A/N: So another story. Not sure of the rating for the moment, however this chapter is merely suggestive so I might just leave it at T for the moment. If you think otherwise let me know!
Also, if you can, listen to "Mama Do" by Pixie Lott when reading this chapter. You should be able to find it on Youtube very easy!
Narrators Soliloquy
The trouble with sunset was not that it signalled the beginning of night, or the fact that night necessitated the use of lights (a trait that had electricity conservationists everywhere throwing tantrums of epic proportions). Nor was it the fact that it allowed all those scary little things, bats and bogey-men and owls and, err, some of L.A.'s rather unique individuals, to roam happily on the streets.
No, the trouble with sunset was rather that it created a paradoxical amalgamation of two seemingly dissimilar, yet thoroughly symbiotic endings to daytime, and it was this deceptively innocuous peculiarity that left one Jennifer Thornton in a rather dire predicament of sorts. Oh sure Jenny loved sunsets, who didn't? They were just so pretty; the last rays of the sun blending and weaving, to create sweet mishmashes of pastel hued colours.
It screamed "pretty", it screamed "look at me", and Jenny did unerringly, every evening, from the top of Vista Hill; Sometimes with company, but mostly alone.
Lately however, Jenny had been having thoughts.
Strange thoughts.
Thoughts that made her question the very meaning of her existence on earth....
Ok, perhaps not as dramatic as that, our Jenny is blonde, so we'll keep the thoughts blonde-appropriate for the moment - but deep thoughts none the less.
She found herself questioning her fondness for sunset. Sometimes it felt like she liked it purely for its looks, and then she felt ashamed. Other times she felt she liked it because the end to a day, bought about the chance to dream, perchance to sleep*. Other times still, Jenny liked it because it was the end to another gosh-darned –boring-as-hell day, and there was one less thing to now worry about and so on, so forth.
It is this perplexing patchwork of thoughts that begins our story.
While the sun beams its fond farewell to the city of Los Angeles, whilst the earth spins gently round and round, while Jenny lies on the bonnet of her car and chews her lips in intense concentration, a moving van is depositing its final packages on Elm Street and roaring off into the sunset.
Starting (purely by accident) a chain of events, which was to result in Jenny Thornton thinking far deeper thoughts than she ever deemed possible.
Chapter the One: Bubblegum
As the last of the sun dipped languorously into the ocean, overhead Venus and Jupiter twinkled into life. Jenny watched as they sparkled away, glimmering their secret messages to world below. She stared wide-eyed and silent, lost in an intense train of thought, oblivious to the compromising position of her fellow sunset watchers.
Night set in, in earnest and the soft evening breeze cooled itself in response. Goosebumps rose on Jenny's arms as the newly chilled breeze snaked itself through her light pull-over, caressing her skin with finger-tips of ice. When the activity in the neighbouring car resulted in a high-pitched squeal and a blast of the horn, Jenny felt it time to leave. After rapping on her neighbours' window and yelling that a motel would be more comfortable, she sat herself into her vintage yellow Volkswagen Beetle, and drove home.
Jenny lived in a large ranch-style house on Elm Street, situated in the leafy suburbs of Vista Grande. Designed by her pernickety mother and paid for by her long-suffering father, the bungalow had four bedrooms, three and a half baths and a swimming pool. It currently housed Jenny, her parents, her little brother Joey and Sheridan, the ghost. While no one had actually seen Sheridan, Joey was convinced he existed and forcibly insisted that the guest room be renamed Sheridan's room.
The fact, Joey insisted, that Sheridan had yet to behave like a regular poltergeist, reaffirmed the necessity to keep him happy. Jenny had lately taken to patting Joey intermittently on the head and speaking to him in loud clear tones.
Parking her car in behind her fathers, Jenny was walking to her front door when she first noticed the lights in the house across the street. Quirking an eyebrow she entered her house to the strains of Mozart's 5th symphony. Her mother, it seemed, was entertaining the neighbours again.
