Screwed (Chapter One- Summer)
Chapter One- Summer (April-June)
April 12, 2010
" Good morning, Desposition! This is DJ Tumbletom, and my oh my what a wonderful morning! What better way to spend your summer days than to go outside, have a dip at the beach, and relax, eh? Now you might ask me,"Oh DJ Tumbletom, I don't want to go to the beach!" Well, I say, "Screw you!", but oh well to the squares out there, at least you'll be better off at our wonderful park! Forecast, thanks to our awesome weather guy, seems to be one cloudy day, so what a perfect way to "read a book" or "play chess", eh?Eh?Eh?Now, let's go to-"
I turned the radio off, and instant silence flew out of my tiny earphones. What joy does the radio bring if there's something else better off that's just right under your nose? No high school kids. I just realized it. One of the best things in the world, in my opinion. And I just realized it. I couldn't help but have a big flashing smile in my face. I felt like a deer who just found out the entire forest is clear of wolves, or Kanye West who found out that Obama is actually a black person. I waved to old Mr. Crockett who was opening up his hardware store, I helped old Mrs. Mason cross the street, I avoided the pedophile Mr. Mason's gaze. All is well.
I turned right, and stayed put as I gazed at my castle. My own version of Hogwarts. The Pebblecreek Library.
I inhaled the beautiful morning air, and stepped foot inside. There I found were rows and rows of books. From the classic daring novels like The Catcher in the Rye to...Twilight (I mean every disgust). I struggled with the urge to as what the foul cretins in school say "jizz in my pants", and walked towards the librarian's corner, where the wonderful Ms. Danderburg sat, sleeping with her head down on the table. I faked a little cough, causing Mrs. Danderberg to lift her head up. Her sleepy eyes found mine. "Oh Liz Dawson, you gave me quite a start!", Mrs. Danderburg said lazily. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Danderburg", I said politely. "It's alright, dear", she said, starting to stand up. "It's good that you came by, I need to get something from my house." She took her purse from the table, and faced me again. "Now, you've been here for only a week, but it seems like you already know what makes this place tick...unlike Mr. Giardi." She made a face. "I think Mr.Giardi still needs some time to heal", I told her emphasizing traces of kindness left in my firm yet understanding voice. "After all, he did catch his wife having sex with a-" "I don't think I want to hear Mrs. Giardi's pansexuality again", she said shivering. "But perhaps your right. If more people had mind like yours, Ms. Dawson, then maybe this city could actually rise up towards the economic crisis." "Oh shucks, Mrs. Danderburg!", I smiled at her. She smiled back. “Well, I guess I better be going then”, she started to walk. “Take care of this place, Elizabeth.” “Will do, Ms.Danderburg”, I flashed my smile at her once again. “Ta-ta!”, she waved her tiny right hand, and walked away. Away from the rows and rows of welcoming books and into the sunny yet apprehensive world. “Ta-ta”, I said a little softly. I could feel the ultra sweetness of the scene bleeding out from my ears. But like what my father always says,”Be more, please more”. If I want to get out of this dead end city and set my sights on the bigger stuff, I have to go right to the big people, and play devil's advocate for them.
I set my backpack down the table, and looked around my environment. I could see two people in the Horror section, one old lady in the Periodicals section, and some young guy in the Children's section. Oh, and the usual staff: Brundle, sleeping inside the Photocopy corner and Mr.Alexis, sorting out the law books and medical journals upstairs. Hmm, not really crowded, but hey the usual. I took out a book from the 'Reserved' shelf, sat down, and began to read. “The Laws of Astrophysics”. I have to admit that I am a bit slow in terms of astronomical subjects. It's just not something that interests me. I guess my dad just made me focus on literature so much that I forgot all about science. But hey, that's why God invented books.
“At first, only empirical rules are discovered, such as Kelper's Laws of Planetary Motion, discovered at the start of the 17th century. Later that century, Isaac Newton bridged the gap between Kepler's laws and Galileo's dynamics, discovering that the same laws that rule the dynamics of objects on Earth rule the motion of planetsand-”
“Excuse me”, a voice echoed out. I plunged myself out of the astrophysics universe, and faced my intruder. Outside the librarian's corner stood the old lady who was looking around the Periodicals section. She held an ancient looking magazine, with some typical 50's Marilyn Monroe stereotype model as the front cover picture. “Yes, how may I help you, ma'am?”, I asked politely, expertly and cleverly hiding my sense of annoyance."I was just wondering how much this magazine cost, dearie?", the old hat asked, her voice cracking with dust. Are you kidding me!? "Err, ma'am, this is a library, not a bookstore", I said a little more polite than what was necessary. "Yes, yes, I see that, so does 50 pesos cover it?", asked the old lady, clearly not listening to a single word that I said. Self-control, Liz. Self-control. "Ma'am", I said with a little firmly this time around."This is not a bookstore.This is a library. You can only read periodicals here, not claim them as your property. However, you can get a xerox copy of the magazine. There's a fellow named Brundle over there who would be more than happy to assist you." I pointed to the photocopy section where Sleepyhead Brundle still lay his head down the expensive-looking xerox machine. "I see", the old lady said softly. "Well, thank you for your time." "My pleasure", I lied. She then walked away to dear Brundle's loving sleepy arms.Good luck, Brundle. I turned my attention back to my book.
To my great displeasure, I encounter a lot of people like the old clueless lady in the library. Much unfortunate to say is that I encounter them everyday. But to mark the most special ones, let's see, day two of my summer employment, a dungy looking college student asked if the papers in the books could be teared up for "natural purposes". Day five,
a man with an aura of a preschool kid asked if he could borrow the books in the library. And now, day seven, the old dingbat who couldn't tell the difference between a library and National Bookstore. I laid my head down, and attempted to absorb myself once more with the book.
"-the moon. Celestial mechanics, the application of Newtonian gravity and Newton's laws to explain Kepler's laws of planetary motion, was the first unification of astronomy and-"
"Excuse me".The girl tore her eyes off the book and looked at me. Is it me or did I just hear a growl? "Yes?", the girl asked, her teeth clenched. I felt a bit nervous to speak. This is why I hate going to libraries, offices, principal's offices and other places where stuffy people lie inside, waiting for their next prey. It's like they're waiting to tear their claws at my neck. I heard a stutter coming out of my mouth. "Yes?", the girl repeat, a little more loudly this time. Shit, this girl is tighter than Mrs. Crabsapple, the old lady next door to my house, which is saying much since Mrs. Crabsapple once threw her cat to a bunch of kids in Halloween. She's been in prison ever since.
