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SOMETHING ABOUT BAD BOYS Author: Sparrows Mistress Disclaimer: I don’t own Johnny Depp, Wade ‘Cry-Baby’ Walker, or any of it. It’s all Universal Pictures. For that matter, I don’t own Mike Jacobs, first base hottie of the Florida Marlins. Summary: Falling asleep in front of the TV, watching the old black and white reruns, was normal for you. What’s not normal is waking back up in the 50’s, caught up in the biggest white trash party you’ve ever seen on the Redneck Riviera, music courtesy of the Cry Baby Gang. Cry Baby catches your eye right off, but the gorgeous man has sworn off girls after Allison went back to Baldwin. Cry Baby agrees to help you get back home, somehow, but what happens when you start to fall for the delinquent? Will you be able to deal with leaving him behind if it comes down to that? Or, will you give up everything for him? ~For Lucky Sparrow~ * * * * * CHAPTER 1 “How can I be out of ice cream?” you whine, shuffling things around in the freezer. Your Ben & Jerrys had to be in here somewhere. Life, as you knew it, was going to end unless you found your New York Super Fudge Chunk. After searching for another ten minutes, you were forced to admit that it was gone, probably no thanks to your mother. “Great” you grumble. “There better be some popcorn.” One week out of the month that you desperately wanted chocolate and you couldn’t have it! The Marlins had lost… again. Your team was simply in a slump and they would pull out of it, you were sure but for now you needed comfort food. Baseball had become a way of life for you since you’d dated Mike Jacobs, the first baseman. Why wouldn’t you date the hottest guy on the team? Your daddy was the teams attorney. Although the relationship was over now, you still never missed a game; you and Mike had remained very good friends. You shift the contents of the cabinets around, searching for the box. Finally, the box was in sight and climbing onto the counter, you reach it. Tossing the bag into the microwave, you wait, smelling the flavorful butter aroma that fills the kitchen. Dumping the fluffy food into a waiting bowl, you melt some butter then pour it over top and add the salt. I Love Lucy’s theme song resounded in your bedroom as you turned on the TV and fell onto your bed. God, it didn’t get much better than Lucy. Something about the ditzy red-head still made you laugh, no matter how many times you watched her. Pushing your Marlins hat back from your eyes, you engross yourself into the show. Lucy and Ethel working in the chocolate factory was a riot and the uncontrollable bursts of laughter spouted from your mouth. Those two women were nuts! A light knock comes at your door but it barely registers in your mind. Steadily the beating increases and until you turn down the TV and wipe the tears from your face. “Come in?” you call, sitting up in the bed. You mother pushes open the door and steps inside. The dark blonde hair was rumpled from sleep and her pink terry clothe robe was tied tightly around her waist. “Are you enjoying yourself?” she asks, looking at the TV and back to you with a smile. “Very much” you reply. “These old black and whites are great.” Candice, your mother smiles at you then shuts the door behind her. As he hand descends towards your popcorn, you shield the bowl. “Didn’t you have enough of my ice cream?” you accuse, glaring at her. “Shut up and give me some popcorn” she laughs, taking a handful. “How was the game?” “We lost again” you moan. “Mike took it pretty hard.” Candice smiled down at her daughter. Somehow, even through the bad break-up the two had, they had remained best of friends and she was so proud of her for that. “Mike always did,” Candice agrees. “I still never found out what happened with you both?” You rolled your eyes and looked at your mom. She meant well, she really did, but she never knew when to drop something. Mom had been nothing special when she’d met your dad; she’d been a right off the farm, country girl that fell in love with a city man and they’d made it work. Dad, who had been visiting Baltimore, had ran into your mom on a drive in the country. Her parents owned an apple orchard and were open for business for the summer. Mom had been up a ladder, picking another basket, when her foot slipped and fell to the ground at dads feet. Twisting her ankle in the process, dad scooped her up and carried her back to the barn. They’d been together ever since. Mom was a firm believer that you would fall in love the same way. Never in this life would you fall at the feet of a man. “Mom, just leave it” you ask. “Hey,” you asked, changing the subject. “When was Aunt Allison coming to visit again? This weekend or next?” you ask. “Next weekend. Uncle Baldwin couldn’t get off of work this weekend” Candice replied. “Why does he have to come? He’s such an ass” you mumble. “Be nice” Candice warns with a smirk and presses a kiss to your forehead and bid you goodnight. “It’s only for a weekend. Aunt Allison said something about bringing a bunch of photo albums this time. She said she has some pictures of me from the fifties. God, I’m dreading