`She walks like an old gypsy woman, [AUDREY]

[broo]

“Lindsay, where were you last night? Did you go out for a drink? I can’t believe you would do that, after everything that’s been going on, and, and you decide to do this? You’ve torn our family apart enough. You’re breaking my damn heart. You’re breaking dad’s heart! And mom? Well I don’t even want to start with her. Honestly. Are you totally selfish or do you really not understand what all of this does to the people around you?”

“Jacqueline. I visited Mr. Daniel’s last night. And that’s not a clever euphemism for getting shit-faced, I mean that I actually went and visited our 9th grade English teacher. He’s doing fine by the way. He asked after you. Feel like making even more of ass of yourself, or are you pretty much done?”

“Oh… Okay then.”

It was the same conversation over and over. Circumstances, times, and places could differ, but the formula remained stagnant: You weren’t home, you were out for a long time, were you out disgracing yourself and the family again? It was inescapable. But he should have known better than to expect different from his elder sister. He knew that she had his best interests at heart, wanting to protect her baby brother from making a mockery of himself and all, but at times it was overbearing. Her love and concern didn’t translate all the time, and more often than not, Lindasy was left with a sour feeling on the blade of his tongue after one of their altercations. She made him feel like a titanic disappointment. The trust they’d shared as children had seemingly become non-existant and the expectations she'd had of him had significantly lowered; at times it was almost as if she were expecting him to screw up again any moment.

Living with that would have driven anyone right out of their fucking mind. So naturally Lindsay sought an escape. Namely to a quaint breakfast nook that sold the best damn pancakes in town. Or at least it used to when he'd been a kid.

The place had changed little; there were still the girthy, roughhewn, wooden tables, the large bay windows that looked out onto the sleepy main street, the warm “mom and pop” atmosphere, and the same spectacular looking pies of all shapes, sizes, and flavors, displayed in their folksy glass casings. The way that the blade would slice into the plump desserts, causing the brilliant purple of blueberries or orange or peaches to spill forth was a childhood memory that Lindsay clung to fondly. Yes everything was very much the same; save for the large assorted jam and jellies display that now occupied the space where an enormous, tacky jukebox should have been.

It was quite early in the morning; barely 7:00 o’clock when Lindsay ventured inside the pancake house. Normally, Lindsay rarely ever witnessed this ungodly hour, but the night's sweats and terrors had prevented deep sleep from visiting him. Technically the place wasn’t to officially open for another hour or so, but Lindsay knew that the proprietor would be there. Perhaps he’d be able to swindle him into making him an early batch of pancakes before the ladies groups and the elderly couples shuffled in for their regular Sunday morning routines of orange juice and eggs benedict. Clad in nothing more than an undone navy blue bathrobe, a grey ill-fitting T-shit barrowed from his sister, and a pair of white and blue striped boxers, Lindsay entered the café, the gentle twittering of the welcome bell signaling his arrival. Venturing from the depths of the kitchen came the squat middle-aged proprietor, his hands already covered in flour from the day's first batch of pancake batter. “We’re not op—Lindsay? Lindsay Scott, my god, is that you?” The man’s eyes bugged as he registered who’d just walked through his door, his large ears turning a deep shade of lobster pink. “Yup. In the flesh,” Lindsay replied with a sheepish grin, wrapping the robe tightly around his middle. “It’s a little early but… You know, an insatiable appetite for pancakes is a hard thing to quell. I was wondering if maybe you could whip me up a batch of your famous fluffy ones?”

The compact man enthusiastically ushered Lindsay to one of the many empty tables, a wide smile seizing his lips. “Of course of course! One batch of hot cakes coming right up! My god, I don’t think I’ve seen you since… Well since you graduated high school! Gosh, you’re all grown up aren’t you? All famous and living with the stars up there in Hollywood, eh? Heheh. My daughter’s a big fan of yours. You remember Ruthie don’t you? Just made me a grandfather the other month! Lord how the time flies don’t it!? Why it seems just yesterday you were here with your father after soccer practice havin’ yourself a slice of rubarb pie-“ The squat man continued to chatter to Lindsay for a solid ten minutes, filling in the gaps for him about the happenings of the town in his absence. “So what brings you back to the ol’ homestead?” the man asked Lindsay after a good while of focusing on the topic of grandchildren. Lindsay suddenly felt his tongue go dry to the point where it almost felt spiny; like if he made any attempt to answer he might cut the roof of his mouth with it. “Uhh… Well,” he began, running a broad hand over the top if his coffee colored hair. “You know. Family. Visiting the nieces and such. Felt it was important to start seeing them as often as possible. How about them pancakes? I’m starved,” Lindsay said changing the subject perhaps not as seamlessly as he could have managed, but it did the trick; the little man was already bustling off into the kitchen.

