This story will follow the movie's plot closely, but it will have some extras for the sake of WITCH-ness. I'd recommend having seen the movie before reading. I will try to keep the characters in character, but OOC may happen. And this story is mainly in Will's POV, and she's totally breaking the fourth wall, but only because that's how it was in the movie. Later on the in the story the POV might change to third and then back to Will. Well, here ya go! REVIEW if you like! I need feedback, critiques, no flames though. lol
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I was in 7th grade when I realized I was invisible. No, not the freaky superpower kind of invisible, but just anonymous. I didn't try to be, I've just always been sort of a .. loser. And when it came to love, I was always the girl who passed the love notes on because I sat in the way of a hunk and his soon-to-be-girlfriend. Yeah, it sucked. But, my life got better, and this is the story about how it turned around in the matter of a few months. I'm Will Vandom, and although I may not be crazy, I'm going to tell you a crazy story about how I met my four even crazier best friends and my awesome boyfriend, Matt. Don't scuff! Its not some simple, teen-aged love story, you know. In fact, its not even about me. Its about him. Caleb Tucker. The man, king of Sheffield, the – well you get it. We'll get to that later! But first you have to know about me.
Sheffield would be my 8th for the year, and it only counts if I stay for at least a fourth of the semester.
Now, why all this schools you ask? Being invisible wasn't the only thing working against me. That other thing is, my mom is a complete, and total, regulation 'A' hottie. No problem, right? Ha. Don't be ridiculous.
I remember once that a neighbor named Josh came over with a plate of brownies, and he offered them to me. Before I could accept them however, my mom walked into the room, and Josh practically wrestled the plate out of my hand and flew over the counter to give them to my mom. Ouch? It happens often actually. Thats not the really problem.
My father figure? Well... they tend to change over the months. Not like its a bad thing, no, I'm all for the dating thing (not) but even I must admit, Mom has a thing for magicians. It seems that after a few weeks, they all do the disappearing act. Mom's never had trouble landing men, she just had trouble keeping them. I used to keep track, but it was exhausting, so I decided to call them all Skip.
Because eventually, that's what they all do. Its happened so many times, that my mom's developed a very mature reaction. A few pints of chocolate icing, and we pack up our things and move. But hey, we do it so much that I don't have to go through whole awkward goodbye thing. Ha ha.
Anyway, enough about me, this story is about him.
Caleb Tucker.
Let's face it, he's the man. He's captain of the basketball team, his family is loaded, he looks somewhere between an Abercrombie model and a greek god. The king of Sheffield, C- Tuck, Tuckman, T-dog, well, I could go all day, but you get the point.
Where do I begin this story? Oh right, the beginning. I'll start from when I first glanced into my house, in a awkward place named Heather-field – weird name right? And from the looks of it, this place is a total bore-fest.
It all really started when my mom answered the door that one Sunday. The Lairs, particularly Anna, stood wit a plate of what looked like cookies with plastic smiles. They had worked their way into the house easily, my Mom LOVES to chat with new neighbors. I hate it. I glanced over from the couch to see my mom gesturing for me to come socialize myself. With a small sigh, I took off my earphones (Daft Punk was playing, and I was just getting into it. Mom has the best timing.) and made my way to the table, where Anna had placed the cookies.
"This is Tom, my husband." She gestured to the tub of man next to her, with identically colored hair. Her nodded to her Mom with a sheepish smile. The lady, Anna was it? She looked at me and her eyes widened with either joy or terrible horror, it was hard to tell.
"Now, look here, how old are you young lady? Whats your name?" She asked. I guess it was joy, that women seemed to be a powerhouse of erratic facial expressions.
"Sixteen, Will." I muttered, looking towards the kitchen floor. I wanted this conversation over, now!
"Well!" She did a intake of air, but the smile still stayed. "You know what this means, Tom! Our Irma will finally have someone to talk too!"
Tom Lair had also decided to take a seat while my mom and Anna chattered like well-trained parrots. I reached for a chocolate chip cookie. It slipped from my hand and bounced – yeah, bounced off the floor with a slight thud. Suddenly I wasn't hungry.
"Anna isn't the best cook," Tom commented, obviously just as stricken as I. He put his cookie back on the plate and pushed it away from both of us. "They make great paperweights." I managed an awkward smile, but before anymore small talk was made, Mom and Anna made their way to our table.
"Oh, she'll just love our Irma." She commented. "She is just the sweetest thing, right Tom? Anyway-"
I stifled a laugh as I watched Tom subtly shake his head. (I shouldn't have laughed then, since I had to find that fact out the hard way. But that's later!)
Anna and Tom finally left an hour later, after what seemed like an eternity of talking about the neighborhood and the school and about "Irma" and how they should make a play-date for us. Seriously, I'm like sixteen, a play-date just sounds wrong in my ears.