I put the book that I was holding on the table. The girl held and looked at it."Through the Looking-Glass", she said. "Tweedledum, Tweedledee", she added, and surprisingly made a grin. Alas, she has a soul. "Err...excuse me?", I asked without thinking. She looked at me back, put the book down, and returned to her old business-like self. "Nothing, just characters in the book", she said in a hurried tone. "Good choice.I reckon you read this book when you were a little kid?" "Err..no", I replied. This is looking more and more like a job interview at the Pryce Building. "Just curious, that's all." "It's a wonderful book", she said earnestly (or i think it was earnest)."It's a perfect sequel to Alice in Wonderland though I don't really call it a sequel, it's more like a...retelling or some sort." "Err, yeah", I said smiling awkwardly. "You're gonna love it, make sure you read the part about The Walrus and the Carpenter.Ooh, and also Jabberwocky". "Right". She gazed at me, feeling myself being x-rayed...not the hot kind. I know that look she was giving me right now. I can't count the many times people gave that look to me, particularly the teachers at my high school. Clear as day. You have no idea what I'm saying, do you? It felt like she stared at me for like a century, so I was more than thankful that she finally tear off her yuppie-like eyes off me, and continued to strut about like her other predecessors.
"Well", she began."I hope"-she pulled out a big old-fashioned stamp underneath the table-"you'll have"- she opened the back cover of the book-"a nice time"-she plunged the stamp at the gray paper glued at the last page-"at"-she closed the book and handed it to me-"Wonderland". I looked at her a bit mindlessly, thinking what to do next, then I quickly took the book. "Have a nice day", she smiled at me, but underneath her smile she sent a clear message: "Get the fuck out". I'm more than happy to. I turned around, and walked to the big old-fashioned door, and the moment I stepped out of the library, the sun pretty much made a shit on my face by shining its beams directly at me. I squinted, climbed down the stone steps, and walked to the sidewalk on my left. I could feel my poor posture slumping back on its old place -my shoulders crouching like The Hunchback of Notre Dame. As the sun's warmth surronded my ever so passive brain, random thoughts just took over. So what next, Jimbo? I have no friggin idea. Eat at McDougalls, maybe. Two weeks down, six more weeks to go, Jimbo, that's a reeallly long time. No shit, Sherlock.
I flagged over a passing jeep, and got in. I sat beside a grimy-looking old man who carried a strong smell of gasoline. Awesome. I took out my iPod Touch from my pocket, placed a pair of headphones in my ears, and played a Doves song.
"Out of here
We're out of here
Out of heartache
Along with fear
There goes the fear again
"What's you playin'?", asked the gasoline man abruptly. I could feel his greasemonkey eyes looking at me. I ignored him. "What's you playin'?", the guy repeated a little loudly this time. I tiptapped a little, and scanned my iPod Touch. "Jackass", the man muttered. Screw you, I thought. Nice retaliation, Jimbo. Real nice. Fuck you.
The jeep rode on for five blocks until I signalled it to stopped. I handed out some coins, and gout. I could feel the old greasemonkey still looking at me as he and the jeep rode away. I looked around saw that I was at the old moviehouses that used to show nudie flicks. Now they're just abandoned buildings with faded paint and perfect habitats for ghosts and hobos everywhere.I walked to my right, and stopped right in front of a cheesy looking fast food joint, with a signboard of a mutated smiling banana and orange on top of the roof. I went inside. The inside reflected the outside completely. Loads of pictures involving the banana and orange are plastered all over the walls, the walls and the ceiling are covered with stripes of yellow and orange paint, the floor is covered with yellow and orange tiles. The cashiers,waiters, and busboys were in banana and orange suits, which clearly degraded their human dignity to a significant level. I walked up to the cashier counter. A 20 something guy in a banana suit greeted me with a sense of dullness.Clearly been up partying with the oranges."Welcome to McDougalls, may I take your order?" 'Err...one big breakfast meal please", I said. Yes folks, even I stutter around people who dressed themselves as fruits. "Cut the bananas, just the orange." . The cashier pressed some buttons on the register, until the price showed up at the small monitor."87 pesos,sir." I reached my wallet from my back pocket, and it fell down, scattering coins everywhere. "Shit", I said quietly. I quickly crouched and awkwardly started getting the coins back in the wallet. I could feel the cashier guy watching me. I hurried up, stood up, took out a hundred peso bill from the wallet and placed it on the counter. The guy took it, placed it inside the register, and said "Wait a moment, sir." I looked around, and saw that the only customers were two guys in biking gear eating a couple of fries, chattering excitedly about their recent biking adventure, and a couple of high school kids (not from my school, I think) talking and guffawing loudly about some hilarious thing that happened to them last night. I wanted to snort loudly. "Here you are, sir". The cashier guy placed a tray with a plate of a nice juicy burger patty, scrambled eggs, garlic rice, and a pair of fresh oranges inside. I nodded the guy in thanks, but of course, he wouldn't give a crap about thanks, and then I took the tray and sat down in the table with farthest distance of the two parties, and began to eat. As I chewed on a big chunk of patty in my mouth, at the corner of my eye, I could see that a guy at the high school kids table pointing a finger at me, said something to his friends, and all of them laughed loudly. I tried not to look at them, and focused on my food. Wished that you didn't go to Health-Hazard Diner now, do you? You think?! How come you didn't just go to the park or go to one of your friends' houses? The park's a fucking dud-dome, and I would go to their houses if I was more close to them. Wait a minute, that's right, you don't have friends, do you, Jimbo? I do have friends, thank you very much. But they're just passerbys, I know that and you know that. They won't even give a single crap if you got crashed by a Hummer or even a SmartCar, for Christ's sake.Neither would they for you, fucker. That's because I'm inside your mind, dumbass.
I quickly finished my meal, and got out fast. It was getting hotter by the hour, so there was nothing much to do than go home, and face my beloved family: Dad, the hard-working architect who always overworks every Monday and Wednesday nights; Mom, the efficient accountant who always takes Tuesday and Thursday nights to get her accounts done; Wendy, my bitch twin sister, most likely up in her room with her similarly annoying friends, talking about "hot boys","makeups",and worst of all ,"school". It's Monday morning, so mom and dad are out of the house which means I'm stuck with Wendy and the crew at the house for the whole day. Oh well, here's hoping that she's out of the house too, giving blowjobs to some hot jock or whatever.
I signalled a jeep, got in, and after six more blocks, I got out. I was at Cherybl Street, near the Austens' house. Mrs. Austen is one of my mother's bestfriends, and...fuck, she's hot. All those times I've been inside that house (while being accompanied by my mom, of course), all I could think about is Mrs. Austen's perfect breasts, just bouncing around (and unfortunately sagging sometimes too) in front of me as she laughs while my mom tells her stories about the business transaction she and this other accountant named Travis had the night before. Wish I could say the same to her daughter, but Mary Austen is the current president of the Chess club, so need to say much?
