Dedicated to belle-rose for winning the Ian Award in the one-shot competition. Picture of Ian's Halloween costume for Charlotte.
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Chapter 16: Curiosity Killed the Cat and the Cat Caught the Mouse
"Ian, I'm not wearing this."
My mouth was slightly ajar as I gaped at the costume that he had selected for me to wear. It was a Minnie Mouse costume, and not the innocent one. It had a plunging neckline and a polka-dotted skirt that was a bit too short for my liking. Attached to the packaging was a headband with ears, which was the only part I would even consider wearing. Ian had even gone out bought yellow pumps in my size.
"Why not?" he demanded, looking lustfully down at the outfit laid out on his bed.
I knew I shouldn't have trusted him in the task of finding a Charlotte-appropriate costume. I should've bought a backup, just in case something like this happened again.
"It's so small that it could be a dog's costume."
"Minnie's a mouse, not a dog. That's Pluto or Goofy."
"I know," I gritted. "I just don't want to look like every other girl who's going to be there, advertising their goodies."
"But the difference between you and them is that you're not for sale."
"Gee, thanks."
"Well it's true. Unless I'm wrong, because I'm willing to buy."
"It's all off-limits."
"Not for Luke, I bet," he muttered quietly.
"What was that?"
"I bet you're legs will look killer in that."
I threw my hands up in the air. "Forget it. I'm not going to your little costume party."
"But you have to!" he whined. "I already told people you were going to be there."
"I'm sure nobody will notice, and if they do, they'll get over it."
"But I won't," he whimpered, looking up at me with glistening puppy eyes and a pout. "Please, for me, kitten?"
I sighed, giving in. "Fine, but I'm not wearing that." I pointed at the Minnie Mouse costume. "I'll just throw a white sheet over my head and call myself Casper."
His eyebrows shot up suggestively. "Just a sheet?"
"Of course not."
He crossed his arms. "A ghost isn't a very creative costume idea, but Minnie Mouse is!"
I shrugged. "I doubt anyone there will be dressed as a ghost."
"But this is a high school party, not a kindergarten one. People there will be sexy looking!"
"I'm not trying to look sexy for anyone."
"Not even me?"
"Especially not you!"
"What's the problem? It's not like people are going to be sober to even notice your lady parts."
Ryan was drunk, yet he still managed to notice me in my mostly modest party-wear last time. I didn't want to repeat history, because if it happened again, I doubt Tyler would be there to come to my rescue.
"I'm wearing leggings."
"Nude tights?"
"Black ones."
He grinned. "Sexy."
"And I'm wearing shorts."
His expression fell. "That's...less sexy..."
I smiled wickedly and held up the package that I had gotten him. "Happy Halloween, Ian."
"Am I Mickey?"
"Nope, you're bacon!" I saw it in the store and thought Ian would get a kick out of it. It was probably one of the last things Ian imagined himself in when he envisioned this night.
He eyed it like a piece of trash and scowled. "You're kidding me."
I shook my head, an evil glint in my eyes. "Not at all. This is what you're wearing."
"That is the stupidest costume in the history of costumes. I'm not wearing it. Do you know how many people will make fun of me if I put this on?"
"Okay, don't wear it."
Ian let out a breath of relief. "Thank the Lord."
"But that means I don't have to wear mine."
Ian had a stupid grin on his face. "I'm okay with that."
I slapped his shoulder. "I'm wearing another costume."
"Well that's no fun."
"I have an idea! I'll wear the bacon costume, and you can be Minnie."
His eyes flickered between the costumes, thinking, debating, mulling it over. He took a deep breath. "I'm going to hate myself for this, but it'll all be worth it."
"And your decision is...?"
"I just can't miss the opportunity to see you in that."
I sighed and threw the bag at him. "Enjoy."
He smirked, his eyes running the length of my body. "Oh, don't worry, I will."
"Perv."
"At least I'm honest about it—unlike a certain virgin I know."
"Shut up."
