The House that I Grew up In

Christy woke up in her bedroom with a splitting headache. She wanted to turn over and try to go back to sleep for a few more hours, but she knew she had to use the bathroom. After several minutes of trying to ignore her body, she threw her fluffy pink and white comforter off her body angrily and stood up, which just added to the pounding in her head.

"Josh shouldn't have made me drink so much last night," Christy complained to herself as she shuffled into the hallway in her turquoise silk pajama set. Hearing the shower running in the upstairs bathroom, she cursed under her breath and headed downstairs. It was bad enough she had such a raging hangover, but now she had to go all the way to the guest bathroom downstairs. Life sucked for her sometimes.

After using the bathroom, Christy got herself a big glass of water and some crackers, and took a seat on the couch. Picking up the remote, she started flipping between channels and leaned back, ready to try to ignore the dull ache in her brain by focusing it on some mindless entertainment. After finding a repeat of "Will and Grace" on Lifetime, she felt a bit better. For one minute.

Because, only one minute after Christy had started to feel just a bit relaxed, someone was knocking on her door. "Who the hell comes over first thing in the morning?" she thought crankily as she stood up and went to the door. Throwing it open, she rolled her eyes and shook her head at Quinn standing in front of her, looking surprised.

"Annabelle's in the shower," Christy snapped at Quinn, obviously even more displeased that she had been called from her comfortable spot on the couch only to find her hated neighbor at the door.

"I can wait," Quinn's voice was less hostile, but just as unfriendly, as Christy's.

"Whatever," Christy turned from the door and threw herself back on the couch, leaving Quinn standing in the open doorway. She watched from the corner of her eye as he stood still for a moment, thrown, and then stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him but not coming any farther into the room.

"You know, I told Annabelle not to hang out with you, because you're a loser," Christy said, her voice cold and strong.

Without missing a beat, Quinn responded. "And I told Annabelle not to hang out with you, because you're a bitch. Looks like she didn't bother listening to either of us," he added. "She must have a mind of her own. That must be such a novel concept to someone like you, Christine, who probably doesn't take a leak without checking with your friends first to see if it's okay."

"Take a leak?" Christy threw Quinn a disgusted look. "You're so classy. And here I was, thinking you were all culture, what with your criminal record, and that car you share with your mother, and those fine clothes you always wear..."

"Hi Quinn," Annabelle walked into the living room at that moment, her eyes nervous as they darted between the two other people in the room. She had only heard the last few pieces of their conversation, but just hearing that was enough to make her want to separate the two of them before the mud-slinging really began. "Hey Christy," she looked at the blond on the couch. "I hope you had fun last night. Quinn and I are going out for a while. Do you need anything while I'm out?"

About to throw a curt "no" at Annabelle, Christy suddenly realized that the girl must have covered for her last night, as her parents hadn't been waiting up when she snuck back into the house in the middle of the night, completely wasted. Apologizing to Annabelle and being nice to her seemed to have worked to her advantage, so she might as well keep it up. "No, thanks," she finally said resignedly. Giving Quinn one last dirty look, she turned to Annabelle and gave her a bright smile. "Maybe later we can hang out and watch a movie or something," she said with a syrupy-sweet smile. "You know, once you're done helping Quinn fulfill his community service or whatever."

Annabelle saw the look of annoyance on Quinn's face and quickly nudged him to the door before he could respond. "A movie later sounds fun," she called over her shoulder.

Shutting the door behind her, Annabelle looked up at Quinn with a blush filling her cheeks. "Sorry, I wouldn't have told you to meet me here if I thought she would be awake yet."

Grinding his teeth for a moment as he looked at the door, Quinn could feel all the muscles in his shoulders and neck tensing. As much of a problem as he had with most of the people in his school, he disliked Christy most of all. She was stuck-up, mean spirited, conceited and cruel. It still baffled him how someone as sweet and compassionate as Annabelle would bother trying to continue being friends with her, or ever had been to begin with.

