Clash Of The Titans - Part 1

OOC Date: July 9 - 15
IC Date: July 13

The North Beach Resort - Marina


Let it never be said that Teague Edwards is a vengeful boy. Over a week has gone by since the last day of school. Over a week has gone by since Teague has so much as shown his face to the town after Ashley had taken a stapler to his head during detention. Not a word has been uttered from the boy in regards to the attack. Not a single threat or response has been earned. It only stood to reason, of course, that the boy was merely recuperating in his home, safe from weapon welding, Prada wearing divas. That might be true, but regardless his stretch of social banishment has come to an end.

Even now as the sun sets high in the summer sky, Teague is drawn to take a slow, steady breath of the salt sea breeze. The scent of nature dances on the air around him, the soft lull of the waves against the boats singing over the sounds of voices in the background. Teague takes another deep breath, and then another.

Boats were not his thing.

Stepping almost too cautiously onto the dock, Teague barely sends the boat behind him half a glance. If nothing more, the planks underfoot helped to dial back the degree of motion sickness that was eating away at the base of the boys’ stomach. He took a fourth deep breath as he tried to rebuild his confidence, his eyes settling on the long walk down the pier toward solid ground.

WHAT had made him agree to this?

WHAT could have possibly been so important he couldn’t lure the people aboard the vessel to dry, solid land? Dry solid land that didn’t rock!

In the back of his head, his sister’s face reminded him. Damn Sophie and her desire to experience new things! Damn her and her puppy eyes. Damn them to hell!

Glaring at the memory, as well as the sounds of her goodbyes as the boat once again took to sea; he began the slow path towards the country club, his cast (blue in color and located on the right) dropping thoughtlessly to his side as he moved. For the moment he had a goal, and it was to ignore any and all obstacles between him and that precious stretch of pampered and pruned greenery.

Good luck with that.

Did he really think he could avoid her forever? Did he think that he wouldn't encounter Ashley Kerrington at all for the rest of the Summer? If he did, the perhaps he shouldn't have come to the country club. These are some of the greater stomping ground of all of the Kerrington siblings. Maybe he's a glutton for punishment or something. He was bound to run into her at one point or another. Now would be that time, as Ashley steps away from the more social parts of the country club, down to the pier where she can be alone. She has recently pulled away from quite a few people. Her brothers being the main ones in that situation, but there are other individuals who have been lacking in the Ashley department as of late. Why? Only she knows. There are internal thoughts and feelings that she isn't privy to share, or rather she shares minimal information on the subject. Just enough to satisfy the inquirer.

Lost in her own little thoughts, Ashley doesn't notice the presence of the boy standing near the end of the pier until it could be quite too late for her to make a hasty retreat. There is a break in the train of deep thought that registers across her face, and in that instant, she looks up and sees Teague standing there. Ashley isn't the type to show much true emotion, though a bit of shock registers across her eyes, and a light little gasp. Why did it have to be him? Why is HE here? For crying out loud, is nowhere safe?! Maybe if she turns around and walks away calmly, he won't notice.. Yeah.. she'll do that…

Of course it was too good to be true. There was no way he could have possibly made it from point A to point B without facing down some level of demon. Today, the demon happens to be a teenage girl with anger management issues.

The moment when Teague spots Ashley is clearly written on his face. Amongst the exhaustion, frustration, and feelings of impending nausea that he already feels, spotting the wealthy cheerleader as she steps into his path actually manages to bring that fowl taste to the back of his mouth. I also brings a familiar ache to the back of his head and a small sting to his pride.

This is just awesome.

Despite the fact he clearly saw her, as well as the fact she clearly saw him, Teague lowers his head and eyes and continues to work his way carefully along the pier toward dry land. It can easily be said that the fear of motion is enough to override any instincts Teague might have to act cool. He has no control over the moment. He’s far to preoccupied to care.

