Kiss me creep
"Talking"
Thinking
(Me talking)
# Character preview #
~*~ Flashback ~*~
Disclaimer- I don't own CCS or the writing of the book 'Kiss me creep' Clamp does for CCS and Marian Woodruff owns 'kiss me creep'
Chapter 2
# Sakura's preview #
"One- two- three- KICK!"
I jumped up, kicked my legs out in a midair split, and landed neatly in a squatting position with my weight on my toes. A neat trick that I'm sure wouldn't have qualified me for Ringling Brothers, but it was ambitious enough for the head cheerleader of high school nobody had ever heard of. Tomoyo, Meiling (in this story Meiling isn't Syaroan's cousin) and Meng (my character!) tried it, and then collapsed onto a stack of mats with a chorus of groans and mutinous mutterings.
"I love you, Sakura," Tomoyo Daidouji, rubbing at a sore muscle in her thigh, "but my legs hate you. I'm not exactly Jo-Jo star buck, you know. You could try taking it a little easier with us once in a while."
"Sakura doesn't know the meaning of taking it easy," Meiling Rae said, groaning dramatically and tossing her long, silky black hair over one shoulder.
True, taking it easy wasn't exactly my style. According to my grandfather, Fujito Kinomoto, I'm the proverbial cyclone on wheels. I don't know about that, but once I could walk, they couldn't stop me. At a very early age, I learned how to climb out of my crib. At night my mother would raise the sides of the crib as high as they would go, but I would manage to get out. Those night rampages, as my father describes them, were the stuff legends are made of. Unfortunately I don't remember any of that stuff. These days, my energy is channelled into more constructive activities than covering the walls with lipstick graffiti.
"Is it my fault you're a bunch of lazy slobs?" I asked teasing. "Come on, lets run through the routine one more time. We only have a few more minutes before the jocks take over, so let's hurry." I was referring to our beloved soccer team, of cause.
Meng Takitar moaned. "Listen to her. A walking Geritol commercial. Ok, slave driver. Just remember, if I die during this practise it'll be your fault."
I giggled. "Don't worry. We'll tell everyone you died for the glory of your school."
We all found that one particularly hilarious since none of us could imagine sacrificing ourselves for the sake of good old Tomoeda High. (Thanks to everyone who told me how to spell it! Thanks!) I mean, it's a great school and all, but certainly nothing to get choked up about.
Tomoyo pushed her hair out of her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh as she scrambled to her feet. Meiling and Meng followed suit, falling in behind me.
"First," I said, "You've got to close your eyes and imagine the band playing. The crowd is going bananas. Eriol Hiiragizawa just scored a goal in the last two minutes of the final quarter~"
"In which case, you're about to be trampled by the fans," a male voice boomed across the field.
"My eyes flew open. Syaroan- I should have known! I figured he was expecting me to do something dumb like turn red or start fidgeting with the zipper on my warm-ups, but I stood my ground, giving him a defiant look that would have turned Yamazaki Takashi's knees to jelly.
The trouble was, Syaroan didn't flinch. He started right back. We were starting a real eyeball-to eyeball showdown. A silent duel of wits. Having an older brother at home, whom I'd practised quite a bit, considered myself a master of this game. Unfortunately Syaroan was a master, too. We stared but the showdown between us ended when I looked away first. My only thought was that Syaroan must have more than one older brother or sister at home. This was a minor, but nevertheless significant, victory on his part.
"What do you want?" I asked. I had forgotten it was the soccer team's turn to use the field.
He pointed to his wristwatch. "Time's up, girls. The locker room natives are getting restless."
"Mind if we finish up with the last routine?" I asked stiffly.
I was determined to hold my ground. My fellow cheerleaders didn't help matters, however. They broke out in a fresh chorus of groans. I turned around and shot them my best I'll-get-you-for-this glare. The groans turned into giggles. I guess I'm just not the menacing type.
"Be my guest," said Syaroan, with a grand sweep of his arm, "but better make it quick. I'll take no responsibility of any injuries that might occur in the event of stampede."
"Thanks so much," I relied in my most sickening sweet voice.
"Syaroan was acting as if he owned the whole field and was doing us a gigantic favour by letting us use it. A wave of heat was spreading up my neck and onto my cheeks. Why did Syaroan always have this affect on me? Why couldn't I just ignore him?
