Jeremy (jcartegna) wrote in mcdermott_game, @ 2009-06-29 10:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | bex, bex/jeremy, jeremy |
WHO: Jeremy Cartegna and Bex O’Shaughnessy
WHAT: Paintball. Do I need to say more?
WHEN: Midday during the fundraiser, 6/27
RATING: PG.
Crouched down behind a low wall, careful to keep very still and very quiet, Bex wondered how this had happened.
It seemed like every time she turned around lately, she was getting herself into yet another ridiculous situation. This, however, had to take the cake. Never in a million years would she have believed that she would be in the middle of a school carnival, playing - of all things - paintball. And getting massacred at it.
She was breathing a bit raggedly, not used to running around, ducking, jumping, and throwing. And getting hit; even though she wore protection over her clothes, it still hurt a bit, each time she was pelted with another paintball. Paint was smeared on her hands, her face, her hair. And she was almost out of paintballs, but hardly any of hers had actually done much damage on Jeremy.
She'd finally taken shelter behind one of the dividers that made up the small paintball course on the outskirts of the quad, but it was only a matter of time where Jeremy figured out where she went. Bex shifted her position, digging out a fresh paintball from the pouch around her waist, believing herself to be ready to hit when he did. She peered around the side of the divider, gripping the paintball in her hand - too tightly. It splattered, blue paint running over her palm and fingers. Frustrated, Bex snapped, "Goddamn it!" Easily giving away her own position.
It had been a productive day, in Jeremy's view. He'd bantered with Natalie and now he was playing his second favorite sport next to Calvinball. Paintball actually came pretty easily to him, despite the fact that he would ordinarily not have had any coordination at all. Perhaps it was simply that the object of the game was to get as messy as possible, and get others even messier.
And Bex was a good target to have - she was failing miserably at this game. He had to admit he took some particular pleasure in creaming her every few minutes, just because he could, even if he suspected that wasn't exactly endearing him to her.
Jeremy snuck up behind her, and watched as she smashed the paintball, trying not to laugh. "You do know you're supposed to hit me with that, and not yourself, right?"
In response, Bex hurriedly tried to dig another paintball out of her pouch. She came up with a red one, turned, and threw it at him. It barely grazed his arm before falling and splattering in the grass behind him. "In case you haven't noticed," Bex said, glaring at him, "I'm not very good at this game."
Jeremy grinned. "No, you aren't, Aly." He had found out her full name - it was, after all, listed in class rosters, and Jeremy was nothing if not sneaky enough to bribe a fellow tech geek to hack in and find it somewhere in the system - and now chose that nickname to replace Rebecca. He thought the way her face changed colors when he said it was enough fun to keep using it. "It's okay, though. I take pity on you right now. Truce? For a few seconds anyway?"
Bex gritted her teeth, slowly climbing to her feet. His new nickname grated on her nerves; she had no idea how he'd uncovered the unfortunate reality of Allison, but she was not pleased with it. At all. "Don't call me that," she said, folding her arms and wondering how she could sneak a new paintball to pelt him with, as soon as his guard was down.
"Don't call you what, Aly?" Jeremy looked down at her, and shook his head. "Okay, relax, you've got that raging bull look on your face again. Do we need to go get you a cotton candy to make you feel better?"
"No." Bex took a breath and let it out again; the frown didn't leave her face, but her shoulders did relax slightly. "You can stand there and let me hit you a few times, though."
"Direct hits bruise." Nevertheless, he spread his arms. "You get two shots, Aly, and then it's my turn. So I'd make them good if I were you."
Bex narrowed her eyes, and then drew a deep breath, reaching into her pack for her last two paintballs. She should have simply agreed to a truce; with her luck, she'd miss both shots and then he'd go back to massacring her. However, his latest use of Aly irritated her enough to want to try to hit him anyway, consequences be damned.
Her first throw wasn't anything to speak of. It sailed cleanly over his shoulder, falling to the ground a few feet away. Her second shot, however, was precise and fueled by pure frustration. It hit him in the temple and splattered, fresh yellow paint spilling over the left side of his face. Bex couldn't help it; she burst into laughter, feeling the rest of the tension leave her. That had been worth it.
