Ok, this is a real original topic, I know e.e But it will lead me up to my
first In A Heartbeat fanfic that got deleted along with my first account
due to inactivity .:rolls eyes:. is it MY fault my muse was on vacation?
But anyway, due to the serious lack of good J/C fics, Bastet-ohki (my muse)
and I have decided to write a prequil to my first one, and will post my
original one whenever i can get around to it...anyway, enjoy this one,
though I have to warn you, I'm not the best writer in the world (that's
putting it mildly), and rarely catch any of my spelling mistakes...read at
your own risk...have fun ^-^
Disclaimer: If I actually owned this TV show, it would still be on the air! Grr...stupid Disney people... Anyway, onto the story (told from Caitie's POV)
After what seemed like an eternity the bell rang and all the students in Mr. Kidd's class were dismissed. As usual, Mr. Smith had let us out early. Mr. Kidd was the only teacher who ever waited for the bell anymore. I waited across the hall by my friend Jamie's locker. We both had geography last hour and usually walked downstairs to the classroom together. Finally I could distinguish him among the swarm of teens exiting the classroom through the almost too narrow doorway. I waved when he looked my direction and a smile broke out across his handsome features. He made his way to my side of the hall and nodded to me as he spun the dial on his combination lock. "Hey."
"Hi," I smiled back. "So how did history go?"
"Oh, perfect," Jamie smiled wryly. "Another 'D' on my test. My grade's gonna be great this semester." He jammed his history book in his locker, caught it before it could fall out, and shoved it back in, making sure it stayed this time. There really was a vast difference between Jamie's locker and mine. Mine was nice, neat, and organized; everything had it's own space. Jamie was lucky if anything had any space. School books, papers, his back pack, it was all just...there. Stuffed in wherever it could fit.
I laughed in spite of myself. "Wow...ever hear of organizational skills?"
He just glared at me in mock anger as he some how miraculusly found his geography book. Of course he couldn't pull it out without his math, French, and English books inevitably falling to the floor. Soon Jamie was chuckling along with me as I bent down and helped him pick up his books and wedge them back in his locker. He managed to shut his locker door and together we began the short walk to geography.
Jamie and I have been best friends since the first grade. I'm not sure how we actually became friends exactly, but I am sure it did happen in the first grade. Now we're 17, both Juniors in high school.
Last year he got caught boosting several packs of guitar strings from a local music store. Since that wasn't exactly his first offense, the store manager didn't take it too lightly. Originally Jamie was sentanced to three years in JuV, but out of luck, whether it be good or bad, this one Alex guy happened to be there at the time. He ran the volunteer EMT training program at out high school. He offered to take Jamie on as a recruit for the three years he was supposed to be spending in "The Hall." Eventually, Jamie finally decided to take him up on his offer. I guess it is better than going to JuV Hall, but that stupid EMT squad takes up a lot of his time and we hardly ever get a chance to hang out anymore I mean, I do realize that if he did go to the Hall we wouldn't be able to see eachother at all, but... I still miss spending time with him.
We didn't date or anything like that if that's what you're thinking. Even though our three friends, Val Lanier, Tyler Connel, and Hank Beechum, keep insisting we would be perfect for eachother, I just can't see Jamie as anything more than a friend, and I'm sure he feels the same way about me.
We reached the door of the geography room just in time to hear the bell ring. Late again, but oh well. We could care less about a few tardies on our records. Then again, we'd most likely recieve detentions; we haven't been on time once this week. But if and when that happened, we would at least get to hang out in detention together. It wouldn't be so bad.
"So, what do you suppose we're in for? Deto?" Jamie asked me amusedly.
"Of course," I shrugged, an apathetic smile twisting the corners of my mouth upwards.
"After you," Jamie held open the door and politely motioned for me to go first. I playfully shoved him aside and boldly walked into the classroom, met with a stern gaze from our teacher, Mrs. Wolland.
"Ah, Miss Roth, Mr. Waite... How did I know you two would show up late once again?" She confronted us, speaking in a high pitched nasilly voice which sounded a lot like scratching nails on a chalkboard. You couldn't help but cringe ever time you heard it.