that. I looked like such a drape” she sighs. “You? A drape? You’re joking, right?” you ask, astounded. You couldn’t imagine your mother as a drape. Leaning back on to your pillows, you smile as she leaves. Looking back to the TV, you smirk at Lucy’s cheeks filled the chocolate bon-bons, looking like a chipmunk. As the movie ends, you eyes feel so heavy that you can barely keep them open. You drift off to sleep, wondering what it would have been like to live in the fifties like mom. All the fun that Lucy and Ethel had certainly seemed appealing but living without the Starbucks right up the road, at your beck-and-call, would be a stretch. You needed your cappuchino’s in the morning. Nothing was worth not having your coffee. Well, there’s always dreaming… right? * * * * * You awake with a thud, landing on your butt. The music around you is deafening and you open your eyes. Looking around, a sea of faces surrounds you and they are all dressed in the oddest clothes that you have ever seen. The skin tight Capri’s and spandex blouses. Mom would die you think. As the music comes to an abrupt halt, a voice replaces it. “Well, I’ve had the underwear thrown at me but ain’t never had the whole girl” a male voice muses. Your eyes flicker off of the faces and as you look up, your gaze is captured by a pair of coffee brown eyes. Staring into the dark brown orbs you are at a loss for words. The man standing above you is indeed handsome and dressed like Elvis in his black and white suit. His hair is slicked back, a subtly wave in the front. Lenora is standing in the back of the pavilion, fuming. Who is she? She thought. After two years of being away from the jamboree, she’d finally decided to come back and try for Cry Baby again but with girls literally falling out of the sky, she is not going to have a chance. She saw that look before in Cry Baby’s eyes, that same look he had when he had seen Allison for the first time. Lenora is overjoyed when the look disappears as quickly as it had appeared. Cry Baby stares down at you. You’re pretty, he’d give you that. Your blonde hair is pulled back and your ponytail is sticking out the hole in the back of your Marlins cap. What are Marlins? He wonders. The shirt you are wearing says the same thing the number ‘17’ on the front. Ramona had seen the girl appear. She took one look at the beer can she is holding, counted how many she’s had, and sets it down. She has obviously had enough if she is seeing people appear out of thin air. “Well,” Cry Baby said, shaking his thoughts away from the girl, “Let’s get the music goin’ again!” The music again, became rowdy, and you roll off the stage. Shaken a bit from the look in the mans eyes, you push your way through the crowd and run straight into a woman that reminds you of Elvira. “Hiya lady,” she says, her voice a bit screechy. “I’m Ramona Rickettes and you’d be?” “( ),” you answer. “Where the hell am I?” you demand, not rudely but with a bit of fear in your voice. “Well, yer here at the Jukebox Jamboree,” she says, her arms fanning out as if to show you the entire shelter. “Seems ya already met my grandson, Cry Baby.” You take another look around the shelter, stealing another look at Cry Baby as you inspect the stage. The huge Rebel flag that they are using as a back drop makes yours eyes widen. Your father would have a heart attack at the sight. The rest of the band that’s flanking the stage is staring back at you and you turn away. “What’d ya say we get ya some different clothes on and ya can enjoy the show?” Ramona says. You don’t want to enjoy any show. You want to know why you’re here! As if you are in a trance, you let Ramona lead you through the crowd and behind the stage. “Yer about Wanda’s size so most of her stuff should fit ya,” she tells you but you’re to busy trying to figure everything out. Ramona takes a second to look you over. You don’t look like any girl she’s ever seen, especially from around Baltimore. She sees the confusion in your eyes that you try to mask but are unable too. You come from money that was for sure, with your regal chin and perfect hair. The jeans you wore look to be made especially for you, the way the huge and cling to every dip and curve. The shirt is as odd to her as it was for Cry Baby to figure out. All and all, you remind her of Allison a bit. “What’s a Marlin?” she asks. “Yer last name Jacobs? That’s what it says on the back of yer shirt.” You stare at her oddly, as if she were speaking Swahili. “No, it’s Mike’s baseball jersey. I wore it to the game,” you tell her. Ramona raises an eyebrow and goes back to finding you some other clothes. “Ya look like a square in that getup,” she tells you. “It won’t do. ‘Specially not here. Lenora’s lucky her ass ain’t been booted out yet.” “Lenora?” you ask, rolling the name over in your head. No one came to mind that you knew but it sounded familiar. “What’d she do?” “She’s been after my grandson fer years now and he don’t want nothin’ ta do with that little drape-wannabe whore.” Blunt, you think. Ramona is very blunt. She doesn’t know you from Eve and is telling you exactly what she thinks. You swallow as you look at the