***
"I'm going to get something to drink," I yelled to Ian, averting my eyes from the couple making out about a foot away from me.
"I'll come with you," he mouthed, grabbing my hand and sliding us between grinding couples.
The kitchen was quieter, but not by much. There was a group of kids playing beer pong in the corner and a handful of stragglers conversing, but most of the people were in the makeshift dance floor. Ian was really good at transforming this place—it didn't even look like the regal place it once was earlier this morning.
I crinkled my nose at the chunky greenish chunks lying in the middle of the pristine marble floor. The person couldn't make it to the bathroom or a trash can before they vomited? Ian would have a lot of cleaning up to do in the morning.
Ian handed me a red solo cup that was half full. The pungent odor filled my nostrils—I immediately recognized it as beer. I shoved it back into his hands. "What is wrong with you? You know I don't drink!"
Ian ignored me. "You look cute when you're angry."
"Ian, I'm dead serious. What if the cops show up and we're arrested?"
He rolled his eyes. "That's not going to happen."
"What if it did? I'm underaged."
"Everyone here's underaged. It's no big deal."
"No big deal? Give me an answer here, Ian!"
"You want to answer? Fine, here's one. We run." If looks could kill, I'd be in jail. "Loosen up, will you? Don't be so stressed, have fun! Halloween is supposed to be carefree and adventurous."
"I'm not drinking."
"Then just hold onto the cup. No one's forcing you to drink. If you don't have one in your hand, someone else is going to give you one that might be filled with roofies or some other date rape drug."
I winced. I certainly didn't want that to happen. "If I get arrested, you better get me a good lawyer."
"The best—promise."
I sighed and put on my best face. "I guess it's time to stop being a stick in the mud and have fun."
"That's the spirit!" he cried, grabbing my freehand and leading me back towards the noise. He then proceeded to kiss me. "Sorry, couldn't help myself."
I shook my head, unable to help but smile. I couldn't explain how being around Ian felt like, it just felt nice and relaxed. I could always be goofy around him, but then again, he did bring out my adult side. It was a good balance.
We did all the normal party things—dance, kiss, socialize, and kiss some more. By the time midnight came around, Ian was totally and utterly drunk. It was okay because he was a funny drunk. He babbled nonsense in his slurred voice, which was huskier and louder than his normal one. It was literally the best thing in the world. I think I got temporary abs from laughing so hard when he talked.
"Didja hear about the geese who eat ducklings for supper?" he asked, making sure to emphasize the p's extra well. "They all died and ended in my tummy!"
Then he started rubbing his tummy, shouting out random lyrics from Christmas carols. Just as he was about to sing 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer', he collapsed onto my shoulder. I had ditched the cup long ago, just in case something like this would happen. I attempted to drag him up the stairs to his room. I wasn't sure if you were supposed to let intoxicated people sleep, but Ian seemed exhausted. What's the worst that could happen?
After being Hercules and getting him to his room and onto his bed, I took on the task of undressing him. I've seen him shirtless, and I'm sure he had boxers on, so there wasn't anything too wrong about it. If anyone had walked in at that moment, I would've been ridiculed for the rest of my life. I would've been known as the girl who raped bacon. Classy.
I pulled the zipper down, peeling it off slowly because I didn't want to disturb his slumber, not that anything could wake him. But if he did, it would be horrifying if saw me doing this. I would never hear the end of it. He'd be constantly making jokes and reminding me of this night.
The process of putting his pants on, which I did immediately, was extremely awkward. I waited a couple minutes before I slid his shirt back on. Alright, I'll admit it. I was admiring his chest like a creeper, but it was too pretty to resist. I found a loose fitting t-shirt on his dresser and covered him with it.
He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. I gently moved a dark curl that was covering an eyelid behind his ear. I stifled a giggle when he let out a snort-sounding snore. Ian snored, what a beautiful secret that needed to be spilled. After tucking him in, I kissed his forehead, muttering, "I better be getting a big thank you for this tomorrow."