"Um...I dunno...you psychic maybe?" Jamie suggested, trying to keep a straight face as a few kids in the back of the room giggled nervously.
"Yes, I suppose I am. I'm so psychic, in fact, that I've already had your detention slips written out since this morning. Enjoy." She handed us each a bright yellow slip of paper covered in her fancy swirly cursive handwriting, (I hate her handwriting), and shooed us away to our usual seats in the back of the room.
I slumped down into the empty desk by the window, sighed; bored with the same routein, folded the piece of paper in half, and stuffed it into my folder.
Jamie dropped his books loudly onto the desk next to me and sat down as Mrs. Wolland began her long droaning lecture on Paraguay. A lot of the time I found myself wondering how our teacher ever managed to find herself a husband. She was short and round with frizzy, wirey, grey hair. The one animal she resembled the most was a bulldog. Believe it or not, she really looked like one with her smashed in nose, wrinkly skin that hung down the sides of her face in long wobbly jowels, and a bottom jaw that jutted out, putting her bottom teeth in front of her top ones. She's a genuine hag. Maybe her husband is as ugly as she is...
"Actually, I could really use this detention." Jamie's whisper shook me out of my trance. "A squad free hour or two could really help me catch up on my history. You still getting an A in it? Maybe you could...er...sort of help me...with it?"
"Sure," I whispered back. "What are you getting now?"
"Uh..." He rubbed the back of his head embarassedly. Jamie and I felt so relaxed together. We didn't care how we looked, what we said, what we did around eachother. We were close friends and outward appearances couldn't mean less to us. Even a few accidentally harsh insults couldn't affect what we had. The only thing in the world that bothered Jamie to talk about with me is school stuff. Grades, GPA's, test scores, things like that.
See, I guess I'm what you could consider a Goth, seeing as that's what everyone in school calls me. Not that I mind or anything. I'd rather be some Gothic chick than some mindless follow-the-latest-trend-even-if-it's- the-gayest-thing-in-the-world teenie bopper. I pride myself on my individuality. I have long straight dark brown hair and eyes so light brown they look almost yellowish. In fact, I do wear coloured contacts which gives them an even more amber-like quality. You'd never find me in Abercrombie, Aeropastale, Gap, or Tommy Hilfiger clothes. None of that name brand crap. I'm more of a Hot Topic or Torrid kind of girl. My favorite colours are black, red, an purple, which is pretty much all I'll wear. But of all the names people call me, Goth Sloth, freak, weird, Wicca child, there's only one that they could never refer to me as. Dumb. What I lacked in looks, "normality," and social skills, I made up for in smarts. I got almost straight A's on my last report card, with the exception of one B+ in algebra all because I didn't feel like doing some of the homework assignments.
Jamie, on the other hand, is a full head taller than me with spikey brown hair with natural blonde highlights. He's a typical rebellious teenager, obsessed with leather jackets and motorcycles. He isn't that bad looking, but his inability to control his tongue when he's angry usually gets him into a lot of trouble. He's loyal, but often head strong and stubborn. Jamie used to do fairly well in school; elementary and Jr. High; but about two years ago his parents went through a messy divorce. It really shook him up. He never actually completely stopped trying, he just sort of...stopped putting 100% of his efforts into his school work. His grades slowly started dropping...he just stopped caring. His father never kept in touch, and his mom didn't pay much attention to him anymore. Ever since his dad left, she's become sort of spaced out and lethargic...on several occasions I've reminded him that he can always talk to me about it if he wanted to, and he always said he would if he ever felt like it, but he hasn't yet. Anyway, even though Jamie doesn't care too much about his grades, I guess he feels kind of self-concious disscussing them in front of me. It must have took him a lot of courage to ask me for help. "Well...I think I'm currently getting a sixty-seven..."
"Sixty-seven?!" I could barely keep my voice under a whisper. "Jamie, history's one of the easiest subjects! Do I even want to know what your other grades are?"
"No," he smiled meekly.