As he nears her, he can only mutter a low, “excuse me,” as he tries to pass her without knocking himself into the water. There are two very good reasons for this. 1) Teague is the only California resident alive that cannot swim. And 2) The idea of spending another second on the pier makes it that much more likely that he’s about lose his #4 value meal at Ashley’s expensive little feet.

Anger management issues. To be fair, he was the only person that Ashley had gotten mad at.. On more than one occasion. He has given her a reason to get mad at him. On BOTH occasions. And if you were to ask her if he warranted what happened on both of those occasions, she would most assuredly say yes. Sure, maybe she could be a bit harsh sometimes, she is starting to realize that fact but still, it wasn't ALL her fault. He infuriated her. Which seems to be mutual. Yet they can't seem to keep from encountering each other. And why is this? She hasn't figured that out yet. You know.. she could end it here. There's… hardly anyone around? He's coming this way.. She could just push him in the water and watch him flail around and drown, and volla! No more Teague! He'd go down quick too, because he totally couldn't swim with that broken arm.

Hey, why was his arm broken? She didn't do it. She hit him in the back of the head, she didn't go anywhere near his arm at all. But she just bets that he is telling people that she DID do it. Or he's probably blaming her for it. That's just the kind of person Teague is, he's dragging this whole thing out because it's some sick kinda game for him. And that's what ticks her off about him the most! No.. Actually that isn't true. The very thing that angers her about Teague, she can't quite bring into understanding. She is frustrated by the frustration OF Teague.. And Ashley doesn't like to be frustrated. She likes to be in control of the situation, and when she is frustrated, she isn't! God! Stupid Teague!

The urge to kick him into the drink is strong when he gets closer. Because it is far too late to just play it cool like his isn't even there now. She'll have to encounter him. What Dean had said to her rings through her head, 'Being a Kerrington is trying. You have to rise above everyone else'. Yeah.. She guesses that's how it is. It's what is expected of her. Even if she feels a little rotten sometimes.

"I'm sorry.." she says as he gets near. '!!!' Where did that come from?! Why did she just say that? Great, juuuuust great. Not only did she initiate a conversation, but she just apologized for him making her mad and having to make her hit him in the head?

Still, she avoids major eye contact, keeping her eyes focused on a boat ahead of her, to keep the expression on her face from being seen. She doesn't have as difficult of a time standing on the pier as he does.

If there was anything Teague was not expecting, it was to be hit with an apology. In fact, the very sound of Ashley’s voice as Teague preparing for verbal battery. His jaw tightens, his body tenses, and a pain shoots through the back of his head, all in an instant. An instant, that is, before her words reach his brain and…he stares.

“You’re…sorry?” Not at all what he’d expected to hear. ‘I hate you go play in the freeway’, sure. ‘Go burn in hell you arrogant prick’, absolutely. Nowhere in all his mental musings of Ashley Kerrington had Teague ever expected to find those words, and now faced with them he was drawing a blank on how to respond. “Uhm…yeah.”

YEAH?! His response causes a twitch in even his features as he hears it. “I’s okay. What’s a few stitches between classmates?” With a thankful mental sigh he tries to offer the girl a smile, though it comes off as more of an accepting nod than anything more.

Hoping his words are enough, Teague slips by the girl as he takes the final few steps toward dry land. If anyone, it may appear he’s brushing her off though the simple fact is that in the back of his mind he’s sure that Ashley would rather be brushed off than covered in his lunch. “It’s over…”

Ashley sighs with his response. But it is the type of sigh that comes where there is more to say. The thing is, just how is she going to say it to him, considering that their relationship has been less than friendly up to date. She can't exactly just LEAVE it like that. Saying she is sorry and then letting him walk away. He'll probably pull one of those smug little smiles of his in the satisfaction that he got her to say she is sorry. That's probably what he's been waiting for, to make her look like the badguy. Well she isn't done!

"Wait.. Teague." the girl reaches out when he passes, to snag his free good arm, rather than the broken one. "It's not.. 'over'. I mean, that is the second time I acted out on intense emotions. But to be totally fair, you were majorly pushing my buttons. You've been a bit of a button pusher for a while now. What did you think was gonna happen eventually? I mean.. You can only get someone so bad before they act out on it."

