Chapter 3: Red Hair, Silver Tongue

Jasper and Second set out to Phoenix, Arizona in order to recruit Tequila to their squad, but the convincing process might be a tad harder this time.

Following our discussion, Second and I went our separate ways for the night. I checked into the closest hotel I could find, not caring about what rooms were vacant, or how nice the room was. It didn't matter, because it was just going to be for the night.

Soon after sunrise, I met my best friend at his apartment complex, and after helping him load his suitcase into the trunk, we took off. Aside from the occasional stop to switch drivers, we managed to clear the second half of the journey to Phoenix. Not long after arriving in the city, we passed by St. Theodore University.

"Hey look, there's our college!" Second pointed out. "Looks like the campus has been renovated quite a bit since we last saw it."

"Yeah, I remember the paint on those bricks used to be all weathered and chipped, and that statue was showing its age," I replied.

"Man, those were the days," Second mused, a relaxed grin on his face.

Even though it had been ten years, I could still clearly remember the address that Tequila lived at during college. She lived less than twenty minutes away from campus, so she figured there was no point in living on the school grounds like the rest of us. Not that we minded it very much. If anything, it just meant we could have a quiet studying area all to ourselves.

The house in question had Spanish-style architecture and was painted mostly in the shade of guava, sans the white trim and the pomegranate shingles on the roof. The front yard had minimal grass, opting instead for smooth, sand-based soil, and the landscaping was entirely cactus-based. Much like the girl who resided there, the house hadn't aged a day since I last looked at it. Of course I didn't know if she still lived in that house now, but if she didn't, then surely her parents would know where to find her.

I parked the car on the curb and left Second in the passenger seat, before walking up the cobblestone path to the front door. The moment I heard that familiar doorbell ring after I pressed it, I felt a tsunami of nostalgia wash over me. It almost felt as though I was back in college, about to enter my classmate's house so I could join my friends in studying for finals week. Studying tirelessly until the smell of authentic Chilean food wafted upstairs, signaling the four of us to take a break and chow down.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as the door opened, revealing Tequila's mother, Carmen Rodriguez. Even if you weren't acquainted with her daughter, you probably wouldn't have trouble knowing who she was. She was a famous model, mostly found in ads for swimwear, lingerie, and occasionally fitness gear. Her curvaceous physique was the same as ever, but her balsamic-colored hair was graying in a few spots and her face had aged a bit.

Neither she nor any of the other family members looked anything like Tequila, but rest assured, they were blood related. Apparently the latter got her distinctive appearance as a result of recessive genes from an Irish man who fornicated with one of her ancestors. And oddly enough, her birth marked the first time those genes had ever resurfaced.

"J-Jasper... ?" Carmen asked in shock, not taking very long to recognize me.

"Yep, that's me," I replied, taken by surprise as I was forced into a hug.

"My goodness, it's been so many years! Oh, you must come in!" Carmen replied.

"Er... I suppose we could stay for a little while," I said. "Yo, Second! Come on in!"

With that, the three of us entered the house. Much like the exterior, the interior of the house hadn't changed a bit. I could go on a whole tangent, describing every little thing about the interior, but I'll spare you the boredom. I looked around, half-expecting to see some of Tequila's other family members. Like her dad, who was an insurance agent. Or her younger brother, who was in high school the last time I saw him. Or that old, American Shorthair cat who loved to fall asleep in peoples' laps. The most iconic of the bunch was her grandmother, whose sense of humor was quite lewd but always made me laugh my a*s off. She'd sadly passed away shortly after graduation, however.

"Seems like only yesterday you two were coming over almost every day so you could do homework upstairs," Carmen mused as she led us into the kitchen.

"Yeah, and you would always make those awesome empanadas for us," Second replied. "And depending on your mood, sometimes you'd bring them upstairs for us, or you'd make us come down to eat."

"Just like old times," I added.

"Heh, well I'm afraid I don't have any empanadas on hand, but I do have some imported Chilean coffee if you two want any," Carmen replied.

Second and I simply shrugged and sat at the table, before accepting the steaming mugs.

"So, uh, since it's been years since we last spoke, I guess it's only appropriate to ask how you've been," I said, stirring some cream into my beverage.

