Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 24: June 25, 1987

Jimmie awoke amidst a strange hour, not quite sure if it was the early morning or coming night. Peeking through the thick blanket covering the single window in the bedroom, she found the sky outside to be a dark, confused grey that left the girl almost aching for the peace she had in slumber.

She laid still for a moment or two more, eventually blurring into the stillness of five minutes, then fifteen. Vague recollections of last night passed through unfocused thoughts: a flash of pouring gold whiskey into a red solo cup, seeing Duff and his warm smile, smoking enough of Izzy's weed in the living room to provide for a thin smog in the air through each room in the whole apartment. Then, finally, concluding with the tranquility of sleep.

Strangely enough, Steven hadn't been featured in the series of memories. It was only when her eyes fell to his jeans laying by the floor that she finally thought of him. Though she didn't distinctly remember him being in the room- she didn't distinctly remember much, to be fair- evidence of his presence was clear. She wondered when he had been there, and found herself missing his comfort. Her hands absently found themselves against the divot of her collarbone to touch the metal pick hanging from her necklace.

Jimmie did, however, recall the throbbing ache of the migraine such careless drinking had bestowed upon her. The headache subsided to nearly nothing as she gathered her consciousness, and she figured all had been healed from a good night's sleep. Her tongue felt particularly dry and she thought about a drink to soothe the discomfort.

Upon actually sitting up in the bed, a watch- likely Steve's, though she wasn't sure why he wasn't wearing it- disclosed that it was close to 8 P.M. Explains the strange sky, she noted to herself, and finally stood. A second or seven passed as she grounded herself through the heels of her feet, wobbling for only a moment before regaining her balance. Jimmie wondered for a second if she should get a watch of her own to keep time and allowed the thought to be lost with the minute.

She brought herself to the kitchen, the rest of the apartment questionably quiet, save for a low humming of the television. Bringing her eyes to the living area, she found Duff sitting comfortably by himself.

Without thinking, her question tumbled from her mouth, "Why are you here?"

"I live here."

Thankfully, Duff wasn't easy to offend, especially with Jimmie's tendency to lack regulation in her tone. A lighthearted smile followed his faintly sarcastic response and she couldn't help but mirror his relaxed expression.

"I'm aware," she looked around for a cup and settled to rinse one off the top of the pile of dishes, "Are the boys out?"

Though the girl was no longer looking at him, Duff continued to watch her movements, "Yeah, somewhere." He found himself to be wary of her behavior after seeing over half of a brand new bottle of Jack Daniels gone from her night in.

"And you didn't join?" Her voice sounded absent, or perhaps just casual and muffled from behind the cabinet she was currently ransacking for a bottle that Duff had confiscated earlier in the day for this exact reason. "Nah, I mentioned a pizza and movie, didn't I?"

Of course, he knew that he had mentioned it to her during her state of a painful hangover. Typically, the bassist was one of the less cogent members of the band, with his infatuation with vodka and all, but around a drunk Jimmie, a paternal sense of responsibility and protection overcame any of his desires to get wasted and blackout.

"Maybe. I can't really remember. Hey, did the Jack get finished?" she asked as she closed the cabinet, then briefly scanning the countertops for any bottle she may have missed.

"Probably- y'know how it is. Are you hungry? I called in a pizza a while ago, should be here soon." He watched as she contemplated persisting her search for liquor and felt a sense of accomplishment as she gave up and met him on the couch. "Maybe. What kind did you get?"

"Sausage and olive, mmm." He hummed lightheartedly and genuinely at the thought of his order. "Olive?" she scrunched her nose, "C'mon, Bassist, I thought you were better than that."

"Don't worry, you can pick them off. I would've asked for your input but you've been out cold since like noon. Didn't want to wake you."

She didn't bother to say anything or even hum a response back. Jimmie simply focused her eyes on the screen and thought of how much weed Izzy could've had left in his stash.

"Hey, what bar are they at?"

Duff almost furrowed his dark eyebrows, questioning his assumptions that followed her question. She really wanted to go out after last night?

"Uh, I'm not sure. Could be a few places," he answered vaguely.

Jimmie found a bit of resistance in his tone but dismissed it as nothing important. Nothing important enough to hinder her plans for a night out, at least. "Wanna find 'em?"

Duff started to grimace in a way that suggested against her offer. Before his features could fully contort, she chuckled a bit and interrupted whatever response he could try. "C'mon, Duff, I feel like we rarely even go out anymore. I've never known you to be the one to deny partying, anyway. Must be feeling lightweight today.." she trailed off suggestively.

He scoffed, "Really, Jimmie? Let's not play this game, you know you'll lose before you can lick the rim off of your second cocktail."

With a shrug and an outfit already in mind, the girl stood up from the couch and retreated to the bedroom to retrieve her clothes, "Only one way to prove that, Duffy."

He nearly groaned aloud before succumbing to her mind-games and gathering his cigarettes and lighter.

The bassist thought deeply about whether or not this was a mistake and failed to admit to himself that he had no chance standing in the face of peer pressure and a pretty lady. Especially if that lady was particularly mischievous.

Before he could mentally solidify his statement about how he objected to this outing, she was strolling out of the door, leaving it open because she knew he would follow one way or another.