I felt Syaroan's eyes on me even after I turned my back. I've always hated books that say, "she felt his eyes boring into her." It sounds so dumb. L always imagined the guy coming up behind the girl with a pair of drills sprouting from his forehead like horns. But as corny as it sounds, that was how I really felt just then. I actually 'felt' him staring at me.
The rest I'd just as soon forget. It happened during one of my high kicks. I must have kicked a little too high because all of a sudden the floor was sliding out from me. I landed with a thud in the most ungraceful position possible- right smack on my behind.
"Oooohhh," I groaned, more from embarrassment than pain.
A large hand appeared in front of me. I took it without thinking.
"You okay?" Syaroan asked. His clasp was warm and very firm as he hauled me to my feet. My own skin felt hot and clammy next to his.
"Thanks, I muttered. "I'm alright."
He was still holding my hand, and for a second I could've almost sworn he was genuinely concerned about me. Then the mocking grin was back.
"If that's the preview, I can't wait to see the show," he said.
I yanked my hand away. He'd done it again. Once more he'd succeeded in making me feel like a complete idiot. How could one boy be so infuriating?
"Haven't you got anything better to do than hang around watching us practise?"
An innocent expression on his face, Syaroan turned to my friends. "See what I get for trying to help a damsel in distress? I'm telling you, it doesn't pay to be polite these days."
"Better watch who you pick up the next time," Meng said.
I put on my brightest, phoniest smile and tool a deep breath. "I just hope I can return the favour someday," I said through gritted teeth.
"Now that," Syaroan said, "might even be worth the tumble."
See what I mean about Syaroan? He used so much energy being obnoxious to me that if he had to take up alligator wrestling as an alternative hobby.
"Catch you later, S.K," he added, tossing it over his shoulder as he sauntered off in that casual I'm-not-in-no-hurry-to-get-there way of his.
I noticed with irritation that all three of my friends were following his exit with fascinated expressions. From what I had observed, Syaroan seemed to affect all girls that way.
All girls accept me, of cause.........................
So how was it guys? I hope it's good!!
The more reviews I get the faster I'll write!!
So do the 3 R's - Review, Review and Review!
Ja ne!
"Talking"
Thinking
(Me talking)
# Character preview #
~*~ Flashback ~*~
Disclaimer- I don't own CCS or the writing of the book 'Kiss me creep' Clamp does for CCS and Marian Woodruff owns 'kiss me creep'
Chapter 2
# Sakura's preview #
"One- two- three- KICK!"
I jumped up, kicked my legs out in a midair split, and landed neatly in a squatting position with my weight on my toes. A neat trick that I'm sure wouldn't have qualified me for Ringling Brothers, but it was ambitious enough for the head cheerleader of high school nobody had ever heard of. Tomoyo, Meiling (in this story Meiling isn't Syaroan's cousin) and Meng (my character!) tried it, and then collapsed onto a stack of mats with a chorus of groans and mutinous mutterings.
"I love you, Sakura," Tomoyo Daidouji, rubbing at a sore muscle in her thigh, "but my legs hate you. I'm not exactly Jo-Jo star buck, you know. You could try taking it a little easier with us once in a while."
"Sakura doesn't know the meaning of taking it easy," Meiling Rae said, groaning dramatically and tossing her long, silky black hair over one shoulder.
True, taking it easy wasn't exactly my style. According to my grandfather, Fujito Kinomoto, I'm the proverbial cyclone on wheels. I don't know about that, but once I could walk, they couldn't stop me. At a very early age, I learned how to climb out of my crib. At night my mother would raise the sides of the crib as high as they would go, but I would manage to get out. Those night rampages, as my father describes them, were the stuff legends are made of. Unfortunately I don't remember any of that stuff. These days, my energy is channelled into more constructive activities than covering the walls with lipstick graffiti.
"Is it my fault you're a bunch of lazy slobs?" I asked teasing. "Come on, lets run through the routine one more time. We only have a few more minutes before the jocks take over, so let's hurry." I was referring to our beloved soccer team, of cause.
Meng Takitar moaned. "Listen to her. A walking Geritol commercial. Ok, slave driver. Just remember, if I die during this practise it'll be your fault."
I giggled. "Don't worry. We'll tell everyone you died for the glory of your school."