At that moment, Quinn felt Annabelle reach for his hand to get his attention. He pulled his eyes from the door and felt every muscle in his body relax a bit as her gaze met his, her face still in a small apologetic smile. "No big deal," he told her, squeezing her hand and looking into her dark eyes with a grin. "Come on, let's go. I have to have the car home by four-thirty for my mom to get to work, and I want to show you around a bit."

With a big smile lighting up her face, somehow making her freshly scrubbed skin glow even more, Annabelle nodded happily in agreement. "Thanks for offering to do this," she replied to him. "I've been here two weeks, and I haven't really gone anywhere."

"I'm surprised," Quinn consciously continued holding Annabelle's hand as they walked to his driveway and hoped she didn't mind. "I would have thought that Christine would be trying to drag you to every party on Long Island."

Annabelle swallowed hard for a moment, not wanting to remind Quinn again that she HAD been to one party and it had been a disaster. She also didn't want to mention that, until last night, Christy had spent the past week ignoring her and being cold and distant, and that it seemed the only thing that caused Christy to be nice to Annabelle again was for Annabelle to go against her instincts and lie to Christy's parents. She still felt badly about that. "Let's not talk about Christy right now," Annabelle finally said.

"No problem for me," Quinn laughed, opening the passenger side door of the car and holding it open for Annabelle. "I've lived down the street from that girl for four years now, and I've never had a reason to talk about - or TO - her before." He stopped speaking as he watched Annabelle long, firm, tan legs slide into the car and felt his throat tighten a bit as his eyes wandered up her thighs to the bottoms of her shorts. He carefully closed the door and walked around the car blushing, having forgotten any thoughts of Christine and focusing instead on hoping that Annabelle hadn't noticed him checking her out so blatantly - nor noticed the fact that a small bulge had formed in his jeans as he did so.

-----

“This is DELICIOUS!” Annabelle exclaimed several hours later, after taking a huge bite out of her crab cake sandwich. “But the view makes it even better.”

Quinn followed Annabelle’s gaze, and realized it had been a long time since he had appreciated the view from the deck on the restaurant. The Long Island Sound was just a few yards from them, calmly ebbing and flowing in a gentle rhythm, several boats departing from the nearby dock on their way to a beautiful afternoon on the water. As often as he came to Cliff’s Crabs… he guessed his frequency caused him to often neglect how beautiful the scenery was.

“Yeah, forget about the fancy restaurants in Port Jefferson or over in the Hamptons,” Quinn agreed, picking up a French fry and dousing it in ketchup. “This place has the best crab cakes south of Massachusetts.” He pointed his fry at Annabelle to make his point, but accidentally splattered ketchup on her cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” Quinn chuckled, dropping the fry and grabbing his napkin. Leaning over the table, he carefully wiped the red sauce from Annabelle’s cheek, pausing only to look into her eyes for a moment while their faces were so close together. Immediately, he dropped back to his seat with a grin. “Apparently, I’m really into the crab cakes here.”

Letting out a warm laugh herself, Annabelle wiped any residue of ketchup from her cheek with the back of her hand. “I might have gotten mad before I tasted them,” she held up her sandwich with one hand and pointed at Quinn with the other. “But after tasting this, I can’t blame your emphatacism.” She paused for a moment before continuing, a shy smile suddenly taking over her bright face, and her dark eyes averting his hazel stare. “Also, I’ve had so much fun today, I wouldn’t want to ruin it by taking offense to something stupid. Because I want you to want to hang out with me more.”

Having just taken a big bite of his sandwich, Quinn almost choked as Annabelle spoke. The first reason why was because she seemed to be missing the fact that she could probably THROW her crab cake sandwich in his face and he would still want to hang out with her; he thought she was that cool. And the second reason was because he was amazed that she seemed to enjoy her time with him so much.

