Author's Note: 'Ello lovelies! Happy Monday! Well, not really because I go back to school in like, a week. :/ Oh, Summer '13-- gone to soon. Anyways, enough of my petty problems and I have a surprise! This chapter is in Bradley's Point of View! I meant to do one in Serendipity, but then I didn't, so I did it here. I hope you guys like it! Don't forget to comment and vote and fan and all that good stuff, please! Also, I've semi-started a new story called 90 Days! The first chapter is already up but I won't start reguarlarly updating until September sometime! So, that's be really cool if you guys checked it out and let me know what you think. I'll put the link it in the external link and I'll put in a comment below. I'm currently doing the 90 Days Character Profiles on my Tumblr (the-magics-not-here-no-more.tumblr.com) in case you wanna see those. Also, notice the song and the picture-- the bannew was made my Soph_K27 which is why this chapter is dedicated to her, so, yeah. <3 

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Chapter 10: Just Come On In, Buddy [BRADLEY'S POINT OF VIEW]

“Syd?” Drew said from where he was walking behind Syd and me.

“Yeah?” She replied, looking back at him over her shoulder.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” He asked, his voice pleading.

“We only have ten minutes until we have to board…” Sydney reasoned.

“I’ll be quickly,” He quickly replied. Obviously it’s something important.

“Yeah, okay.” Sydney sighed. “Hey Bradley?” She pulled down on my sleeve momentarily.

“Yeah?” Was my response as I looked down at my girlfriend.

“Uh, I have to talk to Drew, so I’ll just meet you on the plane?”

“Why don’t you two just talk on the plane?” I suggested, furrowing my brow.

Ever since Colorado, I’d been a little suspicious of Drew and his intentions. I mean, neither she nor Drew ever explained to me what exactly happened and why they were fighting for those few days. My best guess was that Drew had come on to her or something like that, because it kinda takes a lot to get Sydney upset like that. I didn’t push it though because I knew that if she wanted to tell me what it was all about, she would have. She never did.

“I dunno,” She shrugged. “He’s just weird like that.”

“I can wait on you, if you want.” I offered, not wanting to get on the plane and chance her missing it.

“That’s okay, really. You guys go, and I’ll just meet you on there.” She assured me.

“Okay then,” I agreed, leaning down and kissing her on her forehead. “Don’t miss the flight.”

“Please, that plane is not leaving if I’m not on it.” Sydney scoffed.

“That’s what you think,” I teased, knowing fully well that the plane would in fact leave her.

“Oh, can you take my bags with you?” She’d asked me, holding them out to me.

“Sure, use me like a pack mule, what do I care?” I joked, taking her bags from her.

“You’re overdramatic.” She observed.

“Yeah, yeah, sure I am.” I retorted, then I walked away from her and Drew, giving Drew one last inconspicuous glance. Sure, I trusted Sydney in that moment and sure I trusted Drew, being that she was my girlfriend and he was my best friend and they’re supposed to, you know, care about me and all that good stuff. So I made my way down through the airport, joining Tanner who was at a vending machine, stacking up on some food. Jaime and Mikey though, they were already on the plane at the time. So, Tanner got some peanuts— which I proceeded to tell him was really dumb since they give you that kinda stuff on the airplane. He didn’t listen though and I got some chewing gum. Then Walker came along from the bathroom and said he was gonna go and get on the plane now. I wasn’t quite ready because I was insisting on waiting on my girlfriend and Tanner was trying to finish his food before we board. So Walker in addition to his stuff, grabbed Syd’s stuff from me and made his way to the plane.

It was a few minutes later when Walker texted me from the plane— since it hadn’t actually gone anywhere yet, he didn’t have to have it on Airplane Mode. I’d texted him back an okay, and then made my way down to the other side of the airport to where I’d left Sydney and Drew and Tanner, well, I don’t know what Tanner did. I guess he stayed sitting at the table that he was eating his peanuts and drinking his Capri Sun at.

When I made it back to Sydney and Drew, what I saw was shocking, to say the least. Shocking but also not so shocking, if that makes any sense at all. Sydney. Drew. Right there in the middle of the airport kissing like she wasn’t my girlfriend and he wasn’t my best friend. I see Sydney slightly raise her hands, but I’m actually so shocked that I can’t even move. I blink a few times and watch, as uncomfortable is that is for me. He pulls away from her a few seconds later and looks down at her and she looks back up at him. They’re quiet for a few seconds before I decide to make my presence known. I cleared my throat, which caused both Sydney and Drew to look over at me.

“The pilot said that we’re leaving in less than five minutes,” I said, my voice hard and cold.