Her eyes narrow and she looks at his arm, "What happened to your arm anyway? I did NOT do that.. I hope you're not going around saying that I did it. If you fell and broke your arm or something, it wasn't because of the little blow to the back of the head. Which.. by the way.. how come you didn't go ratting me out or anything? I thought you'd be thrilled to have a chance to get leverage over me."

Feeling her catch his arm, Teague frowns deeply. This was not what he wanted at this exact moment. Not now. Not…5 feet from the [CENSORED] land. His feet longed to push forward. To have him jerk himself free of her hands and hurl himself onto the safety of dry, solid ground.

Unfortunately that was just a hair on the dramatic side, and Teague was not a fan for the theatric. Even more importantly, he was slightly annoyed, and he wasn’t sure that they didn’t need to talk. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about it either.

“People will treat you as they are treated, Ashley.” He begins a few seconds later, keeping his eyes fixed just shy of her gaze. Teague wasn’t one to make eye-contact. Perhaps it was a heavy conscious deserving of his reputation. Maybe it was a dire need to remain disconnected from the rest of his peers. Either way, his blue gaze hovers somewhere between the pier floor and the shore. “Just because you don’t like it, it doesn’t make it okay to act like that. I didn’t *do* anything except refuse to listen to you talk down to me, which I might add, you have a habit of doing.” She did. Almost everything she had said to Teague in the detention room had been snobby and almost mocking. A slid desire to show the world she was better than him, when in reality, the only thing that separated them the political ladder of public school tyranny. “But regardless none of us threw a stapler at your head.”

His body tenses at that, and while for the moment it appears as though he is keeping his temper in check, something in his face exposes a faint hint of acceptance to the abuse he’d suffered at the hand of the cheerleader. He was almost indifferent to the violence. It was expected, in a way. “Getting you in trouble wasn’t going to fix anything. They’d have called your parents. Your dad would have said something to my mom…and things would have just been more…” fucked up is clearly the term he’s looking for, but he allows it to drift away without completion.

When Ashley asks about his arm, his expression shifts again. Alarm, and then annoyance. At least she gets a response. He turns his gaze back toward her again, once more falling short of eye-contact. “WHY would I tell anyone a girl broke my arm?” Really? Did she not know his rep. “It’d take more than a 90 pound cheerleader to break my arm, Ash.” He manages once more to reign in the temper riding on the edge of his voice, choking it back to allow instead a sigh. “Just drop it okay? It’s not a big deal. I probably had it coming. No one thinks you did it.”

"You haven't exactly been Mr. Congeniality yourself, Teague.." Ashley tosses him a look. Her arms come to cross in front of her, and her brows knit down into a frown. "I dunno if you realize it, but you can be a bit of a jerk sometimes. I'm just saying." The girl shrugs and she walks a little, getting up off of the pier which is more of an idle move for her than a desperate attempt to escape the water. She isn't as afraid of it as he is. After all, she was on the swim team.

What else could she say really? He's got it in his head that she is some wicked witch or some such, and maybe he's right. But what could she really do about it. She's a senior now, and her social standing has been mostly set in stone. There wasn't really any way for her to change it now. Even if she really wanted to.

Her eyes turn to look up toward the main portion of the country club, before she turns to face him again. "What do you mean you had it coming? And why are you so defensive about it? Maybe I was concerned, and I was just wondering how it happened? I mean—" she rolls her eyes back and forth in her head and sighs, "Fine. Whatever.." If he doesn't want to tell her, then fine. Why she even considered being nice in the first place is starting to be beyond her thought. Maybe she SHOULD push him in the water after all.