Jeremy blinked, reaching up to push paint away before it trailed onto his goggles and left him partially blind. The rest of his face was pretty much a total loss, however, and he spat paint before realizing that Bex was actually laughing. He stopped just to see it, giving her a few seconds to enjoy his utter bewilderment. "Oh, you think that was funny, do you? Well, grasshopper. You have much to learn."
He moved forward, and with a smattering of paint, managed to completely redecorate her hair, adding blue streaks that hadn't been there ten seconds earlier. "Now, personally, I think that was hilarious, Aly. Blue is so your color."
"Not funny," Bex said, but she was still grinning. "And yellow is so your color. Really."
"I know," he informed her smugly. "I've chosen nothing but sun shades for my summer wardrobe."
In response, Bex reached out, running her hand over the right side of his face with her palm; the blue paint from the paintball she'd smashed in her hand had not quite dried, and was now providing an interesting contrast to the yellow paint already on Jeremy's face. "That," she announced, pulling her hand back, "is a work of art."
"Am I in school colors? I think I am. You do realize this stuff tastes foul? And therefore now I need to punish you?" Jeremy retorted.
Bex lifted her shoulders slightly. "There's not much else you can do to me. I'm already a mess," she returned with a smirk.
Jeremy nodded. "I know. I'm rather proud of that, actually." He lunged regardless, and tackled her to the ground, intending on simply dumping the paintballs on her - they'd break upon impact anyway, and the mélange of colors amused him.
"Jeremy!" Bex shrieked; he took her down easily, and her surprise registered across her face. She struggled, of course, but she could barely pick up her little brother anymore, let alone push away Jeremy. "If you smash those on me," she said, "I will kick you where it really hurts."
"Fortunate that cups are part of the gear, right?" Jeremy looked down at her and grinned. "Face it, Aly, you've lost. I won. I'm still the master here, and you are just the learner. Oh, Darth."
"Did I mention that I hate you?" Bex asked.
"Awww. Coming from you, that's a direct declaration of love." He only dropped one, a red paintball that splattered between them and hit her torso. "Aly, Aly, Aly."
"The cup's got to come off eventually," was all Bex said, glaring at him. "When you least expect it, Captain Shatner. I will hurt you."
"You are just adorable," Jeremy returned with a mockingly loving look; he proceeded to pull back and yank her with him to her feet. He was a bit on the clumsy side, so they weren't entirely steady when they came up, so he was still holding her when they finally stood. "I will attempt to respect that, grasshopper."
Bex just rolled her eyes, leaning against him for a brief moment as she got her bearings back. She considered shoving him right back down again, and stepping on him for good measure, but she'd never be able to pull it off and, besides, despite the act she was putting on, she wasn't actually that angry. God knew why. Maybe it was just Jeremy.
She pulled away from him, removing her goggles and gingerly touching a paint-soaked section of her hair. "I hope you realize I'm going to have to wash my hair, like, fifteen times."
"And your day would be otherwise occupied how?" Jeremy reached out and tugged a section of it with a smirk. "Besides, like I said. Blue works."
"I bet." Bex shook her head, knowing she looked ridiculous and taking solace in the fact that Jeremy did, too. She glanced over at him and, despite herself, let out a slight laugh.
"You're going to have to stop laughing, you look human. And very much like a girl." A pretty, normal girl, but Jeremy didn't say that.
"I am a girl," Bex retorted.
"Yes, but not an emo girl. You don't look bitter or angry or like you want to bite me." He chose to smudge some of the red paint still on his hands on her nose. "It's a good look on you, Aly."
Bex wrinkled her nose, automatically reaching up to wipe away the paint, and forgetting that her own hands were still a mess. She only succeeded in getting more paint on her face. "I hate you," she said again, starting toward the manning booth, so that she could return the goggles and protective gear.
"You don't hate me. You might actually like me if you gave me half a chance. And then where would we both be? I mean, I'd have to stop mocking you. Well, okay, stop deliberately mocking you." Jeremy followed her, shifting his paintball bag from one shoulder to the other.
"But if you stopped mocking me, we'd have nothing to talk about," Bex returned.
"Gosh and golly, you stumped me," he replied, clutching his chest.
"Gosh and golly?" she repeated, cracking a grin in spite of herself. "Well, gee willickers, Jeremy, I think the 50's would like their lingo back."
