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"I'm hungry. Can we stop to eat?" Margot broke the long-standing silence in the car. They'd been on the road for a good ten hours, not stopping except to fill up with gas or use the bathroom. Margot had opted to hold it, as opposed to using the truck stop bathroom of questionable cleanliness.

"Can't even go for a few minutes without eating, fatty?" Brendon said bitterly, continuing to drive along the darkening road.

"Shut up, Brendon. It hasn't been a few minutes, it's been at least ten hours since you picked me up, and I didn't really eat breakfast this morning. And anyway, I'm not fat," she added as an afterthought.

"You're not fat compared to an obese woman, no, but you're certainly no pixie compared to any of the girlfriends I've ever had." Brendon tried not to smirk, reminded of the old high school days.

"And yet, you're still bitter about losing me," Margot shot back, rolling her eyes.

"I assure you, my fine, fat fiend, I am not bitter at all about the fact that I lost you. It's the fact that I lost to that jackass, Spencer Smith. So don't flatter yourself." Brendon attempted to reach over and grab a hold of Margot's tummy, but she batted his hand away, anticipating such a move from him.

"Whatever. Let's not open that old can of worms again. Can we just stop to eat?" Margot implored. Her stomach growled unpleasantly, and Margot was beginning to feel testy.

"Fine. What do you want?" Brendon was now, it seemed, making an effort to be nicer. He really did wish he could stifle his catty remarks to his travel-companion. A large part of him felt bad because of the awful relationship that Margot seemed to be hopelessly stuck in. The other was bitter that she had chosen the winner, and it hadn't been him.

"I don't know. How about...I don't know. Let's just keep an eye out for something and stop when we see it." Margot began eyeing the roadside, looking for a suitable restaurant.

"Sounds good...Hey, Margot?" Brendon bit his lip. He knew that if he was nice to her, she'd be a bit nicer in return, and he, in turn, would be less of an asshole. Brendon was stuck between holding a grudge against Margot, pitying her, and still having some feelings for her, stirred up by the deja-vu situation. Another road-trip, just the two of them, and neither one had been too excited to embark...

"Yes?" Margot was coerced into being nicer just by the tone in Brendon's voice; less harsh, not so defensive.

"I, uh...I wanted to apologize. You know...for everything that happened between us...back then, y'know..." Brendon wasn't used to apologizing.

Margot was quite taken aback, seeing as he, not ten minutes ago, had been calling her fat. But that was Brendon, Margot reasoned to herself. Hot one moment, cold the next. It took some re-getting used to. "Well," she said, rifling through her brain for something to say. "It's...it's alright, Brendon. That happened long time ago, and we were both kids. I think we both need to get past it," she added pointedly.

"Yeah...And I'm sorry it turned out shitty for the both of us," Brendon continued.

"Yeah...Wait, what?" Margot turned to look at Brendon. "What do you mean by that? I don't know about you, but I'm perfectly happy with the way my life has turned out." She crossed her arms defiantly, reminding Brendon, very strongly, of a sixteen-year-old Margot. It was cute, he thought to himself, and then mentally smacked himself for thinking that.

"All I meant was, y'know, I'm living alone, without much hope for a girlfriend, and you're living with an abusive boyfriend who doesn't appreciate you. It's, like, from one extreme to the other." Brendon didn't see what she was getting her panties in such a twist about. He had only pointed out the obvious.

"He is not abusive! He loves--" Margot's cheeks were turning quite pink, almost crimson.

"Let me guess," Brendon interrupted. "He hurts you in some way, verbally or physically, and, after it's over, he apologizes and tells you that he loves you, and he's just trying to get you to see what's best for yourself, because he knows what's best for you." Margot's jaw went slightly slack as she stared at Brendon. He had named everything practically to a T. Except, of course, he hadn't guessed that-- "Oh, and bonus points if he takes you out to dinner, or a movie, or cuddles with you to make up for it, right?" Brendon added just as the thought popped into Margot's head. Her jaw fell a little more, and her eyes widened.

"That's not--you don't..." Margot couldn't seem to form a complete thought, even in her own mind. "You know, you've got some nerve, acting like you know anything about my relationship. Spencer does love me, and I don't need your approval to know that, Brendon." This conversation was not going as well as he'd hoped...apologies were quite difficult, Brendon was finding out. He looked back at the road, biting his lip.

"Hey," he said suddenly. "Look at that: a Friday's. Let's eat.“

The restaurant was dark and noisy, but there was the smell of hot food cooking in the air, which was all Margot cared about. It was pretty crowded, considering that it was about nine at night. Whatever, as long as they had a table for two open, Margot didn't mind the noise or the crowd.

"Two?" A girl wearing a red uniform shirt and her hair in a ponytail grabbed a couple of menus and motioned the pair to follow her to the rear of the restaurant. They were seated in a booth meant for four. "Your server will be with you in a few minutes," the hostess said, before disappearing through the crowd of tables and customers.

"So..." Brendon attempted conversation. "This is...fun." Real smooth, Brendon, he thought to himself.

"Yeah," Margot murmured from behind her menu, already immersed in her meal options. Brendon sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than he'd thought...

"Hey, I'm Josh, I'll be your waiter tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?" A kid, probably a few years younger than Margot and Brendon, was at their table with a pad and paper. He had quite a few piercings and a ponytail longer than the hostess'.

"Yeah," Brendon said. "I'm gonna have a rum and coke. Lots of ice, please."

"Can I just have a glass of milk, please?" Margot implored of the waiter in a sweet voice. He looked at her with a half-smile.

"You sure? Just milk?" He seemed almost hesitant to write it on the pad.