"Eh, we've been getting by just fine. I've had to give up modeling, though, since that job is exclusive to redheads now," Carmen explained. "Fortunately, my husband was able to keep his job as an insurance agent, and since both our kids have moved out, the money he makes is all we need."

"Well, we've been trying to make do, but I won't deny it's been pretty tough," Second replied, pouring himself a refill. "I'm stuck working at a fast food joint with average income, and Jasper here is stuck printing money. Neither of us wanted these jobs but we were forced into them."

"Funny. I assumed that new graduates would have an easier time adjusting to the new laws than anyone else," Carmen replied.

"Yeah, well that's just a myth. Honestly, I wouldn't mind this system quite as much if the president who introduced it wasn't such an a*****e," I chimed in.

"Jasper!" Carmen raised her voice.

"Oh, whoops. My bad," I quickly replied, remembering her strict no-swearing rule from several years back. "But yeah, may I ask how Tequila's doing?"

"Oh, well I'm sure you probably know this, but her career as an author took off not long after graduation. In case you're wondering where she is, she's currently holding a book-signing over in Flagstaff," Carmen replied.

"Well, that effectively does part of our job for us," Second chimed in.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Carmen asked.

"Oh, uh, we're just trying to round up the gang for, uh... a friend reunion! Yeah!" I stammered, figuring it probably wasn't a good idea to reveal our true intentions.

"Well, that's nice," Carmen replied. "Hope you all have fun."

"I'm sure we will. But I think if we wanna catch her in time, we'd better get a move on," Second said, politely standing up.

"Alright, well it was nice to see you two again. Take care!" Carmen waved us out.

With that, Second and I made the drive over to Flagstaff, which was just a few cities over. Upon entering the city limits, the sun was already starting to set. It didn't take long to locate the library where the book-signing was taking place. I parked the car on the curb just outside the establishment, directly behind a shiny cobalt-blue BMW Z4. The two of us got out, and after I slipped a dollar's worth of quarters into the meter, we entered the library.

A crowd of mostly middle-aged men and women were sitting down in a cluster of fold-up chairs. I could easily spot Tequila, for she was the only redhead in the vicinity, and was also sporting a rather bright outfit. The edges of a pure white, untucked dress shirt were peeking out from the collar, sleeves, and bottom of her carnation-pink argyle cardigan, while also clashing against her cadet-blue skinny jeans.

"So all you good folks might be wondering: hey Ms. Rodriguez, what was the inspiration behind this story? Well this story was partially inspired by Steven Universe, which was one of my favorite cartoons as a kid, and... hold on," she said, before she cut herself off upon noticing us.

Not wanting to disrupt the event, the two of us simply grinned and waved. She smiled back and continued her tirade before anyone else would get distracted.

After the reading ended, we had to wait through the book signing as well, which took about an hour. We spent the time browsing through the rest of the library's contents, discovering interesting pieces of literature both new and old. Second even managed to pick up a copy of Tequila's newest book and took a peek at it, and according to him, it was pretty damn good. Once everyone cleared out with their autographed novels, Tequila finally got the chance to speak to us. She hurried over, her tan flats making a muffled sound I couldn't quite identify as they made contact with the dense carpet.

"What's up, Jasper?!" she asked eagerly as she enveloped me in a tight hug. "And Second, is that really you? I haven't seen or heard from you even once since graduation!"

"Well it's a long story," Second replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, a long story that can be told in a more suitable place," Tequila replied, withdrawing from the hug and leading us to the door. "Besides, the library's about to close."

To my utter surprise, that BMW I'd parked behind was actually Tequila's car. Second and I climbed into my own car and we followed her back to her own house, which was all the way back in Phoenix. Her three-story residence had a navy-blue exterior and a sleek, modern appearance. It wasn't a mansion, but it was quite nice, and it was even located in a gated neighborhood full of hills. Tequila parked her car in the driveway just outside the garage, while I parked mine on the curb.

As we followed her up towards the front door, I also took note of the front yard. Much like the one at her parents' house, it consisted mostly of pebbles and cacti, with minimal grass. The mailbox was adjacent to the front door, hung open and full of envelopes, along with a small yellow package.

