Here is a quick oneshot I had in a dream the other night. Ignore the typos and the fact that, no matter how hard I try, I cannot keep a story in one tense. Enjoy.
Just another snowy April day. Typical. The stupid global warming prolonged our summer, but now we're making up for it in short blizzards. Forecast for today: flurries, off-key singers, and more flurries.
That's how the story started; with snow. Actually it started about three or four days ago when it was coincidentally, snowing. I was talking to Kid Blink, a.k.a. the love of my life, on instant messenger trying to have him look past my younger age of one year and see what a great, funny, upbeat, attractive, girl I could be. Have you ever tried to make yourself seem attractive on instant messenger? It just might be the hardest thing to do without making yourself appear desperate or (God forbid) stalker-like.
See, Blink was leaving for England on the school trip later in the week and honestly, I was depressed. Really super loads depressed. School just wouldn't be the same without him there, cracking a joke while managing to stay upright in his bent back chair, and I would be like a six year old school girl crying over her lost love. Knee socks and all.
The conversation wasn't going very well. He didn't seem to like my plan of riding a train two hours to see my brother, who is studying in England for a semester, and giving him money to come home. I told Blink that he would have to bring snacks because two hours is an awfully long train ride, and there would be no in-flight movie. I didn't care how stupid I sounded. I was practically desperate for him to love me back. The tête-à-tête ended in a huff with him comparing me to Joe Stalin and many other "annoyances." I never knew I resembled a Russian murderer. That's something to put in my job description.
So here was where we currently stood, or in this case sat, in chorus practice. Three days a week during fifth period. It's quite an honor to get into chorus in high school. The auditions are nerve racking and heart pounding, and once you manage to sing a few scales for the director, Mr. Bales, he questions you on your previous musical experience and abilities. One wrong answer could get you out of the running for a spot in chorus. Thankfully, Blink was gifted with a dreamy mellow-tone voice, while mine was just Okay. My brother, currently in England, was in chorus five years before me and was one of Mr. Bale's favorites. My spot was secure.
I kept glancing over toward the bass section over at Blink. He doesn't look like himself today. He continuously ran his fingers through his sandy blonde hair almost in a stressed manner. What was up? His foggy blue eyes looked like they couldn't decide whether they should concentrate on the current piece of music we were singing, or on Mr. Bales, or on the new piano teacher from France. Apparently French pianists are "in." Who knew?
My outfit was extra cute today for the lone fact that today would be the last day that Blink saw me before he left for England tomorrow. I had my prized designer jeans on with black flats and a low cut purple top with a pink camisole underneath. I even straightened my thick brown hair and then curled different parts to give a certain wavy look to it. Truth be told, I looked hott, just for today, and just for him.
Finally nearing the end of the practice, Blink decided to glance over at me periodically, give me a small glare, and then he would look back at his music. What was his deal? I kept returning the glares, playing along, though he wasn't playing. I could tell. I tried the verbal approach. I whispered over at him when he looked at me hissing, "What?" He would shake his head and look at the clock. How much longer until lunch? Then I could hide in the band room with my normal friends and forget about stupid Kid Blink. My whispering didn't do me any good. Mr. Bales was finally fed up with our not-so-silent bickering.
"Hewlett, Parker, whatever you two are attempting to discuss, do it outside of my chorus room,"
Just great. I glared over at Blink a final time before setting my folder on my chair and walked, slightly stomped, out of the room.
I turned around to see Blink close the door behind him and finally face me. He looked even more stressed and ran his fingers through his hair yet again. Secretly I wished I could run my fingers through his short golden locks, but then we'd be in an entirely different situation now wouldn't we?
He finally looked down at me, and I silently hoped I would grow about 5 inches in the next 10 seconds so I could look down on him. What exactly was he thinking at this very moment? He certainly wasn't thinking about how sexy the new piano teacher was.
"Well?" I said after the awkward silence.
"Well what?" he replied.
"What's wrong with you? Glaring over at me and getting me all frustrated and what not. Can't you just be normal and smile at people instead of shoot them death marks?"
"Are you kidding me? Don't you know by now?"
"I'm getting tired of the question game, Blink. This isn't Whose Line," I replied.
Oh I'm good.
"Let's get one thing straight. I wasn't glaring at you-"
"So then you were trying to break the windows with your awful staring? Because that's the only thing behind me you know. And if the windows were gone, it'd get just a wee bit nippy with the current blizzard don't you think?" I interrupted.
"Will you just let me finish? God," he snapped. I don't care if this guy is an ass. I love him with all of his horrible grammar, habits, and smart remarks. He wouldn't be Kid Blink without them. What was his real name anyways? Something-Parker. I could go to Attendance and ask them, but they're always dancing around the desks with their late 70's funk on. One too many calories added up on those old ladies and the music isn't the only thing that "flubs" around. No kid ever wants to go anywhere near Attendance.
"Don't you get it Violet? I'm leaving for England tomorrow!" he finished. How was I supposed to get it? England: country in the UK, people drink a lot of tea, has guys with big black fuzzy hats guarding doors and stuff. Sure, I get it.
Wrong.
"So you're upset you're leaving and you decide to take it out on me? Personally, I'd love to get out of this stupid city, so I can't see why you're so sour," I told him.
"But I'm leaving," he pressed on.
This kid couldn't make a point if a needle stabbed him in the butt.
"And?"
"And, I'm going to…you know…miss…you," he mumbled.
"I'm sorry…what was that?" I pretended not to hear. Was this happening? I only dreamt something like this would happen to me. Blink caring? About me?
"Damn it, Violet. I'm going to freaking miss you while I'm gone!" he practically yelled.
"Oh yeah?" I challenged.
"Yeah!" he now yelled.
"Well Mr. Parker, it just so happens…that I'm going to miss you too. So there!" I yelled back. My two year old attitude was creeping in. Right now, I didn't care.
In the drama lingo, this moment in time would be called a beat, which means a pause. This one was full of tension and confusion. Both Blink and I were breathing heavier than normal. He locked his blue eyes with my hazel ones and in one quick movement he cupped his hand behind my neck and pulled me into him, roughly planting his lips upon mine.
My arms hung stupidly by my sides when I suddenly became aware of my surroundings, which were Blink. My hands hit his chest, pushing him away from me, breaking the heated kiss.
"What do you think you're doing?" I asked in a quite shaken voice.
He let out a long slow breath and leaned back against the chorus room door.
"I don't know," he replied.
Wait. Why did I just shove him away? Don't I love Blink? Yes, I love Blink! I do, I do! Only one way to settle this then.
I walked over to him and grabbed the front of his polo shirt with the biggest smirk on my face. His look of bewilderment suddenly softened as I pulled him towards me to kiss him again. This time the kiss was slow and full of wanting. I let my arms slowly snake around his neck, smiling into the kiss while he smiled back and encircled his arms around my waist. How long had we stayed like that? A few seconds or minutes? How many kids with fake bathroom passes had walked by? Neither of us knew. We were a tad preoccupied.
"Ahem," said a voice from behind us.
We reluctantly pulled away from each other in a rush, both embarrassed that Mr. Bales was standing there quietly chuckling.
"Well if you two are quite through, please return to practice." he said and walked back into the room.
Blink looked down at me and I back up at him. We looked a little flustered that we had been discovered, not that it was a secret anyways.
"After you m'lady," he said in a cute English accent, bowing to let me through.
I laughed and walked in the room looking at the rest of the chorus. I spotted Chelsea, ready to tell her everything that had happened as soon as the lunch bell rang, but by the look of her face, she already knew.