Teague can only stare for a moment. “Let me refresh your memory, Kitten.” He stresses the term rather firmly, as though he were desperately grasping at the straws of calm temperament. “You walked into a room, with tons of other people in it, and without one /second/ of insult from me began to criticize and instigate. The time before that, you called me trash.” In more words of course, “Before I had said a single word about you.” He kicked a beer onto her, sure, by complete accident, “So unless you’re hearing voices, sister, I haven’t done shit to you in weeks.” In fact, it’s been quite the opposite.

Setting his jaw, his eyes lower quickly as he thinks. “How’d that go? Oh, yeah. ‘So what'd you do this time, Edwards? Why’d you decide to show up? Trying to turn around that life of yours and actually attempt to be a well behaved human being?’" It’s not verbatim, but it’s scary close, and judging by the way he recites it it’s been bothering him for some time now. “You don’t hear me walking in and asking you how it feels to be the California equivalent to Medusa!” Ok…so, Teague is a /little/ stressed and just a little sensitive today.
He really hates water.

“Like I said, forget it.” Regardless of social station, it seems for the moment he’s had it…or has he? Three steps away are halted before he spins to face her again, “And I have you know you throw like a girl! It hardly even hurt!” Lie.

“And you have no idea what lengths I go to for people I care about. I do things you’re people wouldn’t dream of doing! Just because something isn’t like you doesn’t mean it doesn’t have value.” Or….something. “And you know that. You’re just pissed because you like me and you don’t have a clue how to go about it.” So there.

Stepping back, he takes a moment to draw in a deep breath before, seconds later, he sighs. Almost as if someone had snuffed out a flame, his temper died down and for a moment, he looks almost sheepish. Cowardly, and yes, slightly paranoid. Already their conversation has drawn the occasional passersby looks. He can only imagine how weird they look, bickering like toddlers at the mouth of the pier. “And don’t you dare push me. I can’t swim.” Doesn’t take a genius to know what she’s likely to do.

The word can be seen on her lips way before she even says it. The extended, puckered lips forming a 'w', the deep set knit of her brows that accompanies the letter. And then it explodes from her lips.

"WWWHAT?!" if that didn't get anyone's attention, then nothing will. After delivering the word, her jaw hangs there, dropped and appalled at his accusation. Did he just go of on her? Did he just.. accuse her of.. hitting like a girl? She has two brothers. Tall strong ones. She does /not/ hit like a girl! And what's this about liking him! Is he /kidding/!? "How. /Dare/ you!" her eyes come down to a venomous narrow, "Teague Edwards! I have never, in my LIFE met someone so arrogant, self-assured and insufferable as YOU! You think it's SO easy being me, well let me tell you something it ISN'T! But I guess you wouldn't understand that. Nooooo not the great Teague Edwards." Yeah, she does want to hit him. Better yet.

One step forward.

He's getting sheepish now, huh? After saying all that? Alright.. If that's how he wants it.

Second step forward.

"Afraid of the water, huh? If I hit like a girl, maybe you should see how I shove.." she is close enough to do it, and the way she is encroaching upon him, it seems like she just might in fact act out on the intense emotions that are welling up with her right now. Up come her hands, and she starts waving them around, trying to be eerie. Where is she gonna go? What is she gonna do? When is she gonna strike? It's the 'I'm-not-touching-you' dance.

Whatever was cycling through his mind dissolves as the girl begins her rather obnoxious … noise. He cringes at the yell, not because it’s scary but rather because it’s almost earsplitting. “Sweet baby Jesus you’re obnoxious!” It’s more of a mutter than a statement. Something uttered to himself yet aloud and thanks to her close proximity, rather audible to her as well.

“But,” he begins a few seconds later, lifting his voice back toward her as she makes her idle motions toward shoving him, “I didn’t hear you deny it.” His solution to her threat is to reach and twist his fingers into the hem of her shirt. He’s not going in without a life vest. Maybe evil floats.

“Give it up. You dig me, and you hate it.” His teeth clinch for a moment before he is forced, if only by the situation, to grin, “And I never said your life was easy. I just said you don’t have room to treat people like they don’t matter. That’s bullshit.” Like it or not, he’s determined that he does in fact matter to the angry cheerleader. “So stop putting words in my mouth while I’m trying to accept your apology.”