Grabbing a glass of milk and chocolate cookie from the kitchen, Jenny poked her head into the living room, saying a quick hello to her parents, Mr and Mrs Redmond, and Mr and Mrs Smith.
"Jenny darling, glad you're home, have you heard the exciting gossip yet?!"
Fighting the urge to state the obvious and say "No, because I'm just home, duh", Jenny responded with a simple "No" and another quirked eyebrow.
"Oh well!" her mother trilled conspiratorially, as Mozart's symphony reached its scherzo, "We have new neighbours! Isn't that exciting!?"
The statement was decidedly undramatic, and Jenny fought the urge to bang her head of the door-frame. There was a momentary pause in which Jenny struggled to say something, while the room stared back at her.
Finally she choked out a "Sooo exciting! So, so exciting.... that I... well I just have to call Tom and let him know!"
"You do that darling", her mother said, "Tell Tom we all say hello and to drop by soon. It's been far too long since I saw his handsome face!"
Jenny bared her teeth in what she hoped resembled a smile, and made her way to her bedroom yakking silently to herself. Someone needed to take the evening dose of brandy away from her mother, but somehow whenever Jenny hid a bottle, another one magically sprang up to take its place. Jenny strongly suspected her father, particularly after he broke a priceless Mojave vase, but nothing had been proven to date. She was however, in the midst of purchasing a ready assembled, home "Eye-Spy" kit in an attempt to thwart the cease-less supplying brandy-fairy.
After losing half of her cookie to her glass of milk, and cursing at the floating chocolate chips at the bottom of her glass, Jenny rang Tom.
"Heyyyyy shnookums" she trilled when Tom picked up, she was her mother's daughter after all, it was to be expected.
"S'up Thorns? Enjoy the sunset today?"
"Mediocre at best," Jenny said, "Yesterdays was better."
"Jenny you didn't see the sunset yesterday, you were too busy grop- Oh..."
"Yes."
"Oh!"
"Yes."
"Can I come over?"
"Can't, half the street's in my living room, discussing the new neighbours."
"You have new neighbours?"
"Yes, it's very exciting."
"Err..."
"Go with it Tom."
"Well, yeah, that's yeah.... that's exciting."
"Nah, too hard, you killed it."
"Sorry."
"It's k."
"Sure I can't come over?"
"Mmmm...., eh what the hell, my mother should be drunk enough soon, and dad's too happy when that happens to care about anything. Just come around back."
"Tiighhtt, see you in 2 Thorns."
The phone clicked before Jenny could say bye. Eager, she thought, maybe tonight then....
The story of Tom and Jenny was rumoured as being one of those long-winded fated-to-be-together-since-they-were-born type affairs. Rumours no doubt started and fanned by a particular brandy-loving individual, but there was again, no proof. In actual fact however, Tom and Jenny had gotten together well after birth, when Tom was eight, and Jenny seven. At first it was all sunshine and puppies, and kisses with dandelions.
When puberty hit and hormones raged, it changed to smoking hot kisses, without tongue, then with tongue, then with tongue and hickeys.
Lately though, Jenny wondered if Tom had actually hit puberty or not. Although they made out a lot, and Tom liked to grip her thighs and her waist, they still hadn't officially reached second base. This was in direct contrast to all normal teenage boy urges that she had ever read about in the classic Mills & Boon. Also, from what Jenny had heard tell from Audrey, her European "educated" friend, in several instances that she had experienced, first base was actually second base et etc. She had then attempted to persuade Jenny to dump Tom, whilst simultaneously promoting the wonders of fur trimmed negligees.
A few weeks back Tom and Jenny had been "watching" the sunset together quite vigorously. After some intense sun-gazing, Tom's hands had drifted ever so slightly upwards, and grazed the underwire of her bra. Jenny had felt a strange rush of apprehension and intrigue at this surprisingly new development.