"Waite, Roth, didn't you two learn in elementary school not to talk while the teacher is talking?" Mrs. Wolland demanded angrilly. "Must I really baby-sit you two?" I really hate that terminology. "I'll tell you what, James, why don't you switch places with Jason. Maybe then you two will behave."
Jamie sighed reluctantly and began stuffing all of his papers back into his binder.
"So long, James," I imitated Mrs. Wolland's voice.
He only smiled wryly (he hates being called that), and stood up.
My heart skipped a beat as Jason made his way to Jamie's former desk. Jason Rendleman was a very tall sixteen year old with long spiked up bleached blonde hair and soldier blue eyes. He was a perfect punk with a silver nose ring and a gold earring with a long chain that attatched it to a black spiked chocker collar around his neck. He wore a black Minor Threat T-shir over a black long sleeve shirt, the sleeves extra long with holes cut in them for his thumbs. His baggy black cargo pants rode low on his hips, showing the elastic waist of his dark green boxers, held there loosly by a black square studded belt. I nodded hello to him as he took Jamie's seat, and he gave me a little half-smile in return. He really wasn't that bad looking...if your tastes ran that way (which mine did ;) ) Actually, I've always had the tiniest crush on him since last year...well, maybe it's not that tiny...
"Ok," Mrs. Wolland continued. "I know how much you love South American countries..."
The whole class groaned.
"And I know how tired you must be of my voice..."
A few brave people cheered, but our teacher ignored this and continued.
"For the next two weeks you and a partner will be working on a report about the South American country of your choice. Partners," she said loudly as everyone begain pairing up with their usual accomplices, "will be the person sitting next to you." (More moans) She began passing out a sheet of paper to everyone. "Here's a paper listing all the things you'll need to have in your report. Due two Fridays from now. You may begin."
I shrugged hopelessly at Jamie as I scooted my desk closer to Jason's. Jamie's parter was Jake Menold, a good friend of both of us. Though Jamie was lucky enough to get to work with a friend, (friends were rarely seated together in this class), I knew that with those two together, they wouldn't get any work done.
"So...it's...Caitie, right?" Jason asked me timidly.
I smiled cheerfully and nodded absentmindedly. Even his voice was hot...I realized I was staring and quickly averted my gaze, my cheeks pink. "And you're Jason...yeah, I've seen you around..."
"Yup...uh...you got a preference on what country you want to do our report on?"
I shook my head. "No, I don't care."
"Ok, then pick one."
"I...I...I don't know...you pick one, it doesn't matter to me."
"It doesn't matter to me either...here." He opened his textbook to a map of South America and slid it towards me. "Just choose one."
"I...I..." My cheeks were getting redder by the second. I was trying to say 'Venusuela,' but my tongue wouldn't form the word. *You're freezing, Caitie! Calm down,* I tried to tell myself.
"How about...Brazil then?" Jason suggested.
I still couldn't say anything so I just nodded dumbly.
"Brazil it is, then...with it's hot...steamy rainforests...very romantic."
There couldn't have been an ounce of blood left in my body, it had all suddenly rushed to my head.
"Have you ever been there before?"
"No...I...I've never been out of the country before..." I shyly admitted.
"Really?" He seemed surprised. "Brazil is great...I'd love to live there...in a quiet secluded spot...in the middle of the jungle...no other humans anywhere near, just the sound of the trees rustling, animals calling, birds chirping, and the occasional sound of rain...it really is paradise...no one around to bother you, to set restricting rules on you..."
I didn't say anything. What was I supposed to say? It's just...the way he said it, his voice so soft and sensual...was he hitting on me? I haven't had much experience with guys to know if that was the case. Though for the longest time I've been dying to snag a date with him, with him acting this way, it just gave me a sort of bad feeling. I didn't have much time to dwell on it, however, as my attention was suddenly claimed by the wadded up piece of paper that bounced off the desk in front of me. My head spun around in Jamie's direction where he and Jake were waving guiltilly. I snatched the paper ball off the floor and unfolded it, thinking it might be a note, but when it just wound up being a discarded sketch of a layout for their report, I just crumpled it back up, stuck my tongue out at Jamie, and chucked it back at him, pegging him on the arm.
