TITLE: I'm Not Okay

AUTHOR: freelance spice

RATING: M for language

FANDOM: Baby Sitters Club

PAIRING: Charlotte Johannsen/Vanessa Pike, Charlotte/Stacey

SUMMARY: Charlotte and Vanessa make a ruckus in New York.

NOTES: This follows The Kristy Thomas Guide to High School Romance and Maybe (That's Never)

Some things just naturally suck, like that weird soda from a few years ago with the jello shit floating in it or Jessica Simpson covering any song or the winter holidays.

Thanksgiving means I get to truck back home to Stoneybrook, brood in my bedroom for most of the weekend, and avoid all the hometown losers who pretend like they've missed me, when I really know they haven't even given a second fucking thought to the fact that I've been away for the last four years. Most of them, anyway. Vanessa Pike's cool. Simply because she'll make out with anyone after two or three shots.

Christmas is worse, though. Two weeks back at the homestead, being shuttled around to family parties and other festivities. This season was a little different. Better, even. Being the sixteen year old only daughter of a reasonably successful doctor translates to things like cars as gifts. Nothing too fancy, but wheels nonetheless.

And this is how Vanessa and I ended up cruising central Manhattan in my Saturn Ion just two days after Christmas.

"Maybe there!" Vanessa rolled down the window to get a better look at a possible parking space.

I immediately hit the button to her window. "Keep them up. It's too fucking cold out."

"Sorry." She sipped on her spiked cherry coke and went back to watching for an open space.

"Fuck it, I'll just pay."

"Wait, there!"

"I'll never fit."

"There's plenty of room."

"When's the last time you parallel parked?"

"I hadta do it for the driving test."

"The one you failed, twice?"

"That's because of speeding. I parked just fine."

By some miracle, I managed to squeeze into the open space. "Well, damn, we fit."

I grabbed the coke and downed the rest of the drink. I was not nearly drunk enough. And frankly, neither was Vanessa. I climbed into the back of the car, popped one of the seats forward and pulled a bottle of Skyy Citrus from the trunk. Vodka's like a Vanessa magnet, so she was over the seats and next to me in about three seconds. We slugged back a few rounds, giggling as the buzz set in, kissing once it was there to stay for a while.

"We're fogging up the windows," I mumbled, catching my breath.

"So?" She pulled me right back into her, lips on mine.

I gave in for another minute, then broke away. "So… we didn't drive all this way just to do what we can do in the Stoneybrook Rec Center parking lot."

One hand checked to make sure my keys were in my pocket, the other wrapped itself around Vanessa's hand and pulled her out of the car. We staggered for the first block or so, but the cold air took a layer of the buzz off, forcing focus into us.

"Here. This one. Shandi said they don't card unless it's a weekend." I nudged Vanessa toward the end of a line leading into a club.

She made a face. "Shandi." Vanessa doesn't like to talk about any of my other make out buddies, which is totally hypocritical, because she gives out hand jobs like Halloween candy.

"No! I'm NOT going home. YOU go home." Ahead of us, someone shoved a guy out of the line toward the street.

The guy glared at the girl who pushed him, then moved back toward her. Vanessa and I exchanged glances.

"The fuck?" I leaned around the people in front of us. I could see the guy grabbing someone by the arm. He wasn't very big, probably five-nine, one-sixty. "Stay here."

"FRANK! Fuck off!" The girl yanked her arm free, but he just grabbed her again.

"Hey, Frank." He turned to look at me. It was probably really hard to see me because my fist connected with his nose shortly thereafter.

"Fuckin' bitch…" Frank teetered for a moment, holding his hand to his bloody face.

The bouncer stepped between us. "You're all going to have to leave."


"Vanessa, I said to stay back…" But she hadn't said my name. It was Frank's date. And after finally taking a look at her, I could see why she knew my name. "Stacey?"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Putting assholes in their place." I looked back at Frank and couldn't suppress the giggle that surfaced.

"Are you drunk?"

I shrugged. "Brawl's kindofa buzzkill."

"Does your mom know where you are?"

"Does yours?"

"I'm not sixteen."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. I know. You're a considerable four years older than I am. Like I could ever forget."

"Charlotte, I…"

The bouncer was still staring at me, waiting for me to leave.

"Look, I'd love to catch up, but I've kind of got plans to get wasted and get laid. By someone my own age. Besides, your… boyfriend probably needs a band aid." I whipped around and walked back to Vanessa, pulling her out of line.

We polished off the vodka, fogged the tinted windows right back up, and crossed lines we'd maintained until that night. Before then, it had just been making out, over the clothes kind of stuff. But seeing Stacey just made me want to forget her, any way I could.

I don't think Vanessa seemed to mind. In fact, I think maybe she didn't mind a little too much.