Quinn knew Annabelle had lived on Long Island until she was thirteen, so she would probably be used to the usual touristy attractions: Jones Beach, the Hamptons, the Ferry, and such. But since he had only moved there when he was fourteen, he decided she might enjoy his version of the Island. And unless she was just being painfully polite – which was a possibility with someone as sweet as Annabelle – she seemed to be enjoying herself. For some reason, Quinn believed she was.

After taking her to the local skateboarding park he frequented over the past few years, and the arcade where he spent most of the money he didn’t spend on drugs, and now his favorite restaurant, Quinn was trying to build up the courage to take Annabelle where he really wanted to bring her.

“It’s 12:30,” Quinn told Annabelle shortly after they squabbled over the check, with her winning out in the end after insisting that she treat since Quinn was showing her around. “If I’m not home by 4:30, I’m dead. But that should give us just enough time to get to Queens and back, if you’re up for it.”

With a perplexed smile, Annabelle realized she had no idea why Quinn wanted to drive to the New York City outlying county and back in four hours, but she had no reason not to trust him. “Whatever you want, I’m in,” she said, and suddenly blushed. “I mean, the crab cakes were great, so I’m up for driving to Queens with you.”

Biting his lip hard to stop from smirking at Annabelle’s unintended innuendo, Quinn stood and ushered Annabelle towards the parking lot. “I know it sounds crazy,” his voice suddenly filled with nervous appreciation. “But this… is important for you to see.”

Reaching over without thinking, Annabelle took Quinn’s hand. “Than it’s important to me that I see it,” she said in a strong voice, squeezing his fingers between hers as they walked towards his car.

-----

Despite her intention to never prejudge, Annabelle had always had a vision of Queens. She saw it in her head much like in films about Brooklyn in the 1950s, with big apartment houses and row homes, a bit tough and poor. And while most of Queens was somewhat like this vision, Douglas Manor was nothing like that.

The sun flit over the navy waters of Little Neck Bay, catching each small wave in shining silver, as Quinn and Annabelle sat in his parked car. On their way there, Quinn had explained that this is where he had grown up: excellent schools, good shopping, a park like setting, mansions on the water… His father had been a successful plastic surgeon in Manhattan, and easily afforded their decadent lifestyle.

“Despite what you, or anyone, might think,” Quinn looked out onto the water, not meeting Annabelle’s eyes and speaking for the first time in the fifteen minutes since they had parked. “I grew up privileged. Way more than Christine and her friends. And sad to say, up until middle school, I was one of those kids who thought they deserved it. Like Christine’s asshole boyfriend, Josh. No offense.”

“None taken,” Annabelle quickly replied, smiling softly at Quinn. “But I never thought anything particular about your upbringing. You never told me anything, so…”

Although Quinn expected Annabelle to follow his admission with a barrage of questions, she simply sat in the passenger seat, her seatbelt still on, looking around at the beautiful houses on the bay not with awe, but with confusion. “So…” she finally built up the nerve to ask. “Why did you bring me here, exactly?”

“I used to live there,” Quinn pointed at a nearby house. It was a beautiful Tudor right on the water, with stone and brick construction; it had exposed timbers and the windows featured stone trim. In actuality, it looked more like a fortress than a home. “And Jason, my best friend, lived right there, next door.”

The next house Quinn indicated was in much the same style, but a bit smaller than the first. “They are both exquisite,” Annabelle said with bated breath. While the homes in her old neighborhood on Long Island were lovely, they were nothing like the ones Quinn was showing her. These houses were obviously owned by the VERY wealthy.

Looking over at Quinn, Annabelle tried to read his confused expression. She knew, since he had driven her all the way out here, deep down he wanted to tell her about Jason. But she didn’t want to push him, in case he had changed his mind. Finally, though, the silence got to be too much for her. “Why did you bring me here?” she asked simply, biting her lip and taking his hand to let him know she wasn’t passing judgment on him.