"Is he your boyfriend?" Jason asked me unexpectedly.
"I..uh...Jamie? Ha, no way," I answered quickly.
"Oh, sorry, I just thought...the way you two act..."
"That's what everyone says," I rolled my eyes. "But it's definantly not going to happen. We're just friends."
"Oh, cool."
"Yeah..."
We didn't talk much after that, just about our project, and we both avoided eachother's gaze until the bell finally rang. Jason agreed to keep our papers in his locker till tomorrow and waved good bye as he walked out the door.
I picked up my things and joined Jamie and Jake who were still trying to put everything away. "You got that much done?" I asked, skeptically eyeing the thick stack of paper in Jake's hand.
"Well..." he tried to explain, but I easilly swiped the papers from him and looked them over.
"I should have known," I shook my head in mock disappointment. Rather than information about South America, the papers were filled with Jamie's talentless sketches and Jake's artist-quality drawings of scantly clad, big breasted animé girls. I cocked my eyebrow at a particularly revieling drawing of an Island girl who was wearing nothing but a long grass skirt and a flower lei (the petals barely covering up...those). I read the title, "This Is What the Women Look Like in Ecuador," and dropped the stack bnack onto the table. "Oh, yeah, I'm sure all the chicks look exactly like that. Put that in your report and see what Mrs. Wolland says."
"Right," Jake tucked his books under his arm. "Have fun in detention, you guys." And with a cheerful wave he made his way to the door.
"Do you know what room deto's in?" I asked Jamie.
He shrugged. "I think Mrs. Lindley's...c'mon." He playfully put his arm around my shoulders, gave me a little sideways hug, and escorted me out of the classroom.
*************************************************
Hmm...I told you I was a bad writer ^^; Well, ho hum, Not too much J/C yet, but I promise you, it will come ^-^ I'm not that great at writing beginnings or intros like this, so I promise the next chapters WILL be better, I promise! reviews are always appreciated, so please R/R...or not...I'm used to not getting very many reviews on my fics...my only successful one was my Eminem one, with 49 reviews...but of course evil FF.net just had to shut down Music Group fics... x.x Anyway...whatever...I'll just write the next chapter now cause I have no life and nothing better to do....
Disclaimer: If I actually owned this TV show, it would still be on the air! Grr...stupid Disney people... Anyway, onto the story (told from Caitie's POV)
After what seemed like an eternity the bell rang and all the students in Mr. Kidd's class were dismissed. As usual, Mr. Smith had let us out early. Mr. Kidd was the only teacher who ever waited for the bell anymore. I waited across the hall by my friend Jamie's locker. We both had geography last hour and usually walked downstairs to the classroom together. Finally I could distinguish him among the swarm of teens exiting the classroom through the almost too narrow doorway. I waved when he looked my direction and a smile broke out across his handsome features. He made his way to my side of the hall and nodded to me as he spun the dial on his combination lock. "Hey."
"Hi," I smiled back. "So how did history go?"
"Oh, perfect," Jamie smiled wryly. "Another 'D' on my test. My grade's gonna be great this semester." He jammed his history book in his locker, caught it before it could fall out, and shoved it back in, making sure it stayed this time. There really was a vast difference between Jamie's locker and mine. Mine was nice, neat, and organized; everything had it's own space. Jamie was lucky if anything had any space. School books, papers, his back pack, it was all just...there. Stuffed in wherever it could fit.
I laughed in spite of myself. "Wow...ever hear of organizational skills?"
He just glared at me in mock anger as he some how miraculusly found his geography book. Of course he couldn't pull it out without his math, French, and English books inevitably falling to the floor. Soon Jamie was chuckling along with me as I bent down and helped him pick up his books and wedge them back in his locker. He managed to shut his locker door and together we began the short walk to geography.
Jamie and I have been best friends since the first grade. I'm not sure how we actually became friends exactly, but I am sure it did happen in the first grade. Now we're 17, both Juniors in high school.
