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The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.


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They Call Her Amphetamine
By Kate


(a/n: Songficishness. "Amphetamine" by Everclear. Go download/buy it. It's a great song. I'm
probably ruining it by writing this. But oh well. And I'm not Travis and this never happened.)

"C'mon, Travis, please?"

"No," I mutter through the phone.

"Pleeeeeease?" Tom's started whining again.

"No. If this party is like EVERY other one you and Mark have ever had, you two will end up going
into your room to do God knows what and leave me all alone with your fucked up friends."

"Traaaaavis," Tom whines. "That's never happened!" he protests, but I can tell he's suppressing a

"Yes it has," I say monotonously.

"Well, okay, maybe once or twice," Tom admits. "But it won't happen tonight. Pleeeeease come!"
Tom has started to make puppy-dog whimpering noises.

"You are pathetic, did you know that?"

I hear the click of another phone being picked up and Mark's voice joins Tom's whimpering.
"C'mon, Trav, we're worried about you. It's been two months since Mel left. You need to get over

"I AM over her," I mutter.

"Then stop being an antisocial bastard and get your ass over here," Mark orders.

I realize that going to their stupid party is the only way to get them off my back, so I
grudgingly agree. "Fine. But if you two disappear, I'm leaving. I hate your friends."

"YAY!" Tom exclaims.

"Rock," Mark says happily. "See you soon, then, Trav. You'll have fun, I promise."

"When have I ever had fun at one of your parties?"

"We invited chicks just for you," Tom puts in.

"Oh, wonderful," I say sarcastically.

"Stop being a bastard," Mark orders. "We'll see you soon, okay?"

"Whatever. Bye." I hang up the phone and throw it on the floor. I realize that I was being quite the
bastard to Mark and Tom. I admire them for putting up with me. It would be so much easier for them
to just stop caring about me and let me life my own hermit life, and yet they still persist. They
just want me to be happy, I know. They think I'm depressed about Melissa, my ex-girlfriend. That's
understandable. The truth is, well, I don't really know why I'm depressed. I just feel like there's
something missing in my life, and instead of going out to find it I would rather sit at home and
feel sorry for myself. I'm just a bitter old man- at the age of twenty-nine. (a/n: He's 29 right?
Well, he is now.)

I don't bother to prepare myself for this party. I know I'll just end up sitting by myself in a dark
corner while my only two friends get it on in the next room. I show up at their door in an old
T-shirt and dirty pants. I really don't care what people think of me.

"Travis! You came!" Tom throws his arms around me as I step into their living room, where a few
people have already arrived and are milling around.

"I told you I would, didn't I?" I push him away from me. "Get off me, you big fruit."

Tom grins. "That's me!"

I roll my eyes. "You're lucky I came at the last minute. I could have had other plans, you know."

Tom raises his eyebrows. "Trav, stop pretending that you have a life. If you weren't here, we all
know you would be sitting at home watching reruns of SNL."

A passing girl starts to giggle and I glare at Tom. "Fuck you."

"Aw, I'm just kidding." Tom smiles sweetly at me.

"Still, fuck you. Where's the beer?"

Tom directs me to the alcohol and I grab a drink. I sit on a couch at the back of the room and look
around at the scene. I've never been much of a party person. I hate groups of people. Even talking
to two people at once makes my head spin.

There are a lot of people wandering around Mark and Tom's house; talking, drinking, and dancing.
They all look familiar- it's the usual "Mark and Tom's party group." I see the hosts themselves,
talking animatedly with a few people. Tom has his arms around Mark's shoulders, and every once in a
while Mark will bend his head down slightly to kiss Tom's hands. Even though the thought of my two
best friends together like that still grosses me out, I think it's great that they've come to terms
with all their friends and have found a crowd of people they can have fun with without being
ridiculed about their sexuality.

"Is someone sitting here?" a small voice asks nervously.

I look up, startled that someone besides Mark or Tom has initiated a conversation with me, no matter
how trivial. "Uh, no," I say, watching the girl sit down. Her skin is extremely pale, and her long
blonde hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail. Her brilliant soft green eyes look back at me, and
she smiles a little.

"Are you gonna introduce yourself?" she asks after a minute of staring at each other.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," I say, still mesmerized by how beautiful she is. "I'm Travis."

"I'm Amy," she says, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

I nod slowly. "I haven't seen you at any of Mark and Tom's other parties before." That was a stupid
thing to say.

"Yeah, I came here with my friend. She met some guy though, and they disappeared."

