Dru's friends were an odd bunch on the surface, not surprisingly. The girl who sat to William's left, Liz, had bright tufts of cotton candy pink hair that stuck up in wild, but no doubt carefully sculpted swirls atop her head. Her eyes were dark and animated and she was quick to laugh. She'd been babbling nonstop at William since he'd sat down and he found it mildly uncomfortable that he was having some difficulty concentrating on what she was saying and not being mesmerized by her multiple facial piercings and elaborate metallic eye makeup. He thought she was rather pretty underneath all of it. Dan, her date, sported a mass of blazing red dreadlocks and a Haunted Exile T-shirt, that, Liz explained, he'd designed for the band. Sam, the last of the trio, was nearly seven feet tall, towering over everyone when he stood. He seemed morose, contributing to the conversation in monosyllables when necessary and spending most of his time staring into his beer.
Liz took a breath and William looked up at Dru and sighed. He wasn't a complete fool, Dru had been dropping ever less subtle hints that she wanted to be more than his friend, though for the life of him, William couldn't understand why. She was older than he was, for one, why would she be interested in a high school student? They had little in common besides country of origin and a fondness for music. He certainly wasn't up for partying at this particular time, nor had he ever been the partying sort even before his current circumstances. But, the signs were pretty clear, even to someone as inexperienced in interacting with the opposite sex as William was. Dru touched him at every opportunity, greeted him with kisses and stared meaningfully into his eyes often, as though searching for something.
He didn't know how to handle it. She'd been a good friend to him so far, getting him the job and all, and he didn't want the situation to become awkward. He didn't know what was wrong with him anyway, Dru was undoubtedly beautiful and interested in him, a combination William had never thought he'd come across. He sighed again. Dru gyrated on the stage in front of him, staring into his eyes, but images of Buffy danced through his mind.
William knew Buffy would never be interested in him that way, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. His mother and Buffy were foremost in his thoughts these days. One caused him pain and the other - when the sadness was overwhelming, thoughts of Buffy provided a needed respite. Despite the fact that he hadn't thought she should be at the gym, his spirits had lifted when she'd told him she would be there on a regular basis. The awkwardness and embarrassment he'd been feeling had eased some, and he was left with the simple pleasure of her company that he'd admittedly missed since the end of their study sessions.
Logically, he knew Buffy's next boyfriend would come from her circle of friends, perhaps that Finn git. At least Finn seemed a better choice than Angel, though he didn’t seem terribly bright. But for a moment this afternoon Buffy had caught him off guard, when she'd looked up at him with those green eyes widening in what…surprise? He didn't know. He did know he'd had the sudden desire to kiss her and that he was glad Dru had interrupted when she did, sparing him the inevitable rejection. He didn't need to see those green eyes flood with pity and witness her struggling to let him down easily without hurting his feelings. He had no doubt that was what he would've seen; his Buffy was a kind girl and wouldn't want to cause him more distress. 'His Buffy'. Well, in his thoughts she could be, but the last thing she needed was another bloke directing unwanted advances her way.
No, he'd be careful to remain professional and not jeopardize the opportunities he did get to spend time with her. That was the best course of action.
He took another sip of his drink and turned back to Liz who was just embarking upon a new topic.
Afterwards, they all went back to Dru's. William sat next to Oz in the corner of the living room, waiting for Dru and Faith to return with drinks. William liked Oz best of Dru's crowd, finding the laidback, laconic guitarist soothing to be around. Oz, whose hair was currently green, was currently lazily picking out a new tune on his guitar.
Devon came over to join them. "Hey," he said, bringing a cigarette to his lips.
"Hello." William said.
Oz nodded at Devon.
Devon turned to William. "So you're in for it." He laughed. "My sister's talking about taking you shopping for some new clothes tomorrow, first thing. She's thinking retro - punk to be specific."
William's eyes widened. "My clothes are fine." He said emphatically, and shook his head, "I already told her I can't stay over like I did-" he mumbled, "that was a bad night…"
"Yeah, well, you know girls always want to change something about their boyfriends, don't they?" Devon grinned and shrugged, "Maybe she thinks she can change your mind on the staying over."
William looked at him, tongue-tied for a moment, and then regained his ability to speak, "Boyfriends?"
Devon's eyes twinkled in amusement, "Yeah, isn't that what you are? I know it's what she wants anyway. Kind of obvious."
"She's-" William paused, "Look, Dru's been very nice to me, well, barring the hair thing, she's been great, really. But I'm not looking for a girlfriend at the moment." Faint irritation crossed his face and his earlier feelings came out in a rush to her brother. "Why does she even want me anyway? I'm years younger, in high school even! Don't girls like older guys? We don't like most of the same things and some of the time I can't even understand what she's saying."
"Not alone in that. Dru's ummm different. My mother used to call her 'artistic' back when things between her and Dru were slightly better." Devon smiled, "As for why…Dru loves a project. Says she sees 'hidden potential' beneath the surface. Sometimes I think to her men are just more dolls for her to dress up and play with."
"Dolls?"
