(Again, feel free to skip over this first bit)
Intrigued Soul; What sucks here is that I've been spelling both 'Leshawna' and 'Lindsay' wrong since I first wrote their names on the site. xD I'll try to get them right this time around for ya. :) Thaaaanks for reviewing!
thisobsessioniscontagious; Naaaw. You want something utterly amazing? Go read your own stories. Thanks alot though, means alot.
paulinaghost ; To be honest, I have my mind dead set on most of these couples now, but go ahead and suggest some in your next review. Never know, might even use a few. ;) Thanks in advance by the way.
bkreed; LOL, thanks tons. :)
Parody-lover; Thought something was off. Oh well, just thought 'saltwater' sounded cooler. xD And I just heard about Billy Mays earlier this week. Celebrities seem to be passing out left and right these days. And thanks for reviewing bud. :) Sorry I wasn't able to get this update last Wednesday alongside yours, but hope you enjoy this one nonetheless.
like you need to know ; No G/B just yet, but there's some Bridgette in this one. Thanks for reviewing!
crazy4pearlandTDI ; Well, good thing you found this then. :) They're one of my favorites too, and glad you enjoyed it!
Albert Einstein's Fangirl; Three words: You're freakin' awesome. xD
Disclaimer: I do not own TDI.
EDIT: And yet ... I still spell 'Leshawna' wrong. I'll edit that, and a few other things I just keep forgetting. Sorry for the inconvenience. :P
You look like Audrey Hepburn, when you get all dressed up
I have seen all your movies, 'cause Audrey's a stone fox, yeah
- I Have No Sister, Oh No! Oh My!
Trent (Tuesday, 9:26pm; the Catfish Cafe)
"You new around here?" Slightly amused, I scanned the room for anyone else that might've been referring too. For example, it could've easily been that mad lady by the counter over there, who'd caused some whole fuss about 'iced tea' with one of the workers. Or even the elderly Asian guy sitting alone at his table for two, repeatedly asking anyone who passed him by where he could find a good bowl 'of rice around here.
After about a minute though, I figured the guy was probably talking to me. "Nah. Moved back from Milwaukee a couple days ago. Stayed a couple years, but in me, I've got all proud Canadian blood."
I was sitting on one of the high stools by the counter, my best friend strapped tightly across my back (otherwise known as my favorite 'ol guitar, just incase that sounded really awkward). In front of me, behind the counter, stood a large teenager with tousled blond hair. He probably got tired of serving cappuccinos or something and decided to chat up storms with the customers instead. "Now that's what I'm talking about!" We slapped high-fives. "I grew up in this place, lived here all my life. To this day, I still get stoked everytime I order the sandwich-soup-doughnut deal at Tim Horton's."
He chuckled, thought it over for a moment, then corrected himself, "Alright, maybe sometimes I ... order more than that."
"That's cool, man," I grinned, "Can't say I blame ya. That deal alone could probably be the sole reason I moved back here in the first place."
"I know, right?" All of a sudden, his voice dropped down low as he informed me of the following: "And just between you and me, I heard there's going to be some amateur performing for the late shift tonight. I'll be honest, I'm usually easier on them newbies, but a little bird told me this would be this was gonna be his first public gig-"
"Trent Young," I interrupted, "You're looking at him."
The over-sized, yet also over-enthusiastic teenager gaped at me. "No way! ... not like that changes anything though," he shrugged, then continued after a pause, "Oh! The name's Owen, just so you know what to tell someone if they ask what's awesome at the Catfish Cafe."
"Well then, Owen my man," at the same time, I heard my name being announced by some guy who introduced himself as Fred, "I guess this is the part where I prove you wrong."
I received my first guitar when I was six. My uncle had given it to me for Christmas, handing it to me in a messily-wrapped package. He'd arrived late that night, blue-faced from the traditional Toronto snowstorm. "Here you go, bud," he told me, when it was his turn to hand his present, "Who knows, you might just turn out to be the next Liam Gallagher." I thought of the days following after, when I'd spent every waking second trying to figure out that thing. Until finally, something pretty came out from those cheap six strings.
My father, on the other hand, wasn't too thrilled. "What kind of career are you trying to encourage my kid into?" I heard him one afternoon down the hall, his older brother on the line. Then he went on about how he should've been setting a better example, how it was him who was the struggling musician here, while my father had himself the family he'd always dreamt of and a steady career. And that I'd be better off learning how to work a calculator than some stupid instrument anyway.
It goes without saying that we never heard much from my Uncle Al ever again.