Lindsay in his new found solitude at the table looked out the window to his right, watching as the sleepy New England town began to wake. Stores were slowly beginning to open, shoppers headed over to the Sunday market up the road to catch an early sneak-peak before the afternoon rush began, and joggers periodically stopped at the cross walk to wait for the occasional car to pass. It was all too surreal being back here. Living in his sister’s house at the edge of the creek, having family dinners every week, visiting the marina; all these things that were so familiar to him seemed as if they were from someone else’s life. Someone lighter than Lindsay and unburdened with past mistakes. Lindsay eyed himself in the reflection of his spoon. He looked distorted, yet oddly enough, it was the only surface that really showed how he felt on the instead; stretched and out of place. Lifting the spoon to his lips, Lindsay expelled his breath on the cool smooth surface and attempted to use the condensation as adhesive so that he could stick the utensil to his nose.

[madelinefranco]

The good thing about living in a small town like Capeside was that there were always those establishments that would never disappoint, such as Pat’s Bar, or the bowling alley, and various little diners- particularly ones with divine pancakes and coffee that could wake her right up or pull her out of whatever degree of hangover she was experiencing (although she wasn’t that big of a drinker, anyways, but the point was it could). The small “mom and pop” shops were her favorite, considering her family owned one (the flower shop) and others just reminded her of simpler times. Although she was more attracted to the big city night life, Audrey loved the atmosphere of smaller towns. So while she may have had a dirtier- so to speak- reputation amongst her peers (being a tease, liking to go out all the time), she also had a side of her who enjoyed bonding with the patrons she’d known since she was a kid.

Unfortunately, whenever she wanted something like pancakes, it was too early and everything was closed. This morning was, seemingly, no different.

It was Audrey’s day to open the shop and although it didn’t usually open until nine, her sister had been riding her ass about the mountain of paperwork sitting on the office. Of course, leaving so early meant she couldn’t pick up her usual cup of coffee on her way and God knew she wasn’t about to make any herself. Too lazy. Too early. But as she drove by the local diner she loved so dearly, she saw the back of someone’s head, sitting on a stool. Talking to the owner.

Oh, hell no.

Being the stubborn woman that she was, she wasn’t going to just let some guy sit there and charm his way into pancakes before they technically opened and not go in and gain the same benefits. She drove around the block and pulled into a vacant parking spot outside of the diner. If nothing else, she was going to annoy her way into getting some damn coffee. It didn’t matter how tired she was. She’d talk someone’s ear off into they gave her caffeine and they were going to like it. Or not. Whatever.

Audrey slipped inside quietly, taking a moment to judge observe the male at the counter. Her eyes narrowed slightly at his familiarity- it only took one glance at his attire to put a specific name in her head. And sure enough, as she took a few cautious steps closer, her suspicions were confirmed.

Oh shit. Lindsay Scott was back in town.

The way she saw the situation, she had a few options. The first, which she ruled out immediately, was just leaving. Last they spoke, they hadn’t exactly been on the best of terms. Actually, they’d been screaming at each other. Another option was to just ignore him and get her coffee which she also wouldn’t do because she had too much of a need to make a comment to everything and too much of an attitude to just not say anything to him. And then there was the option of just having an attitude with him, but she didn’t want to do that, either- she’d had more good times with Lindsay than bad and if she were really honest with herself, she missed having him in her life. For years, he’d been her rock. She supposed it had been her fault that they grew apart- what with the kind of people she’d grown to like in High School and her reaction to some of his… Romantic decisions- but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about him.

Pressing her lips together, Audrey decided on a course of action and sauntered up to the counter, hoisting herself up onto a stool, leaving a few in between herself and Lindsay for safety reasons. Twisting her earring around for a second, she waited until the proprietor poked his head curiously out and a smile broke out into her face. ”I’ll take the same thing this dashingly dressed man is having. Unless he’s having anything other than pancakes and coffee, in which case, I’ll take that and question his tastes.” Her gaze slipped to Lindsay, then, and she eyed him for a long while before opting to finally speak up.

”You might want to be careful. If that spoon never comes off, I’ll have to start spreading around the rumors that you have a spoon nose. Unwitty, perhaps, but very detrimental to a person’s reputation. Goodness. You’d never get laid.” Alright, so that wasn’t particularly clever, but it was better than a simple ‘hello’ and she thought it showed him well enough that she didn’t have any ill-intentions. A smirk played along her lips as she ran her fingers through her hair, suppressing a yawn.

