Author's Note: I was so happy that I actually got reviews on my first story that I decided to write anther, much shorter one. It's a bit more lighthearted, and I tried my best. So here it is…
Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi. If I did…I bet it would suck…
CRANES
Today, I was going to Clare's house, and I was very excited. I've been in her house many times before, but this time was different…Her parents weren't home, which meant that I could go in her room. When her parents were home, they would barely let me inside. They don't really like me because I had dinner with them once and Clare made me look bad on purpose. But today, they could not stop me from finally seeing her room.
I always wondered what was inside her room. What color are the walls? Are they a girly pink like her cheeks usually were, a sunny yellow to match her disposition, or a baby blue that complimented her eyes? Is it neat like her handwriting and organized like her binder? Does she have a lot of posters or pictures on the walls, and of who (As long as Munro Chambers wasn't on one of them, I would be okay. Those Munro fan-girls are kind of…creepy)? How many books does she have, and what types (I already know that there will be some Fortnight books, but what else?)? Does she have a single bed or a double bad (Don't take that the wrong way, I'm just honestly curious)? And most importantly, does she feel right about me being in there? I think she does, considering she was the one who invited me over when her parents just happened to have a meeting with a realtor to attend.
So I drove to her house in Morty and knocked on the door. I waited a minute and knocked again. No answer. So I knocked again, louder this time, and waited two minutes before knocking again. After five minutes, I started to worry and called her cell phone. No answer. So I called her home phone. Once again, no one answered. So I decided to just walk in to make sure that nothing was wrong. I tried to calm myself, but I felt my heart pounding and my hands starting to sweat. I climbed up the stairs to her room quietly. When I got to the top, I realized that I didn't know which room was Clare's. She didn't have a sign (or a lock, like me) on her door, so there was no way to tell hers from the others. So I tried the first door on the right. It was a bathroom. I was tempted to check what Clare's favorite lotions and scrubs and shampoos were (just in case I didn't know what to get her for our six-month anniversary), but I refrained. I tried to open the next door, but it was locked. So I tried the next door. It was Clare's. I could tell because Clare was sitting on the bed in that room screaming because she was scared that a burglar was opening her bedroom door.
"Calm down, Clare!" I shouted, "It's just me!"
"Oh. Sorry!" she blushed, "You just scared me for a minute."
"You and me both. You wouldn't answer the door or the phone. I thought something happened to you."
"Nothing happened. I was just sitting here, listening to some music." She gestured toward the headphones that I had given her a few months ago. I couldn't help but smile.
"Whatcha listenin' to?" I questioned, "Ke$ha? Eminem? JUSTIN BIEBER?"
"Haha. Very funny," she replied, "But actually, I'm listening to 'Paisley Jacket'."
"Really?" I said excitedly, lighting up. I bet I liked like a five-year old girl who just met Barney for the first time.
"Yeah. Listen with me." She took the headphones off and held them beside her head and gestured for me to sit on her bed, which I did.
"So how do you like it?"
"It's actually pretty good. Better than Ke$ha's 'Blow'. At least they're singing. And NOT all about glitter."
"I'm glad you like it." I was glad that we finally had at least one thing in common. I took the time that the song was playing to look around her room. The walls were light green and free of posters. Her room was very neat and organized, especially her bookshelf full of a large variety or books. Her single bed had lighter green sheets, but a darker green comforter, "You're not like most teenage girls." I commented.
"Why not?" she asked curiously.
"Well, first off, your room is CLEAN."
"My mom is SUPER strict when it comes to having a clean house. She's the head of this important group at my church, so they have meetings here sometimes. She cares a LOT about what they think, so we have to have a perfect house at ALL times."
"And your walls are bare. I thought that part of being a teenager is your need to express yourself, as in express you undying desires to make out with Taylor Loter all over your room in the form of posters."
"Okay, first of all, it's LAUTNER. And second of all, I like vampires better than werewolves. And third of all, I just never felt the need to do that. I express myself enough in everything else I do."
"And also…"
"The cranes?"
"The what?" I asked confusedly.
"The cranes."
"What cranes?"
"You didn't notice?"
"I don't…think so."
"Well, look up and you'll notice."
So I looked up. And just like she said, there were the cranes. Hundreds of paper cranes of all different sizes and colors were hanging from the ceiling. I gasped.
"What…what are these? Why are there so many?"
"They're origami paper cranes. I made them all."
"Why?"
"Because they're addictive."
"That makes no sense."
"I'm serious!"
"What, is the paper made with crack or something?"
"No! Just..making them…once you start, you can't stop"
"So folding paper is ADDICTIVE?"
"Surprisingly, yes. Wanna try making one?"
"I'm good."
"Come on, I'll show you! It's easy!"
"Fine…" I sighed.
"Yay!" she squealed. Then, she took out two pieces of computer paper and handed one to me.
"Wait…what about that fancy paper that you used for all the cranes on the ceiling?" I asked.
