The Change Within
Chapter 1: Blah
Blah. That is what school is. They trap us in this brick building with look-a-likes and preps who think they are the shit. Fortunately, I am not one of them. I am what you call a 'freak', 'emo screamo', or 'Gothic Princess', but I would like to think of myself as an individual amongst the blonde, carbon copies that make up my school. I have always been different in a totally noticeable way. Instead of wearing a cheerleading uniform or cute little pink dresses I wear dark clothing in multiple, thin layers.
For instance, right now I am wearing a gripping black dress that is strapless with a heart shaped top that accents my boobs as well as my legs because it cuts off a good two inches past the end of my butt. But because we have rules in this school about what is and is not appropriate to wear, I put on a pair of red, fishnet stockings under my dress and a scrap of ripped red fabric that slunk-slid onto my shoulder and ends at the same length as a cardigan. Instead of my usual black lips, today I decided to try this blood red lipstick. If I say so myself it's a killer combination with my brand-spanking-new, red high heels.
"Raven," my third period teacher said in her pinched, naisily voice, piercing my thoughts, "what is 'x' in this equation?"
"X equals thirteen," I said guessing my favorite number.
"Were you paying attention?" she whined.
"No."
Hey, at least I'm honest. Unlike some people who claim to know this stuff then flunk the pre-test and then the actual test. Besides, I am not that academically challenged. I get D's.
"Do you get the concept then?" she asked and I shook my head, causing a few loose strands to fall into my face. Mrs. Manson, the annoyingly, congested-sounding teacher, sighed and asked the class, "Would anyone want to show Raven how this works?"
Not a single hand went in the air. Figures. Unless I'm a five foot-two Barbie I shouldn't get any math help. You gotta love the world.
"All right then I guess I'll have to get out the Superman," Mrs. Manson announced in her high pitch voice before trotting over to her desk. The class groaned. Practically everyone hates the Superman. It's this ancient trick or treating bucket that she has put everyones name in on slips of paper so when she needs people to answer a question on the board or someone needs a temporary tutor and no one volunteers she gets out the Superman and picks a name.
"Trevor Mitchell," she read aloud. Just what I needed, a bonehead to help me with math. The class tittered as Trevor gathered his books and headed towards the empty desk next to mine with angst spreading through him. I sighed and pulled my notebook over onto my actual desk as Trevor thudded into the desk on my right.
" 'Sup, Monster Girl?" Trevor asked looking at my incomplete worksheet with dismay and utter lack of enthusiasm. "So do you wanna work on number three or five?"
"I was actually thinking of getting a restroom pass and skipping," I said honestly.
He chuckled and said truthfully, "I'm right with you, but how hard can math be?"
"Very," I said glancing at the worksheet. One variable I can handle, but multiple variables in one equation -err, not so much.
"All right. So look at number... five. You have three equations: '2x–y+3z= -7', '-5x+y–2z= 16', and '-x+4y+z= 7'. You should use substitution to find 'y' because that would be easiest, especially in the second equation. So you would get 'y= 5x+2z+16' and substitute that into each equation getting...?" He instructed, pushing me to actually solve the equation myself.
I looked down at the equation. I tried to make my head wrap around the procedure to solve it, but it froze. I looked around, worried anyone would catch onto my stupidity, but they were too busy either texting or passing notes to even think about me. I gulped and looked back down at the paper again.
Okay, so by putting 'y= 5x+2z+16' in the first equation you would get '2x+ -1(5x+2z+16)+3z= -7' which would equal to '2x+ -5x–2z+3z+ -16= -7', and would then simplify to uhm... '-3z+ -z= -9'. Wait, no– it'd be '-3x+z= 9'. I told Trevor that and his reply was:
"About time you got that one. Now, what's the next one?"
'-x+4y+z= 7'. Oh jeez, there's a multiplication step in there. Shit. Here goes nothing. '-x+ 4(5x+2z+16)+z= 7' that would make '-x+20x+8z+64+z= 7', and that is equivalent to '19x+9z= -57'.
"So, now what?" I asked after writing down the new equations.
"You take '19x+9z= -57' and '-3x+z= 9' and do the elimination method," he instructed, setting it up for me with a hint of "duh" in his voice.
19x+9z= -57 -3x+z =9
I took the second equation and multiplied it by negative nine to eliminate the z's. Then I added the two new found equations, which left me with '46x= -138'. Oh my. I got out my calculator and divided negative one-hundred and thirty-eight by forty-six and ended up getting negative three. I wrote down 'x= -3' and Trevor nodded.
