WARNING!!!
This story features some heavy drunk teenagers, some excessive Irma-bashing-Caleb, and even MORE spitting at Cornelia. It DOESN'T feature Taranee. She has nothing to do with the plot, and I can't help but make her boring. Maybe I'm just not cut out to write nerd.
Even more, Irma rocks beyond awesome, so if you won't respect that, go away. Also, Irma/Matt is a love waiting to happen, so don't spite me with your canonish blues. I don't believe in canon. I believe in soul-mating and bickering. Hence my love for Will/Caleb and Irma/Matt/Cornelia, anyway.
The true plot bunnies will appear later; this is more of an introduction.
Now READ IT.
Phobia
Chapter one: Introduction
Once Irma Lair entered 9th grade, her life got really… weird.
Not weird in the sense that involved supernatural powers and strange murderers on the run. She had that covered already.
Not weird in the way that involved her being the unfortunate lackey of Cornelia, the Mean Queen herself, no. Irma was one of the few people sane enough to run screaming if the matters came to the worst.
No, weird in the way that involved being the best friend of a rebel leader, and being the lead groupie of every single band in town, to quote Will. But it wasn't her fault. Really.
Will also said (two years later, though, when Irma made a mistake and let her get too low on sugar…) that life was a bitch, between two looong sighs and chair-kicking. And that Hay Lin's closet contained suspicious amount of leather, chains and spikes for a creative, 16 years old girl she "was". And that every second Irma's thought was out of sexual frustration.
"It is not" Irma replied, offended. "It's every third one. And it's not my fault there are so much cute guys around."
Will gave her a sarcastic look. "Last week you said that my doorknob was sexilicious."
"It is" Irma assured her, wide eyed. "You're just narrow minded."
So let's not quote Will, shall we. The fact that she's Hay Lin's and Irma's best friend is pretty suspicious in itself. No sane person would ever choose their friends that recklessly.
However this does not change the fact that Irma was in 11th grade by now, still the manager of the school's radio, and as of lately a part of school's council.
"It's your fault" Will explained casually, while the two were waiting inside the school's toilet. "No one forced you to apply."
"It's Cornelia's fault" Irma defended herself. "She said I couldn't do it, so I naturally had to apply…"
"Hey" Cornelia protested, applying her mascara carefully, "I wouldn't pose a bet with you had I thought they'd be crazy enough to actually choose you. I mean, where is this world going?"
But that was when Irma tackled her, and when Cornelia accidentally jabbed herself in the eye with her mascara, as Irma explained later. Really, it wasn't her fault Cornelia couldn't apply makeup to save her life.
Will and Hay Lin waited for her outside the office.
"You do know you just let out the most shameless lie in the history of lying?" Hay Lin asked seriously, stroking her black hair.
Irma shrugged. "What, I didn't kill her. And besides, she is Cornelia. Jabbing her eye was going easy on her."
Will let out a small sigh of desperation.
"I have to go, English class awaits me. And for crying out loud, Irma, I can't let you kill Cornelia. Who would we snap on then?"
Irma and Hay Lin watched her as she got out of the sight.
"You know" Irma said thoughtfully "She has a point."
And that was about where our story starts. It was a freezing October day, one of those where every normal parent would just let his daughter sleep in or at least give her a cup of warm chocolate before letting her out on the snowstorm.
But not Tom Lair, nooo. So Irma found herself fighting the raging snowstorm, equipped with only a thin, flashing-turquoise hat, some random winter-clothes, and yellow boots.
"Don't. Say. A. Word." She warned Cornelia dangerously when the girls met outside their Math class. Alright, so Hay Lin's and Irma's Math class. Cornelia stood there for some yet to be known reason, altogether with her bunch of brainless lackeys… pardon, friends. Probably because she was being a bitch and tormenting Hay Lin into sewing her another dress.
The blonde pouted, but said nothing. Irma seemed to be in a very killing mood. A very Cornelia killing mood.
Hay Lin, on the other hand, smiled sadly at Irma.
"Will's doing her extra-credit French homework. Again. She's been here since about six AM… I'm getting worried for her, really."
Irma just sighed and removed the soaked hat.
"Let's just get to class."
"Oh right. Irma, for crying out loud, who gave you the right to boss everyone around so?"
"Let's just say I learned from the best" Irma retorted airily, smiling at her blonde "friend". Not that they weren't friends, but ever since last year's event, she wasn't quite sure whether it was just a sweetened rivalry or true friendship…
Cornelia scowled at her.
"Aw shut up already. Let's go, Michelle. Tracy."
Irma watched in bemusement as two ratty-looking cheerleaders trailed after Cornelia, one redhead and one brunette, dressed to match her clothes.
"My god" she said to Hay Lin finally, when she was done gaping. "Cornelia clones. Kill me."
"You know, three two words sentences in a row are quite surely the proof of unintelligence" the Chinese girl said thoughtfully, as they took their sits in English class. "Don't you ever study?"
"I do so!" Irma frowned at her. "I am good at Art, and drama, and…"
"…all your advanced classes" Hay Lin finished, and then gave her a sorry look. "Irma, we're in our sophomore year."
Irma raised her head to look at her skeptically.