"You're not ready for that."
"Why not?"
"I save that paper for the…pretty cranes."
"So you're saying that I won't make pretty cranes?"
"No, you will! It's just…your first few probably won't be very pretty."
"I'll show you! My first crane will be terrific! And you'll wish that I used the fancy paper!" So I tried making the crane. It was simple. All I had to do was fold the paper in half. Then there were a few weird folds, but I handled those well after I watched Clare a few times. But then came the petal fold, and after that, I was completely lost. But after dozens of tries, I was finally sure that I got it right and continued on and finished the crane. I held my work up to her, pride radiating from me. Clare held up my crane and started giggling.
"Why are you laughing?" I asked, confused.
"Because your crane has two heads!" she laughed.
"What? No it doesn't!"
"Yes it does! See?" I looked at it closely, and saw them.
"Ugh!" I sighed.
"Eli!" she assured me, grabbing my shoulder, "It's fine! That happens to most people on their first try!"
"Really? Did it happen to you?"
"On my second try."
"Why did it turn out like that?"
"You made a wrong fold near the end. But it's okay, I can fix it for you." And so she did, and handed it back to me, looking at me expectantly.
"What?"
"Well, sign it." She handed me a Sharpie. And I signed my name.
"Good. Your first crane. Yay for you!" She clapped.
"Great. Are we done?"
"No. You have to make more!"
"Really?"
"Yes. Unless you DON'T wanna stay here in my room."
"Fine." So we kept making cranes, and I slowly got better and better at them. After two hours, it was like a second nature to me. I was almost as fast as Clare.
"Alright. My parents will be home in a few minutes, so you have to leave."
"Wait! Just one more!"
"Told you it was addictive!"
"I can't believe I'd be this accustomed to folding paper."
"I didn't either, at first…OH! And now feel your fingertips!"
"Why?"
"Just do it." So I did.
"Whoa!" I exclaimed, "How did they get so…SOFT?"
"Cranes." She shrugged.
"That is so cool…and weird."
"Yeah…but you have to go now. My parents…"
"Wait. One question."
"What?"
"Why did you start doing this?"
"Well…" she sighed, "It's a long story."
"Then tell it quickly."
"Okay…so one night a few weeks ago, my parents were fighting about who knows what and it was really loud. I was starting to get really angry, so I went online and looked up some ways to relax. I tried yoga, but I'm not flexible and I almost sprained my ankle. So then I tried origami. And it worked. When my parents really start to irritate me, I just go up to my room and make some cranes. It almost…clears my mind."
"Oh…that's…cool."
"No. It's okay. I know it's weird."
"No, it's…" I was interrupted with the sound of the front door opening. Crap.
"Crap!" Clare exclaimed "You need to leave!"
"How? Where?"
"I don't know! The back door?"
"How do I get there without your parents hearing me?"
"I don't know!" Just then, Mrs. Edwards turned the knob to the door and opened it.
"Clare. Why are you talking to yourself? And why is there a hearse outside of the…ELI?"
"Mom! It's not what it looks like!"
"CLARE DIANA EDWARDS! WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT HAVING PEOPLE IN THE HOUSE WHEN I'M NOT HOME? AND WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT HAVING BOYS IN YOUR ROOM?"
"I'm sorry, mom, but.."
"NO BUTS! ELI! LEAVE! NOW!"
"Yes Mrs. Edwards. I'm very sorry. It will never happen again."
"You got that right! Now stop trying to suck up to me and get your butt OUT of my daughter's room!" So I quickly backed out and began walking down the steps, but I continued to listen to Clare and her mom argue.
"CLARE! You are in SO much trouble, young lady! You already know that we don't approve of Eli, and then I see you ALONE in your room with him? What were you two doing?"
"Nothing, mom! Just making cranes!"
"I don't understand the lingo today! What does that actually mean?"
"Exactly what it is! Making cranes!"
"Clare, I wasn't born yesterday. I KNOW what teens do when their parents are gone. Now just be mature and tell me exactly what you were doing, and you may not be in as much trouble."
"MOM! WE WERE FOLDING PAPER CRANES! THAT'S ALL!"
"Fine. If you refuse to tell the truth now, we'll just wait until your father is back from the pizza place to discuss this."
"BUT…"
"Stay in your room until he gets back, and we can talk as a family." I heard Clare huff and the bed squeak as she sat on it. Then I heard Mrs. Edwards leave the room and begin walking down the stairs, which I was not finished descending.
"ELI! What are you still doing here?"
"We really were making cranes."
"LEAVE!" she growled. And I ran out the door.
And that was the last time I've talked to Clare's mother. I've been too afraid to face her since…
Author's Note: I thought that was…okay. The whole cranes idea probably would have fit better with Fiona dealing with alcohol, but I love Eclare, so they got the story. Pretty random, right? But some people like that. So once again, feel free to tell me how to suck less using that blue button down below. You don't have to but I would smile big if you did. :-D