Last year he got caught boosting several packs of guitar strings from a local music store. Since that wasn't exactly his first offense, the store manager didn't take it too lightly. Originally Jamie was sentanced to three years in JuV, but out of luck, whether it be good or bad, this one Alex guy happened to be there at the time. He ran the volunteer EMT training program at out high school. He offered to take Jamie on as a recruit for the three years he was supposed to be spending in "The Hall." Eventually, Jamie finally decided to take him up on his offer. I guess it is better than going to JuV Hall, but that stupid EMT squad takes up a lot of his time and we hardly ever get a chance to hang out anymore I mean, I do realize that if he did go to the Hall we wouldn't be able to see eachother at all, but... I still miss spending time with him.
We didn't date or anything like that if that's what you're thinking. Even though our three friends, Val Lanier, Tyler Connel, and Hank Beechum, keep insisting we would be perfect for eachother, I just can't see Jamie as anything more than a friend, and I'm sure he feels the same way about me.
We reached the door of the geography room just in time to hear the bell ring. Late again, but oh well. We could care less about a few tardies on our records. Then again, we'd most likely recieve detentions; we haven't been on time once this week. But if and when that happened, we would at least get to hang out in detention together. It wouldn't be so bad.
"So, what do you suppose we're in for? Deto?" Jamie asked me amusedly.
"Of course," I shrugged, an apathetic smile twisting the corners of my mouth upwards.
"After you," Jamie held open the door and politely motioned for me to go first. I playfully shoved him aside and boldly walked into the classroom, met with a stern gaze from our teacher, Mrs. Wolland.
"Ah, Miss Roth, Mr. Waite... How did I know you two would show up late once again?" She confronted us, speaking in a high pitched nasilly voice which sounded a lot like scratching nails on a chalkboard. You couldn't help but cringe ever time you heard it.
"Um...I dunno...you psychic maybe?" Jamie suggested, trying to keep a straight face as a few kids in the back of the room giggled nervously.
"Yes, I suppose I am. I'm so psychic, in fact, that I've already had your detention slips written out since this morning. Enjoy." She handed us each a bright yellow slip of paper covered in her fancy swirly cursive handwriting, (I hate her handwriting), and shooed us away to our usual seats in the back of the room.
I slumped down into the empty desk by the window, sighed; bored with the same routein, folded the piece of paper in half, and stuffed it into my folder.
Jamie dropped his books loudly onto the desk next to me and sat down as Mrs. Wolland began her long droaning lecture on Paraguay. A lot of the time I found myself wondering how our teacher ever managed to find herself a husband. She was short and round with frizzy, wirey, grey hair. The one animal she resembled the most was a bulldog. Believe it or not, she really looked like one with her smashed in nose, wrinkly skin that hung down the sides of her face in long wobbly jowels, and a bottom jaw that jutted out, putting her bottom teeth in front of her top ones. She's a genuine hag. Maybe her husband is as ugly as she is...
"Actually, I could really use this detention." Jamie's whisper shook me out of my trance. "A squad free hour or two could really help me catch up on my history. You still getting an A in it? Maybe you could...er...sort of help me...with it?"
"Sure," I whispered back. "What are you getting now?"
"Uh..." He rubbed the back of his head embarassedly. Jamie and I felt so relaxed together. We didn't care how we looked, what we said, what we did around eachother. We were close friends and outward appearances couldn't mean less to us. Even a few accidentally harsh insults couldn't affect what we had. The only thing in the world that bothered Jamie to talk about with me is school stuff. Grades, GPA's, test scores, things like that.
See, I guess I'm what you could consider a Goth, seeing as that's what everyone in school calls me. Not that I mind or anything. I'd rather be some Gothic chick than some mindless follow-the-latest-trend-even-if-it's- the-gayest-thing-in-the-world teenie bopper. I pride myself on my individuality. I have long straight dark brown hair and eyes so light brown they look almost yellowish. In fact, I do wear coloured contacts which gives them an even more amber-like quality. You'd never find me in Abercrombie, Aeropastale, Gap, or Tommy Hilfiger clothes. None of that name brand crap. I'm more of a Hot Topic or Torrid kind of girl. My favorite colours are black, red, an purple, which is pretty much all I'll wear. But of all the names people call me, Goth Sloth, freak, weird, Wicca child, there's only one that they could never refer to me as. Dumb. What I lacked in looks, "normality," and social skills, I made up for in smarts. I got almost straight A's on my last report card, with the exception of one B+ in algebra all because I didn't feel like doing some of the homework assignments.
