notes | okay - so this is probably not one of my OTP's, well actually, it's this ship that i just invented, and i reallyreally like them together, for some odd reason or another, so yeah, (:

dedication | for the coppertone wars' christmas challenge, level one, "write one fic about your OTP"

a little girl with big plans
MeenaChris

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Making through her way through high school doesn't turn out to be the best time of her life, though it was had been promised to be.

Sometimes, Meena closes her eyes, lying down on the soft grass outside, and in a rush, all of the memories come back — a warm breeze blows through the June air, turning the ambience into one more humid; leaves are already changing their colors and the light blue sky threatens to rain down quickly. Most of the other children are playing in the jungle gyms, sharing sips of fifth grade graduation's day lemonade and inhaling the refreshing scent of freedom; it's not much, but with the sun blazing down and the noisy sound of trucks and other construction vehicles across the street, it's all children could ask for. They spend their days, spinning the summer vacations away in the playgrounds, never once understanding the greater meaning of life and wasting time.

Looking back on those moments, she remembers when making friends was so much easier, and it hurts because she wants to go back in time and fix everything and stop being such an ugly, horrible person - but then again, she can't stop being herself, now can she? But, in a way, Meena knows that everything really has changed, and high school isn't for the better.

Amber ringlets, hints of violet seeping through the delicate pink exterior, lace wrapped around curls —she suspects something is wrong in this upper east side realm when she, the primadonna girl is laying on the floor, quarrels brought to a new level of extremity; Meena sees that the Queen Bee of Westchester has suddenly had a breakdown, and then her reputation lies in shatters upon the floor, and she realizes that if she doesn't build up her walls of security - castle walls so high that nobody could climb them - then she'll end up like the girl on the floor, nothing more than a reminder of what used to be.

summer break — seventh grade;

Ebony ringlets frame a flushed face, a natural glow of salt water causing an outbreak of acne on the left side of a chubby forehead, bright dark brown eyes, large ones that belonged to an innocent two year old, grin widely, as Meena spins around in the expanse of Isis's backyard, spinning and spinning under the warmth of the sun. Helena creeps up behind the two of them, spraying a water gun as the two laugh, screaming that this is war, spraying water back until all of them are soaked and fall, laughing maniacally on the green grass.

"This has been the best last day ever," Meena grins up at the sun, which shines down upon her as though everything in her new life will be just as brilliant as this one. A nervous thought runs through her mind as she turns over on her stomach, legs kicking back and forth, "Promise me that we'll always be best friends?"

"We will if you don't find someone better," Isis simply remarks, giggling a little as she looks through the scrapbook and it seems as though their friendship is nothing more than memories in a book even though they're all still here.

Meena laughs, mostly out of shock, "I could never find better friends than you, okay? Just promise, please?" And the four of them swear on everything that they hold holy — primarily bright orange gummy worms and the smell of vanilla and the taste of sugar cookies from Subway, savored on the tongue; and Rose's dragged away to another world, but she doesn't feel too bad as she fingers the candy bracelets dangling off her bony wrist.

Hours later, on a first class plane ride — something that she's never been on before, and something she's obviously excited about; Rishi and Meena give commands to the eager attendants of the Plovert's private plane ( a family that the Patel children aren't too sure about who their identity are; however, they just take everything for granted like the children that they are; but it might not be that way for too long), one of many, and it's hilariously wonderful, almost something that could be called the best day ever.

Rishi throws a raisin bunch at Meena's eyes; she screams that she's been shot, and attacks back. An hour later, they toast the beginning of a new age in true Patel style — with a bang.

august, the 30th — the back to school dance

It starts off like any other typical day — Meena rises at some godforsaken hour, trips over Beckham and Lily who both growl in response and falls flat on her face after the typical morning run, through the brambles and branches that scratch at her face. Running through the branches and the brambles, she almost frees herself from the tightness that has clung onto her worn frame ever since she had started school; all the pressure that came from a family of perfect siblings, perfect parents, perfect cousins, but she's not even sure what she truly wants.

For her birthday gift last year, her godfather gave her a mirror — The Mirror of Erised, she believes, ever the diehard Harry Potter fan— but she only laughed, and set it aside. When she looked in the reflection of the mirror, all she saw was herself yet for some godforsaken reason, Meena felt the slightest pang of sadness when nothing else showed up. It was almost as if somebody was sarcastically remarking about her; about how she had everything that a child could ever ask for, and she should be happy with it but it's not enough.

Meena is lucky that she doesn't have panic attacks. She takes a deep breath, breathing through her inhaler and wishing that today, out of all days, she hadn't had come running through the woods; it's still dark outside, and leaves start rustling in a frantic manner behind her.

It's only when a flock of black birds, which haven't come to this area of Westchester, she assures herself, and Meena takes a deep breath, before crashing into a tree, and breaking her glasses, which have already been dangling off her bony face for some time. "Hey, are you alright?" a male voice calls out, and Meena has to think a moment before pulling out a can of pepper spray and spraying it aimlessly, forever blinded by the loss of her glasses. "I'm Chris -

And then, she runs in the opposite direction.

