(: Read and Review. Updated on: 1/24/14
I sighed, sluggishly walking down the sunny streets of Tranquility, California. I was pushing my neon orange bike alongside me, my patched-up messenger bag heavily hitting my thigh with every step I took. My poor, battered bag was filled with order forms and catalogs. I go to a Catholic School, and since our government funding was around twenty dollars, us students not only had to pay an arm and a lung in tuition, but also had to march around like brainless monkeys, going door to door selling random crap.
These god forsaken catalogs have everything from kitten calendars, bacon scented soap, collectable toys, and even bulk foods made for those underground nuclear bomb shelters, like the ones from the 50's.
I'll admit I did order that giant chocolate bar.
I shook my head, reminding myself of my goal. I needed to sell something by the time I made it home! I gave myself a dorky little fist pump as I moseyed on up to the first house on the street. I'd been all over my god forsaken neighborhood, and I've barley sold a thing. The only things I've sold were a few rolls of wrapping paper to that hoarding woman across the street and a puppy calendar to that creepy old man...I think he only bought it because I almost started crying.
I scratched my head, shrugging as I rang the doorbell and shifted my bike against my hip. It was so hot today that I couldn't bring myself to ride my bike any longer in the afternoon heat. The school made all of us students sell this junk in our uniforms: a pristine white polo shirt, a knee length grey skirt, black tights and black ballet shoes. I had forgone the tights, thrown on some black ankle socks, rolled up my skirt a little, and rolled up the sleeves of my polo, but I was still baking inside my own skin.
I waited on the porch for my next customer to answer the door, sweating my ass off.
Wow...I do complain a lot.
I twitched a little as an elderly man came to the door, wearing only a Dorothy costume from the Wizard of Oz. I ran my shaking hand through my sweaty hair. In shock, I dropped one of my many catalogs and order forms in front of him and began to back away slowly.
"You...you just keep that…and send any orders in to...Holy Crusader High School...thanks." I said slowly, hoping that no scarecrow, lion, or tin men would hop out and try to drag me inside. I practically sprinted down his walkway and began to fast walk down the street. As soon as I heard his door close, I sighed in relief.
Deciding that that was the final straw of the day, I started walking back down the road, heading back towards my house. My cousin lived a few blocks away from me, and my father and I recently moved here to be closer to her, and my aunt and uncle. I made one last stop at the house directly across the street from mine, only because they hadn't answered their door earlier on my route.
I slowly waddled up the driveway, eying the gorgeous yellow Camaro sitting pristinely in the driveway. I eyed it like it was the last thing on earth. It was a marvel, even though it looked like it had seen better days and better paintjobs.
"Whoever owns this...is one lucky bitch." I whispered, too nervous to running even a single finger over the hood as I passed. I lent my bike up against the side of the house as I closed in on the front door. I knocked, and began rocking on my heels as I waited. After a minute or so, a boy around my age answered the door. He had short, dark curly hair and dark blue-brown eyes.
"H-hey...can I help you?" He asked shakily as I raised my brow at him. He looked like someone had just threatened to tazer him. I noticed a thin layer of sweat dotting his forehead, but I could tell the air-conditioning in the house was on based on the cool sweep of air that graced my sweaty form when he opened his front door. Was he scared of door-to-door sales girls?
Yes sir, be terrified of the five-foot-two sales girl wearing a catholic school uniform.
"I live 'cross the street. Just wanted to say hi, and maybe plunder you." I said with a shrug, hoping I could win him over with some of my strange humor.
"Plunder?" He asked, his eyes widening. I laughed at the horrified look on the poor guy's face. He needed a drink, or maybe a tranquilizer.
"Calm down, twitch. I just have some crap catalogs filled with random stuff. Private schools have the crappiest funding, ya' know." I said, rolling my eyes. The boy chuckled, seemingly taking a deep breath and relaxed against the side of his door.
"I'm Sam."
"Katelynn." I said, holding my hand out and shaking his hand. Sam spied one of the many catalogs that were sticking out of my messenger bag and smiled.
"And what would you recommend, from your catalog of random crap?" He said, leaning further against the doorway. My thoughts automatically shot out of my mouth. That's what you get when you have absolutely no filter.
"Chocolate. There's a giant ten pound chocolate bar, which I may have ordered myself." I said, grinning. Sam chuckled, patted his back pocket, and frowned a bit. He stepped out onto the porch and closed the front door behind him.
"C'mon, I left my wallet out in the garag-AHHHHH!" Sam screamed as he stepped down the walkway, straight into the beautiful yellow Camaro. I blinked, confused at his horrified reaction, and tilted my head.
"I know, the damn car's gorgeous. No need to shout." I said, watching as my new found customer began breathing heavily. Sam raked his shaking hands through his curly hair and pulled. He began sweating, his dark eyes wide in horror.
"SATAN'S CAMARO!" Sam shouted, pointing at the car. Just as I was about to call him crazy, the car's engine suddenly turned on and revved all on its own. Sam ran away, almost knocking me over in the process, and proceeded to grab my bike! He began pedaling down the street at break neck speed, and the driverless Camaro, backed out of the driveway and sped after him.
"GET BACK HERE, SAM!" I screamed, noticing a pink bike right inside his garage. Why'd he have to steal my bike when he had a perfectly good one about a foot away! Furious at the theft of my bike, which wasn't even mine, it was my fathers; I mounted the girlie pink bike and began pedaling after the bike thief and the driverless Camero.
I wiped my forehead, sweat beginning to drip down into my eyes after a few short minutes of heavy pedaling. I was thankful of the black running shorts I had put on under my skirt as the wind whipped up the grey fabric multiple times. I saw Sam ahead of me take a sharp turn, somehow evading the Camero, but it was hot on his tail. I gasped as he crashed, falling off my bike and smashing his stupid face into the concrete, right in front of a familiar looking girl. I screeched to a stop right in front of the mangled pile of Sam and my thankfully undestroyed bike.
"Mikaela Banes?" I asked, hopping off my stolen bike. I grabbed mine off the ground, ignoring Sam as he twitched in pain. The girl's big, blue eyes widened and a friendly smile crossed her face.
"Katelynn Banghart? She asked, as Sam hauled himself onto his scratched elbows.
"You know her?" Sam managed to whimper out as he got into a sitting position.
"Mikaela used to go to Sunday school with me. Our last names were right next to each other in alphabetical order and the sisters always sat us alphabetically. Now, shut it, you thief of bikes." I said, turning to glare at him. Sam cringed and shrugged, quickly looking over his shoulders for his devil car stalker.
"You haven't changed at all." Mikaela smirked, slugging my shoulder. I snorted.
"Long time no see, girl. Been missin' ya'." I smiled, earning a similar smile from the dark haired beauty.
"You've still got those creepy eyes." She laughed, as I covered up my left eye and pretended to be insulted. My right eye was a bright blue, while my left was a light hazel; a side effect from being a premature baby.
Just as we were all about to have a nice chat, Sam yelped. We heard the rev of an engine, and the demon car came racing from nowhere towards us. Sam grabbed the pink bike and began speeding down the street. I sighed, as Mikaela fished out the keys for her moped.
"We're going after him…aren't we?" I asked, rolling my eyes. I was just happy that he didn't take my bike again.
"Of course." Mikaela said, as I sighed and mounted my bike.