"I know, but I'm totally waiting for Wally and the Beav to come find me and beat me up first before I stop using it." Jeremy nodded like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"They wouldn't beat you up. They might, however, give you a good, stern talking to," Bex replied.
"True fact." Jeremy slung an arm around her deliberately to be annoying, and grinned. "Would you beat me up, Aly?"
"Keep calling me that, and we'll find out," she said. She almost shrugged his arm off of her, but then decided not to, for whatever reason.
"Well, considering I could have dumped paint on you instead, there are worse things than name-calling," he pointed out. "And technically Allison is your name."
"Bex is my name," she returned.
"Not according to the record books." He glanced toward the manning booths and stopped, pulling away from her. "So why Bex?"
She shrugged, looking back at him. "Why were you looking at my records?" was her reply, eyebrows slightly lifted.
"I asked first," Jeremy countered.
Bex sighed, shaking her head and glancing away from him. The simplest answer - it's short for Beatrice, Beatrice is my middle name - should have been the one that she gave. But it wasn't the real answer. "Because I like it," she said instead, after a long moment. She looked back at him. "Because it's mine. It's who I've always been. If I have to live my whole life with a name, it should be one that I like. One that says who I am. My parents ... they wanted an Allison, but I'm not an Allison. Never will be. So ..." She let out her breath, and shrugged. "Bex."
Jeremy didn't say anything to that. There wasn't anything mock-worthy about it, really. It made sense and it was actually mature, which he approved of. Maturity in everyone else was a good thing, and it was unexpected in Bex. It was ... strangely okay, something to like her for, which in and of itself was strange. But he went with it. He merely tugged on a chunk of hair and changed the subject, heading for the manning booth. "You need cotton candy, grasshopper. It has been a very long game and the sugar will help wounded prides. I'm not saying whose. Just to make you feel better."
Bex followed him with her eyes for a moment before falling into step behind him, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Only if they have purple cotton candy," she said, only somewhat reluctantly. Purple cotton candy and paintball. If she allowed herself to think about it, she'd admit that she was actually having fun.
"Purple cotton candy? No, I'm sorry. Blue. Think about your colors," Jeremy said, pretending exasperation. It faded quickly, however, when he looked back at her and flashed a grin. "Okay, purple. Just because you were nice enough to paint both halves of my face."
"Not everyone would have," Bex agreed.
"I know. Most people would have gone for painful colors, too. You just went blue and yellow. I match. I look like a sports freak." He paused. "Which I must kill you for, in retrospect. But at least you tried."
Bex looked over at him, and snorted. "What, like you weren't a jock in high school?"
He just looked pained at the very idea. "Do I look like a jock to you, really?"
She shrugged. "Kind of. Is that a bad thing?"
He sighed. "Now I understand why you can't throw a paintball to save your life. You're clearly blind, and therefore in need of much aid. There is a reason my best friend is a writer - and an emo writer at that. I wear my geek badge with pride, and wore it for most of my awkward teenage years, thank you very much."
"What?" They'd arrived at the manning booth, and Bex set her goggles down, and then concentrated on the rest of her gear. "You don't look like a geek. And you throw a mean paintball, so it's not out of the realm of reason to assume you've got some kind of athletic ability. I mean, I'm just saying." She grinned at him.
"That would be Griffin's fault." Jeremy admitted the name without thinking about it, which was pretty much the only way he could think of his brother without flinching. "My brother, the athlete. I had to absorb some of that via osmosis to not get killed every time he was bored."
"Well. I suppose that makes sense," Bex agreed. "Still. You should wear glasses more often or something, if you want to play up the geek thing."
"I actually own glasses," he admitted. "I use them when I get tired. But I don't wear 'em all the time, which is probably why you got confused."
"Probably." Finished with giving her gear back to the guy behind the booth, Bex folded her arms and looked back at Jeremy. She actually wore glasses sometimes, too; for reading. She didn't want to say so, however, lest he assume that she was a geek, too.
He shrugged. "The geek thing should happen to the best people at least once. Just once. It's fun."
She mirrored his shrug. "I'll take your word for it."
"Good. Nothing to worry about if you follow my lead," he teased.
"It's not a bad place to be, Aly. Besides, our groups share boundaries," Jeremy pointed out.