Looking down at Annabelle’s hand, her lean fingers intertwined with his own, Quinn took a deep breath and thought about her question. “When I told you why I really went to jail,” he whispered, his eyes raising to the house beside the one he had grown up in. “You told me you didn’t think less of me, or something, because I was obviously a fucked up kid and that so was Jason.”

Annabelle nodded, agreeing she had said basically that.

Pulling his hand from Annabelle’s grasp, Quinn looked down and rested both hands on the steering wheel. “It’s not true,” he whispered, and even from that angle, Annabelle knew his beautiful jade eyes were filling with tears. “Jason wasn’t fucked up at all. He was always the smartest kid in our school – a REALLY exclusive private school. He was small, and quiet, and sometimes weak, but… damn, he was such a NICE GUY. I couldn’t help but like him, even though it didn’t help my popularity or anything at all.”

Annabelle waited while Quinn paused, knowing that what he was admitting at that moment was extremely difficult.

Finally, after a few frustrated minutes, Quinn continued. “Jason never would have gotten into that shit without me,” he spoke, but Annabelle immediately realized he wasn’t talking to her; he was talking to himself. “He always wanted to be my friend, even after my dad left, even after I started fucking up, even after I moved out to the Island.”

Suddenly, Quinn shocked Annabelle with sudden sobs. Not knowing how he would want her to react, she acted on instinct and drew him to her. Resting his head on Annabelle’s shoulder, tough badass Quinn began crying openly. She held him while he sobbed, trying to understand him as he muttered sadly “I’m so sorry, Jason,” and exclaimed angrily “I tried to leave you be, you asshole! Why wouldn’t you just go away?”

It took nearly fifteen minutes before Quinn could stop crying. “I feel like such a fucking loser,” he admitted with a soft chuckle, sniffling as he pulled away from Annabelle. “I mean… you are only here for the summer, and here I am crying on you about something that happened three years ago.”

Without a word, Annabelle shocked Quinn by opening the door, stepping out and walking around the car. “Get out,” she insisted at the driver’s side window.

If it had been anybody else, Quinn would have told the person to go to hell. But with Annabelle… Stepping out of the car and closing the door behind him, he suddenly realized that, although Annabelle was comparatively tall to other girls, she was easily four inches smaller than him. Despite this, at this moment she seemed larger than life.

With no forewarning, Annabelle threw her arms around Quinn’s neck, and he quickly wrapped his arms around her waist. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered into his neck.

“But if I he had never known me…”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“But he was so concerned about me…”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“But they were my drugs…”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

When Quinn said nothing in response to her last resistance, Annabelle pulled back a bit to look into his eyes, keeping him still in her arms. “Wanting to be a good friend… Peer pressure… Wanting to be popular… These are the reasons Jason got on that motorcycle that night… why he took those drugs… why he died.”

At those words, Quinn began to crumble, but Annabelle pushed on. “No, Quinn,” her voice was harsh but her eyes were kind. “Something tells me Jason had problems of his own – family, friends, girls, whatever… He looked up to you, yes. He emulated you, yes. Maybe he even copied you. But did you force him to take drugs that night?”

Biting his lip to stop it from trembling, Quinn looked into Annabelle’s serious eyes. “No,” he whispered. “I drove out here to buy them, cause we couldn’t get them on the Island, and he begged… he insisted… how could I make him look like an ass in front of everyone?” Once again, Quinn began crying, this time bending down to his knees and burying his face in his hands.

“Why couldn’t he listen to me?” Quinn pleaded with Annabelle from below tear-drenched lashes. “I knew I was going to do something bad to myself, but I wanted better for him. I shouldn’t have even let him know shit like that was out there.”

Looking into Quinn’s glassy eyes, Annabelle wanted nothing more than to pull him to her and take away all his pain. Instead of trying to pull him from the ground, she dropped to her own knees instead. “You introduced Jason to some stuff,” she said softly as she pulled his hands into her own. “And someone introduced you. And someone introduced the person that introduced you. But I don’t think you can blame anyone else for the choices a person makes.”