"Hey." Less than five minutes later, I found myself standing on the small stage area, gazing over at a crowd of roughly twenty people. I coughed into the mic, despite my previous efforts of trying not to act like an idiot. Anyway. "How's everyone doing tonight?"
I forgot if I'd been expecting an answer or not, removing my guitar out of its case and strapping it over my shoulder. Looking back on it now, maybe it was a good thing I hadn't expected too much back then.
"This first song ... let's just say it's been stuck in my head since the day I discovered music," I didn't mean for these words to sting, "It's a classic."
As cheesy as this sounds, the moment I started that chord progression, I felt something different. I can't fully describe it, something better.
"Today is gonna be the day
That they're gonna throw it back to you ..."
I was locked, all ears into the music.
"... because maybe, you're gonna be the one who saves me
And after all, you're my -"
The cafe doors swung open. Vaguely, I made out the silhouette of a girl with dyed turqoise hair.
At one point, during the last chorus, I'd lost it - the music.
"No," she insisted, softly, "Keep going."
And right now, I have you
For a moment I can tell, I've got you
Because your lips don't move
And something is happening
'coz your eyes tell me the truth
I've put a spell over you
- Spell, Marie Digby
Sadie (Wednesday, 9:14am; the walk-in clinic)
I'd skipped school that morning, I realized, just to sit in the waiting room and glare at the clock.
"You're pregnant too?" I looked over to my left, noticing a teenager with the exact same anxious look on her face. She was thin, and wore two black pigtails on either side of her head.
"I think so. I'm taking the test later, just to make sure. Like, for all I know, I could just be fat.
"... think of it like, a murder a case. I'm pretty sure I am, but I need to know for sure before I do anything about it."
Pigtails didn't reply after that, resuming back to the similar sit-and-glare-at-the-clock-routine as me. I closed my eyes, trying to think back on how this had ever happened in the first place. It was a mistake and you shouldn't have done it, reminded my inner do-right self I liked to call Smart Sadie. Smart Sadie and Typical Sadie were two totally different people in my book. One was ninety-eight-percent carefree and occasionally careless, and the other would have none of that. And would have no problem at all telling Typical Sadie so.
"I really hate this," admitted Pigtails, only ten years later (alright, possibly less), breaking the ice, "I threw up about six times the other day."
"Yeah," to this, both Smart Sadie and Typical Sadie nodded in disgust, "It's really gross and stuff."
"Tell me about it," she agreed, "I'm Katie, by the way."
I smiled. "I'm-"
"Sadie Furtado?" piped up the receptionist, carrying a clipboard in one hand. I stood from my chair, halfway down the corridor when Pigtails' name was also called. She caught up to me.
"Good luck, Sherlock," she remarked as we were only several feet away to getting our tests done. I laughed, realizing she'd come up with her own nickname for me. So it was only fair for me to say ...
"You too, Pigtails, you too."
"He's beautiful, Sadie." I was at camp then, when my mother called from the hospital one late summer evening. She explained how she'd gone into labour earlier than expected, and how after a grueling three hours, she had finally given birth to a beautiful baby boy. "I can't wait 'til you get to meet him."
I can't get over how disappointed I was then, staying up the next few days staring at the low ceiling. I remember taking myself out on walks sometimes, when I couldn't get some sleep. Camp had been fun before that, when I knew less, when I thought I knew that my kid brother would not be due for another few weeks. "His name is Andrew," she'd also mentioned. "I told him about you the second I held him in my arms, and all of a sudden he stopped crying."
My father called on my last day at Muskoka. I was sitting on my bunk, the last one left in my cabin. "If only your mother hadn't been so insistent in taking the bus," he said.
On their way home from a neccassary check-up, Mom and Andrew crashed at Highway 403. There had been several survivors, but only one out of the two of them had made it out alive.
"If only ... if only I'd made more of an effort to stop her ..."
I think I fell apart inwardly when I heard the news.
"Well." Doctor Toban, garbed in a white lab coat from shoulders to ankles, seemed to miss the fact I was a teenager with no experience in this whatsoever, "You're pregnant, m'dear."
Grinning from ear to ear, she eventually caught on that I didn't quite share her enthusiasm. "Aw. There, there," she gently patted my head, and I sat there, unsure if that was supposed to make me feel better or not. "Do you need some time to-"
I nodded, proceeding down the hallway whether she was going to offer me do so or not. The ladies' restroom was small and bare, with only two stalls. I crept inside, feeling as unwelcome and strange as one might ever feel at the local walk-in clinic.
