An Epic Battle [A1] {Indy}

[phoenix boulstridge]

Phoenix Boulstridge had a date. And he was going to straight up murder her ass.

Alright, so it wasn't really a date date. And he wasn't going to kill her kill her. Indiana Olsen was coming over to Phoenix's house to play Call of Duty.

Indy had to be the coolest girl that Phoenix had ever met. Most of the girls at his school weren't worth the time to speak to unless it was to sell them a little Xanax or to black-mail them about said Xanax to get what he wanted. Indy was different. Sure, she had her advantages: every once in a while she'd buy a little something from him, and any time he went in to her bar while she was working she made sure his drink stayed full without having to brandish his ridiculous because he still looked like a friggin eighth grader fake ID. There was so much more to her than advantages he could exploit, though. She was one of the very, very few people in his life that he genuinely liked outside of what he could get out of them.

For one thing, she was, like, a real person. She wasn't some phony baloney airhead that was always happy and acted like she loved everyone she met. Hell, Indy rarely acted like she liked anybody she met! She seemed to be just as bitter about reality as he was. She wasn't afraid to throw her opinions out there and didn't care whether or not you agreed with her. She had her own, unique sense of style instead of wearing whatever Aeropostale was selling that week regardless of how it looked. She was sassy and sarcastic and actually pretty funny.

And she kicked ass at video games.

Still, she was just a friend. Yeah, she was hot. And alright, if she threw herself at him, he'd be all over that. But feelings? Ugh, that crap was for the stupid, naive idiots who didn't understand the way the world worked. The only thing that came from sex and romance was manipulation and pain. He didn't need any of that in his life.

Despite what he told himself, though, he had took care to make sure things were perfect for her arrival. First, he had made sure his mom would be out for a few days on one of her stupid binges. He had loaded up the house with just about every soft drink and munchie snack you could ever want. He had done his hair, carefully picked out his clothes (tattered old jeans and a grey wife beater, along with an old Sox cap that had belonged to his dad), done his hair, brushed his teeth, cleaned up his living room, done his hair, pulled out his personal bag of White Widow (arguably the best marijuana ever grown) as well as a bong, pipe, and rolling papers so she could pick how she wanted to smoke. Then he went back into the bathroom to check his hair one more time. Because it's not totally ridiculous to worry about how your hair looks when you're wearing a hat. The only thing left to do was to get Call of Duty in the XBox 360 and set the controllers on the coffee table.

She should be there at any minute. He sat down on the couch and waited. His leg bounced impatiently. He reached down to pick up the bong and the weed, then set it back down. No. He was going to wait for her to arrive.

---

Click to see Phoenix's clothes. And his hat.

[indiana olsen]

Indy smirked to herself as she stared in her bathroom mirror, adorned in undergarments. Friends weren't something that happened all that often. Nix, however, was a particularly tolerable. The raven-haired girl made her way from the bathroom back to her room, where she pulled on a pair of jean shorts that had patches shaped in crosses, and a tank. She shrugged on a leather jacket and pulled her hair to one side. With a pair of sunglasses in her bag, she stuck a couple of beers in the bag as well. It was unlikely that she was going to drink either, but Indy had a feeling that Phoenix wouldn't mind the drinks. She grabbed a pair of socks and slipped on black Doc Martens.

Her relationship with Nix was particularly interesting. He was one of few people whose company she actually enjoyed. He was oddly entertaining and they had a symbiotic relationship going on. Small-scale drugs, particularly pot, for a bit of alcohol. It was relatively occasional, and it could easily be said that their affiliation extended past slight dependency. There was something about him that Indy couldn't place her finger on, but she liked. He was much more realistic, clearly not floating on some cloud nine that most kids their age were on, well not in the same sense. It was nice to see that not everybody was happy-go-lucky all the time. He was surprisingly much like her, in the sense that he was more alert and perceptive. Another little quirk that she appreciated was that he was pretty cute and funny, but that's besides the point.

Despite her regard, Indy was still as cynical as ever. Her views of humanity didn't change, and neither she nor Phoenix escaped her mindset. She wasn't looking for any sort of relationship, but having a friendship was a pleasant surprise. The two had similar views, which made holding some sort of connection easier. A prior meeting with the by had prompted the two to set up a video-game date. To be completely honest, she had been practicing her shooting. It wasn't every day that she was asked fire some rounds, so she wanted to be sure that she was prepared for the challenge. She was going to absolutely wreck Call of Duty, it was one of her most-played games.

As she stepped out of the house, she grabbed her helmet and the key to her Suzuki GSXR 600. Her shoulder bag slung across her body, she mounted her bike and took off, easily making her way to the Boulstridge home. She parked her bike in the driveway, propped it on the stand, and took off her helmet. After shaking out her hair from the fitted helmet, she walked to the door and rang the bell. She ran her free hand through her long, black hair and shifted her weight a few times as she patiently took in her surroundings.

[phoenix boulstridge]

Phoenix fingered one of the holes in his jeans anxiously. He told himself that the nerves had nothing to do with Indiana herself. It was more about just having a "friend" over to his house. Because of the way his mom was - and, of course, because he just didn't really have friends - he never had people from school over to his house. He and Dallas had had friends over to their nice house in Boston when they were really little, before Dallas and Dad had passed away. When Phoenix had been relatively new to Ashwick, before his mom had met her abusive ex-boyfriend, he'd had friends over to their apartment a couple of times, but everything in his life had changed when that guy came in to the picture. His mom's serious issues was his own little secret, one he guarded with his life. Sure, most people in the town probably had an inkling that she was on some sort of drugs, but he tried to keep his school life and his home life as separate as possible. It was embarrassing.

