Authors Note: This is my first try at a S.O.T.T.P fanfic. i usually write Harry Potter and Twilight. So please read and please please please review. Even if you dislike it.
I Also do not own anything Sisterhood Of The Travelling Pants
If you havent read the last book yet, then i suggest not going forth. There are some major spoilers.Oh and also, if all you did was watch the second movie then this will probably not make much sense to you.
Bridgets Diary.
August 04th
i can't believe how incredibly dark i have gotten the past 3 weeks, its crazy. The sun that glistens down on this place really is quite nice yet my hair gets matted to the back of my darkened neck each second im at one of the excavation sights, putting my everything into it all. I recently aquired some ducktape and paper and plan to sooner or later to send my lovely carmabella the pants along with a picture of my new boyfriend, who i havent exactly yet named. But yet, he is very attractive. And as well happens to be a skull aged 4000 years old. Most people would hate the gruesome gruelling work, but as you already know, that is not within my character. Something about it, the sun hitting my back, almost feels as if its entering my very core, burning me up to the top.
As much as i love it here, i have to admit the loss of having my family around me pulls at me in every negative way. And by family, you do know that i am referring to my lovelies. Carmen, Tibby, and Lena.
La Dee Daa, what to write about. Oh YES! i know. So Peter.Pita.Petaaa.Petur.Petar.Peeter. Nice man. Nice, smart man. Nice, smart, attractive MAN. Which i guess is alright considering that i am 18 now, but oh no no. I am taken by my one and only. Eric. But lately it doesnt really seem like that. I havent spoken to him in over 3 weeks and for the first time since the time i first met him, his face is starting to fade from my memory. Who knows, maybe its because i'm meeting new men here. New 4000 year old aged dead men who have nothing left of them except for a skull. Haha. No really. I know it partially is because i've been spending every waking day digging through sand and holding a dusting brush and during my nighttime hours when i am in the comfort of my actually really uncomfortable cot, thinking about once again the endless sand. And Peter. Pretty 30 year old Peter. There isnt much i've enquired about him yet except for the simple fact that he teaches and likes the "endless dream of the flowing sand..." to quote him precisely. I do however know that his chocolate eyes burn a hole straight to my middle and that the dip of his neck that reaches his collarbone creates a scorching pool between me.
We cant always have what we cant, but then again, who said i cant? I mean theres Eric. And i do really truly love Eric and would never do anything to deliberatly hurt him. And the truth of it all i that i know what it feels like to go after something that you want. Or in all of my cases, someones. Just my luck, they never turn out great, at least at the beginning. So if all i can get out of pretty Peter is a friendship for the next 32 days, then i will be fine with that in all ways.