While my mom waved them goodbye, I made my way back to the couch and the serenity of my headphones and Owl City. But before I could clump them on my ears and enter my own paradise, my mom decided to start a conversation.
"They were nice, weren't they?"
"Yep."
Not even.
"And I can't wait to meet Irma, she sounds like a nice girl. We should go over sometime."
"Yep."
No way, nope, not ever.(I didn't know that then, but that's what I most likely would've said, had I known)
"Are you liking Heatherfield?"
"Yep."
NO.
"Are you just agreeing to get me to shut up?"
"Yep."
Yep.
"Oh, Will." She hummed, making her way over to the couch. She picked up the remote and shut the TV off, and my eyes grew wide with the realization of what that meant. Oh no, it's a heartfelt conversation! I hate those!
"I know you hate moving so often."
"No mom, it's alright. Its like a life-long road trip."
"Will, I'm being serious. I know this is all rough on you. You're a teen now, you need your freedom, your friends, I know, I know it. You can unpack your stuff... I know you didn't in our last house, but trust me, you can. This our home for good, I promise. I promise."
I fought the urge to roll my eyes and stared at the now vacant TV.
"I know you hate it, but this is the last time. This is our home, so I suggest you get used to it."
"You've said that before. In fact, you said it in California, Maine, Vermont and -"
"But this time I seriously mean it. I've landed a mainstream job – the pay is good, and at this rate I can afford college by the time you graduate. Will, look at me. This a new beginning for both of us, and the rest of our lives start now."
"Whatever you say, Mom. Just don't move us out before Christmas, there's more traffic on the holidays." And with that, I grabbed my iPod and headed for my (new) room. I know that seemed cruel to say, but I've heard that promise before, and things always change once Skip breaks my mom's heart again.
Maybe moving again wouldn't be so bad after-all, my room was... well.. it was just ugly. The walls were a faded yellow, the floors were plywood, and there was two windows that looked over the (boring) street. Great. And my bed looked like it was placed randomly, which it probably was. Those movers looked sketchy anyway. Still, I had to witness my mom slip her number into one of their backpockets. Tch.
I landed hard on the bed with little to no bounce, and glanced over at my dormouse, Ecky, who scampered in his small cage in excitement. He does it every time we move, despite the fact we do it so often. I smiled. I've had him since 1st grade, and he's pretty much the only real friend I've had. (I know, pathetic right?) I looked over to my frog backpack that laid on the counter as well. School tomorrow. Yay.
I don't hate school, school hates me. My grades average from great to horrible, but that's not the problem. Nobody notices me, I've even had a teacher who marked me absent for a whole month, despite me sitting in the front row everyday. Everyone called me "the weirdo" or "that girl." I pretty much didn't have a name.
It hadn't always been that way, there was actually a time where I loved school. That was before I moved from that lovely little town in Montana. And the move after that. And then the two moves after that. Thats when I lost count of how many schools I've been too. And then the moves after that completely destroyed the idea of a normal life, and assaulted the idea of having friends, balling them both up and dumping them into the great dumpster of my would-be life. But after the ninth time this happened, I had learned that it was easier to just not make friends. I shied away from everyone, becoming an eventual outcast. God, I hated it..
See, friends were no longer an option for me either. I just never had time to make them. Every time I'd manage to befriend a neighbor or a classmate, Mom whisked me away to another state! It just wasn't fair!
After a while, I sort of became... invisible. No one knew who I was, and I never stayed long enough for them to find out. Yeah... it sucked.
So why should Sheffield be any different? It was safe to say that I already hated the school.
That night, I went to sleep clutching my stuffed animal (a frog, of course). I knew I had a lot ahead of me, and I needed the comfort that night.
Any-who, all that was Sunday. Meaning the day after was Monday, and as you should know already, I hate Mondays.
Also, it was the first day of Sheffield High School. I swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in my throat as we pulled up to a large, Victorian-like building. I clutched my frog backpack a little tighter as Mom gaped at the building, whistling. That didn't help my nervousness.
"Bye, honeybuns!" She seemingly shrieked as she pulled away. I cringed immediately. Several kids looked at me and chuckled and giggled, and I heard some guy yell 'hey honeybuns!' behind my back. Thanks, mom!
The school stood leering over me as I desperately tried to find my first class on the crumpled piece of paper I had in my pocket. Biology. Fun. It was somewhere on the second floor, B6? Who made this stupid schedule? It should have included a map.
While I was pondering that really important fact, I didn't notice until the bell rung that I was nowhere near any steps and was pretty much lost. I hate, hate, hated Mondays.
Anyway.
It was then when I first witnessed Caleb Tucker in all his glory.
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First chap, review if ya like! :D