I know, I know, it's another story, and I'm already a crappy updater blahblahblah.
But, please, my head will explode if I don't get this out.
Okay, so I just finished The Last Song by Nicholas Sparks. And I thought it was brilliant. Could be one of the best books I will ever read.
And then I got inspired.
And I've always wanted to try one of those clichéd stories wherein the girl does something and she ends up living somewhere with a relative who's a boy and a manwhore ends up falling in love with her.
So I fused those two together, and ended up with this.
Let's see how good I am at a cliché, yes?
Okay, chapter titles are just whatever. Whatever song I'm listening to when I start.
I wasn't supposed to use this song as the story title…I was supposed to use When I Look At You by Miley Cyrus, since it fits so perfectly…but then that's the song used for The Last Song, and I don't want to use that too. So I used Your Love Is A Song by Switchfoot, since it was the next song I listened to.
DISCLAIMER: Nothing is mine. And this will apply to every single chapter.
trapped inside your misery
everything you're not – demi lovato
New York police do not care whether or not you are cold, Massie Block said, rubbing her arms. She was in jail, and she was wearing a sleeveless dress. It wasn't a very long dress either. She was cold.
They came just after midnight, and the chaos of inebriated teenagers escaping trapped Massie in the house. They caught her and a girl and boy she barely knew, and three more boys she didn't know; it was a party, do you really expect her to know everyone? They put the six teenagers in separate cells, and Massie knows that she would be the one that would be questioned the most. She was the only sober one; she just had one glass of vodka. She was planning to drink at 12:51, just for the sake of it.
She was right. A few minutes later, a police officer led her in front of his desk, and started prying her with questions.
"Who threw the party?"
"I don't know," she said honestly. She only heard about the party from Skye Hamilton, and Skye mentioned nothing about the party thrower. The only thing she knew was that he was one of the Grayson Academy boys, and nothing more.
"Nothing at all?"
"He goes to Grayson. That's it," she admitted. She figured lying would get her nowhere; plus, she hates lying.
"No name?"
"The only thing I know about him is that he goes to Grayson, and he apparently throws the best parties in the Upper East Side," Massie said.
"Okay. Did you know that the house was broken into?"
"Nope. I thought it was his house," Massie said. She didn't know that the party thrower just trespassed into the house. That the actual owners were a middle-aged couple, with no children living at home, who went to Tuscany for a week.
"Do any of these boys go to Grayson?" the officer asked, indicating the four boys they caught.
"He does," Massie said, pointing to the boy with the light brown hair. She saw him once, wearing his school uniform.
"Well, Ms. Block. It sounds like you're…innocent. I take it you've already called your mother using your phone call?" he asked.
"Yes." She sighed. Her mother was most definitely not happy.
"Then we just have to wait for her, then you can go."
(*)
Scratch that. Her mother wasn't just not happy. She was livid. Furious. Seething.
"Mom, you heard the officer. I'm innocent!" Massie argued when they got back to their penthouse.
"It's not about whether you're guilty or innocent! It's about you sneaking out to party then ending up in jail! Do you know what this will do to your future? This could go on you permanent records!"
"I was there for an hour, with no charges," Massie reasoned. Her mother just doesn't listen to her. She never does.
"Still! What if they kept you longer? What if the owners pressed charges? You'll never get into an Ivy League!"
"Whatever, Mom! That's all you care about! Ivy Leagues and the future. You never even asked me if I was fine!" Massie exploded, feeling ten times better that she finally let it all out. "By the way, I'm not fine. It was cold, I had no jacket on, and I think I might get sick."
Her mother was quiet for a minute. Then she said the worst things Massie could ever hear.
"The day after tomorrow, you're staying with your Aunt Sandra. You're going to Westchester. I've already arranged it. You'll stay there as long as it takes for you to realize and repent for all your mistakes," her mother said coldly.
"What?! No! NO! You can't send me to Westchester! You have no right to do that!"
"Massie, you are my seventeen-year-old daughter. I have all the necessary right to do that."
(*)
Massie woke up, and the first thing she saw was the view of the sky from her window. It was a peaceful Sunday morning, and she felt like sleeping back in. Then she remembered what happened last night, and what was going to happen tomorrow. It wasn't such a peaceful Sunday morning anymore.
Then, she heard the music. It was Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven, one of the pieces she frequently used to play.
Did her mother take pleasure in seeing her so frustrated?!
She immediately got out of bed, and stormed out of her room. She reached the source of the music; her mother's DVD.
She angrily pressed the open button, and pulled out the CD. She stormed into the kitchen, where her little sister, Madison, was eating her cereal.
"Why'd you stop the music?" her mother asked casually, like she wasn't sending her own daughter away to a different zip code the next day.
"Cause I hate it," Massie said.
"I told you she wouldn't like it," Madison said, swallowing another spoonful of cereal.
"But I was just—"
"Mom, please, just stop. I will never, ever play the piano again, no matter how many times you try to convince me otherwise. I'm done with it. No more. Nobody in this house can play piano music while I'm here," she snapped, then remembered something. "Oh, wait. I'll be gone by tomorrow, so feel free to play every single sonata you have in this house!"
"You'll be gone by tomorrow? Where are you going?" Madison asked, alarmed that no one told her about this.
"Ask Mom," Massie said, before going back to her room, making sure to slam the door hard.
(*)
After she finished packing, she went out of her room to see her sister begging her mother for something. Her mother shot her a look, making it clear that she blamed Massie for what Madison wanted.
"She wants to go with you to Westchester," her mother said.
If Massie could love only one person, it would be Madison. She would do anything for Madison. Anything. Two years ago, at the height of her war with her mother, she used to think about getting emancipated then adopting Madison, leaving her mother alone. Sometimes, when she gets really mad at her mother, she would still think about that future. But she knows that Madison would never approve, seeing as Madison loves their mother. She was the only one who could get along with both people in the house.
"Schmaddie, come here," Massie said gently, leading her sister to her room. Then she noticed that Madison was actually sniffing and wiping away tears.
"I don't want you to go," Madison sniffed.
"Yes, Schmad, I know. But I have to go," Massie said. She thought she was only going to say that for Madison, but she immediately realized that it was true. She had to go; it was best for her mother and her to be separated, and Westchester wasn't that bad. She's been there a few times, when she visits her grandparents and cousins during holidays, and during…that time.
She hates talking about it.
Soon, she realized that she was actually looking forward to Westchester; yes, she would leave her sister behind, but if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that her mother would take care of her sister. Yes, she had to leave her friends behind, but she doubted any of them would really care. Massie had really crappy friends. Yes, she had no friends in Westchester except for her cousin, but she was positive that she would make at least one new friend there.
"I want to go," Massie said.
Okay, so I admit that that wasn't the best writing I've done, but it's not that horrible, right?
Still worth reading?