At least they weren't in the cheap, dirty little apartment any more. Two years ago - early in his sophomore year of school - he had used the money he earned selling drugs to move them from the Green Tree Apartment Complex to one of the smallest houses on Rosewood Avenue. No one knew that his money paid the mortgage and the other bills, of course; they all thought it was from the income his mom made at the hospital. She made plenty, too; she just happened to squander it all away on whatever drugs she could get her hands on. He was happy to pay the bills so he had a roof over his head and running water and electricity; the one thing he wasn't going to do was buy his mom her drugs.

When the doorbell finally rang, he jumped up and headed over to the door. He took just a moment to center himself before turning the knob and opening the door to Indy. A small smile graced his lips. "Hey, Indy! Come on in." As a hot-blooded male, he couldn't help but subtly check out how good she looked. He was actually about to compliment her on her rad shorts when a flash of shiny black in the driveway caught his eye. Instead of heading in to the living room with her, he actually took a step out of the front door.

"Holy crap, girl, is that your 600? That's a sweet ass ride!" Unfortunately, Phoenix didn't have a car of his own. He wanted to get one some day, but that didn't seem likely in the foreseeable future. He already had enough bills to pay. Usually it didn't really matter because he could always just borrow the ride of someone he had inside information on. At that moment, though, he was insanely jealous.

[indiana olsen]

Indiana Olsen didn't know much about Phoenix. In all honesty, she knew nearly nothing about him. She knew that he was in her grade, a dealer, and relatively unknown to anybody else. She knew he had a realistic personality, and that he was fun to hang around. Thus, she enjoyed his presence. Many things left her curious, though. Sure, she could infer that he didn't have a great home setting, but that didn't particularly matter. Inferences got most people nowhere, no matter how educated.

Her attention was drawn from her thoughts as she heard the door opening. Her blue eyes fixed themselves on the figure before her and she smirked slightly, the right corner of her mouth daintily curving upward. "Hey." Indy said simply with a quick wave. let her hand drop to her mid-thigh before hooking it in her front pocket. She ignored the fact that her cheeks were getting a tad warm as she gazed inconspicuously at the boy in front of her. He had a nice physique and wore the slightly battered clothing well. She stepped through the threshold, set down her helmet, and started to untie her laces. When she had one shoe off, she realized that he hadn't followed her into the house. She dropped the shoe next to her helmet and followed him out the door again.

With an awkward gait, the black-haired beauty walked toward the boy, one foot adorned with a plain black sock. Indy stood next to Phoenix, a hand on her hip and a slight frown on her features. She mindlessly let her fingers toy with the hem of her tank top, while she turned her attention to the blonde. She raised a brow as he spoke before suppressing a groan. She probably should've guessed that her bike was going to get so much attention.

Indy grimaced slightly and ran her free hand through her long hair. She pushed a few sweaty strands from her face and shrugged. "Yeah, it was a present from my mom's side of the family," she stated, not really wanting to dwell on the fact that she owned such a nice bike. Indy wasn't the type to talk about her possessions. In fact, she hated it when the attention was on her. In all honesty, though, her mother's family found great fun in showering her with presents. Why? She wasn't too sure, not that she was complaining. Smirking slightly, she turned toward Nix. "If you're nice, you can ride it." She teased him, flashing a smile.

She turned back toward the door and shook her head slightly. Her light chuckle resounded as she stepped back into the house and resumed taking off her shoes. After her shoes were neatly placed beside the door, Indy slipped off her messenger bag. She gingerly carried it to the living room and leaned it against the couch.

[phoenix boulstridge]

As was typical when it came to Phoenix, he knew a bit more about her than she knew about him. Yes, he knew that she was in his grade and not necessarily any more popular with the general student populous than he was. He knew she was drop dead gorgeous in a non-traditional way. She was as realistic about the world as he was, which, in his experience, was relatively rare among people their age (though not much more common among adults, either). He knew that her family connections had helped to get her a job as a bartender even though she wasn't quite legally old enough to do it just yet (though she would be in about three months). He knew that she loved video games. He even knew that she was pretty good at photography and writing (though it wasn't likely he was going to share his own writing with her any time in the foreseeable future; Mr. Dixon was the only one who'd had that particular pleasure). He knew she wasn't afraid to speak her mind - part of what made her so sexy. He knew her family was rich despite not knowing who her father was.

And, of course, he knew that she was smoking hot, especially in those tiny little shorts.

It took him just a moment to realize that she had entered the house without him, and he turned back towards her just in time to see the way she quirked her brow at his interest in her motorcycle. He smiled at her, all the while suppressing his annoyance that her family - not even her mom, apparently, but her family - had given it to her as a present. His mom couldn't even manage to pay the electric bill, and no one in his family had even cared enough to stop him from being molested. He swallowed down the bitterness - something he'd grown really good at over the years - and forcibly reminded himself that just because she got some of the great things in life didn't make her a spoiled rich bitch. Some day he'd have a great bike like that, too, and he'd have earned it on his own.

His smile widened when she said he could ride it if he was nice. "Nice" wasn't something he was used to being, but he could make an exception just this once. Obviously he'd planned on being nice anyways, considering he'd invited her over to his house and pulled out his finest green for them to smoke, but now he would have to be extra sweet and it would be totally worth it. Especially if she was on the bike with him when he rode, one of them with their arms wrapped around the waist of the other.

"Well, then! I think I can manage that," he replied, ushering her inside and following her over to the couch. "But don't think that means I'm going to let you win! Before we get started, anything I can grab for you? Drink, snack? Did you want to get high? I swear, this stuff I've got is the best you'll ever have - seemed fitting since spending the afternoon with me will also be the best afternoon you'll ever have." He winked playfully, waiting to see if she wanted anything before he sat down.