Okay, yeah. The first 4 *paragraphs* have to do with the girl thing. It seems so short, I'm just here like, "Fuck, it 3 pages long in word..." but, hopefully how good it is, makes up for the lack of length. More chapters to come. Working on 2 right now.
I actually posted this idea on tumblr for anyone else who wanted to try to write it, but it was my plan from the start to write it. And thusly why it exists on here now.
There was this girl. She was really pretty. You can remember quite clearly. Actually…no. The word pretty doesn't even scratch the surface. She was…she was fucking beautiful! More than that…she was astounding! Drop dead gorgeous! Sexy, no. That was undermining, and more than usual ended in guys getting called "douche bags" or "pricks", not to mention it in no way applied to her. She wasn't curvy, and she didn't seem so from the front either and in all honesty, that didn't even matter to you. It was the smile, and warm look in her eyes that grabbed your attention. The teeth, though buck, made the most adorable smile ever, and her eyes were a fetching blue, ones only comparing to the deepest parts of the ocean. She would be quite the "catch", in some stupid, ironic fish pun.
Her thick rimmed glasses made her eyes pop, and they did so quite nicely compared to her dark brown hair, that of which fell in her face. As she, irritated, pushed it from her eyes, she caught yours. Thankfully, your shades were there to hide the awe that must have been there to sell you out. Of course, your mouth showed no signs of wanting to smirk or smile. Especially not smile. You did however, walk over to her, not scared in the slightest. You were quite a hit with the ladies after all. What girl could resist a ultra cool, sex god of a Strider like you?
Not that you'd ever done that kind of thing. You may be 15, but you knew where lines were at, and which ones you shouldn't cross. That and your bro would probably kick your ass if you had done anything. He probably didn't want you kissing girls either, but now all you can do is shrug. Too late for that. And as if he didn't kick your ass enough as it was.
You remember walking up to her, and she smiled quite big. Until you said the words "You know, you've got to be one of the most beautiful girls on campus, and I'm sure you have the personality to match." In which her expression became sour. "Not again dammit! I fucking told him I needed a haircut, and now I have another boy hitting on me!" she threw her arms into the air, and this is where you began questioning the title, and suspicions confirmed when she concluded "I'm a boy. But thanks for the compliment I guess. If you even still mean it…it's kind of weird now…that you know I'm not what you thought."
He pushed more hair behind his ear, the smile replaced with an awkward look. "Of course I still mean it. You're even going to make a hot slash beautiful boy when you get it cut too. You don't just take something like that back. It's not cool." You push your glasses up as of to say "And I know about cool." In return, he laughed a little, and yep…still goddamn adorable.
As you reached into your pocket he watched curiously "So, what's your name?" His attention went back to your eyes, which due to where he was looking, you knew he couldn't see. Must be a habit for him to look people in the eyes. "Oh, John. John Egbert." Your hand retracts from your pocket grasping something "Dave Strider."
Taking one hand in your own, you push a ten into his hand. Immediately he freaked out "Wha- But I'm not a homosexual, what are you doing?!" He looked down at it as your hands slid into your pockets for posture. "Dude, I really can't take this…" You turn around and put his arm up in a form of goodbye.
"Hey come back! You can't just gi-" Turning back ever so slightly, you push your pointer finger to your lips and shush him. Then continue to walk to your next class. Standing there in shock, he shoved it in his pocket and stomped off into the other direction. Pushing through the classroom door, you see you're *fashionably* late. Nothing new. You had your own little reputation to uphold, and without meeting John, who knows what you would have done to be late.
It was stupid really. One day. One fucking day and not even 24 hours, that you found yourself having Egbert withdrawals. Lunch was glorious. Him smiling, still mad at you, asking you what the hell the 10 bucks had been for "For a haircut. You said you needed one. He, what I'm guessing is your dad, didn't give you any, any being money of course, so I did." He rolled his eyes and took another bite of his food. "Thanks then…"
You could see he was taking it as an awkward thing. "But you do have pretty hai-" He held up a hand "No. Just, don't say that kind of jazz. I already told you. No homo, and that I'm a boy, stop complimenting me. I don't even know why I'm considering you a friend to be honest." Fuck man. He needed to stop all this adorable shit, or else there was no doubt what was going to happen. That is…if it hadn't already. Though the blow was kind of hard to look through.
Now you're at home, laying all the couch and your bro's poking you with a long stick. "Dave. Hey Dave. David. Dave. David. You're laying on my fucking Doritos get up. Dave. Dave. David Motherfucking Strider, get your ass off my chips dammit." He poked you again particularly hard and you just rolled over, leaving the chips exposed and he grabbed them, leaving you alone to once again wallow in your euphoria. How do you seduce a boy? Or maybe that wasn't the word…get him to like you…no matter how many times he said he's not a homosexual. Somehow he had to like you back. Somehow. But you really did have to wonder. How would he look with short hair again? Damn. Better not think about that anywhere, where bro could see you.
Throwing your legs carelessly over the edge of the couch, you get up and sloppily walk to your room, taking your shades off, tossing them on the nightstand and face planting onto the soft mattress. This was going to be a stressful school year, no doubt. As far as it seemed, John was perfect. Personality, appearance, actions, enough to make you fall on the floor, not that you ever would, or would ever admit it. You might have to check how much your heart weighs, because damn did you fall head over heels fast.
Now you got to thinking about hearts. They were pretty weird. Getting heavy with different emotions. Like, what's even up with that? When you're in love or when you're depressed. That was some pretty confusing shit if you've ever seen some. It was too early for all that sappy "What it's like to kiss them, hug them, date them" etc junk. Nah, but maybe just listen to his voice. That's something that wasn't too sappy, right? What did it matter? You wanted it, and by something you were unsure to name, you were gonna have it. Getting up, you rummaged through your lack-of-use drawer for a voice recorder. Yeah, that would suffice better than anything else you could find lying around.
"Crap." How exactly were you planning on getting sleep when you were do caught up in your Egbert thoughts? Obviously, you weren't. Plush rumps, plush rumps, plush rumps, plush rumps, Egbert rump, plush rumps, wait what was that you just thought? Well someone's screwed. Better try anyway, you think, crawling into bed. Burying your face into the pillow, you find it's actually easier than you thought. No sooner than you thought that were you fast asleep, dreams of his features inhabiting the body of Doritos, not that, that made any kind of sense whatsoever.
Yawning with a stretch, you realize you forgot pajamas. Smart move there cool guy. Goodbye plain red tee, hello red/white tee with the infamous turn table disk. Your signature shirt, and a clear amplifier of your charisma. Nobody could resist you in this, which would be perfect for trying to draw in a John. A John Egbert. Not any old John walking through the halls or down the street. Moving had to have been the best thing that had ever happened to you thus far.
Grabbing a piece of toast and throwing you backpack over your shoulder, a single sweep of your hand over your blonde locks, and you were out of there. Off to school. Off to impress. Off to obtain.