outfit she’s pulling out for you to wear. The Capri’s look to be two sizes to small and the shirt, if you can call the slip of material that, is definitely to tiny. “Ms. Rickettes, I can’t wear that. I couldn’t fit one leg in those pants,” you breathe. “What’s this Ms. Rickettes crap? Ramona’ll do. And yeah, you can wear ’em.” You look uneasily at her. “Don’t you think they’re too small?” “That’s the way they’re supposed ta be!” she says laughing. “Go ahead and change. I’ll be outside if ya need me.” Alone in the room, you pull the jersey over your head and shed the Gucci jeans. With your back to the door, you balance yourself on the chair, and start to remove the sandals you have on. This is really the craziest dream. If you’re dreaming, why don’t you wake up? You ask yourself. That makes you wonder. Here you are, allowing this stranger to dress you in these awful clothes, and you’ve yet to wake up. Pinching your arm, you yelp at the pain, and see the red spot appear. “Okay ( ),” you tell yourself. “On the count of three you’re going to wake up in your bed. There will be no horrid music, no ugly clothes, and no handsome guy singing!” you tell yourself firmly. “One! Two! Three!” you say. Opening your eyes you look around and see that nothing has changed. “God damn it!” you mutter. That means when you wake up, you’ll wake up and that was the end of it. You turn back to the clothes, irritated. You make a vow never to eat one of stadium hotdogs again with cheese, chili, and sauerkraut. Nix the mustard and ketchup too. Cry Baby walked from the stage and headed for the changing room. The damned suit is hot and sweaty from being on stage under the spot light that Uncle Belvedere had just changed the light in. Lenora sees Cry Baby walking to the back and follows quickly. Here is her chance to get him alone. Cry Baby starts to push open the door when he feels a set of hands grab him around his waist and someone pressing themselves against his back. “You were wonderful!” Lenora tells him. Cry Baby just rolls his eyes and pries her hands off of him. “Thanks,” he replies dryly, and tries to duck around her but she won’t let him. “It don’t get any better than you singin’,” she says. “You gonna sing some more tonight?” Cry Baby shakes his head. “Nope. Got stuff I gotta do,” he tells her, wishing that the irritating bimbo would leave him alone. He pushes the door open and his eyes encounter you, standing in the center of the room, in your underwear. The lacy white caught his eyes against your tanned skin. The view of your back side in the boy-cut underwear made his eyes enlarge and they could have popped out of his head. “Ramona, I’m not sure if I should wear the bra or not. It’ll show through the shirt. What do you think?” “I think without the bra,” Cry Baby said with a mischievous grin and you scream. Turning around, you cover yourself the best you can before chucking a sandal towards the door. ”Get out!” you tell him. The shoe collides with the back of the door and a flush covers every inch of your body. “Don’t you know how to knock?” “It’s my room!” he yells back through the door, laughing slightly. Lenora is standing there, jaw ajar, and looks ready to cry. First she falls on stage at his feet and now she’s practically naked in his room! In a huff, Lenora walks away from the door, leaving Cry Baby laughing and another thud resounding from something else hitting the door. You shove your legs into the pants, not realizing that they are a bit too tight. The shirt is pulled over your head and over your bare torso. A pair of cute heals were the only other shoes inside the room and you put them on. Turning to the mirror, you can hardly believe what your dream has you wearing. Tight, tight khaki Capri’s, a second-skin black shirt and black heels. You look at the Marlins hat and jersey, knowing that you’d be wearing them when you woke up and open the door. Cry Baby has stopped laughing and it waiting patiently outside the door. Embarrassed, you can’t even meet his eyes and walk past him quickly. “I see ya took my advice,” he says at your back. Your steps falter slightly but you keep going. You find Ramona, the only person there who is being respectful, and you run up to her. “All dressed,” you say sarcastically. She turns around and smiles with those vibrantly red painted lips. “Now, ya look better,” she tells you. “You just stick close ta me honey and you’ll be just fine.” You roll your eyes but follow. Everything is not going to be ‘Just Fine’. Cry Baby shuts the door to the room after he is actually allowed back inside. Something about you makes him burn, deep down, and he can’t tell what it is. He promised himself after Allison he wasn’t going to let another girl get to him like that but how the hell is he supposed to keep that promise when girls are falling at his feet…and they look as good as you do. He sees the shirt you had been wearing and picks it up. ‘Jacobs’ is written boldly across the back. Now he knew one thing, your name is Jacobs. One question answered, a hundred to go. * * * * ~I know it’s a short update but an update nonetheless. Enjoy and always, please review!~ TBC... |