I laugh. "That happens to me all the time."

Amy smiles. Her face has that perfect airbrushed look to it, and she could easily be on the cover of
a magazine. "Hmm," she says.

I realize for the millionth time in my life that I would not be able to keep of a conversation with
a beautiful girl if my life depended on it. I'm just a boring old fuck, and yet I'm determined to
keep talking to Amy.

"So, do you live around here?" Nice question, Travis. Now she thinks that all I want to do is get
her in bed and ditch her in the morning before she wakes up. "See, I was wondering because I live a
few blocks away and I haven't seen you around the neighborhood," I hastily explain. "I mean, not
that I look in my neighbors' windows, but uh... oh fuck."

Amy laughs a little. "Calm down," she tells me.

"Sorry," I say, putting my head in my hands.

"It's okay," Amy says with a grin. "You got me to laugh."

I look up at her and smile. "So that's good?"

Amy nods. "Yeah, I haven't really laughed in ages. My friend dragged me here to try to get me to
have fun."

"Yeah, Mark and Tom are my best friends and they always beg me to come to their parties." Great, now
she thinks I'm gay. "I mean, who else would entertain the chicks?" Okay, now I'm a sexist bastard.
This isn't going well.

Amy nods a little and smiles. "Well..." she shrugs and smiles at me again.

"Hey, do you want a drink?" I ask after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Oh, oh no," she says, shaking her head quickly.

"Uh, alright." I shrug and lean back against the couch.

Amy sighs. "See, I'm trying to get clean."

I snap to attention and look at her, amazed. She doesn't look like the type of girl who would do
anything out of line, and here is this perfect teenage anthem, telling me that she's trying to get

"Six months," she tells me proudly. "I've been clean and sober for six months."

"Wow, that's... that's cool." I'm not sure what to say to that.

"Surprising, isn't it?" Amy laughs. "Yeah, I used to be into a lot of shit. But everything will be
alright, now. I just have to take a few pills. Doctors orders." She smiles, but I detect a hint of
sadness in her voice.

"That's good," I say with a smile.

Amy sighs. "Wow, I don't know why I told you that."

"Oh... No, it's okay," I try to reassure her.

"You're probably freaked out," Amy says with melancholy.

"No, no, I think it's great that you're... cleaning yourself up." I smile at her and after a few
seconds she smiles back weakly.

"Okay," she whispers.

We sit in silence for a minute while I try to think of something to say. "Hey, it's getting kind of
smoky in here. Do you want to go outside?" I suggest.

Amy agrees and we stand up. I lead her towards the back porch, but stop at the door. There are two
naked bodies in the hot tub, obviously in need of some privacy.

"Let's go to the front yard," I say to Amy. She looks around my shoulder at the hot tub and then
nods. I lead her to the front door and thankfully the front porch is empty. I sit on the steps and
Amy sits next to me.

"What's so great about fucking in a hot tub?" she asks suddenly.

"Huh?" I look over at her.

"My ex-husband had this thing about sex in the hot tub. Let me tell you; it's not that great."

I laugh a little but stop myself. "Wait. Your ex-/husband/?"

Amy blushes a little. "Yeah. I was married for three year. It was hell."

"Oh... I'm sorry."

Amy shrugs. "Well, I was young and stupid. I did a lot of dumb things when I was young and stupid."

"Hey, Amphetamine!" a voice calls.

Amy's head shoots towards the sound and she boldly holds up her middle finger.

"Aw, Amphetamine, I'm just jokin' around!" A man appears out of the shadows and smirks at Amy.

Amy bites her lips together nervously and glances over at me. "Brett, shut the fuck up and get out
of here," she says quietly. I can tell she is willing herself to stay calm.

"What's that, Amphetamine?" he steps towards us.

I feel Amy's body stiffen next to mine, and without thinking I reach out and grab her hand.

"I said get the fuck out of here," Amy says, a little louder.

"Hey, Amphetamine, watch your language!" Brett laughs.

"Leave her alone!" I burst out. "And her name is Amy."

Brett smirks at me. "Maybe so, but at night in the old neighborhood we call her Amphetamine. Ain't
that right, Amphetamine?"

Amy looks down at her lap and refrains from answering.

"Stop pestering her, and get out of here!" I say boldly, with the knowledge that this guy could beat
me to a pulp.