"Ah, I see it's that time of the month," Tequila said, sauntering over to the mailbox and emptying its contents.

"Er..." I uttered as Second arced an eyebrow.

"No, not that time of the month... although that's true too. I meant the time of the month when a new video game comes out," Tequila explained. "And you can bet that I always pre-order."

I simply chuckled at that unabashed remark. Clearly she'd gotten that sense of humor from her grandma. It was one of the many minor yet memorable things I found interesting about her. Such as how she always bit into her food from the side of her mouth, or how she always tied her hair back with a strip of leather instead of a tried and true scrunchy.

"I honestly never knew you were a gamer," Second commented.

"Well I can't spend all my time writing, now can I?" Tequila asked in a matter-of-fact tone as she unlocked the door for us.

"Yes. I guess you're right," Second replied.

Upon entering the foyer, a hallway loomed directly in front of us. At the other end was a glass door leading out back, where I could see a sizable swimming pool enclosed in a fence. Aside from that, the interior of the house was just as sleek and modern as the exterior. On the way to the living room, Tequila proceeded to walk us through a kitchen that was mostly black, save for the gray walls and floor, and the white granite on the countertops.

"Alright, you two wait here while I go whip something up," she politely ordered, before departing. "It shouldn't take too long."

Second and I simply shrugged and sat down. I took the opportunity to examine the room around us. The walls were a pale yellow, and the floors were hardwood, save for a large, imported South American rug in the center. The furniture consisted of an L-shaped couch, a large footrest, a pair of armchairs, and even a love-seat. And it was all made of leather in various muted colors. A large flatscreen was on the wall above the fireplace. It was one of those small electric ones, encased in glass paneling and consisting of only translucent rocks and flames. A glass coffee-table was halfway between the couch and the TV, and on top of it was a framed photograph of all four of us as college students inside Tequila's old bedroom, busying ourselves with homework. Looking up at the ceiling, I could tell that she'd forgone a fan or complex light-fixture, instead opting for tube-lights and a few small ceiling vents.

Soon enough, the oven chimed. Looking to my left, I was provided a view of the kitchen, where I saw Tequila bend over to remove a baking sheet from the oven, providing a brief glimpse of her scarlet thong. I chose not to give it much thought and instead turned on the TV, which was already flipped to MSNBC.

"Good evening, viewers! In today's top story, President Gonzalez has announced that he will be signing an executive order to demolish the Mexican border wall," the announcer said. "Earlier today, he claimed that the wall is a direct contradiction to America's status as the land of the free, and that the country should be open to foreigners. So moving forward, in order to compensate for the now open border, he plans to strengthen the border patrol and ensure that all immigrants, provided they've been background-checked, complete their documentation right upon entry."

"Finally! You've done something right!" Second sneered, eliciting a nod from me.

"And in other news, Gonzalez has once again flipped his stance on abortion," the announcer continued.

"Dude, just make up your mind already!" I groaned, rolling my eyes before I picked up a pungent scent wafting into the living room.

"Alright, guys! Dinner's on!" Tequila announced.

Second and I watched as she stepped into the room, carrying an ornately-colored platter full of empanadas arranged in a multi-layered circle, with a white ramekin full of mint chutney in the center. After setting both it and a stack of napkins down on the glass coffee-table, she then retreated to the kitchen once more. She was quick to return, vigorously rattling a large silver cocktail-shaker in one hand, and holding a set of three glasses in the other.

"Aw, man!" Second said in awe, not hesitating to bite into his first empanada. "These are just like your mom's!"

"Well that's because they are," Tequila replied as she sat down between us. "She thinks my cooking sucks, so she keeps on sending me these. I'd tell her to stop, but I'd be lying if I said these didn't come in handy, especially whenever I'm rushed for time."

"Well you can bet I'm not complaining. These things are really taking me back," I chimed in. "Gotta say, you've got a pretty nice place."

"Yeah, it's fine. I honestly don't care how the hell my house looks. Just so long as I'm not sharing it with my parents. I swear, living there got more irritating the older I got," Tequila explained, her speech garbled with spicy shredded veal and crunchy dough. "Don't get me wrong, I love 'em to death, but my mom's been on this stupid 'respect Mother Nature' kick ever since I was born, and she made the whole goddamn household participate in it. Everyday it was always 'don't eat this', 'don't shave that', 'don't do this'! Just on and on!"