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And, then there are the complications of high school;

Because being a person like Meena - it doesn't matter if you're failing one of your classes or if your friends can't understand that even though your mother died six months ago ( all the way back then ) it's still slightly annoying to bring up the subject of Mother's Day or if your father is getting married, again, and you don't think that you can handle any of this without having a breakdown - but Meena doesn't matter. She hasn't mattered for a long time, and she thinks sometimes that maybe she let that happen to herself, but not really.

People just sort of started taking her for granted until she was the person that everybody trusted their secrets with, asked questions about relationship advice to even though she had never had a boyfriend - and probably never would have - and it was even worse, because sometimes, she couldn't handle trying to be the caring friend, the person that always had to be nice to everybody. And if she had a bitchy moment?

Nobody would ever talk to her again. It was by pure luck that she had the number of friends that she currently has; of course, most of them only become "friends" with her based off of her reputation, but Meena can't help but feel sometimes that she wants real friends. Like those friendships that she reads in books and watches in the cinema between the two girls who are almost like sisters, but she doesn't deserve that, of course; if she can't even be nice to everybody, how can she expect everybody to be genuinely nice back to her?

But, it hurts, sometimes, because then there's problems with Claire; He decides that she's clingy within the first five minutes of meeting her; there are strawberry streaks in her white blonde hair, flashing in and out of places where she doesn't belong, wide blue eyes and a cherry heart-shaped face the ultimate pass. There are rumors of break-ups, and she can't help but feel as though she has to avoid him —forever. She's been hurt before, hurt thousands of times, thrown onto the ground and excluded from well, everything, and she just wonders if she has this loser gene, because why else would everybody would avoid her.

Where the he is most obviously Derrick Harrington, like usual, and she knows that she's supposed to feel happy and relieved for one of her best friends when the golden couple finally get back together, but it still hurts - seeing everybody so happy when she's dying inside. Meena's not sure if something's wrong with her, but maybe something like this, it's normal for teenagers.

She thinks this in the middle of a chemistry class, and realizes that it's not normal behavior. She's never been normal, no matter how hard she's tried to fit in with the rest of the crowd, but maybe Meena's made herself stand out, on purpose, in order to attract attention.

Like the time that she had written that fifteen page paper in AP World History - everybody had talked about her for the rest of the day, including the history teacher, and people kept on looking at her in awe, or maybe they were looking at her as if she was half insane, but it was a good day because the boy that she liked actually muttered a few words to her, and she couldn't ask for anything more than attention. So, she repeats the acts of overachieving and having to be the best until it just becomes her, and there's no remnants of a human being with an actual personality.

Or, at least, that's what everybody else thinks - almost everybody - until it's almost too late.

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Her parents - or what consists of a previously tight family, now reduced to an estranged father with this stepmother who doesn't understand anything about her new children, and a dead mother - insist about her joining math team. And, Meena's not really sure why she joins in the first place - she has a C in math, and barely cares about the subject, but maybe it's something about wanting to fulfill her mother's wishes after her death. Or maybe it's because there's this guy that she likes who's in math team, but it could be anything - so it doesn't really matter, she thinks to herself.

Meena walks through the doors of Math Team, this sort of small classroom with a slanted doorway and a menacing coach by the name of Mr. Venetico, who had been her seventh grade teacher through the gifted and talented program, back when she actually cared about education and being smart - genuinely cared, at least, without this excessive pretense - and she meets some people, some people who are sort of nice.

And then, everything happens in a blur.

And then, Chris Plovert - yes, the Chris Plovert somehow ended up in math team - asks her out because he's trying to make his ex-girlfriend jealous, and for some odd reason or another, Meena is stupid enough to say yes instead of punching him in the face, but oh, well. YOLO.

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"Meena, I don't really understand what you're saying," Claire Lyons says, pursing her cherry red lips; knowing Claire, those might have been actual cherries smeared. "Chris Plovert asked you out?" Meena nods; Claire continues, "As in . . . the Chris Plovert?"

She takes a sigh, ready to deliver a whole set of lectures on how it's actually not that unexpected that things like that could happen, even though it's quite unrealistic and Meena's still getting used to the whole thing, the whole processes of falling in love and wondering when her first heartbreak would come; they hadn't even been on their first date yet and he had already called her the girlfriend which was awfully sweet of him, judging by his previous reputation but then again Meena wasn't exactly one to judge covers but then again that was how they had met in the first place— of course that's all a lie, and he's only going out with her to make Dylan Marvil jealous, but still, Meena's going to pretend to the best of her ability.

Meena didn't need to respond; Claire had fainted dead away.

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notes | so that was more sad angsty meenacentric stuff than an otp but my one true pairing would have to be [insert clique character here/angst] okay this sucks bye