“Brad—“ Sydney started, but I shook my head.

“Save it,” I practically spat at her before turning and walking away. I faintly heard her yell something at Drew, but I couldn’t decipher what exactly it was, because I was moving much too quickly. I remember taking large, widely spaced strides through the airport as anger pulsated through my veins. I know that I should have known better. I should have known better than to get involved with Sydney. I mean, I didn’t and still don’t regret our relationship, but I should have known that something stupid like Drew would come in between us. I always said that if anyone hurt anyone it’d be Sydney hurting me and I knew that that was right. Because I would have never intentionally hurt Sydney— I loved her too much.

I heard her running behind me, calling after me, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to look at her or even talk to her because I knew that if I did, I’d say something I didn’t want to say and I’d probably do something that I’d later regret. Like break-up with her. Because at the time, I was pissed off at her and hurt and just feeling betrayed, which the whole reason I ended things with her is.

When she finally caught up to me at the airport, I felt her pull on my arm sleeve and I’d automatically recoiled at her touch. Even as I did it, I saw a flash of hurt come across her face. Being the temperamental teenage boy I was and still am though, I ended it. I ended it without even listening to what she had to say. Mostly because I didn’t care what her explanation was because whatever the reason, she still cheated on me and partly because the plane was leaving really, really soon.

“Bradley, I k—“

“I don’t want to hear it,” I deadpanned, fighting to keep my face clear of emotion. “We’re over, Sydney.” I declared.

“Over?” She repeated, her voice going up a few octaves.

“Over,” I confirmed, stepping away from Sydney as I saw the first few tears roll down her face. Then I proceeded towards the lady taking the tickets and threw mine at her impatiently before walking through the black door leading to the plane. Not before looking back and seeing Sydney still in the same place, beginning to hyperventilate and heavily cry. I turned my back on her and made my way down the corridor to first class. Without talking to any of the other guys, I found my window seat and slipped into, buckling my seatbelt and looking out of the small rectangular window. I blinked a few times and cursed to myself when I felt a stupid tear escape my eye and roll down my cheek. I cursed because I didn’t wanna be sad about it, I didn’t want to be a wimp about breaking up with Sydney.

I think the only thing that stopped me from not murdering Drew when he came along was Sydney sitting in between us weeping. So badly I wanted to just turn to her and apologize for making her cry and take it all back and tell her that we were gonna be okay and that we’d have fun together in Italy. So badly I wanted to just let her know that it was okay, even though it wasn’t, just because I loved (and still love) her and I therefore overlook pretty much anything stupid or unwise that she does.

But I didn’t turn to Sydney. I didn’t apologize. I didn’t tell her that it was okay. I didn’t tell her that I love her. What instead did I do? I ignored her for the entire plane ride here, avoided riding with her and then I told her that I didn’t want to get back together and I didn’t want to be her friend anymore. I lied. I lied because she's so depressed and it's awful having to see her like that. But honestly, I'm not ready to get back with her. Not to mention, kissing her would be weird since Drew's lips have been on hers now. So I had hoped that if I told her that I didn't want to be her boyfriend or anything anymore it would have made her, you know, get over it, I guess, but it didn't. I didn't want to break up with Sydney, but really, I had no choice. Besides, when we go to college- if we go to separate ones- us being broken up will make things easier for her and she'll find someone that can always be with her and can love her wholly, which is all I want for her. To feel loved and to be as happy as she can be. 

“You did what?!” My mother shouts at me through the phone.

“I got arrested for fighting Drew,” I repeat nonchalantly.

“What on earth would you be fighting Drew? He’s one of your best friends!”

“He’s not my anything and if the police wouldn’t have pulled me off of him, I’d have tried to kill him.” I mutter.

“Bradley Nathan Edwards, you will not use that kind of language when you’re talking to me.” My mother reprimands me.

“Sorry,” I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “Look, can you just, you know, bail me out so I can come home?”

“You told your father and me that this is what you really, really wanted to do this summer and as hard as it was for us to let our baby leave and go off to a foreign country with your friends, we did. Now you’re there and you aren’t leaving until August when it’s time for time for you all to come home. Do I make myself clear, mister?”

“No, not really because I really, really don’t want to be here anymore.” I complain.

“Why is that? What changed so drastically that you’re wanting to come back home so early? And what about your girlfriend? I’m sure Sydney doesn’t want you to just leave her with the other boys.” She says, oblivious to the current relationship status of Sydney and me.

“Mom, Sydney’s not going to care if I come home or not. In fact, I firmly believe that if I leave today or as soon as I possibly can, she will be a lot happier and maybe she’ll finally start enjoying this stupid fuckery called a vacation.”