[/size][/justify]

[broo]

Have you ever experienced a pang before? A pang so powerful that it knocks the wind clean out of you? The kind that holds your stomach at gunpoint and swells your tongue up to the size of a grapefruit, rendering it impossible to utter a single sound? He’d only ever felt one once before and, ironically enough, it had been with Audrey. It had happened during the swan song of their friendship in his senior year of high school. By this point they’d stopped speaking to one another; the only communication shared between the two was furtive glances that were never held longer than a mere millisecond. It was the day of his graduation that the pang occurred. As a favor for his mother, Lindsay had gone over to the Franco residence to return a food processor that had been borrowed ("We've had this damn thing for eons. Please be a good son and give it back so that I don't seem like such a horrible person? You're gunna have to suck it up and do it because I've gotta finish up at work if I'm gunna watch you get that diploma!"), and whilst returning it to Audrey's mother in the foyer of her modest home, Lindsay caught sight of Audrey in the other room. She was fixing her hair in the mirror; nothing extraordinary. Her iridescent blonde locks were coiled up in an intricate knot at the base of her skull, revealing pearls that dangled from her ear lobes like smooth drops of milk. He watched as she fussed and suddenly felt like he might cry, roar, and bleed all at once. Watching her, someone who had played an integral part in shaping who he was, and knowing that he could never have her just about killed him. He wanted his buddy back; his confidant. His better half. But their indefinable relationship had become so twisted, so warped, that it was rendered unsalvageable. Even if he’d apologized for whatever nasty things he’d spat at her during their last row, he doubted that would really sort anything out. There was entirely too much subtext between these two that any sort of amiable reconciliation would have been futile. So he left without a word. He left the image of her wonderful, familiar face screwed up with the concentration of grooming, and drove to the school for the ceremony with about a hundred sour words weighing heavily on his tongue.

The pang he was feeling now as he saw her for the first time in years? Ten times worse, and nine thousand times more confusing.

The initial impulse that he had when he first heard that familiar voice of hers was to jump at Audrey; to tackle to her to the ground and cling to her in a tight grip reminiscent of a starfish hermetically sealing itself to a boulder. But after taking a moment to think about it, Lindsay decided that it might be kind of inappropriate. Instead he drank her in hungrily through his periwinkle blue eyes –keep in mind the spoon was still stuck on his nose, making him look embarrassingly stupid—unable to formulate any words to respond to her. Time had been remarkably kind to her; turned her into nothing sort of an uncommon beauty. All traces of the gawkishness girl she’d used to be had fled. The baby weight she’d carried in her face had softened leaving her with a pair of surprising cheekbones, her lips appeared fuller, and –though this may have been an invention all of his own—her eyes appeared more piercing. Bluer. Her knees were the same though; knobby and child-like. He silently wondered if she got the same scrapes on them as she used to when they were kids and if she still covered them in those colorful Band-Aids that were so classically Audrey.

He’d often wondered what their next meeting would be like if indeed they ever saw each other again. He half expected her to still be angry with him for the fight they’d had as teenagers; to carry the animosity with her over the years just in case she wanted an opportunity to unleash her aggression on him in the future should they run into each other. However looking at her now, she appeared nothing but open and friendly. The moist spot on his nose that acted as the adhesive that kept the spoon in place suddenly grew hot, prompting him to say something. “You’ve called me worse,” he said, blinking gently, searching her blue eyes for a moment, though unsure of what exactly he was looking for in there. Finally after an extended pause, he removed the spoon from his nose, turning the utensil over in his hands idly. “Personally, ‘butt sucker’ was particularly cut throat in my opinion,” he said, finally cracking that crooked half smile of his that was so classically Lindsay.

It was almost like old times. Not quite the same, but almost. He could feel the years of estrangement separating them, as if they were tangible entities, but in this rare moment of normalcy between the two where they’d somehow managed to find their cheeky pattern of conversation that was uniquely their own, it was like they’d reached across the vast expanse of missed time and had brushed each other’s fingers for a fleeting moment. And it felt good. The good, warm feeling however was followed by a violent bout of longing; the kind that only comes from extreme regret over missed opportunities and abandoned friendships. He wanted to reach out to her and wrap his pinky finger around hers in the way that they used to do as kids instead of holding hands, but the strange undulating of his stomach brought on by the pangs stopped him. All he could do was look at her, head cocked, drinking in as much of her as he could. “You’re so…. Blonde,” he said rather lamely, tapping the spoon against the side of his head while he leaned his stubbly cheek on his other hand. “And pretty. When did this all happen?” he teased with the faintest hint of a smile.