Jamie, on the other hand, is a full head taller than me with spikey brown hair with natural blonde highlights. He's a typical rebellious teenager, obsessed with leather jackets and motorcycles. He isn't that bad looking, but his inability to control his tongue when he's angry usually gets him into a lot of trouble. He's loyal, but often head strong and stubborn. Jamie used to do fairly well in school; elementary and Jr. High; but about two years ago his parents went through a messy divorce. It really shook him up. He never actually completely stopped trying, he just sort of...stopped putting 100% of his efforts into his school work. His grades slowly started dropping...he just stopped caring. His father never kept in touch, and his mom didn't pay much attention to him anymore. Ever since his dad left, she's become sort of spaced out and lethargic...on several occasions I've reminded him that he can always talk to me about it if he wanted to, and he always said he would if he ever felt like it, but he hasn't yet. Anyway, even though Jamie doesn't care too much about his grades, I guess he feels kind of self-concious disscussing them in front of me. It must have took him a lot of courage to ask me for help. "Well...I think I'm currently getting a sixty-seven..."
"Sixty-seven?!" I could barely keep my voice under a whisper. "Jamie, history's one of the easiest subjects! Do I even want to know what your other grades are?"
"No," he smiled meekly.
"Waite, Roth, didn't you two learn in elementary school not to talk while the teacher is talking?" Mrs. Wolland demanded angrilly. "Must I really baby-sit you two?" I really hate that terminology. "I'll tell you what, James, why don't you switch places with Jason. Maybe then you two will behave."
Jamie sighed reluctantly and began stuffing all of his papers back into his binder.
"So long, James," I imitated Mrs. Wolland's voice.
He only smiled wryly (he hates being called that), and stood up.
My heart skipped a beat as Jason made his way to Jamie's former desk. Jason Rendleman was a very tall sixteen year old with long spiked up bleached blonde hair and soldier blue eyes. He was a perfect punk with a silver nose ring and a gold earring with a long chain that attatched it to a black spiked chocker collar around his neck. He wore a black Minor Threat T-shir over a black long sleeve shirt, the sleeves extra long with holes cut in them for his thumbs. His baggy black cargo pants rode low on his hips, showing the elastic waist of his dark green boxers, held there loosly by a black square studded belt. I nodded hello to him as he took Jamie's seat, and he gave me a little half-smile in return. He really wasn't that bad looking...if your tastes ran that way (which mine did ;) ) Actually, I've always had the tiniest crush on him since last year...well, maybe it's not that tiny...
"Ok," Mrs. Wolland continued. "I know how much you love South American countries..."
The whole class groaned.
"And I know how tired you must be of my voice..."
A few brave people cheered, but our teacher ignored this and continued.
"For the next two weeks you and a partner will be working on a report about the South American country of your choice. Partners," she said loudly as everyone begain pairing up with their usual accomplices, "will be the person sitting next to you." (More moans) She began passing out a sheet of paper to everyone. "Here's a paper listing all the things you'll need to have in your report. Due two Fridays from now. You may begin."
I shrugged hopelessly at Jamie as I scooted my desk closer to Jason's. Jamie's parter was Jake Menold, a good friend of both of us. Though Jamie was lucky enough to get to work with a friend, (friends were rarely seated together in this class), I knew that with those two together, they wouldn't get any work done.
"So...it's...Caitie, right?" Jason asked me timidly.
I smiled cheerfully and nodded absentmindedly. Even his voice was hot...I realized I was staring and quickly averted my gaze, my cheeks pink. "And you're Jason...yeah, I've seen you around..."