I snooped around a bit, looking through the windows, trying to see if Mrs. Austen is at the kitchen, washing the dishes. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to be in the house, so I walked away,disappointed, until I reached my house. One of the things I like being a Wittington is that I have a lot of rich relatives. Not to say that my parents' aren't rich, they are, but not in the level of fortune as having goldmines around the province kind of rich. But at least my parents were able to buy our house, which is actually pretty nice. The dining room and the living room are huge, we got about two guest rooms, an attic (though we rarely go inside it much, since it's pretty much insect-infested), and this neat pool outside the backyard.
I went inside. I could hear a distant mixture of chattering and giggling upstairs. I sighed. Great, my great twin sister is here along with her rodents. I climbed upstairs (loudly as I could, even if they won't give a damn). The one thing I don't like about our house, however, is that Wendy's room and mine are next-door neighbors. Our walls, unfortunately, are far from soundproof so everytime one twin's music overcomes the other twin's music, we massacre each other. And it's such a pain in the butt that Wendy ALWAYS leaves her door open, and I can always hear snippets of her cheesy boyband pop songs and a glimpse of her room's violently pink wallpaper. My door, on the other hand, is always locked, and even has a "Do Not Disturb" sign posted on the door. I pulled out my wallet, got the key out from it, unlocked the door, and locked myself inside, while thinking to myself:Two weeks down, six weeks to go, Jimbo, and that's a reeaallly long time...
"What was that?", startled Jean. "Probably my brother", I said without looking up. "Does that all the time". My eyes were completely focused on my phone. My pretty pink fingernails were shining gleamly from the sunlight outside, and they were completely busy tapping the keys on my cellphone:
" Good morning, fabulousness!
O.M.G. Guess what? Jean and Krishna are here! Guys and gals, you are MORE than welcome to join us. Just head over to #48 Davenport Street. See you later!
I specifically added Jeremy Biggins, Alice Morndof, Denny Marshall, Krissy Munchkins, and Charlotte Piggins. I got Charlotte's number yesterday (thanks to our beloved source, Ginger Reyes), and I'm fully prepared to give her my introductions once she replies.
Jeremy,Alice,Denny, and Krissy only texted me once or twice (usually has the phrases"Who's this?" and "Where did you get this number?" within it). I hit the red key, and the menu sprung up, showing a picture of me and Jean, making funny yet pretty faces ,as my wallpaper. I keypad locked it and placed it gently on the surface of the bed. I rose up my legs and moved it back and forth repeatedly, and also with my knuckles placed on my cheeks. "All done!", I said brightly. "Fabulous, girlfriend!", replied Jean,still busy painting her toenails. She was squatting on my pink carpet floor, while Krishna was busy with Facebook in my computer. The summer heat reached the insides of my room, causing its warmth to make me feel dazy and stupid "I will so totally freak out if Charlotte answers", I said dazily. "I know,me too", said Jean."You can thank me again for getting you hooked up with Ginger, by the way." "You had the number, I had the effort", I stuck my tongue at her. She gave me the finger, and we both giggled.
Jean's very very fabulous. We've known each other since the second month of Freshman Year, when she offered me a seat in the canteen. She has a pretty vivacious attitude, and can sometimes be a teensy bit demanding, but she's still a fabulous gal. Krishna, on our other table, is fabulous, I guess. She's an exchange student from India, and she's pretty conservative, which means she NEVER takes off that choli of hers. It's a bit distracting, but she gossips like a cow (a pretty cow, I meant), which makes her at least fun to be with.
I lay down at my bed, gazing at the white ceiling above me."Oh gosh, I could remember the times when I soo wanted to be her bestfriend back in Freshman Year", I said dreamily, like I just fell down in the rabbit hole. "She's sooo pretty and not to mention that she has the most fabulous Gucci handbag known to womankind".
I wasn't lying. I could still remember my first day in high school, and while I was at the hallway, getting eyed on by older high schoolers already thanks to my fabulous hairdo and the heavy mascara that I wore, she just walked in the door, with her long hair getting blown from the windy air outside. The air surprisingly didn't mess up her hair, but in fact, it gave her a much more dramatic entrace, like those girls you see in the Pantene commercials. It was clear from that moment on that Charlotte Piggins is going to be one of Pebblecreek High's most popular freshman students that year. And she was. Last school year, half of the popular kids eat with her, and they all seem to be having the time of their lives, laughing,giggling and chattering. I sometimes have these little fantasies where I'm sitting with them, laughing and chattering as well, while trying to be swooned over by Jeremy Biggins, the very very hot Junior soccer varsity player. I have to admit, it was pretty hard that the only text Jeremy ever gave me was "Who gave you my number?", but he never saw me, and there's always this thing called "love at first sight". Or maybe he's crushing on me as well, and we've been trying to find the courage to introduce ourselves to each other. Maybe he was too shy to reply me back since he knew that I was the one who was texting him, and he couldn't think of anything cool enough to say to me. And everybody's just cheering on for us to get together. Oh the possibilities!
"Oh you can have Charlotte, kiss her if you like", Krishna piped up laughing. Jean giggled. Still feeling a bit stupid, I grabbed my pillow from my bed and hit Krishna playfully. "Hey!" Krishna reacted, still laughing. "That's for calling me a lesbo,like Eloise Danford", I muttered amusingly. "Speaking of which, is now I heard has a girlfriend". Krishna stopped typing, and Jean almost dropped her brush. They looked totally shocked, as in "O.O" shocked. "O...M...G...", Jean laughed a little. "Yeah, very OMG", laughed Krishna as well. "Who's the lucky thing, I mean 'girl'?" I threw the pillow back to my bed, put my right hand on my hip, strutted a bit, and teased "Not gonna tell you".
"Come on, Wendy!", Krishna pleaded. "That's for telling me that I'm a dike", I stuck my tongue to both of them. "Never again, pwomise with all my weart", Krishna crossed her heart. "Come on Wendy, you know you want to tell us", Jean egged on. I stifled a giggle, and said "All right. It's Susan Croxley." Krishna gasped in shock and delight, while Jean said "Figures. How'd you figure it out, Wends?" "Saw them", I replied, very pleased with myself. "Making out in one of the stalls in the girl's bathroom in the girl's room at the mall. Very sloppy work, if you ask me." Krishna etched in disgust.
I jumped back to my bed, and began to feel a bit sleepy. Sweat was trickling down my forehead. "But seriously though", I began."All the hell with Charlotte, but Jeremy Biggins is maahhnn".
"Fuck Jeremy Biggins", said Jean (Krishna giggled in surprise)."There's only one man for me.Two words, ladies: Mark Silverman". Me and Krishna giggled. "Good choice", I nodded in approval. "Very good choice", Krishna added. "I'd so tap his ass." "Krishna!", I laughed in surprise.
We've spent the next two hours just staying in the room, waiting for the heat to settle down. Jean finished manicuring her nails a long time ago, and started looking and fixing herself up in the mirror. Krishna was chatting with Katy Jennings, another social spy. I looked at my cellphone again. No messages. I threw it back.