Was this right?
Was it too soon??
Was she ready?? ?
What would her mother say????
Fearing she knew exactly what her mother would say, particularly with one or two brandies on her, Jenny threw caution to the wind and waited for Tom to move on up.
He didn't though.
A week later he still hadn't.
Two weeks....
Three weeks.
In the fifth week Jenny started to wonder whether there was something wrong with her. In the sixth week she shrugged it off and thought there was something wrong with Tom.
And now there was tonight.
Slipping into something more "comfortable", (Audrey's advice having been firmly adhered too) Jenny propped her window open, and arranged herself on her bed: On the side, facing the window, one leg bent, arms propping head up. She hoped what little cleavage she had was prominent. At ten minutes to ten, Tom jumped through her window. Hair all windswept, shirt buttons partially undone and lascivious smirk in place.
Jenny's first thought was that he better put that smirk into use.
Her second was to say hello.
"Hi" she said quietly,
"Hi back."
From then on it was a tangle of limbs and tongues as Jenny not so subtly dragged Tom to her bed. They made out heavily for approximately ten minutes before Jenny felt Tom's hand slowly drag upwards, graze the underwire of her bra, and.....
Stop.
She decided to give him a minute....
Nothing.
"Ugh, GOSH DARN it Tom" she yelled, sitting up quickly and throwing Tom off her bed. "GET OUT!"
There was a rather embarrassing pause in which Tom, still adjusting himself to the fact that Jenny was no longer underneath him, tried to catch up with the pace of the evening.
"What?"
"You heard me, GET OUT."
"But.....Why?"
"Because I said so," Jenny hissed, "Get Out and go figure out what's wrong with you! Go on, SCOOT."
Tom stared for a moment then made his slow confused way on out, "Geez PMS much Jenny?"
"OUT" she yelled again, willing him to go before she did something drastic.
"GONE, I'm gone, relax MANIAC" Tom yelled as the last of his legs disappeared from her window sill.
"Ass-hat" Jenny mumbled.
Down the hall, something went thump in the guest bedroom. It appeared Sheridan agreed with her.
At ten minutes to twelve, after an hour of trying to sleep, Jenny was still wide awake and currently, thoroughly pissed off. Whatever else was to be said about 18 year old boys, surely, surely they were supposed to be curious? Willing to explore? Like, seriously, where would America be if Columbus had decided not to set sail because he was too chicken-shit to explore? Or worse yet, if Columbus had stopped right at the edge of America, bobbing away in his little boat but never going any further.
This led Jenny to think that maybe she should buy Tom a compass or better yet, an anatomical chart (with instructions).
And it was curious, but Jenny had a memory of what exploring felt like. She remembered the feeling, had flashing images of the intoxicating rush, felt the burn of the heat…. which was entirely preposterous because she had never actually experienced anything like that yet. Who knows, perhaps she had been a harlot in her previous life.
Letting out an indignant sigh, she flipped her side lamp on and stared at the wall. She sent a rude text to Tom and then painted her toe-nails bubble-gum pink. If she was being pedantic, she could say she painted her toenails in Rimmel, No. 23, Cupcake Frosting. But the colour currently being spread looked more like Pepto-Bismol then frosting, so she settled for bubble-gum.
At ten minutes to one, Jenny was still awake, still thoroughly pissed and now thoroughly tired. The smell of her nail-polish was also making her gag a little.
It was going to be a long night.
A/N: My most sincere apologies to blondes everywhere. Yes I am thoroughly type-casting in this chapter and it's all in name of artistic expression, I do not believe in any such type-casting myself at all.
Next chapter introduces our very own Julian, fondly known as Ju Ju. If you review, Ju Ju will kidnap you and make you face your worst nightmares in an attempt to woo you.
*This is a shakespearean quote, and yes I've turned it on it's head. I'm probably being cursed from the grave as I type.