll be lonely and I'll feel stupid if I keep driving around St. Paul doing fucking nothing, so I'll, uh, swing by your place, we'll take off somewhere. You up for it?"

((Sorry for the late introduction. Let's get this thing rolling!))

While most teenagers were met with the wonderful prospect of sneaking away from their parents to have fun, Chad Klitou was in the small minority that had to do something very different. Against all odds, he'd actually had to lie to his parents and convince them that he was going to prom when he wasn't.

With the end of high school almost a religious coming-of-age experience in his mother's eyes, she'd prattled on about buying him a tux and taking pictures with his date, all the while oblivious to the fact that Chad wasn't planning on attending. He hadn't even said that he had a date – all he'd even mentioned was that there were a few girls in school that he liked. Just with that comment though, Mrs.Klitou had jumped at the opportunity of her son going to prom and talked non-stop about it for weeks. From buying him a heart-wrenchingly expensive tuxedo and giving him tips on talking to girls, she'd never even stopped to think that he wasn't going. It seemed almost common knowledge to her that all teenage boys had girlfriends.

"Welcome to the twenty-first century", Chad thought and smoked his blunt.

He was sprawled out on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, his eyes glazed over and reddened. It was his prom night – or at least loosely qualified as one – and he was fully content with spending it high. It had taken forever for his mom to get out of the house (Eliza Klitou worked a rather time-consuming graveyard shift at a hospital) and her last words to him had been to, "show the girl a good time." At that moment, it had seemed like everything was coming up to swallow him like a dark wave. He wanted to expose the lie and tell her to send the tuxedo back; he wanted to tell her that his girlfriend didn't exist; he wanted to tell her that he had no interest in going to prom. But for what seemed like the first time in forever, Chad was at lost for emotion with his mother. She just wanted to see him happy. And how can you let her down?

Sprawled out on his mattress, Chad was only somewhat conscious of his cell phone ringing. Wincing slightly from an oncoming headache, he dug into the pocket of his jeans and looked in a daze at the caller ID – when he did, he was a bit confused. It was Andrea Raymer. A good friend and someone who would surely be out doing something on prom night, Chad was momentarily lost for thought. Why would Andrea call me? There's got to be some party animal somewhere she could spend her night with her. Did she even go to prom?

Chad flipped open his phone and said, "Hello?" Then he was met with a familiar voice:

"Heeeeeeey, Andrea. K, so uh, I figure we've both got a few hours to kill tonight. And I know that you're not doing the whole prom thing and I don't wanna leave you sitting at home all night smoking by yourself cause then you'll be lonely and I'll feel stupid if I keep driving around St. Paul doing fucking nothing, so I'll, uh, swing by your place, we'll take off somewhere. You up for it?"

Considering how he was confused and high, it took him a moment to take everything in. Andrea. Driving around. Wants to hang out. We'll take off somewhere. He sat up on his bed for a moment, unsure of exactly what to do. He'd really been too conflicted by the lie to his mother to think about much of anything else – he'd never considered the prospect that somebody would want to hang out with him. He pictured his Saturday nights the way they usually were, either sprawled out in his basement flipping through horror movies or smoking a blunt in his room. His house was his sanctuary – or at least during high school it was. How do you know this won't blow up in your face?

But this wasn't a bad person. This was Andrea Raymer: somebody who pretty much floated with the same crowd he did. The fact that she hadn't gone to prom was already a self esteem-booster. Heh, who knows? It's all about having a good time anyway. That's what Ricky used to say before he died. If you can't go to prom, you might as well go out for the party. What have you got to lose?

"Um yeah sure Andrea", Chad said quickly. "Yeah, that would be great. I'll just…ummm…get ready.

After a quick exchange, he shut the phone and scurried out of his bed in an aimless stupor. Scrambling to the coffee table at his bedside, he grabbed a stick of deodorant and quickly rubbed himself down. If he had time he would have taken a shower since he'd been in a sweaty, smoking room sprawled out on his bed, but with circumstances in mind, this would do. Shuffling into a new pair of jeans, Chad quickly rushed out of his bedroom and ran down the hall.

Five minutes later, he was waiting outside against his doorway and staring at the street, waiting for a car to turn around the corner. Don't mess this up..