BEFORE YOU READ; tw: substance mention, vulgar language including derogatory terms that may be upsetting. TBA, i have no idea what else would go in here. (i do not condone any of these! i pushed myself when fleshing out these characters and their behaviours lol, i could never imagine talking to someone like this). i would not recommend minors to be reading some of this due to the content in it
this is the first draft so i uh… wrote whatever my brain told me to. i’ll fix every error once i’m actually done with this draft. lol.
The rain hadn’t stopped since early afternoon; it swallowed the ground, and washed the trees. It dribbled onto the van insistently without stop. The windows were covered in so much water that shapes and figures blurred outside; that was except for the windshield, where the wipers were fighting a losing war against the rain.
Unfortunately, no one in the van had been prepared for the rain, so they weren’t dressed for the occasion, especially the girls in the back who had the misfortune of sitting on the floor of the van. To Sam, it was actually quite cozy and comfortable, but it was still cold nonetheless whenever the heater would randomly cease to work. Sam wore low-rise jeans with a cropped hoodie, and Megan Blackwood — Who sat across from her hammering down a can of Jack Daniel’s — wore shorts with red ankle-high boots, ripped tights, and a cropped striped black and red cropped jumper. Andrea Monet was the only one dressed for the weather (as she always was): Cargo pants, boots underneath, and an oversized shirt tucked into her cargo pants. The bright side was that Megan had actually brought a portable heater that didn’t need to be plugged in. It was also ridiculously huge. Sam wondered how on earth had Megan carried that around, and how no one had noticed her with it; the only possible explanation was she sat in her Psychology class with the heater at her feet and left it there. It still didn’t explain how it magically appeared in the van. Whatever, that was usual Megan activities and Sam didn’t care to wrack her brain too much with unnecessary questions.
Glasshill’s ‘Bloom’ played on the aux, just briefly tuning out the thunder outside.
Logan Schmidt moaned, and swerved off the road into a trail in the woods as the GPS instructed. The sky had darkened, making the woods look quite creepy. Sam was glad that being in a group made the dark less threatening.
Logan kissed his teeth, “Who the fuck put this depressing music on?”
“I did,” Sam replied dryly. “It was my turn so I picked something I wanted.”
“This is funeral music. I’m changing it,” Logan said. He reached for the phone that was in Justin’s hands. Sam’s jaw clenched.
Megan snapped her head at the seat in front of her, her side pony tail swinging violently with the motion. “Who the fuck are you talking to, bitch? Be nice to your girlfriend. She likes that type of music so respect it. I swear, I don’t know why you always have to whine and moan about things you can’t choose. Shit, what are you? A little whiny wuss?”
“Doesn’t mean I need to like it as well—“
“Duh,” Megan’s voice got sharper, “But we’ve all agreed to take turns, so whatever music plays will play. Nobody likes listening to Justin fucking Abuserlake in this van yet we tolerate it for you.”
“I just think it’s too depressing—“
“I like it,” Andrea mumbled, she rolled onto her other side without lifting her head off Sam’s thigh. “I think it sets the mood. It feels very rural, and we are in the woods from all the rustling I hear outside.”
“Justin, help me.” Pleaded Logan. He ran his free hand through his blonde hair.
Justin shrugged his shoulders in the passenger seat. “The girls are right. We may as well sit in silence if we’re going to argue about music. Wait—“, he turned his head to glance at Megan, “—We could play twenty-one truths when we get there and pass the bottle of Wine you have in your bag.” He said, then turned his head to Logan. “You can’t drink, though. Driver and all. Sorry, man.”
After that, Logan hadn’t said anything else to Sam’s relief. Megan had decided that now it was time to let her friends know she had forgotten to take her Zoloft, and when asked where the medications were, she shrugged and grabbed another can of Jack Daniel’s out of her pocket.
“It’s like, I keep forgetting.” Megan said, “My dad keeps asking ‘Oh, Megan, did you take them this morning?’ And I feel like I have to lie otherwise he’ll get mad and go on a tangent about how useless I am.”
“How did we get here? All I said was wine and medication.” Justin sounded puzzled.
Megan shrugged, “I mean you kinda asked for this conversation. If you hadn’t asked, I would’ve still been on Logan’s dumb ass. Well, I could, but then I don’t want Sammy to be upset.”
Sam wanted to say that she absolutely would not care if Megan ripped into Logan and gnawed him verbally to shreds. Unfortunately, she did not want to cause a fight that would probably get the van crashed, so she sat in silence and ran her fingers through Andrea’s blonde strands. Andrea’s chest rose and fell peacefully, most likely asleep.
“Your dad calls you useless?” Logan asked, not innocently.
Sam knew what was coming. Logan was going to make a snarky remark as revenge for Megan saying she would absolutely annihilate his ass verbally, and they’d bicker all the way to their destination. Justin would keep quiet, and Sam would be forced to pick between the two and their points. If anything, she would always pick Megan’s. Logan was a bit of a prick and she wondered why she was with him, especially with her friends and family also wondering the same. Andrea… well, that was a 50/50 toss; she’d either wake up and tell them to shut the fuck up, or sleep throughout the whole ordeal.
“Let’s change the topic,” Sam said quickly.
“No, no,” Logan said, “I want to hear about Megan’s family life.”
“I said change of topic,” Sam accentuated the ‘change’. Christ, was this man idiotic or what? She swore there was nothing in that brick head of his.
“I mean, Megan has an interesting life. I swear her father hates her—“
“Shut the fuck up, shut up, shut your stupid mouth right now.” Megan snapped, her voice rising an octave. “Sure, let's talk about my family life when your mother gave birth to you accidentally when she was a crackwhore. Since you’re so fixated on purity, let’s look at who's closer to being ‘pure’. My parents got married then had children, still married, while your mother had to sell crack on the streets after her parents kicked her out.”
The car jerked and sped up into the dark with Logan silent. Megan had settled down and an uncomfortable silence engulfed the space. Even Justin, who usually tried to crack jokes whenever arguments would happen— lighten the mood and whatever, sat silent. It was no secret that Megan and Logan did not get along, and Megan often took it too far, but Logan never took accountability for starting fights and always pin pointed it on Megan being ‘crazy’.
Sam tapped on the seat in front of her lightly. Justin turned around in his seat, apparently with a knowing gaze, and was mid passing the phone when Logan said: “No music. I don’t feel like listening.”
Sam’s eyes darted to him, “So because you’re upset that means the rest of us have to be upset?”
Logan’s hand gripped the steering wheel, “Did you not hear what she said?”
“I did,” Sam said, “And I think you’re childish.” She wanted to say far more. How he never took accountability, how he still behaved like a 12 year old at 21, how he never respected her friend group she introduced him to. She didn’t, though. That would rub too much salt to the wound, and Sam did not want to find out what happened then.
She glanced over to Megan who rested her chin on top of her hand. Her other hand drew circles on the floor. Megan’s lips twitched upwards, as if the entire blowout had not happened. What a strange individual. Andrea turned in her sleep, but never woke. Sam let out a breath of relief.
Justin cleared his throat, “So uh… ‘She Wants Revenge’, anyone?”