“Language,” My mom scowls. “And what do you mean by that? Are you two fighting?”

“We broke up, Ma. We broke up before the plane even got off the ground and I’ve been here dealing with it for six days and I don’t like it, so I want to come home. Please, mom?” I ask desperately.

“No! I’m not going to spend money to bring you back here just so that you can sulk around the house and eat peanut butter.”

“I don’t even like peanut butter,” I remind her after a few seconds of silence.

“Well, you know what I mean. Ice cream, whatever it is you teenagers do when you’re sad. Now, tell me why you two broke up.”

“I don’t really think it’s relevant and I’m pretty sure that I’m going to have to get off of the phone soon, so please, mother. I am literally begging you right now to just bail me out of here and let me come home. I’ll get a job or help around the house, I’ll even walk Poncho or something, whatever you want me to do; I’ll do it. Please, just let me come home.”

“You’re overdramatic.” My mom deems with a small chuckle as if my happiness in peril amuses her or something.  

“You’re under-dramatic,” I shoot back, annoyed with her for not seeing things my way. “Is dad there?”

“No, he’s performing a heart transplant right about now and I’m not going to interrupt him with your teenage angst. So, you’re just going to have to stick it out and deal with what you’ve done. You’re not coming back to America until August, at least, not via me.”

“Why are you being so mean to me?” I ask, seriously considering banging my head into the dirty, chipped brick wall beside me. Maybe if I do it enough times, I’ll die from a concussion or something. Can you die from a concussion? I’m pretty sure that you can. When I played football in high school, I got plenty of concussions, but I never died. Obviously. I’m not suicidal or anything weird like that, I just don’t want to be in this stupid country anymore. I’d rather go back to my stupid country where I can back to my stupid state of Michigan and go back to my stupid house and look at my stupid parents and Sydney’s stupid house and listen to some stupid music on stupid YouTube on my stupid laptop while my stupid dog licks me continuously.

“Oh, please, I am not being mean to you, Bradley.” My mom scoffs. “I love you and I miss you, but I really am doing this for your own good. I mean, think about it. When you grow up and your boss gives you something to do that you really don’t want to do, you can’t just quit and give up.”

“I don’t know why not.” I reply grumpily.

“Because that’s stupid and you’re not stupid.”

“So, are you not going to bail me out or are you?”

“I’ll call Harry now and he should be able to get you out soon enough. Stay out of trouble and I’ll see you in two months, okay?”

“Okay,” I sigh, knowing that she won’t relent. “Thanks mom.”

“You’re welcome. I love you sweetie.” My mom says in soft, somewhat nurturing voice.

“Yeah, love you too,” I reply, putting the phone back on the holdup thing.

Then I make my way back into the holding cell and sigh heavily as the uniformed officer slides it closed behind me so that it locks and I’m literally confined to the small cage. Sitting down on the weird looking bench thing, I hunch over and put my elbows on my knees then drop my head, looking at the cemented floor below me. I hear an officer enter the room and call Drew, telling him that he can make his phone call now. At least, that’s what I roughly translate it to from what I remember of the two years I took of Italian starting when I was I guess, thirteen. I stopped taking it after freshman year when I was fifteen, so it’s been nearly three years since I spoke it or practiced any of it, but I remember a few key words, like phone and call, so that’s how I know the lady just told Drew he can call someone right now.

Honestly, I don’t think that it’s my fault at all that we’re where we are right now, Drew and me. I mean, since I’m really not talking to any of the guys or anyone at Francesca’s place for that matter, I had no idea that Sydney, Elena, Jaime, Mikey, Walker and Tanner were all gone for the day or whatever. I don’t even know where they went to or if they even know that Drew and I were arrested. It’s not as if I was the one antagonizing Drew— no, it was actually the other way around. Just a few hours before we landed ourselves here, I was finally rolling out of bed at around 1:30, I guess. I was pretty hung-over from the whole ordeal last night at Drew’s birthday party or whatever you want to call it. Anyway, once I woke up, I went downstairs looking for some food. By that time, Sydney, Elena Jaime, Mikey, Walker, Tanner and Francesca were already gone to wherever it is they went to.

I was in the kitchen, making myself some grilled cheese sandwiches since that’s really all that I can make, but then Drew came in there. Mind you, this was the first time I’d be alone with him since he’d shoved his tongue down my girlfri— ex girlfriend’s throat. I didn’t say anything to him and he didn’t say anything to me, at first. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out some lasagna from the previous night or something and started eating it. He asked me how stuff was with Sydney and I told him that he damn well how they were, because, I mean, he did. So then he scoffed and asked me if we were going to get back together, Syd and me. I shrugged noncommittally and then left the kitchen, going to the living room.