"So, what should we do now?", asked Jean, still occupied with her looks. "You got me", I said. "Maybe eat some lunch, I guess? We have some bread in the kitchen, maybe cook up a fabby peanut butter and jelly sandwich." "Eww, no", Jean said. "How about sushi and salad? You have those, Wends?"
"Nope, mom forgot to buy groceries".
"OMG", Krishna interrupted. She then typed faster than she did before. She's unusally quick on typing. Maybe Indians are just really good at handwork or something.
"What's up?", I asked. Krishna looked at us, and said "Some of the p-kids are at the park now. The p-boys are playing basketball, most notably"-she looked specifically at Jean at this one-"Mark Silverman". Jean grinned, and said," Well gals, turns out we got something to do today, after all. Let's get out of here, come on,go." Krishna quickly logged out of Facebook, and turned off the computer. Then the both of them started getting their scattered belongings. "Where's my lipstick-", Krishna began."-oh there it is". "Better hurry up, Krishy", said Jean, doing finishing touches to her hair and admiring the effect."We don't want Mark to be kept waiting". "In your dreams, Jean", I laughed. Jean winked at me. "How do I look?" "Absolutely pretty", I grinned. "Got everything you need, Krishy?", asked Jean again. Krishna got her purse (and trying not to crumple her choli cloth) and said,"Yup". "Then come on, let's make the F-girls salute". We formed a little circle, put our right hands together like those kids who decide the "It" in "Tag, You're It". We chanted,"One,two,three,FABULOUS!!!!!" We raised our hands up high, then placed them on our hip, and strutted out of the room. Thank god that I dressed myself up before Jean and Krishna got here a while ago, or else, I would have never shown my unpampered face out in the open world.
We called for a cab (as if we're going in a jeep, eww.) and got out of it when we reached the Montgomery Park. The sun was hotter than ever, but thank god that we wore hats. The park's big, with a big fishing pond on one side, a basketball and volleyball court on the other hand, with tons of people going for a picnic, playing chess, playing catch, buying food from the hot dog stand, or just showing off. Of course, those who showed off DEFINITELY had no style to show it. They were disgusting. Example, a girl can be seen walking inside beside us. The girl wore a fabulous Versace outfit, but she walked like a sinking boat, floating left and right, and waiting to get stumbled by an iceberg. Disgusting. It didn't take us long to find the A-kids. They practically looked like they owned the basketball court, and not in a bad way at all. The A-girls were sitting on the benches, chattering and giggling, while the A-boys were already playing basketball, with sweat glistening from their bare arms. Jean,Krishna, and me looked like we were about to faint. We were walking towards the court, but some big muscular guy told us that the court is for a private party at the moment, which explains why there were a lot of people outside the court, with their hands clenched on the metal net, looking hungrily at the A-kids. We had no choice, but to reside with the other people as well, and watch the A-kids go about their fabulous routine.
The ball was on me. I tried not to think of the sweat glistening and trickling on my skin, or the fact that the summer heat getting my tongue dried-up and dehydrated. Ronald was coming for me straight ahead, and the hoop was just meters away. I quickly dodged him, and shot the ball on the hoop, gaining myself a very very easy three-pointer. I could hear Charlotte and the other hot chicks cheering for me. Jared clapped a hand on my back. "Nice one, Mark", he said. I flashed a grin. "You got that one easy, Silverman", teased Ronald. "Up yours, Krasinski", I called back. I looked around, and saw that there were people lining up outside the court, observing the game. Too bad all of them were nearly butt ugly. I jogged towards the bleachers and turned my attention to Charlotte, my new girlfriend for five days now. She wiped off the sweat on my body with a white towelette. I pulled back my straight brown hair, brushing some sweat off of it. She threw away the towelette, wrapped her perfect tan arms around my neck, and kissed me. I opened my mouth, and slid my tongue inside hers.
I could hear a couple of frantic noises from outside. I stopped kissing her, and looked around. There were a couple of girls pointing at us, looking like they're about to freak. "Social mongers", Charlotte groaned. "From school".
"Anyway, nice job out there, baby". "Nah, Ronald just really sucked", I said, grinning. "I heard that", said a passingby Ronald, who approached the bleachers and got out a bottle of Gatorade from his duffel bag. "I know", I chuckled. I looked around again. Tommy, Axel, and Ross were still on the court, laughing about something amusing. Steve was at the bleachers (texting something on his cellphone), Jared was pretty much skinfucking Jordana on the bleachers above us, Ronald was drinking some Gatorade off his bottle while Darwaina was talking something to him, and Denver was joking around Marcela and Raquel. "So what's going on back here?", I asked Charlotte, while my suave hands moved around her hips. Charlotte giggled and replied,"Nothing much. Me and the gals were just talking about what to do tonight. Any plans?" "Well, I guess maybe you and me can go somewhere...Pine's Creek maybe...maybe get on a little romantic music, under the moonlight?" Charlotte giggled. "I'll think about it", she winked. Good, because this better get me laid already.
Let me give you a little background about Charlotte: She pretty much has one of the most beautiful girls in Pebblecreek High, and I'm talking about beautiful in every places. Yet, it dosen't erase the fact that Charlotte is raised by couple of over-religious dickheads that mindwarped Charlotte into chastity. So, all those nights where I sneak inside Charlotte's bedroom, making out with her on her bed, we only reached first-base. NEVER second-base. Which, aka, makes the possibiity of third-base pretty much impossible, unless Charlotte's bipolar. God, I hope she's bipolar.
She crumpled my brown hair, and reached out again to kiss me, but we were sorely interrupted by Ronald,who got out of Darwaina's reach, and snuck out between me and Charlotte.
"Yo Mark, I'm fucking hungry", Ronald said. "Wanna grab some hotdogs?" "Uh, sure", I said. I quickly kissed Charlotte on the lips, and said "Be back in a bit, babe", and took off with Ronald. Jeremy, Jordana's butler, let us out. I could feel some eyes following me as me and Ronald walked away the court. If only they had any looks, then I would so bang them till they're dry. The sun ached on our backs, and I could feel sweat glistening down my forehead again. On the other hand, the park seems to have a big turn out today. Lots of bratty kids running around. I could see some people from school talking around with their other buds. Almost all of them waved at me, to which I wave back. The hot dog stand wasn't too far from the court, but it was near the pond, with all the people walking back and forth on the bridge between it.
"So you think we got the team worked out already for next year?", Ronald asked. "Yeah, but shit man, we have to practice waayyy more", I replied."As in every fucking day". "Oh come on, man", he sneered. "We all know you're gonna get in the varsity. Your dad's the fucking basketball coach!" "Dosen't mean he's not uptight about it though", I said. Ronald snorted.