I took a deep breath, closing the door behind me. I saw a shirtless Beckett, who was blatantly drunk because he was having a bit of trouble standing without tripping over his own feet. Getting drunk was so unlike him—he must be having a rough day. The look on his face, besides his red eyes, was terrified, yet extremely courageous. What was he up to?
"Can someone play 'Born This Way' by Lady Gaga?" he asked. The song that was currently playing—something by Rihanna—was cut short and Beckett's request came on. "I have an announcement to make. Can everybody gather around?"
Oh, no. Please don't tell me what I think he's going to say...no, Beckett, no.
"I am the world's greatest actor!" he pronounced. "I have fooled each and every one of you into thinking that I'm straight."
I heard a chorus of murmurs circulate throughout the crowd below. I should've stopped him, like a good friend. He was going to regret this so much in the morning. But then again, I let him keep talking, like a better friend. He was telling the world, no, shouting to the world, who he really was. Sure, he was under the influence, but he was being honest with himself, accepting it.
"But I'm not. I'm gay, homosexual, whatever you want to call it." Cue the collective gasps. "Yup, that's right. I'm a PENIS PERSON. Team Brad, screw Angelina."
"Yeah!" a person cheered.
And now was where I came in and saved him before he humiliated himself too much. I ran over and clamped my hand over Beckett's mouth. I helped him down the stairs and into my car. He got a couple glares and whoops on our way out. I was proud.
I don't think he ever told me where he lived, and he was absolutely no help. So I ended up taking him to my place. Dad usually wasn't up at this time, and if he was, I would just explain how Beckett doesn't go for my gender.
Luckily, I didn't have a run-in with him. That saved time and effort. I changed into my pajamas, stuffing the costume in the bottom of my hamper. I threw a pillow onto the floor and grabbed a spare blanket from the closet, making a bed for him on the floor. It was comfy enough, but I didn't want him to vomit on my bed. "Good night, Beckett," I yawned, smacking my lips.
"Night, Angel."
I laughed, snuggling deeper into the covers. "Did you just call me 'Angel'?"
"You've been sent from Heaven to me," he said seriously.
"You're not yourself right now. Shut your eyes and sleep, okay?"
"Mhmm."
I had no trouble getting to sleep. Taking care of players was a lot of hard work.
***
I pounded my fist on Alec's door, eager to get inside because it was as bit chilly outside. The white door opened and Alec appeared, a bright smile growing on his face. "Come on in."
He didn't have to tell me twice. I stepped in the door and was enveloped in warmth and the scent of White Barn from Bath and Body Works. I slid my flats off and followed Alec to the couch. I threw my keys on the wood and glass coffee table. Alec's home was really cozy. There were two suede couches, sitting in an L shape. A floor lamp sat in the corner, emitting a soft, yellow glow. The walls were painted a dark maroon color, closing the space in. It was the complete opposite of Ian's home, which was open.
"Make yourself at home, but keep your feet off the table."
I laughed. "Okay."
"I hope you like macaroni and cheese!"
"I haven't had that in forever!"
"It's one of my favorites," Alec stated, entering the kitchen. "Want to help me cook?"
I followed him, jumping slightly at the cold linoleum floor. "Sure, but I have to warn you, I'm a horrible cook."
"You can't be that bad," he replied, reaching into the cabinet and pulling out two boxes of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.
He rapidly withdrew that statement after I attempted to boil the water.
"Charlotte!" Alec panicked, rushing over to the stove with a dishrag. "You're supposed to watch it to make sure it doesn't boil over."
Whoops, my bad. It was too busy checking you out. "The bubbles are pretty?" I offered, backing up slowly. This is exactly why no one ever lets me cook. I have too short of an attention span for this kind of thing. When the time came, I'd make a horrible wife or mother. Maybe I could marry Samuel Homemaker or something, you know, like Suzy Homemaker.
He rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly. "Just stand over there and look pretty."