The bastard came in there after me and just started talking to me like we were still friends or something. I told him that he knew I hated him and to go away but then he started acting like a bitch so we both stood up and got really close to each other. He pushed me back forcefully— I firmly believe that had I not been hung-over, his push wouldn’t have affected me quite so much. I pushed him back, of course and then a huge fight just broke out. Tables were broken, punches were thrown, blood was shed, couches were flipped— it wasn’t nice at all. We went on fighting on the ground for only about ten minutes before Francesca came back and started yelling for us to stop, but when we wouldn’t, she called the police and here we are.

“You know, this is your entire fault, Edwards,” Drew calls after he finishes his phone call.

“My fault? You’re the one who kissed my girlfriend, Rogers,” I remind him.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like she didn’t kiss me back,” Drew replies.

“Well, if you hadn’t kissed her at first, she wouldn’t have kissed you back.”

“You know what, Bradley? Do you even know what your problem is?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” I sigh heavily, clenching and unclenching my fist.

“You think that you’re better than me and you’re not. You think that you’re better for Sydney than I am and you’re not. You think you’re just the shit and guess what Bradley? You’re not. So stop walking around like you’re better than me, because you’re not.”

“That was probably the most repetitive thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” I inform him. “Why don’t you look the fuck around? We’re sitting in a jail cell because of you. Not me, you, Drew. I don’t think I’m better than other people, I don’t even think that I’m better than you, despite the fact that you are pretty much the scum of the earth. Don’t you think I know that they’re guys out there that are probably a hell of a lot better for her than I am? Of course I do, but evidently she doesn’t think that you’re one on them. You cannot make her like you, Drew and you can’t try to ruin our relationship just because you like her.”

“Me ruin your relationship?” Drew scoffs incredulously. “I think you did a pretty bang up job of that yourself, Bradley,” He replies.

“Okay, so you did it Drew— you got Sydney and me to break up, and guess what? She still doesn’t want you. Plus, she kind of hates you, so what does that tell you? She doesn’t want you. She never has and she never will. So, just leave her alone, I mean it.”

“You sure are protective of her, aren’t you? Why’d you even break up with her then?”

I open my mouth to defend my decision to break it off with Sydney, but I’m cut off by the sound of a police officer walking into the dimly lit room. He comes over to the holding cell that I’m in and unlocks it, pulling it open. He gestures for me to get up and walk out, then mutters something along the lines of, ‘you can go’ so I guess he’s American. That or he just speaks really awful Italian. Then he goes to Drew’s cell and pulls it open. I think having us in separate holding cells was a good idea because if I’d been close enough to that stupid son of a bitch, I probably would have beat his head into the concrete wall until the life was gone from him.

“Nice going, guys,” Tanner sarcastically says from behind me, making me look at him over my shoulder. “Really, good job.”

“What happened?” Walker demands, as he, Tanner, Mikey, Elena and Jaime all walk towards us. Sydney’s not with them though.  

“Drew and me got into a fight, that’s it— no big deal,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders.

“That’s a huge deal! You got idiots got arrested.” Mikey counters. “In Italy! Who the hell does that?”

“Yeah, well, we both got bail, and my mom’s talking to our family accountant right now.” I explain.

“Yeah, my parents are calling our lawyers, so it’s all good.” Drew interjects as if anyone asked for his words.

“I guess you better call your mom back and tell her to cancel the talk with the accountant then,” Walker says, looking at me. “Sydney already paid for your bail— in full.” He explicates.

“Wait, what?” I ask, my eyes widening at Walker’s words. “My bond is like, a lot though.”

“Yeah, I know, you and Drew both have a bail of 574.23 euros.” Walker says.

“That’s $750.” Tanner interjects, quickly doing the mental math, converting the money.

“So, you’re saying that Sydney paid $750 to get me out of here?” I skeptically ask.

“Well, not all by herself— she’s not rich, you know.” Mikey tells me. “She had like, $400 and the rest she got from her dad. She called him up and told him that she had an emergency and that she really needed the money, so he sent it to her, she got it all converted, and yeah, here we are.”

“Well,” I clear my throat, looking around. “Where, um, where is she?” Considering the fact that I’ve been so bad to her— ending things between us, ignoring her the entire plane ride, telling her that I don’t want to be her friend or boyfriend and yelling at her last night at Drew’s stupid little whatever, I can’t believe she actually fronted my bail so that I could get out of jail. Well, she and her dad, but still.