One look at the mirror, and I let myself really fall apart this time.
Today, I announced to my friends at lunch that even though I'm a jock, I love to bake as well.
The whole cafeteria did not break into song. MLIA.
- courtesy of w w w. m y l i f e i s a v e r a g e . c o m
Bridgette (Wednesday, 12:37pm; the library)
justyourtypicalsurfergirl has joined this chatroom.
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hi!i'm_e-scope has barged into this chatroom.
mama'sboy80 says: So, how's everyone liking their senior year so far?
justyourtypicalsurfergirl says: It's alright. Nothing's changed too much at least ... from what I've seen.
mama'sboy80 says: Yeah, I guess. For the most part.
justyourtypicalsurfergirl says: Why? Anything out of the ordinary happen to you today?
mama'sboy80 says: Naw. 'least not to me. I did notice something goin' on with that Heather girl all morning.
justyourtypicalsurfergirl says: I talked to her once. Yeah, not so much of a sweet talker. Did she anything to you?
mama'sboy80 says: Once again. Not to me. Kind of glad though. She's been following that new kid around all day, trying to start up a conversation from what it looks to me.
justyourtypicalsurfergirl says: Her starting something with any new kid sounds like trouble to me. What do you think she wants-
hi!i'm_e-scope says: OMIGOSH, I THINK I KNOW HIM!111! That new kid I mean. I call him Zeke, though he doesn't seem to like me very much ... but he's SO cute. A little on the weird side, I might say, but-
2smart4u says: Well, you're one to talk.
justyourtypicalsurfergirl says: So I was saying-
hi!i'm_e-scope says: You don't think ... she likes the guy, right? Because, that would be like, SO funny! Like, LOL kind of funny even! LOL LOL LOL LOL LOL LOL !
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justyourtypicalsurfergirl says: Anyways-
hi!i'm_e-scope says: You know, I was friends with a racoon once. And it was like, SO-
justyourtypicalsurfergirl says: Well, I guess I'll be going too then, seeing as I'm the only sane person left in this conversation. See you around.
justyourtypicalsurfergirl has left his chatroom.
hi!i'm_e-scope says: ... AWESOME, 'coz like there was this one time-
As I walked out of the library, I took note of this one girl with wild red hair, chuckling to herself as she typed madly on her keyboard. I took one crazy guess at who this probably was.
My bookbag hung over my shoulder, I started heading to my Math class, seeing that there was no harm at getting there early. Brushing a stray lock of light blonde hair behind my ear, I replayed my day so far. Nothing too exciting had happened to me yet today. Besides that conversation I had with three other seniors free period, but that had left me more freaked than optimistic if anything. Whatever, I thought, I have the rest of this afternoon and three more days this week to make up for it.
The bulletin board caught my eye on way. On the top, in bright letters, was the quote of the day, "Surprise yourself, you never really know". It was cliche, but it did brighten my mood just a bit. Underneath were several fliers and sign-up sheets, corked in different vibrant colors. I scanned some of the lists, checking for anything that might've interested me. There was nothing to do with surfing just yet. I would know - I'd checked about five times. And the only other thing that I looked for ... as crazy as it sounds ...
"Do you think I should try out for the cheerleading squad?" I accidentally blurted out, to no one, really.
"Well, you're blonde and not scary looking," a muscular girl, dark-haired and kind of intimidating passed by, offering her two cents, "I say go for it."
She hadn't sound very thrilled at all, but for some reason, that had been enough to make me jot my name down on the said sign-up sheet in my worse-than-a-guy's penmanship.
A child of five would understand this. Send someone to fetch a child of five.
- Groucho Marx
Noah (Wednesday, 1:43pm; room 209)
I crossed my arms, eyes fixed on the every movement of Mr. Dolimore, my homeroom teacher.
Number uno. He glanced at his sheets, stroking what was left of his grey sideburns as he opened his mouth to speak. "If you were involved in the vandalizing incident outside of the school earlier today, the principal would like to speak to you." All his words were recited in monotone.
"To anyone interested." Two. "Mr. Maclean, the new staff member here at York High would like to properly introduce himself in his office, A.K.A. the detention hall."
I did a quick check around the room. No one seemed interested, if not slightly amused. Unknowingly, I began tapping my fingernails against the edge of the desk. Out with it, Dolly, I mused at the impossibility that maybe I could send him irritated brain signals. I know you're a very non-excitable man, much like myself, but just this once ...