We all found that one particularly hilarious since none of us could imagine sacrificing ourselves for the sake of good old Tomoeda High. (Thanks to everyone who told me how to spell it! Thanks!) I mean, it's a great school and all, but certainly nothing to get choked up about.
Tomoyo pushed her hair out of her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh as she scrambled to her feet. Meiling and Meng followed suit, falling in behind me.
"First," I said, "You've got to close your eyes and imagine the band playing. The crowd is going bananas. Eriol Hiiragizawa just scored a goal in the last two minutes of the final quarter~"
"In which case, you're about to be trampled by the fans," a male voice boomed across the field.
"My eyes flew open. Syaroan- I should have known! I figured he was expecting me to do something dumb like turn red or start fidgeting with the zipper on my warm-ups, but I stood my ground, giving him a defiant look that would have turned Yamazaki Takashi's knees to jelly.
The trouble was, Syaroan didn't flinch. He started right back. We were starting a real eyeball-to eyeball showdown. A silent duel of wits. Having an older brother at home, whom I'd practised quite a bit, considered myself a master of this game. Unfortunately Syaroan was a master, too. We stared but the showdown between us ended when I looked away first. My only thought was that Syaroan must have more than one older brother or sister at home. This was a minor, but nevertheless significant, victory on his part.
"What do you want?" I asked. I had forgotten it was the soccer team's turn to use the field.
He pointed to his wristwatch. "Time's up, girls. The locker room natives are getting restless."
"Mind if we finish up with the last routine?" I asked stiffly.
I was determined to hold my ground. My fellow cheerleaders didn't help matters, however. They broke out in a fresh chorus of groans. I turned around and shot them my best I'll-get-you-for-this glare. The groans turned into giggles. I guess I'm just not the menacing type.
"Be my guest," said Syaroan, with a grand sweep of his arm, "but better make it quick. I'll take no responsibility of any injuries that might occur in the event of stampede."
"Thanks so much," I relied in my most sickening sweet voice.
"Syaroan was acting as if he owned the whole field and was doing us a gigantic favour by letting us use it. A wave of heat was spreading up my neck and onto my cheeks. Why did Syaroan always have this affect on me? Why couldn't I just ignore him?
I felt Syaroan's eyes on me even after I turned my back. I've always hated books that say, "she felt his eyes boring into her." It sounds so dumb. L always imagined the guy coming up behind the girl with a pair of drills sprouting from his forehead like horns. But as corny as it sounds, that was how I really felt just then. I actually 'felt' him staring at me.
The rest I'd just as soon forget. It happened during one of my high kicks. I must have kicked a little too high because all of a sudden the floor was sliding out from me. I landed with a thud in the most ungraceful position possible- right smack on my behind.
"Oooohhh," I groaned, more from embarrassment than pain.
A large hand appeared in front of me. I took it without thinking.
"You okay?" Syaroan asked. His clasp was warm and very firm as he hauled me to my feet. My own skin felt hot and clammy next to his.
"Thanks, I muttered. "I'm alright."
He was still holding my hand, and for a second I could've almost sworn he was genuinely concerned about me. Then the mocking grin was back.
"If that's the preview, I can't wait to see the show," he said.
I yanked my hand away. He'd done it again. Once more he'd succeeded in making me feel like a complete idiot. How could one boy be so infuriating?
"Haven't you got anything better to do than hang around watching us practise?"
An innocent expression on his face, Syaroan turned to my friends. "See what I get for trying to help a damsel in distress? I'm telling you, it doesn't pay to be polite these days."
"Better watch who you pick up the next time," Meng said.
I put on my brightest, phoniest smile and tool a deep breath. "I just hope I can return the favour someday," I said through gritted teeth.
"Now that," Syaroan said, "might even be worth the tumble."
See what I mean about Syaroan? He used so much energy being obnoxious to me that if he had to take up alligator wrestling as an alternative hobby.
"Catch you later, S.K," he added, tossing it over his shoulder as he sauntered off in that casual I'm-not-in-no-hurry-to-get-there way of his.
I noticed with irritation that all three of my friends were following his exit with fascinated expressions. From what I had observed, Syaroan seemed to affect all girls that way.
All girls accept me, of cause.........................
So how was it guys? I hope it's good!!
The more reviews I get the faster I'll write!!
So do the 3 R's - Review, Review and Review!
Ja ne!