“Syd? She’s out in the car…didn’t feel like getting out,” Tanner notes, giving me a frustrated look. “You have to talk to her, man.”

“Wait, what about me?” Drew suddenly interrupts the conversation before I have a chance to reply to Tanner.

“What about you?” Walker wonders, looking over at him.

“I know damn well Sydney didn’t spend a dime on me, so how am I supposed to get out?”

“We scraped together some money, and you now owe us $750,” Walker responds.

“Oh, yeah, I’m not paying you $750,” Drew shakes his head, coming out of the cell. “Thanks though, guys.”

 “You really are an awful friend,” Mikey observes, talking to Drew.

“So, we brought two cars and one of you is either going to have ride with Syd or ride with each other, what’ll it be?” Walker says.

“I’ll ride with her,” Drew volunteers, raising his hand.

“As long as I don’t have to ride with him, I don’t care who I go with.” I murmur, rubbing my wrists where the handcuffs were digging in. So, with that, Drew and I both sign some release papers and whatnot and head out of the jail. Drew, Walker and Elena get into the car that Sydney’s in and I get in with Mikey, Jaime and Tanner. The ride back to Francesca’s house is really quiet and awkward and I look down at my hand, flexing it as I feel a rush of pain spring through it. I know it’s not broken or anything like that, but it really hurts. During the course of the fight, I smashed my fist into Drew’s face a few good times, so that’s probably why.

Sydney, Drew, Walker and Elena get back to the house a few seconds before we do, so I don’t actually get the chance to talk to Sydney and thank her and stuff. I mean, I guess I probably could have, but once the car stopped in front of Francesca’s place, she opened the door and practically ran into the house and up the stairs. It was kinda funny actually, even though I know it shouldn’t have been, but I’ve never seen her run that fast, not even in her track meets when we were still in high school.

Back at the house, I go up to my room and plop down on my bed with a long and drawn out sigh. I noticed on the way up here that the living room looks a heck of a lot better than it did when the police came and dragged Drew and me away. Francesca must have gotten it all fixed up, well, for the most part, that is, because not everything was cleaned up in there. The couch was still flipped, but from what I could tell, the glass was all gone. And if you’re wondering why there even was glass, we were near the coffee table— which is why it broke— and there was a vase full of flowers sitting atop of it and Drew smashed it over my head. That resulted in a huge migraine, one which I’m still suffering from right now.

I pick my wallet up from my bedside table and pull it open, rifling through it and seeing that II have a good six hundred dollars in there. Because I’ve been so down and miserable, I don’t really go anywhere aside from that club and that’s why I have yet to convert my American money for Italian money. I decide that I’ll do that tomorrow and give Francesca’s some of it to go towards fixing and replacing the stuff Drew and I broke. Because I do feel really bad about that, since she’s letting us stay here in her home for free and all. Suddenly my door flies open and I turn around, seeing Tanner with a very angry expression on his face.

“Sure, just come on in, buddy.” I sarcastically murmur,

“Hey man,” He sighs heavily, ignoring my sarcastic comment.

“What’s up?” I ask, raising an eyebrow suspiciously at him.

“Bradley, you really, really fucked up, you know that? Dude, Sydney just used her personal money to bail you out of jail and she didn’t have to do that. But she did and you haven’t even talked to her. A thank you, at least, man. I imagine that this must be hard for you, but it’s really hard on Sydney, okay? She’s miserable. Completely and terribly depressed. I mean, she tries to put on a happy face when I make her, but otherwise, she’ll just lie in bed and cry and sleep all day. That is so wrong. On so many levels, dude. You know how her room is right in between mine and Walker’s, right? Well, the walls aren’t very thick. They’re not very thick at all. Do you know what I hear Sydney do every single night? Cry. That’s what she does every night. She cries herself to sleep, save for last night because she was too busy throwing up. But it’s not an easy thing to have to listen to every night. So, what I’m telling you to do is to go and talk to her. You don’t have to get back with her, not if you don’t want to, but dammit, Bradley, you better fix her because you fucked her up.”

I clear my throat and look up from the floor at Tanner, who’s red-faced and pacing the room. “What am I supposed to do?” I ask.

“I don’t know, but you better do something, because this shit? This shit is not okay, Bradley.” And with that, Tanner walks out of the room, quietly pulling the door closed behind him. I then make the mistake of looking down at my arm and seeing Sydney’s name inked across my bicep in the black calligraphy. With a somewhat regretful sigh, I fall back on my back, grab a pillow and mush it over my face, letting out a loud groan.