"That, I can do. So do you cook for your victims often or...?"
He frowned. "It hurts that you think of yourself as a victim."
I smiled coyly. "Aren't I?"
"Well, maybe, but isn't victim a bit harsh?"
I shrugged. Wasn't it harsh to take the innocence of unsuspecting victims and potentially scarring them? Perhaps he thought this whole game was okay, if he did, then he needed some sort of life lesson; the entire Top Four (and Luke) did. It was just beyond wrong. Maybe I could hold an intervention for them or something.
Alec scooped the cheesy goodness into two bowls, grabbed two spoons, and carried them to the living room. I would've offered to help, but he did it all so fast I didn't get a chance to. "Bon Appetit!" he cried in a horrible French accent.
I giggled and blew on the steaming noodles. "What is up with you and bad accents."
"They're entertaining, try it."
That was a little out of my comfort zone. "Uh...I don't know one?"
"You know what a British accent sounds like. Here, mimic me. The cat jumps rope."
"The cat jumps rope?" I echoed unsurely. Where did he come up with that sentence?
"Just do it!"
I sighed and swallowed my food. Here goes nothing. "The cat jumpsrope," I attempted. That sounded horribly wrong.
Alec winced and forced a smile. "Good try."
I sighed. "And this is why I'm not an actor."
There were a series of knocks on the door. Alec set his bowl on the table and stood up. "I'll get it. It'll just be a moment."
It wasn't just a moment. I finished off my lunch, letting Alec and his guest have some private time, as private it could get with the door three feet away from me. I tried to tune them out, but it was hearing distance. I gave up and started eavesdropping. It was a bad trait to have in life and I needed to get rid of it.
"Not now, Liz." Liz? Wasn't that the name of one of his exes? I recall Barker mentioning something about her...Was she a stalker? Did she stalk him often?
"Just keep her for an hour or so. I have to take my mom to the doctor," a voice, who I assumed was Liz's, exasperated.
"Can't you just leave her at your dad's?"
"Alec, she's already here. Just take her, please?" Her? Who was her?
"It's not my night, Liz."
Curiosity won me over and I made my way over next to Alec. A tall girl with long, wavy brown hair was biting her lip, staring crossly at Alec. That part was no surprise—the majority of his exes gave him that look. The real shocker was that there was a small, sleeping girl in her arms. The little girl shared Liz's brown hair, as it was a tangled mess resting on carrier's shoulder.
Liz's mouth made an 'o' shape and then turned into an accusing smirk, directed toward Alec. "I get it now. You have one of your bimbos over."
Before I could defend myself, Alec did. "Don't call her a bimbo. She's just a friend. And remember, you were one of those bimbos."
"Isn't that sweet? You're protecting her." She turned toward me and smiled sweetly, although the fiery in her green eyes said anything but. "Hello, I'm Elizabeth, the girl your lover knocked up. And this is our daughter, Maddy." She bounced the bundle in her arms and looked down adoringly.
I gasped, looking at Alec for confirmation. He was avoiding eye contact with me, looking guiltily at the ground. He looked like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, only this time, the stakes were higher than a timeout.
So it was true. Alec had a child, a baby girl. He was a father, with an actual child that he helped create, half his. And here she was, right in front of me. Maddy looked around the age of one, which only created more confusion. How did he keep her a secret from everyone at Addison for this long? An even better question, why would you want to keep her a secret? She was so cute! Once you became a parent, didn't you usually take responsibility, and you know, stop sleeping around?
"It's okay, Alec," I told him. The strange thing was that I wasn't angry. "I was just leaving anyways. Take care of your daughter. She looks like a sweetie."
"She is," he mumbled. "I'm sorry."
I grabbed my keys off the coffee table. Alec stepped to the side so I could exit more easily. "It was nice meeting you, Elizabeth."
"The pleasure was all mine," she chirped smugly.
I ran to my car and slammed the door shut. I pressed my foot on the accelerator and sped off. Two boys down, three to go.