"Okay, okay, I surrender" she muttered into her friends jacket. "You were all nerdified. Will's doing extra credit, you're holding the Lecture hour… GOD DAMNIT you're betraying me to Cornelia!"
Hay Lin patted her on the shoulder with a friendly smile.
'Now, now Irma. I'm sure you'll find someone who's retar… I mean, who's not interested in academic success like you."
There were several reasons why Irma hated being Caleb's best friend. For example, he was absolutely convinced she had hots for him.
I mean, seriously. Sure he was a hot bastard, but she would never go where Cornelia's been before.
"I thought you knew me!" Irma wailed, betrayed, when he first implied something like that. "Eww! EWW!"
Or the fact that he insisted they brought Matt with them every time they went horse-riding, or exterminating gremlins in Meridian, or when he trained her in sword fighting.
Irma never particularly liked Matt. He was one of them stuck up jock people, then he was one of them stupid-but-funny rock people, and after a while she realized she just didn't like him. He changed his ways too often.
AND he annoyed her, too. She was supposed to be the one interested in music and stage. She was supposed to be the reflector-master.
But Matt stole the other half of the spotlight. Miss Knickerbocker seemed to be very keen on the idea of yin and yang – even when it was just about the schools radio – and appointed Matt to roleplay the male half.
If only Irma wasn't butch enough to kick him out.
Matt didn't complain though, so Irma thought he must've been gay. I mean what kind of guy doesn't complain when a girl gets the sports section, the news section, the ever-dreaded poser section (also known as the Goth part, served at Fridays)? What was wrong with him?
She gave up when she realized how magically popular music and film section had become once he stepped in. Gay Matt or not, the radio became the center of attention. She worked her lungs out to best him after that; she spent countless nights working on her success, and finally she was the one to get the prize for the Most Popular Schieffildian of the year, much to Cornelia's dismay.
But she was still unhappy, because the one person she wanted to be disappointed, just didn't care.
Returning to reality, Irma added a new reason to her "Why I Should Stop Hanging Out With Caleb" list. Because not only did he bring Matt with them – he dared not show up and still let Matt go.
"Hi, Irma!"
"Could you kindly stop being so cheerful?" Irma spat ungracefully. "I am TRYING to be miserable here!"
Matt raised an eyebrow (or two, she wasn't quite sure; his stupid bangs covered half of his face. Idiot.) "But, Irmsy, you're always miserable" he pointed out. "You shouldn't frown so much, you'll wrinkle."
Irma hit him with her doughnut bag halfheartedly, and all the doughnuts fell in the mud.
"… or just get a high quality nerve tonic."
"I hate you. So. Much."
Why hadn't she left? She was soaked to the bone, and cold, and her doughnuts were muddy and forgotten at the middle of the road, and she had a very tall, green-eyed no-good bastard to beat up at Hay Lin's place. So why hadn't she?
Maybe, well, because Matt was pretty funny – and the only person who'd actually sing the end of a chorus when she started humming – and he apparently had three tickets for a new Karmilla concert in his wallet – but she'd never admit that out loud.
That didn't explain how she'd found herself on a rollercoaster with him though.
"WOOHOO!" Matt yelled enthusiastically. The boy seemed to take the winter carnival slogan Scream your lungs out to heart. Needless to say, didn't do Irma's sensitive artistic ears much good.
"SHUTTUP, LOWLIFE!"
"WOOHOO!"
She half-expected something cheesy to happen – like the rollercoaster getting stuck at the top, so she'd be forced to do something stupid like witness the sunset with this monkey by her side and everyone would think they're a couple and she'd officially be forced to go into hiding under a false name – but it didn't. They arrived safely (pummeled, in Matt's case, but with no injuries worse than a swollen eye) back to earth, and Irma found herself wondering whether this counted as a date, because if that was the case, she'd have to jump off the first bridge she saw.
And then she realized that in whole her life – other than a fake night-out with Martin, but that hopefully didn't count – she's never been on a date. And now she was seriously enjoying spending time with her best friend's ex - not in that way, but still it was a sort of betrayal.
"Hmpf" she muttered. "I'm going now. Don't follow."
Matt looked at her weirdly.
"What's with being emo all of the sudden?"
Irma just knocked her head further down.
"Do you know why I
hate you so much?"
"…NO."
"Because of Will. Now leave me alone, go back to your happy go lucky band or what not. Write a song named "I'm a jerk", tape it on your forehead, do what you want – just, until you admit you were wrong and apologize to her, I will hate you."
When she continued walking down the street, Matt didn't follow. He remained in snow, scratching his head.
How was he supposed to know Will wasn't, in fact, in love with his best friend, anyway?
There goes first chapter. From now on, things will get better; I will present the real plot, Cornelia will call on how great parents she and Matt would be (U for Undivided, anyone?) and so on. Also Will will get a chance to bicker with Caleb. :D
As for what Matt thinks, no one cares. He will so be Irma's lovetoy, and you know it.
Other than that, How to murder Destiny will be updated soon. Also, check out the award forum - you have a link in my profile; vote for your favorite fic! It's time to voice our opinion! (Yes, I'm hysteric).
Review!