I wasn't kidding. Dad really is batshit when it comes to basketball practice. His everlasting motto was "If you don't suffer, then you better on just put on a dress and get castrated".Ever since the beginning of time, dad started making me play basketball. When I was three, he got me this tiny cheap Taiwan-made basketball set. He said I rarely missed a shot. Now, he's getting me prepared to get in the varsity team next school year by making me wake up at 4am, jog two miles, drink freakin' egg whites, and basketball practice at the backyard for three hours. Three more hours in the afternoon after a brief break. Told you, batshit crazy.
"So, how many slots are empty for next year?", he asked. "Four slots. Mayers, Bell, Richards, and Hume graduated a month ago. Wait, Richards didn't, he's in jail after he went apeshit on the guidance counselor". I didn't have any difficulty at all at remembering this .Anything that is even remotely related to basketball, dad says it and repeats it to me over and over again until I got the fucking information welded in my brain. I even know who was the inventor of the basketball.
Ronald turned his head to me, and asked again repeatedly and endlessly,"So out of the seven of us, who's gonna make the cut?" "Me, obviously", I said without even thinking about it."Then, Jared maybe, you, and Ross". "You might as well cut Ross off", he said. "The guy can't block for his life". Neither can you, cumfuck, I thought. Ronald could barely even score a three pointer, even if he's at the perfect spot for shooting. "Yeah, yeah".
"So-", he began again, and then I punched him hard on the shoulder. "Ow!", Ronald exclaimed. "What the fuck did you do that for?!" "If you keep pestering me again, I swear to God I'll shove this up your ass", I said, while raising my fist high. Ronald fell silent and kept walking. I grinned. Man, I love playing with everybody. It's like they were born to be tied around my middle finger. The chicks, I mean. The dudes can tie themselves on my ring or index finger for all I fucking care.
We reached the hotdog van, where there was a very very small pile of line going on. Behind the college couple who were already at the cart ordering was a a skinny nineteen year old guy with dimples spreaded all over his miniscule face. The couple got their food and left, and right when Skinny McDimples was about to head, I shoved him out, and faced the vendor. Sixteen, nice tits, gorgeous smile, short hippie brown hair. I like.
"Hey what the fuck did you do that for?", complained the skinny guy. "Get lost, asshole", I told him, with Ronald nodding in approval. Muttering, the guy walked away. I turned my head back to Ms. Hotdog Lover. She smiled at me and asked,"What are we having?". "Two hotdogs and a large Coke", said Ronald. She turned to the oven behind her, showing her glorious ass. Ronald punched me on the shoulder, snickering. "Bet I can tell how many hotdogs I can put in that thang", I said, and he snickered louder. Ms. Hotdog Lover came back, giving us our food. "Anything else?", she asked. "Yeah, your number", I winked at her. Ronald guffawed. She smiled. "No thanks, I don't date Freshmens". "Wait honey, let me stop you right there. First, I'm going to be a Sophomore, and second, well at least tell me your name", I said. "A beautiful girl like you is bound to have a vivacious and beautiful name". She giggled, and said "Bye guys.Next!". I winked at her We left, giving way to skinny college guy who was right behind us. We laughed at him before we head straight back to the basketball court. "I am so getting some ass", I smirked. "Yeah right, in your fucking dreams, man", Ronald laughed. "Wanna bet?" "She's a Senior", he sneered. "You're a Sophomore, so yeah, in your dreams." "We'll see about that man". "Indeed we fucking shall". We got back inside, with Jeremy flashing us a thumbs up while we got in. There wasn't much people left outside, yet the giggly group of girls were still there. "Come on guys, let's go, game time!" The other guys went back in (Jordana was withdrawing her hand from Jared's pocket), and we all formed in. 3..2...1...."Game time!", I yelled, and the game commenced.
April 22, 2010
There's three type of sounds in the world that I absolutely love. First is the hard crunch of a big Hersheys bar getting broken in half, second is the nice healthy sound of a basketball getting bounced again and again, and the third is the loud moans of a nice young girl being fucked, gasping for her dear life . Play me soundclips of the three on my funeral, and I'll die a happy man.
I must have been shittingly been really good to God lately, because now all I can hear is:
"OOHH YESSSS!!!! YESSSS!!!!YESSS!!!! OH MY GOD, YESSS!!!! FUCK, OHHH, YESSSS!"
She gasped for breath, and clinged her nice tan arms around my back. I could feel her shirt rubbing against mine. I pushed and pushed with fuckin' ease.
"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SO GOOD, OH GOD, OH GOD, YES!!!"
All was well, till...KNOCK!KNOCK!KNOCK!
"Is someone inside there? Hello, we want some food here!", said a voice outside the van. The metal covering the window kept thudding and thudding. She gasped and groaned, and started to get up. I tried to pull her back down.
"Oh come on, baby, ignore that dipshit!"
"I can't!", she giggled, straightening her shirt out. She crouched to find her panties and cut-off shorts, exposing her glorious moonshine to my eyes. "Sure you can!", I groaned but in a nice cool way. "No, Mark, I got to get them hotdogs", she replied, clutching her panties and putting them on. "You can have my hotdog if you want", I winked at her. She laughed. "You ass", she said. "You have to go,by the way, you can't be seen with me here, I'll get fired", she added, while she put her skirt. I was reminded that I was still sitting on the floor with no underwear and pants on. "Oh come on, Lauren", I groaned. "Can't I just stay here, take care of the dipshits, and after that, let's get back to business?" I winked. KNOCK!KNOCK!KNOCK! "HELLO!???Anybody there!?" "I'm coming, I'm coming already! God!" Lauren shouted. She turned back to me. "And this is why I don't date Sophomores". "Alright, fine, fine, I'm going", I said. I reached for my boxers and pants, and put them on quickly. I tried to find my shoes. "Now where are those-", Lauren kicked the shoes on to me. "Thanks", I said, and put them on. Lauren clutched the handle of the metal window, while I opened the door outisde, but before I opened it, she said to me,"Call me tonight, okay?", while wearing a flashy grin. "Always, babe", I replied sweetly, and I rushed outside, at the same time as she opened the metal window, exposing her face to the grouchy customers outside. Thanks to the dark environment the hotdog van has provided me earlier, the summer sun came on my face like a slap on the wrist. I squinted a bit and kept moving.
The park was crowded as ever. All I could hear was laughter and some wails coming from the little brats and angry tones from the people who came with the little brats. I could remember the old days were I was, believe it or not, was one of those little brats who cried for a Happy Meal, played some Optimus Prime action figures, slingshot the incoming dogs passing by my house, and shot their first jizz on their older sister's orange juice (and little did those older sisters know what that faint salty taste was all about). I could still remember the time where my dad took me to the park to play with this small basketball he got for me the day before that. I treated that ball like my two own. I bounced it a lot with such glee and enjoyment. I could still remember the grass staining that ball, the way that ball would crawl up just about anywhere, from a family's picnic blanket to a grouchy bulldog's mouth. I could also still remember the time that I accidentally swung that ball so hard that it hit my dad's nards.Hard. That earned me an ass-whooping, but that's just one of those times when you look back at your childhood, and you just can't help but laugh about all the shit you've been through, even if you weren't that entertained yourself when you were still living in those moments.