Reaching out, Quinn pulled Annabelle into a hug as they both fell to seated positions on the ground. He held her close, still crying, for a long time. Finally Annabelle pulled back. “I am so glad you told me all of this,” she looked right into his eyes, hoping how much he understood the truth behind what she was saying. “But your mom has to leave for work in an hour and a half. So can I get your keys, and I’ll drive, and we’ll talk more on the drive?”

Seeing how nervous Annabelle was, afraid of offending him and also afraid of inconveniencing his mother, Quinn quickly agreed. And although they spent the first hour of the trip in silence, Quinn not knowing what to add and Annabelle wanting to give him time, something suddenly changed in the last half hour of their trip.

“Thank you so much for not judging me, and listening to me, and taking care of me,” Quinn suddenly spit out in a slur of words.

“I would never judge you,” Annabelle replied simply, keeping her eyes on the road. “As for listening, I want to thank YOU for telling me all that. It took nerve. And as for taking care of you?” She glanced over at Quinn, only taking her eyes off the road for a second but long enough to give him a heartfelt stare before looking away. “You take care of the people you care about. And even if you don’t believe it, I care about you.”

Quinn and Annabelle didn’t say a word as they finished the car ride. Annabelle pulled the car into Quinn’s driveway at 4:27pm, with his mother waiting nervously. As the teens stepped out of the car, Karen smiled widely and rose from the front steps. “I should have known you wouldn’t let him be late,” she told Annabelle as she rushed to the driver’s side and took the keys. “You’re so good for him.”

“He’s good for me, too,” Annabelle gave Karen a smile and watched as the woman reversed and drove towards work. Looking over, she smiled shyly at Quinn. “I meant it. You are good for me.”

“I can’t see how,” Quinn replied shyly. “To me, I’m some major fuckup getting involved in the life of another really great person. And I’m so scared I’ll mess up things for you.”

“You won’t,” Annabelle promised simply with an encouraging smile. For a second, it seemed like she was going to step towards Quinn, but instead she stepped back. “Well, I should get back to Christine…”

“Oh,” Quinn looked surprised, and disappointed. “Okay,” he said, suddenly afraid he had done something wrong that day. “I mean-”

Suddenly, Quinn was cut off as Annabelle stepped forward to kiss… his cheek. Not exactly what he had been fantasizing for the last two plus weeks, but still nice. Even nicer as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

“You are such a good person, Quinn,” Annabelle whispered as she held him tight. “And your friendship means the world to me. I’ll come by first thing tomorrow morning, okay?”

Holding her closer for just a moment longer while taking in the smell of her shampoo, Quinn reluctantly released Annabelle. “I hope you do,” he told her honestly. “But I won’t blame you if you don’t.”

“Oh, I will,” Annabelle started walking towards Christine’s house. “I promise. On our friendship.”

“On our friendship,” Quinn repeated, too softly for Annabelle to hear. He stood there, tasting the mixture of sweetness and bitterness that flowed on those words.

“On out friendship.”

-----

A FEW WORDS TO REVIEWERS:

TWINKLINGDEE, THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE LONG REVIEW AND YOUR VIEWPOINT ON ANNABELLE. I HOPE I DON’T LET YOU DOWN!

NESL247, THANKS FOR POINTING OUT WHAT YOU LIKED. IT LETS ME KNOW WHAT TO HIGHLIGHT IN THE FUTURE.

7YEARS, THANKS FOR THE IN DEPTH ANALYSIS OF THE CHAPTER. I LOVE TO HEAR THAT READERS ARE GETTING INTO THE PSYCHOLOGY OF THE CHARACTERS!

GIRLFIXER, ROSIE, SPHYNX, AND JOEE FOR REVIEWING. I LOVE GETTING FEEDBACK – I CAN’T HELP IT! SO THANK YOU ALL!!!