When Time Ran Crooked

6 hours, 22 minutes and 35 seconds Until

We arrived at his house a couple of hours later. Night had fallen by then, the darkness smearing the once bright sky until the stars sprouted. And I just drove, drive through the blackness to keep the shadows from clinging to me. Claude was passed out in the backseat, like the little lightweight that he is.

But finally, we pulled up to a house. Honestly, I kind of expected Claude's family to live in a miniature castle, but it was just an ordinary house. It was pretty, very pretty, but nothing out of the land of fairy tales like I had expected. The house, however, was surrounded by numerous cars.

"Claude?"

He emitted a snore.

I rolled my eyes. "Claude."

He shot up, startled into the waking world. "Wha- Bees? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Everything's fine," I reassured him. "It's just that we are at your family's house."

"We are?" I watched him look out the window. "I guess we are."

I turned away from him now, staring down the inky road I would travel. "So I guess it was nice knowing you-"

"Bees."

I ignored him. "-I think you can handle getting your stuff out of the back. So I should really get going now, if you would-"

"Bees, I think I'm going to throw up," he told me.

Oh, fuck.

"Not in the rental car," I insisted, quickly.

"Ugh, Bea," he groaned.

Fucking Claude.

Swiftly, I got out of the car and hurried to the backseat. I grabbed him under his shoulders and helped pull him out. As soon as he got out, letting me shut the door behind him, he stumbled all over his feet. I wrapped my arm around his back and let him lean against me.

"You better not vomit on me," I insisted.

"I just want to go to bed," he mumbled.

I couldn't help but soften. I remembered my first time being drunk, and I knew Claude was different than most. I sighed. "Let me help you inside, okay? I'll grab your bags for you later."

I basically dragged Claude with me up the steps to the door.

"It should be unlocked," he told me.

He was right.

I opened the door.

Here I was, wearing an old Maroon 5 tour shirt (yes, I had fucking put it on), holding up a man who reeked of Jack Daniels, blood, and sweat. And suddenly I was in this beautiful house, surrounded by people in elegant dresses and suits. They sipped champagne and snacks that were much nicer than just pigs in a blankets. Fucking Claude.

"My room is ..." he mumbled.

"Where?" I demanded.

But then he started giggling and he wouldn't stop giggling, so he was pretty fucking useless to me and I had no idea where I was going.

"Claude!"

Abruptly, a woman appeared in front of me. I don't know how, but I knew instantly that she was Claude's mother. She had his thick head of golden blonde hair, and the same wicked eyes. The rest of her face was different than the man I supported, but all I could was him in her eyes. Of course, unlike the dirty guy in my arms, she wore an elegant gold dress and held a glass of wine.

"Who are you?" She hissed at me.

"Uh, I'm Bea," I said, instantly. I shook my head. "Sorry. I've been traveling with Claude for the last couple of days. We would've been here sooner except that Claude's, um, not feeling too well. I think I'll just take him up to his room and out of the way, if you could show me the way-"