While my Nike shoes scraped along the grass, I looked back, and saw that there was an old fat man waiting impatiently outside the hotdog fan. I recalled what Lauren last said to me..."Call me tonight, okay?" As if.
You see, the thing about girls is that they're like iPods. They're shiny, they're high-tech, they're fun to use. But the thing is, there's always a new iPod that comes out every few months. So of course, you're tempted to get that new iPod. But what about that old iPod you've been using? Well, do the best thing for it...sell it. I'm not saying that you should get girls into sex trafficking, no (that's pretty much the worst thing that you can do, other than breaking up with them saying that "they're not the one"), what I'm saying is that girls are fragile. God never meant for men to hook up with only one woman. Why'd you think He created Adam first? So that Adam can explore the things in the world...that is, before he met that bitch Eve (who if it wasn't for her, girls would be walking around ass-naked today, but that's just me). God meant life as an adventure, not an immediate commitment. Go ahead,do the next best thing, that's what God intended us to do. And those old girls? They're really better off without you, believe me. Let them find some guy who finally got himself tired of adventure, that's the only way they can be happy, and that happiness my friend, cannot be found in you unless you're over 30. Plus, here's another big part, because of you, they'll be more experienced in our gruesome world today, and thus, they'll be more prepared next time. You're doing them a big favor by not being with them or calling them, really. For all I know Lauren the hotdog girl could hook up with a dude named Brent, a guy who sells bread. Perfect ending,right? And in the meantime, I have to find myself a new girl to teach...if you get my drift.
I turned my head back, and left the park.
May 4, 2010
It seems that I have not introduced myself earlier. Oh well, it's never too late, isn't it? Let me begin...
Hello, my name is Elizabeth Dawson. I just turned 14 years old last February, and life couldn't be better...this summer. I love reading Ann Radcliffe's novels (A Sicilian Romance is one of my most favorite novels of all time), though I do have a soft spot for William Shakespeare as well (To be or not to be, yeah?), I love pasta,most especially puttanesca (with its few ingredients, how could you NOT love it?), and I love being an active participant towards school activities, such as helping coordinate some school presentations like the high school musicals, the assemblies, the crowd control, etc. It dosen't stop there; I love joining school organizations as well. I'm a very very active participant in the Pebblecreek Debate Society, and I'm well proud of it. I find that why I'm such a fantastic debater is that unlike some of my fellow comrades, I read the news headlines the moment after I get out of bed, and log in to the internet. From global financial crisis to Iraqi terrorism, I glee over them all, anything to get me prepared, anything to show my fellow debaters that I'm not "just like them", that I'm somebody much more than that, somebody who can make such an impact to the world, somebody like ME. I mean, if I was never accepted on the team last year, that numbskull Joss Leverman would still be blubbering and stuttering over that one simple question in the contest (just because he's a Muslim dosen't mean he can't answer "How can Christians profess their loyalty to Christianity more in control?".I mean come on, a ten year old Buddhist illiterate boy from Taiwan could even answer that, for crying out loud), hence, our team would had never won the Provincial Debate Stand-off last March.
Once, someone almost asked me,"Liz, how did you become such a strong and determined young woman?" Well, the answer isn't just hours and hours of poring over books and food deprivation, but the most important factor on how to become somebody as successful as me is to have striving and clever parents, like I do. When you have parents who are smart enough to know that just because you wish for your kids to grow up well dosen't mean that they will just because you said it, this means you have good parents. Your parents have to really get you into studying, even if in the means of torture, if you want to go somewhere. My dad, fortunately enough, isn't afraid to do that. Speaking of which, has anybody of you know the name Mr. Richard Dawson? Well if you were schooling at Pebblecreek High, you would recognize that name perfectly well. Richard Dawson, or my dad, is an English teacher for high school juniors, and let's just say he has a certain reputation for the art. Few ever pass his class, which caused for the significant downward slope of high school graduates in Pebblecreek High since 2004. But hey, nobody (except for dimwits) can say that it's unfair, I mean they're put into school for a reason: to learn, to gain a more educated view towards life and acquire a good job thanks to what you've learned, not to meet people and do drugs with them. He's truly an educated fellow, my dad.
But of course, when you're an educated fellow, it is very inevitable to have educated friends as well, and most of the time, these educated friends of his have sons, which brings to my predicament today.
"Mmm, this is soo good", said Daly as he ate a piece of crab cake. I smiled at him kindly, and he smiled at me back. Daly is the son of Mr. Rogers, one of my dad's old college buddies. Mr. Rogers is the CEO of a logging company down in Morryland, which of course makes him a very wealthy man. Daly goes to Pebblecreek High with me as well. He's what other kids in the student bodies call, a preppy. He almost always wears a sweater with a polo tucked under it, and he always combs his brown hair every five minutes,emphasizing and making his elite status more visible for everyone to see.He's also in the Debate Society with me. This dosen't make Daly as successful as his father. Daly has a reputation to be, well...stupid. Not stupid as in Woody Harrelson stupid, no. He's just....trying to look smart, I mean in every debate session, he always picks up an issue like the recent stock market downfall, and he raves on about it, but the thing is that he never gets the full gist of what he's saying. Here's an example: one time in debate session, our topic was if Martial Law ever was ruled again in the country, and if we have the power overrule it, would we or would we not? And you know what he said? He was on the anti-Martial Law team, and all he said was that we shouldn't rule it again because it will make everybody miserable. When our club moderator (Ms. Wilkins, a friendly Literature teacher with the knack to ask questions a lot) asks him to elaborate, all he could for two whole minutes is (and I'm not joking about this): "Ummm...eerrr...because...umm...it really bad, since...uhhh...people didn't like it back then...and umm...people died...and...uhh..." and then picks his confidence back again, and repeats almost the same thing he said before, until the timer went right out, causing me (on the pro-Martial Law team) to start my speech giving out specific but well-thought out points on how the rates of peace and order skyrocketed when Martial Law was enstablished in the country, and also giving out the rebuttals on what makes Martial Law bad. Even though our side won, he was still proud on how "clever" he was to reach a loophole and got back up. What loophole!? When was there ever a loophole?! It's all talk with him but he has no idea what he's saying.At.All. But dad has specifically told me that it's best to keep quiet about Daly Rogers'...disadvantage. "We don't want to get Mr. Rogers upset with you, do we?", he once said to me.