"Yes, please. I'll be sure to let you know if I change my mind," she added with a slight chuckle.

"Alright," Josh said, laughing as well. He walked off to get their drinks.

"Milk?" Brendon looked at Margot skeptically.

"I like milk," she said, and it was left at that.

"Do you guys know what you're gonna have?" Josh returned with the drinks, setting them down on the table on top of paper napkins.

"Well," Brendon closed his menu and looked at Margot. "I'm not really hungry, so I'm just gonna have the Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburger, fries on the side, and an extra side of onion rings. Oh, and can I also have the green bean fries appetizer, but it comes with the meal?" Josh nodded, trying to scribble it all down as quickly as possible. "Okay, that's it."

"Not hungry, huh?" Josh mumbled, still concentrating on getting the order written down.

"Well," Margot looked up at Josh, also closing her menu and handing it to him. "I'm just going to have the Santa Fe chopped salad, no chicken or bacon, and no onions. Oh, and dressing on the side."

"So, that's a Cheesy Bacon Cheese Burger with fries, onion rings, and green bean fries for the guy that's not hungry, and a salad with no meat or onions for the girl that is."

"Yes," Margot and Brendon said in unison. The waiter nodded and walked off, ripping the paper, upon which their orders were written, off the pad.

"Not hungry?" Margot turned to Brendon with an eyebrow cocked. "I don't think I could eat all that if I was starving."

"Hey, I am a growing boy that needs his sustenance!" Brendon joked, sitting back and patting his stomach.

"You're twenty-five!" Margot responded, and they both laughed for a minute. "You know, our mothers are probably gonna try to feed us both to bursting when we get home," Margot said to her companion.

"Oh, I can't wait!" Brendon said, and they both laughed, again. Then, they remembered why it was that they were going back, and sobered up.

"I really am sorry, Brendon," Margot said quietly, reaching over and covering his hand with her own.

"Yeah, well...everyone dies, I guess," Brendon was no longer looking at her, instead staring down at the tabletop.

"Yeah, but...I'm sorry you had to lose your dad." Margot wished she could more accurately convey her feelings to Brendon.

"It's fine," he said, looking up again, suddenly, sniffling slightly. His breathing was a bit irregular, and, though Margot couldn't really see well in the dim lights, she was sure that his cheeks were flushed with the effort of not crying. She decided to drop it, not wanting to pursue the touchy subject. Margot reasoned that she probably wouldn't want to talk about it, either, the same day she found out that her father had died. He'd probably be more able to discuss it another day.

"Well..." Margot searched for something to say that wouldn't put off Brendon, and wouldn't bring up the subject of his father's death. "So...what do you do for a living?" Brendon seemed to snap out of some sort of reverie when Margot spoke.

"Uh...well, you know I went to O-State to study music, so right now I'm working in a guitar shop, and I give lessons on the side. It pays pretty well, y'know. Kids like guitars."

"Oh, wow," Margot said, leaning forward. "I didn't even know you played guitar."

"Oh, yeah," Brendon said off-handedly. "I've been playing for a while. Now, I'm actually giving seven kids guitar lessons, three kids piano lessons, and one kid is even asking me for singing lessons."

"Oh, wow!" Margot leaned even further forward, eyes wide. "You do all that?"

"Yeah, I can also play a few other instruments. Not great, but I figure I could make some extra money by giving lessons to beginners, and stuff." Brendon seemed to be so animated, excited, even, when talking about music. Margot was shocked; she'd never seen this side of him.

"That's great, Brendon!" Margot said emphatically. "I didn't even know you studied music in school. I had no idea that you were so musically inclined." She smiled, enjoying having a friendly conversation, instead of one filled with catty remarks and snide comments.

"Yeah, thanks. What do you do?" Brendon took a sip of his own drink, leaning forward so that his and Margot's faces were no more than a few inches apart.

"Well, my major in school was Journalism, with a minor in English. I'm a free-lance journalist, now." Margot nodded, not realizing how close they were.

"I can see that. You were always a stickler for grammar, Margot. Have you gotten anything published, yet?" Margot was pleased to notice that Brendon seemed to be paying attention, actually caring about what she had to say.

"I actually got a few stories in the Cincinnati Times. And, this one time, I drew this stupid, little political cartoon, and it ended up getting published in the Chicago Tribune!" She grinned and blushed, looking down.

"Wow, that's great, Margot. It's amazing, really. You're really young, and yet you've done this much already. You want to be a full-time journalist, I'm guessing?" Margot was pleasantly surprised at Brendon's genuine interest.

"Well...yeah, I mean, eventually...Yeah, I'll want to be a full-time journalist with a permanent position, but...you know, nobody's hiring right now, and Spencer figures that he makes enough money to support the both of us, and there are things at home that need to be done, and...well, it's just easier if I don't have a steady job right now." Margot sat back, suddenly deeply interested in the bubbles she was blowing into her glass of milk. Brendon stared at her for a moment before speaking.

"Margot...Are you and Spencer planning on getting married?" She nearly choked on her straw.

"Brendon...didn't anyone tell you? Spencer and I are engaged."



Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry! I'm soooooo majorly sorry it took so long to update. You would not believe the amount of schoolwork I've had every night. Annotations, essays, dialectical journals, reading, note-taking, studying, not to mention rehearsal, dance class, and just a TON of other shit going on. It all chalks up to me not being able to write for a few days, and for that, I'm sorry. I know this chapter seems kind of like a filler, but I feel like I'm not pushing enough the impact of Spencer's hold on Margot. I'm just trying to portray it like I have in my head, and I feel like I'm not doing that. Oh well. Please go comment and subscribe, and I promise I'll get the next update up sooner. Love you guys long time. OverAndOutxx