Three. "Once more, to anyone interested," he paused, taking another peek at his papers. "In presenting a speech to be apart of this year's student council the beginning in October, there will be a meeting in room 216 during second period this Friday-"
Bingo.
I kicked back and relaxed, seeing no point in listening any further.
"Also, I seemed to have lost my wallet this morning. If anyone ... "
I wish I was little bit taller, I wish I was a baller
I wish I had a girl who looked good, I would call her
I wish I had a rabbit in a hat with a bat and a '64 Impala
-I Wish, Skee-Lo
Leshawna (Wednesday, 3pm; Johnny Rocket's)
"Hey babe, heard about your job down at that diner. I was originally going to call and laugh, but seeing as you're not picking up your phone, I guess I'll just sympathize with you a bit instead. On second thought, I'm not so much in the mood. But I felt like letting you in about that little prank I played this morning? You know, the one that involved me and a few other guys scribbling all over the school a bit? Yeah, can you believe it? I got caught right as I walked out of fourth period. No biggie though, I'll think of something. And if not, detention's actually been sort of comfortable to me these last few years, so hey, I'm not one to complain-"
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
Five minutes into it, I realized that I really hate my job.
"Now let me tell it to you straight. I am NOT going to tolerate any of your-"
Let me introduce my boss. His name is Chef Hatchet, and he's probably one of the freakiest people I've ever seen. Three seconds with him and you feel like you're in the military. Or worse, maybe some of y'all would rather be in the military then stand around this guy. Can't say I blame ya. I'd probably be one of those people.
"Excuse me-"
We were two new busgirls that afternoon, both forced into the tackiest uniforms that people pay not to wear. But back to the point. The other chick's name is Beth. She's small, with railroad tracks glued to her teeth. She's not too bad though. I've got to say, she has this kind of spunk about her. Then again, sometimes she'd be better off keeping her mouth shut, for both our sakes.
"What's that? There will be NONE of that in MY diner, you got it? Now, you can start by scrubbing the toilets in the Ladies' room. Haven't been scrubbed since 1999, I recall. And you," he turned to me, frozen to my feet at the sight of this man's stare, "There must be a chicken suit somewhere back in the storage. Find it, put it on, and try not to scare away the customers, alright maggot?"
Hatchet sneered, exiting the kitchen to both our relief. "He'th creepy," said Beth.
I wandered off, trying to find that darned storage room. As clear as day, the legendary chicken suit that looked old enough to be my granda's great-grandma, was simply stacked on one of the front boxes. I picked it up, checked both ways even when I knew no one would be around, and slipped it on.
There was a mirror behind the door. I held my breath, and dusted it over, then took a hard good look at myself.
Well, it wasn't any worse than the uniform at least.
xD Ohman, this was awfully fun to write. Hope you guys enjoyed.
(And again, the next bit's only so I can clear up a few things. So go ahead and skip this too. :P)
A few things:
- The first 'quote' I got from a song featured in Kitty-Euphoria (now Hello Kathryne)'s Five, something she wrote awhile back. She hasn't written much lately, but I suggest you check out her old stuff. Her writing's pretty amazing.
- About the 'iced tea' statement in Trent's POV: My cousin told me this story once about her teacher, who took a trip to the States once. At one of the cafes she visited, she asked for an 'iced tea' (expecting Nestea) and instead got a cup of actual tea with an iced cube in it. We live in Canada, so that struck as kind of weird. I don't think that's going to offend anyone living down there in the U.S. , but incase it did, sorry 'bout that.
- I totally ripped off 'the Catfish Cafe' from an old book I read a loooong time ago. Three years later, and the name's still stuck with me.
- Liam Gallagher is the lead singer of Oasis. I know, it'd seem more fitting to use the name of their lead guitarist instead, but his name is also Noah, and I didn't feel like explaining that they're two different people to people who probably already know.
- And the lyrics Trent's singing are from 'Wonderwall', probably one of the greatest songs ever.
- M L I A . c o m is win.
- Originally I was going to place Hatchet as the 'cafeteria lady' at their highschool, but I figured he'd probably get more screentime working at the diner.
- And Johnny Rockets doesn't have a mascot from what I know, but I just had to add that in. :D
- justyourtypicalsurfergirl - not so surprisingly - is Bridgette, mama'sboy80 is DJ, 2smart4u is Noah, and hi!i'm_e-scope ... must I explain?
Any more questions? Go ahead and ask 'em.
Can't wait to here what you guys think!
Looooove you guys. :)