"Yeah, she's got a thing for dolls. You didn't notice her collection?" William shook his head; he hadn't noticed much of anything that morning he'd been so focused on his mother. Being half blind hadn't helped his powers of observation much either. Devon continued, "She's named them all and fusses with them constantly. She's the only grown woman I know who continues to have tea parties." He chuckled, "Her favorite is Miss Edith and that one's very particular." He rolled his eyes. "She says Miss Edith likes you and that's a point in your favor."
"I haven't, uh, met Miss Edith." William said slowly.
Oz looked up from the guitar and said seriously, "Hint: don't say you don't like tea."
Devon laughed again, "Yeah, look, Dru can be a little wacky, but she's had kind of a tough life. Our parents split the family when we were young and Dad took me here. She got stuck with Mom in London."
"Your Dad isn't always-" William didn't want to offend, "well, very nice to Dru, I notice. Is that why she stayed there?"
Devon quieted and said simply, "No. My mother is worse."
William felt sorry for Dru if that was the case, but he didn't know what to say. Fortunately, Oz found the melody he'd been seeking then and asked them to listen and tell him what they thought. William was happy to lean into the wall, the conversation effectively ended.
William left Dru's at around one. Sam had brought over some drugs and Dru's eyes were already glassy and her behavior even odder than usual at that point, so although William hadn't seen her taking anything, it was fairly clear that she had. Uncomfortable, he'd made his goodnights and set out for home.
He'd successfully managed to avoid Dru's attempts to lure him away from the others, first by pretending not to notice her unsubtle hints and then by involving himself in a lengthy conversation with Oz and Devon about writing lyrics.
William hadn't written anything for awhile, not since before his father died. He vaguely remembered what it felt like to be inspired and have the words flow onto the page effortlessly and also conversely, the frustration on the days he had to wrestle each one out painfully, striving to express what he wanted despite his uncooperative state of mind. He'd dabbled in poetry mostly, in addition to his diary entries, and though he didn't think his poems were very good, they were his own; his thoughts, his feelings, were preserved on the smooth cream paper of his journal and it was enough to know that they were there. He never showed them to anyone.
After his father died, the pages remained blank. His journal sat untouched on his nightstand, favorite pen atop it, waiting for him to open it and pour out his feelings in ink. He never did.
He didn't know why, but the urge to write had entirely deserted him and unlike the periodic dry spells he'd had before, he felt no inclination to struggle through this one. He felt akin to the blank pages. There was nothing in him.
He hadn't thought about writing since, until tonight. Talking to Devon and Oz about their words and their writing process had opened a tiny chink in the nearly tangible wall that seemed to have been erected around the creative part of his brain.
He climbed the stairs to his room, flipped the light on and reached under his bed. Removing his formerly beloved and slightly battered brown leather journal and the fat black pen, which his father had received for some work achievement, from the box in which they'd been immured for so many months, he lay down on his bed and opened to a fresh page. The pen swept over the paper unhesitatingly, forming fluid curves and loops of black ink on the pristine paper.
William paused and smiled, looking at the lines he'd written. It felt so right, like a puzzle piece slipping firmly into its place with a satisfying click. He put his pen to the page again.
Buffy rolled over lazily, waking slowly, blinking in the bright sunshine streaming through the window. Her dreamy state lifted and the events of the previous evening came back to her. 'Ugh, Parker,' she thought. 'Slime.' She pushed the covers off and sat upright, swinging her legs off the bed.
The conversation with her mother had been surprisingly easy to endure. Buffy had said enough to explain her call and need for a ride and no more. Her mother would've called his parents in a heartbeat had she told her everything and Buffy didn't think she could deal with any more that night.
She frowned, thinking of the abrupt change in Parker's behavior. She still didn’t understand. The date hadn't been going all that badly until the Bronze and she hadn't had any felt any uneasiness or had any warning signals before he'd accosted her. Suddenly, it all clicked and her eyes went wide with the realization. There had been something in the drink. That was the only thing that would account for how he'd acted.
'Bastard!' She thought angrily. He'd put something in her drink. She shuddered at the thought of what might’ve happened had she gone along with Parker’s request for a quieter, less crowded venue for the remainder of their date and Angel's warnings came back to her in full force. For a moment, she felt bad about her accusations about his motives in warning her away from Parker, but then she recalled what Parker had relayed about Angel and confusion reigned again. She groaned. Parker's believability was totally shot, of course, but what he'd said stuck in her mind and stubbornly refused to be completely discounted.
She worried her bottom lip anxiously. Buffy felt she ought to do something about her suspicions regarding Parker's little addition to her drink, but she had absolutely no proof with which to go to anyone. She turned this problem over in her head for a few minutes and regretfully decided that she couldn't do anything official at all. Fuming in frustration at this, she realized that this was probably how people like Parker were able to continue to operate as they did. With nothing but vague feelings and suspicions, there was nothing she could do.
"Ugh!" Buffy said aloud and grabbing her robe she stumbled to the bathroom to get ready for her shopping trip with Dawn.
End Note: Reviews would be lovely :) PS: Yes, Spuffier chapters are coming soon.