Bex arched an eyebrow. "Do explain."
"Music snobs and film geeks. Don't you know we can be just as pretentious as you?" he returned.
"I'm not a music snob," Bex said, which was a total lie.
The only decent reply to that was a snort.
Bex made a face at him. "I just think that there's good music and bad music ... and everyone should listen to the good music."
"Yes, grasshopper." Jeremy nodded gravely, folding his arms over his chest. "Good music, everyone has to have it. Trouble is, not everyone has the taste to pick it out, right?"
Bex eyed him for a moment, and then let out her breath. "Yeah, well. Besides, you're pretentious, too. You said it yourself."
"Pretty much!" he agreed cheerfully. "I don't mock in other people what I can't recognize in myself."
"Hold on while I give you a gold star," Bex said dryly.
He patted her on the shoulder. "As long as it's big and shiny."
She rolled her eyes. "That's all it takes to make you happy, isn't it?"
"Pretty much. That and some purple cotton candy. I'm a man of simple desires."
"Good to know." Bex smiled at him, and then looked away again just as quickly.
"Yep." They finally made it past the manning booth, cleaned up as best as they could, and Jeremy looked back at her, arching a brow. "So. Have you ever tried cotton candy and milkshakes?"
Bex gave him a look. "The term calories means nothing to you, does it?"
"I told you, I will graciously let you chase me around for a while after I say something stupid, and you can work them off." Jeremy smiled winningly.
Bex snorted. "Graciously, indeed."
"Well, you know you'll want to, judging how well you take my offensive sense of humor," he pointed out.
"Or I could just kick you," she replied with a smirk.
"You could, but who would make you do fun things if you disabled me?" Jeremy retorted.
Rolling her eyes, Bex just began walking. "Yeah, yeah. My life would be boring without you around," she said.
"It would be," he confirmed. "Besides, I'm too obnoxious to miss. I'm also painted blue and yellow. Who else do you know that's painted blue and yellow?"
"Superheroes?" she guessed.
"Well, yes. True fact." Jeremy slid his arm around her shoulders, steering her in the proper direction for cotton candy. "You'll live with me, I can tell. You may not like me always, but that's okay."
"Sometimes I even hate you," Bex agreed.
"True, but you tolerate me most often," he answered.
"Yeah. I still don't know why," she said, grudgingly.
Jeremy had to grin at that. "Because you need someone to annoy you into having fun. You laughed today, Aly. Come on. Who makes you laugh around here?"
"It happens more than you think," she returned.
"I'd like to hear proof of that more often, then." He didn't let her go until they'd gotten to the stand, and he ordered, reaching for his wallet.
After they'd gotten their cotton candy, Bex gingerly picked at hers, giving Jeremy a sideways glance. "You know, I haven't actually had cotton candy since ... I don't even remember," she remarked.
"You were waiting to be covered in paint and in need of a a good post-loss comfort," Jeremy told her. "Nothing is more comforting than cotton candy, except hot chocolate in the middle of winter."
"Yeah," Bex agreed, smiling slightly. In the city, they never got much actual snow, but sometimes there would be a storm, and everything would be blanketed in soft, white powder. Last winter, she'd taken Hayden to Central Park after a heavy snow, and they'd spent the afternoon making snow angels and throwing snow balls at one another. Back at home, there had been hot chocolate. Hot chocolate, and gingerbread cookies that Hayden had made; they were lopsided and tasted a little strange, but Bex had eaten three. The memory stuck with her, one of the few warm, comforting ones that she had.
There was a softening to her features when she agreed, and Jeremy found it uncomfortably charming. So he shifted once more, trying to find a new topic they could both be comfortable with - or uncomfortable, as it were. He'd started on the cotton candy, ignoring that it was turning his fingers purple; they were already stained, so what did it matter?
"So," Bex said, also feeling the need to change the subject. She ate a bit of cotton candy, and then shook her head, amusement crossing her features. "You know, enough of this stuff could send someone into a sugar coma."
"I've eaten more than enough sugar today to cause several comas. I think you'll live," Jeremy told her.
"Maybe," Bex returned, shaking her head, and eating a bit more. She liked it, the way that there was a quick burst of flavor just before the sugar dissolved onto her tongue, sharp and sweet.
"You will. I have faith."
"At least one of us does."