So how did I end up in Merope's Restaurant, eating crabcakes, salads, and oyster soup, which all in all, caused a fortune? Well, it's not much a story, really, it's quite simple: I was at the library, keeping record of the returned and borrowed books, and contacted people over the phone to pay their overdues. Thirty minutes before my shift was over, Daly came by, carrying two books (The Importance of Being Earnest and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix). Daly was surprised to see me working on the librarian's desk, and started a small talk with me, ending with an invitation to dinner. How can I not refuse? This will certainly benefit my father's reputation with Mr. Rogers, even if it means eating dinner with a simpleton like Daly. He helped me carry my bag, and here we are, at Merope's Restaurant down at Greenweed Corner, one of the most fanciest places here in Desposition City.
I sipped the remains of the oyster soup, still smiling at Daly. Keep smiling, and your life's gonna be a darling. Daly wiped his mouth with a napkin, and continued eating the crabcake, with a little more control this time, since he's aware that I was watching him. "So-(he coughed lightly)- how was your summer, Liz?", he asked me. I placed my hands down my lap before answering."It's very endearing. I just love working at the library, I get to meet such interesting people (if you think people having intercourse behind bookcases are interesting), and the staff is really helpful too (Brundle?Helpful? Please.), plus I can read all the books I want, which makes me more prepared for the next school year." Daly chuckled. "Still reaching for the top again, I assume, Liz?" I faked a laugh. Reaching for your goals is no laughing matter. It's the only reason why we're still on this planet. "Of course, I can't just abandon my goals, Dale. Dad would be so much unpleased if I did so". "But still, it wouldn't hurt to loosen up a bit, right?" He winked at me. I was in limbo for a while. I don't exactly know how to handle this, since I haven't examined a situation like this that much. So my eyes focused on the empty bowl, laughed a bit, and muttered,"Yeah". Daly seemed to have accepted this response, because he laughed a bit as well, and tightened the two hands he's been holding together a bit. Better take the next topic, Liz, I thought. I cleared my throat."So Dale, how'd you spend your summer?" Daly's eyes lit up a notch, his smile went up more widely, and he leaned a bit more forward. Typical reaction to people like Daly. If you're asking a question about themselves, expect them to be totally enthused by it.
"Well", he started joyfully."I spent the summer at my family ranch down in Heatport. Dad got five more horses and four cattles before I got there.Amazing, Liz. Just amazing. I spent almost the entire summer riding each of those new horses. Of course, my ass hurt like crazy, but it was worth it. Mr. O'Malley, the guy who watches over our ranch while we're gone, he said I'm probably one of the best horseback riders he's met in over ten years. Amazing, right?!"
He was smiling so widely now, that I could swear I could count all those shiny white teeth of his. "Oh yeah", I replied. "Very amazing, yeah". "And that's not all I did", he smirked, adding a little boast to that deep tone of his. And here's the part where I'm supposed to look intrigued on what this simpleton has to say, and gasp like a dim-witted girl to whatever he'll say. And that's what I exactly did. "Oh, what?" He cleared his throat (typical) before he spoke, and he even added a little pause to it for dramatic effect."I met a girl down there". Time to gasp like a hilbilly, Liz. I gasped. "No way!" He laughed, nodded his head, and said,"Yeah, I did. Surprised?" "Yes, very", I said, emphasizing my hilbilly tone more. "Want me to tell the story?", he asked me, still grinning. Does he really need an answer from me? "Please, I'm dying to know, Dale". He started his story:
One hot summer afternoon, while he was riding Geezer, the brown-spotted horse, he noticed that a girl was sitting on the wooden fence, looking at him. He rode on closer, and introduced himself to her. The girl giggled and introduced herself as well. Her name was Darlene, and according to Daly, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Her breasts were a grown woman's, and she was only fifteen. She had long black hair, she was wearing an old-fashioned dress, and there was some speckles of dirt on her face. But Daly didn't care. She was just drop-dead gorgeous. They got to talking, and they repeated this same time, same place, over the next few days. She opened up to him. She was a local girl from Heatport, but she had no idea how to butcher a cow. She was too scared to do it. So, like any other woman in Heatport, she was a milkgirl in her family's farm. She also had a horse, a white female horse named Strawberry ("Though Strawberry was no match for Geezer", added Daly.) Darlene took him to a beautiful waterfall near Kinley, where they had their first kiss. A few days later, Daly sneaked in Darlene's bedroom, and they made love for the first time. All was well, though there was a catch: Darlene already had a suitor. His name was Enis ("An ugly bloke, mind you", grimaced Daly.), and he just absolutely lost it when he saw Daly and Darlene together at the local country fair. Enis and Daly eventually got into a fistfight, which was halted by the local police who were patrolling nearby. Daly's parents went overboard with him when they heard, but it didn't matter to him. He hadn't heard from Darlene for a week now. One dark night, Daly just couldn't take it anymore, and he threw a pebble on Darlene's window. He thought he heard something near him outside that dark spooky farm of Darlene's, but he didn't. He just wanted to see her. Darlene eventually woke up, and opened the window, allowing Daly to come through. Daly was very surprised to see Darlene tear-stricken. Darlene told him that they couldn't see each other anymore. She couldn't take the guilt for being the cause of Daly and Enis' fight, and she didn't want to see the two of them get hurt. Darlene kissed Daly passionately, one last time, and told him to get out. Daly respected her decision, and went about his own business for the next couple of days, riding horses again. The time that the Rogers' got in their fancy Volkswagen and left the ranch, Daly peered back, and saw Darlene looking at him at a distance, sitting on the Rogers' fence like no day passed since the first day they met each other. She waved lightly at him, and he looked away, savouring the moment but yet felt sad about it as well. But Daly knew, that someday, when he'll go back to that ranch of his, Darlene will be waiting for him, and with no Enis around, they can finally be together.