"Yup...uh...you got a preference on what country you want to do our report on?"
I shook my head. "No, I don't care."
"Ok, then pick one."
"I...I...I don't know...you pick one, it doesn't matter to me."
"It doesn't matter to me either...here." He opened his textbook to a map of South America and slid it towards me. "Just choose one."
"I...I..." My cheeks were getting redder by the second. I was trying to say 'Venusuela,' but my tongue wouldn't form the word. *You're freezing, Caitie! Calm down,* I tried to tell myself.
"How about...Brazil then?" Jason suggested.
I still couldn't say anything so I just nodded dumbly.
"Brazil it is, then...with it's hot...steamy rainforests...very romantic."
There couldn't have been an ounce of blood left in my body, it had all suddenly rushed to my head.
"Have you ever been there before?"
"No...I...I've never been out of the country before..." I shyly admitted.
"Really?" He seemed surprised. "Brazil is great...I'd love to live there...in a quiet secluded spot...in the middle of the jungle...no other humans anywhere near, just the sound of the trees rustling, animals calling, birds chirping, and the occasional sound of rain...it really is paradise...no one around to bother you, to set restricting rules on you..."
I didn't say anything. What was I supposed to say? It's just...the way he said it, his voice so soft and sensual...was he hitting on me? I haven't had much experience with guys to know if that was the case. Though for the longest time I've been dying to snag a date with him, with him acting this way, it just gave me a sort of bad feeling. I didn't have much time to dwell on it, however, as my attention was suddenly claimed by the wadded up piece of paper that bounced off the desk in front of me. My head spun around in Jamie's direction where he and Jake were waving guiltilly. I snatched the paper ball off the floor and unfolded it, thinking it might be a note, but when it just wound up being a discarded sketch of a layout for their report, I just crumpled it back up, stuck my tongue out at Jamie, and chucked it back at him, pegging him on the arm.
"Is he your boyfriend?" Jason asked me unexpectedly.
"I..uh...Jamie? Ha, no way," I answered quickly.
"Oh, sorry, I just thought...the way you two act..."
"That's what everyone says," I rolled my eyes. "But it's definantly not going to happen. We're just friends."
"Oh, cool."
"Yeah..."
We didn't talk much after that, just about our project, and we both avoided eachother's gaze until the bell finally rang. Jason agreed to keep our papers in his locker till tomorrow and waved good bye as he walked out the door.
I picked up my things and joined Jamie and Jake who were still trying to put everything away. "You got that much done?" I asked, skeptically eyeing the thick stack of paper in Jake's hand.
"Well..." he tried to explain, but I easilly swiped the papers from him and looked them over.
"I should have known," I shook my head in mock disappointment. Rather than information about South America, the papers were filled with Jamie's talentless sketches and Jake's artist-quality drawings of scantly clad, big breasted animé girls. I cocked my eyebrow at a particularly revieling drawing of an Island girl who was wearing nothing but a long grass skirt and a flower lei (the petals barely covering up...those). I read the title, "This Is What the Women Look Like in Ecuador," and dropped the stack bnack onto the table. "Oh, yeah, I'm sure all the chicks look exactly like that. Put that in your report and see what Mrs. Wolland says."
"Right," Jake tucked his books under his arm. "Have fun in detention, you guys." And with a cheerful wave he made his way to the door.
"Do you know what room deto's in?" I asked Jamie.
He shrugged. "I think Mrs. Lindley's...c'mon." He playfully put his arm around my shoulders, gave me a little sideways hug, and escorted me out of the classroom.
*************************************************
Hmm...I told you I was a bad writer ^^; Well, ho hum, Not too much J/C yet, but I promise you, it will come ^-^ I'm not that great at writing beginnings or intros like this, so I promise the next chapters WILL be better, I promise! reviews are always appreciated, so please R/R...or not...I'm used to not getting very many reviews on my fics...my only successful one was my Eminem one, with 49 reviews...but of course evil FF.net just had to shut down Music Group fics... x.x Anyway...whatever...I'll just write the next chapter now cause I have no life and nothing better to do....