"Now that sounds like torture," I replied.

"If I'm being honest, though, part of me expected you to be in some position of government. Y'know, since you have violet eyes and all?" Second said, dunking his third empanada into the chutney.

"Yeah, well it's been scientifically proven. Violet eyes don't actually exist. They're just a rare shade of blue, and we all know what happens to people with blue eyes," Tequila replied. "Not that I'm complaining, though."

There were a few more minutes of silence between us, during which we continued to eat and watch the news, and all but one of the empanadas were consumed. Things picked up again as Tequila took the lid off the cocktail shaker and started pouring its contents into the glasses.

"Say, that reminds me. Why exactly were you named after an alcoholic beverage?" I began, taking a sip of my drink. It turned out to be a liquor cooler that was made with Mexican Coke, orange liqueur, and pomegranate juice.

"Oh, that? Nothing to it, really. Apparently while I was in the womb, I had a real kick to me, much like the actual drink. I was originally gonna be named 'Teresa', but then I was nicknamed before I was even born, and the name kinda' stuck," Tequila switched to a thick Latin-American accent as she pronounced her intended name. "In fact, it's only the nickname that appears on all my legal documents."

"Heh, just when you think you know a woman," I said, cutting half of the last empanada for myself.

"Well I can't say I know a single woman who spills her secrets all at once," Tequila replied, following a slightly seductive, effeminate chuckle.

"Say, uh, back to the blue eye thing," Second chimed in, grabbing the remaining half. "That's kinda' why we sought you out. How do you feel about joining our cause?"

"Well for starters, what's this cause for?" Tequila asked.

"I decided to start a resistance in order to rebel against the system our president has put in place," I explained, pouring myself another glass of the half-alcoholic beverage. "And I figured the easiest people to get on my side were my close friends."

"Well, I hate to say it, but I honestly don't see the point. I mean, you guys already know that all I wanted my adult life to consist of was a career as an author and some decent income in return," Tequila replied. "And even with this new set of laws in full effect, I still wound up with exactly the life I wanted. Sure, I ended up richer than I wanted to be, but there's nothing wrong with a little extra money, am I right?"

"Yes, but you just got lucky," Second replied. "... Come to think of it, we could use that as an example when it comes time to speak out in front of the crowds."

"Yeah, think about the countless other people who've been forced into jobs and salaries completely different from the ones they wanted," I argued. "In fact, before we met up at the library, Second and I briefly stopped at your parents' place. Your mom told us she had to give up her successful modeling career because her hair wasn't the legal color. I don't know about you, but I feel pretty bad for her. I remember she used to be so happy and proud of her job back in the day, but thanks to that dumbass occupying the Oval Office, she was essentially deprived of happiness."

"And as you most likely know by this point, I always dreamed of becoming a doctor like my mom. I even took a bit of time after college to attend medical school, so I could get my Ph.D, only for it to be declared null and void!" Second added. "Now my only choice is to work in an area in which I have little to no talent, and it's not fun in the slightest."

There. A pair of convincing, well thought out arguments that were likely to sway Tequila's viewpoint.

"Well, yeah... yeah, that's true..." her voice trailed off.

"Please, Tequila. You're one of my best friends. It would mean the world to me if you would fight by my side," I pleaded.

"Not to mention you'd make a great spokeswoman for the movement. I mean, both of us saw you utterly shut down Teddy Griffin the other night! Just imagine being able to shut down the president of the United States in the same fashion!" Second added.

"So will you do it? For us? For the entire country? For my mom?" I asked with a tone of conviction.

A few moments of silence passed as Second and I anxiously awaited her answer.

"Alright, I'll do it," Tequila finally answered. "I'll fight if it means earning our country's freedom. Plus, it'll give me the chance to catch up with my closest pals."

"Alright!" I cheered.

"Yeah!" Second cheered.

"Now this calls for a toast," Tequila said, pouring the last of the shaker's contents into our glasses. "To the resistance?"

"To the resistance!" all three of us exclaimed in unison.