[madelinefranco]

As much as Audrey wanted to keep her smirky, nonchalant attitude, the sight of Lindsay with a spoon stuck to his nose just brought her back to better times and she broke out into a grin, raising an eyebrow in a questioning manner. He?d always been so playful- that had been something that had drawn her to him when they were kids. His readiness to invent new places and things with her, as long as go along with her shenanigans, had been an extremely attractive quality right from the get-go and she found that she missed having that in her life. Sure, there were people who could substitute. There was Landon, who was her go-to guy whenever she wanted to go out dancing, and a few other people she could count on for random bouts of fun, but no one could compare to Lindsay. Maybe it was because the two of them had that magical childhood bond that made it hard for her to pretend that anyone was better. They weren?t. Lindsay was? Lindsay.

She had, indeed, been keeping up on his career since he left Capeside. He?d made it big and he was the talk of the town- Audrey never missed a single episode of? Well, anything he was on. Sure, they?d fought, but it didn?t take her long after to actually miss him. It had just been her stupid pride that kept her from trying to reconcile with him. Not only did she figure he didn?t want to talk to her, but what they had before seemed too far out of reach and she didn?t want to feel the disappointment she was bound to feel upon realizing she couldn?t get it back. So she?d lived for so many years with the mindset that if she did get the opportunity to talk to him again, it would go well, although she never really had the intention to initiate conversation. And really, she hadn?t ever expected him to show back up in Capeside. He?d made it big- he was always on her television screen, all over the internet, the talk of the town. ?Did you hear what Lindsay Scott did?? was a phrase she commonly heard. There really wasn?t any escaping him. Hating him would have been a complete waste of her energy when she was constantly reminded of the friendship they?d once had.

There was no one quite like Lindsay Scott.

Audrey took a second to, again, regard his appearance. He was looking at her with that spoon still stuck to his nose in utterly ridiculous attire. Although he?d been dethroned, so to speak, because of drugs, she didn?t really regard him as the addict he apparently was. If she?d come in to discover anyone else behaving the same way, she would have spent the day making a mental list of what they were on. But Lindsay? No, she fully expected it from him. He had such a playful nature and she was glad that age had not taken that away from him. He looked older, sure, but behind it all she could still see the boy she?d spent the bulk of her time with- his eyes, his smile. She felt her stomach flip at the reminder that she had lost this- the very thing that had been able to make her happiest.

There were still various times in her life where, when things were tough, she?d think to herself ?Man, I wish Lindsay were here?. It was stupid and pointless- regretting the trivial things they had bickered over in High School was a waste of time. He was long gone by then and she never really expected to see him again. But when her brother went to jail, and her parents divorced? Those were the moments she missed her best friend.

And there he was. Sitting beside her. With a spoon stuck to his nose.

Go figure.

When he first spoke, the smile on her face faded ever so slightly- she had called him worse, that was true. It occurred to her that perhaps he hadn?t been able to see past what happened quite so easily. Right. Audrey was prepared to shy back (or retaliate, depending on what his next words were) when he mentioned the words ?butt sucker?. Immediately, she lightened up again. ?What can I say? Call ?em like I see ?em,? she grinned cheekily, raising her eyebrows in unison.

Glad they were at least kind of falling into step, she shifted in her stool, crossing one of her legs over the other. ?Oh, the blonde thing? That happened when I was born, you know. Save for the whole summer of ?07 ordeal when I went brunette and had a lousy time,? she shrugged nonchalantly, her gaze momentarily flicking up to see (rather impatiently) if her coffee was being made yet. ?As for the pretty thing,? she continued, lowering her gaze back to lock on his face, the smirk set on her lips once again, ?That happened about a year ago. Woke up one morning and bam, pretty. Never would of thought, huh? Me, of all people. Pretty. But alas! Miracles do happen.? Honestly, if there was one thing about herself that she didn?t doubt, it was her appearance. She knew she was good looking and often used that to her advantage. No, she didn?t expect anyone to think she was the sexiest woman alive, but in Capeside? She ranked, and she knew it. Flaunted it, even.

Waving a hand in his direction, Audrey cocked an eyebrow. ?And look at you, Mr. Hollywood. All big time now, aren?t you? I must be ordinary in appearance compared to all those California girls who probably were all over you all the time. Probably forgot all about little old me.? And honestly, she pretty much expected that he actually had forgotten all about her. She wasn?t really present in any aspect of his life when he wasn?t in Capeside, so really, why would he have to think of her?

[/justify][/size]