Daly finished the story with a pause. He sighed sadly, and looked at his half-eaten crabcake. He looked absolutely heart-broken. I tried not to snort out with laughter. Honestly, is this the best he can do?! Make up some crockpot story about a guy named ENIS? Excuse me, but as a matter a fact, I definitely know where he's getting at. That Darlene character he kept mentioning? Might as well be some dumb country girl who he's been screwing around for weeks now. Honestly, even a monkey can make up a better love story than THAT. But, I musn't let my guard down. I have to look sorry and I have to look heartbroken for silly Daly. I made a face, and croaked,"Oh my God, Daly, I'm so sorry". Daly cleared his throat (nice intro there, if I may add), and said in a mournful tone,"Yeah, really don't worry about it. But you know what? This just gave me a whole new perspective in life". Perspective to treat people as if they're five year olds?, I thought to myself. "Perspective? On what, Dale?" Daly widened his eyes slightly, showing off a puppy eyes look, and I have to say he does a really nice job of pulling off that look, even if he's one of the guys who probably whipped other guys' buttocks with a towel in the gym shower. He makes a little movement with his left cheek, a dramatic pause, and says quietly,"To appreciate life more". "Huh", I muttered. Why am I beginning to think more and more of the possibility that Daly might be high off marijuana right now? "To appreciate the beauty of what brings me", he continued."To appreciate the beauty of the sun rising up in early morning, on how leaves fall during autumn, to appreciate that every morning when I wake up, I can still walk, I can still talk, I can still feel, you know?" "Yeah", I said, slipping a little confusion out of my voice. Darn it, Liz! How dare you show weakness! Daly seemed to have noticed this little yet unforgivable slip, because he added,"And you know what's the most important thing I've noticed now, Liz?" "No...what?" Another dramatic pause (stop that now, it's getting tiring), and, "The beauty of the people itself. The beauty of everytime they look at me, they smile at me, it just...makes me feel thankful to be human. And I've got you to thank for that, Liz Dawson". Okay, he's definitely high off drugs. "And...why do you say that, Dale?", I asked him, refusing for any slip outs to come through. And the next thing he says...well, let's say that the conversation Dale Simpleton and I were having was getting out of hand. "Because, Liz-", he looked at me fully with those puppy dog eyes of his,"-everytime I look at your magnificent green eyes, you make me feel like every bad thing that I've ever experienced...dosen't matter. As long as I see you and your green eyes, I feel...safe and I feel for the first time in a very long time....comfortable". The ball dropped. I tried not to let my jaw drop open. What am I supposed to say next?! Cheesy and pathetic romantic sayings aren't listed in my strategy! There's no choice. Situations like these need to go for drastic measures. "Um, may I go to the bathroom?", I asked him. His half-grin drooped to an all-time low. "Oh", he said with a mixture of surprise and disappointment."Yeah, sure." "Be right back". He nodded vaguely, and drooped his head down. I got up from the chair and went to the ladies' room.
Like any other fancy restaurants, the restroom in Merope's Restaurant is well-designed. A big seashell is used for the sink, the toilets looks shiny and gray, and there's always the calm music playing through the speakers on the wall. I gripped the sink, and looked at myself in the mirror. My long brown hair was neatly placed with only a few split ends found, my yellow sweater looked tidy with no food stains on them (Thank heavens for that), and eyes barely carry any eyebags. I looked prepared, I looked ready, but inside, am I? I'm getting weighed down by a simpleton. Though to be fair, Daly seemed to really gain a few more tricks up his sleeve this summer, and they do work...if used on another girl who's especially not me. I don't consider Daly as a friend, an acquaintance of course, but never a friend. So why in the world would he think that I would fall over his charms? Does he think I'm stupid? Of course you're not. Then tell me, Liz, why am I here in the restroom, panicking over my strategy? I keep telling myself not to show weakness, so I should stop showing it and start acting like the strong woman that I am. "So keep a calm head Liz", I said. I took a deep breath and exhaled. "Now, start going over some ideas", I said. "You can do this, Liz". Indeed I can. I started going over my choices. Giving him the ugly truth, perhaps? I imagined myself talking straight to a crying Daly. No, I'm going to tarnish dad's reputation if I did that. Maybe say that I acquired a sexually transmitted disease? No, that might cause some rumors at school next school year. So what can I do? I thought over and over again, and let me tell you this: if you keep thinking about a certain scenario over and over again for how many minutes straight, you are bound to get out of that world and hop on to Willy Wonka land. I hate it when that happens. My mind drifted away from the possibility of just running out of the restaurant and never looking back to the restaurant itself. Wow, did they serve good oyster soup. And the crabcakes, my God, they were delicious. I could still imagine chewing that delicious chewy piece, tasting scrambled egg, a few vegetables, and that strong taste of fresh crabs. I wondered what the other customers were having. I mean, Merope's half full now, and I got a glimpse of their orders when I walked down here. I saw a five-man group gorging over a huge plate of turkey, but no crab cake. I saw a man alone drinking ice tea, certainly no crabcake. Wait, of course, a couple sitting behind that man! I definitely saw them eating a crabcake! At least they know the way to eat...but wait. A couple eating a crabcake....me and Daly eating a crabcake....my God, do people think we're a couple!? I hope not. Daly is I guess...bearable, but I certainly can't imagine myself being with him night and day. In fact, I can't imagine anyone with me night and day. Probably my dad, only because he works at the school and we always eat dinner at home after school, but that's of course very different. I guess I'm just the kind of person who's best to operate alone. I mean, the most succesful inventors were most often single. Nobody to distract them with their most important work. Nobody to ask them for money or for curfew. Yes, I guess I'm right.
Wait....couple.Couple.COUPLE! Of course! Why didn't I think of that!? It's so simple, yet I totally forgot about it! Liz, seriously...tsk,tsk,tsk. I really could have slapped myself there, but I can't; my image must be kept presentable and charming. I smiled at myself. Good, good, Liz is back. I took out my cellphone, and walked out of the door.
Daly jerked his head at my direction, and once again, his puppy dog eyes returned. Good, good, two can play at this game, Rogers. I pretended to look distracted, and sat down. "You took a while", Daly said. I touched the keypads on my cellphone and pretended to be busy texting. "Yeah, I'm sorry", I apologized to him. "Andrew's been calling me like crazy that I just can't ignore it". For the first time, Daly looked like he was a bit caught off-guard. Yes! "Wait...Andrew?", he said. "Who's Andrew?" I had the story ready even before I thought about it. "Andrew...well, it's hard to describe Andrew", I said a little shyly, but very convincing. "We met when he visited the city a week back, and I dunno...we just keep on texting. He's so charming". I looked at the space above us, looking like I was remembering some fond memories. Daly didn't look happy. "So this Andrew character", he said a bit gruntled. "He's not from town?" "Oh yeah, he's from Charters", I replied. "He was here a week back because he was helping out his uncle with business". "And....you guys are...?", he asked. "I told you, Dale, it's hard to describe", I giggled. "But...that day at the library...when he asked me where the law books where, and the moment I looked at his eyes....like you said, he makes me feel... safe." "Hmm", Daly said quietly. He started playing with the fork, apparently nothing to say. Success.
Ten minutes later, Daly drove me home with his black BMW. Unlike the ride to Merope's Restaurant, the ride to my house was really a quiet one, with the two of us nothing to say to each other. Daly didn't seem to take the fact that me and my imaginary boyfriend loved each other very well. But, in my opinion, Daly will have minimal difficulty with getting a girl next school year, especially with that "story" of his. Any girl who's obsessed about love would disrobe herself in front of him before you can say "coffee". He'll be all right. But this serves as a lesson,not just to Daly Rogers, but to all...nobody outhands Elizabeth Dawson. Nobody.
Second half of the first chapter coming in a few days.
Last edited by btzneb; 12-29-2009 at 06:28 PM..
Reason: Chapter's too long.