For a moment longer, Teague falls silent, his grip on her shirt not relenting as he watches her through narrowed blue eyes. She took her steps closer, and though he is a few moments behind on the game, he moves to take a step closer as well, tightening the space between them with an almost palpable sense of tension. “I’m assuming you expect me to apologize too?”

That's it. That'sitthat'sitthat'sit! He's going in the waWhat the hell does he thing he is He's TOUCHING her! Not only is he touching her, but he's holding onto her with his one good hand! He's wrinkling her precious top. Who the heck does he think he is!? She has half a mind to scream for Dean to come down and break Teague's other arm! He is TOUCHING her! She can't get over the fact that he had the nerve to put.. his hand on her! In front of people.

Her eyes widen and she looks over to the people staring. If she were to continue to rant and rave now, it would only draw more attention. She pulls a strong puff of air in through her nose. "I don't know.. where you get off thinking for one single instant that I could even.." it is a hushed tone, forced and low from her lips, but still she is firm about it. She is outraged, utterly outraged that he would even remotely consider— He is TOUCHING her!!

"Teague.. I am giving you to the count of 3. And so help me, if you don't take your hand off of me.. I won't hesitate another second to throw you in the water. I am /not/ kidding!" Her teeth are clinched and she tenses up where she stands, trying not to go in as best as she possibly can. Why is he getting so close?! Get AWAY! God! Alright.. Fine…

"One… Two…"

Meh. No talking. As if to silence the countdown the boy moves to press a finger against her lips. An annoying and no doubt outright infuriating action. “Here’s how it’s gonna go, kitten.” The last term again, is almost hissed, though is done so with a slightly cocky and albeit affectionate tone. “I’m gonna go, and you’re gonna go back to your .. whatever it is you people do here.” He has no bloody idea WHAT someone can do at this place for hours. He couldn’t wait to leave. “But you’re gonna come see me at Charlie’s party, and we’re going to have a calm, clear-headed, and non-violent discussion about how you and I are going to deal with..stuff.” Whatever that means. “You don’t show up, I’m going back to Eli.” Eli, who will likely slit his throat with a spoon when she hears about this little meeting. “I’ll make sure no one sees.” And Teague is the crowned prince of distraction! Just look. He’s still not bleeding.

Taking a step away from the girl (and in the opposing direction of the water) he tries to steer himself out of harms way before sending a glance toward the gates where, If she looks, his mother can be seen waiting with a rather impatient pace carrying her back and forth in front of his car. The sight makes his expression shift rapidly for the moment. “And /hopefully/ I won’t have a black eye to go with my blue cast. I think I’m in trouble…again.” Why exactly, he seems to know already, but whatever it is he doesn’t share it. “10:30. Danner’s garage.”

The countdown is forgotten. She doesn't recall what number she was on when his finger comes to silence her lips. It is as if time stood still, and the world suddenly snapped in black and white. Like some sort of sliver in space that was sawed out and flattened against the wall for her to look at. Un. believable. She has no words. She absolutely has no words for what just happened here. There is an internal click. click. click as she tries to reignite the pilot light to the fire in her stomach that Teague had just managed to put out.

People can say what they want about her, they can bad mouth her at the expense of earning her wrath and they can outright avoid her. But he just told her what was going to happen. That is almost as bad as telling her what to do. But she can't. Seem. To spit fire or venom in his general direction at the moment. Her body wants to, but her brain won't let her do it. All it will do is let her stand there and turn bright red in the cheeks. This is a historical embarrassment for her. And before she snaps back into reality, he manages to slip out of the danger zone. He's getting away. He— got away!

She is then able to bring her hands up to cover her mouth! Oh dear god!…

All other thoughts are stirred in her head right now, and Teague is able to get going toward his impatient looking mother, "Um.. Yeah. 10:30.." she frowns.

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