Brett pays no attention to me and bends down in front of Amy. "Look at me, Amphetamine," he says. He
grabs Amy's chin and yanks it up so she is facing him. Her soft green eyes are filled with terror,
and tears are threatening to spill out over her cheeks. I feel a pang of sadness for my new friend.
She looks like she could have been happy; if only she had been born into a better life.

"Don't touch her," I say, but it sounds more like a plead than a threat.

"Stay out of this, you little runt." Brett pulls on Amy's chin until they are both standing up.
"Come on back, Amphetamine," he says to her. "We miss your pretty face."

Amy winces and looks over at me pleadingly.

"Don't fucking touch her!" I say again, standing up and advancing towards the two.

"Hey, the little runt wants to fight," Brett says, knowing that calling me a runt will make me even
more angry at him.

I run towards him and kick him in the knee. I catch him off guard and he stumbles backwards. He
regains his balance and throws a punch at my face, but I duck out of the way and he swipes the air.
I back off a little, knowing that I'm really not strong or clever enough to beat this guy up. He
holds one fist at the ready and grabs Amy's shoulder with his other hand.

"Come on, Amphetamine, let's go," he says.

"No!" Amy attempts to twist away from him. "Let me go!"

"Get your hands off of her!" I turn around and see Mark and Tom on the porch. Tom's eyes are fuming
with anger as he walks down the steps. Mark is right behind him, and when they stand facing Brett,
Amy, and me, I realize that they are holding hands. Brett notices this too.

"What's a faggot like you gonna do about it?" he smirks.

"Fucking get off my property, or I will do something you'll regret," Tom threatens. "An leave the

"Amy," I say quietly.

"Yeah. Let Amy stay here." Tom drops Mark's hand and advances towards Brett.

"The fudgepacker's trying to act tough," Brett laughs, but I can see a glimmer of fear in his eyes.
Tom can be a scary guy.

Without warning, Tom throws the first punch. I can't quite follow what is happening, but I can see
that Tom is clearly beating the shit out of Brett.

Amy scrambles away from the fight and holds my hand tightly as we watch Tom and Brett. When Tom is
satisfied with the amount of pain he has inflicted on Brett, he kicks his writhing body onto the

"And you better stay the fuck away," Tom spits as Brett stumbles into a standing position and limps
off. When he's out of sight, Tom turns to Amy and I. "Are you okay?" he asks her.

Amy nods, obviously stunned that Tom emerged from the sight relatively unharmed. "Th-thank you," she
says quietly.

Tom smiles warmly. "Hey, no problem." He glances down at our hands, which are still gripped together
tightly. "Have fun you two," he says, winking obviously at me.

I immediately drop Amy's hand. "Tooooom," I say, exasperated.

Tom grins and turns around to face Mark, who has walked up behind him.

"Are you okay?" Mark asks softly. Tom nods and Mark reaches out to wipe a small amount of blood from
Tom's temple. They talk quietly for a minute and then start kissing each other.

I grimace and turn away. I look at Amy and she looks surprised.

"Hey, let's give them some privacy," I say with a small laugh.

Amy nods and we set off slowly down the sidewalk, staying in the light of the streetlamps.

"Amy, can I ask you something?" I say after a minute of silence.

"Sure. But I might not answer."

"Alright." I decide that asking can't hurt. "Who was that guy?"

Amy takes in a breath. "That's something I'd rather not talk about."

"Oh. Okay." I glance over at her to see her quickly wipe away a tear. She notices me watching and
she smiles a little.

"Everything will be alright," she says. "Don't worry."

I just smile back at her and we continue walking in silence.

"Travis?" she asks after a minute.


Amy clears her throat. "Will you hold my hand?"

I smile and take her small white hand in my own. "Yeah."

"Thank you."

"No problem." I give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"No... Thanks for everything."

I just smile again. "I didn't really do anything, but you're welcome anyways."

Amy leans against me and we walk together in silence- but this time it's a comfortable silence.

After a while, Amy speaks up again. "Travis? Where are we going?"

"Well, I thought we'd go to my house," I say. I look over at her. "Is that okay?"

Amy looks at me and smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

I wake up around three in the morning to the sound of sirens in the distance. Amy is sitting beside
the window, wearing nothing but one of my old T-shirts. She is staring out the window and doesn't
look up when I get out of bed and wrap my arms around her. I look out the window also, but I can't
see anything. I can hear the faint sirens coming from somewhere a few blocks away.

"Everything will be alright," Amy says.

I hug her tightly and she looks up at me. We lock eyes and she smiles.

"Everything will be alright," she says again.

"Yeah," I whisper. "Everything will be alright."


The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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