"Now what you do is put 'x' in one of the equations you just worked on. Although it's probably be easier to use '-3x+z= 9,'" Trevor explained leaving little marks of graphite on my paper.
I sighed and plugged in the numbers to get '9+x= 9'. I subtracted nine by both sides to get 'z=0'. Huh.
After writing that down Trevor informed me on what to do next by saying, "Now put those into any equation, and once you get the answer, put it in the format of (x,y,z)." I nodded and looked at 'y= 5x+2z+16' and thought it may be the simplest.
So, if you put them in you would get 'y= 5(-3)+2(0)+16' leaving you with 'y= 16-15' or 'y=1'.
I smiled defiantly down at the paper. Not this time, son!
I wrote in big, black letters (-3, 1, 0) next to the numbered space and let out a triumphant yell. Trevor covered his face, embarrassed at the sudden attention I caused, and I only squealed louder out of spite. Tormenting Trevor Mitchell is always the highlight of my day, especially if it is to get back at him for something. So just to put it over the top I squealed, "Trevor, oh my sweet Trevor! How can I ever repay you for helping me in my troubled times?"
"By shutting the hell up," he growled quietly, turning even more red.
"You want a kiss?" I shouted, surprise forced in my voice, causing the whole class's attention on us.
"No, no! Don't–" But it was too late. I smeared my red lips against his tan cheek, leaving a big lip-sized stain. Most of the class gawked and the others stifled giggles at Trevor's perplexed expression and started texting away about our 'kiss'.
I giggled and batted my mascara coated eyelashes at him, mocking his expression. His light eyelids were fluttering open and shut, along with his mouth that looked rather fish-like at the moment. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but couldn't quite figure out exactly what it was.
I pinched his other cheek and said cheerily, "Caught you off guard, didn't I?" He smacked my delicate hand away and said quietly in a heated voice, "Raven Madison, you are going to wish you never did that."
"Why? What are you going to do?- Tell on me to your big, bad daddy? Sorry, but he doesn't own my parent's land," I asked tauntingly. By now nobody was focusing on us anymore, and I did not really like putting on too much of a show unless necessary.
"No. I am going to make you fall in love with me," Trevor said seriously. I mean, he was dead serious with his aqua-green eyes burning and set jaw bulging against his angelic features.
I burst out laughing. "You? Me?" He nodded, his face scrunching up even more now that I thought he was a joke. "That's rich."
"You may be laughing now, but once I've got you under my spell you are going to be so out of it that once I dump your sorry ass it will scar you emotionally for the rest of your life," Trevor threatened in a menacing tone.
"Whatever dude. I think you took too many soccer balls to the head," I said striking my knuckles against his skull lightly. The rage in his eyes became suddenly much deeper. He was about to say something when the bell rang. I waggled my painted fingers at him and exited the room.
"Trevor and me – a couple? What a ridiculous thought," I scoffed and pushed the thought away before entering my dreaded literature class.
-x-
"He actually said that?" Becky, my best friend since the third grade, asked incredulously. She knew of the rivalry between me and Trevor, but was often more absorbed with her crush of the century.
"Yeah. The look on his face was hilarious! It was as if he actually believed every phony word that came out of his diseased mouth. I would love to know what he thinks he has to do to get me to fall in love with him. This should be fun to watch unfold," I said putting a book and a few notebooks in my backpack before shoving the rest of my stuff in my locker and slamming it shut.
I swung my Hello Batty collectors backpack on my shoulders and Becky and I walked out to her old Ford pick-up truck. It was out in the middle of the parking lot and had a faded jade green color on the outside and a tan, worn interior, plus a broken left tail light that she has gotten fined for more than two-hundred dollars total.
We climbed into it and Becky started the heap of scrap metal we called Sandy. We named the truck that because the color of the interior is sort of similar to that of sand. Plus, last year when Becky and I went to Dullsville's man-made lake all the time. We tracked in so much sand that by the end of the year we probably had half of the beach under the mats.
"I think you should be worried Rave. He obviously meant it, and Trevor with a plan is a frightening thing," Becky voiced her concerns as she drove out of the school lot. So long, burden of education. "So at least take some time to mentally prepare yourself or something in case he does whoo you."
I laughed loudly, "Yo-You think Trevor will actually make me swoon?" I mean, what an absurd motion that Trevor would make my heart go thump-thump, and that if he said a single word to me I would be floating to class from sheer, blissful happiness. Yeah – not likely.
"It's possible Raven. What if he gets you a black rose or- or a ring or something like that? Oh Raven, why don't you open your eyes a little?" Becky asked, turning onto the street next to mine.
"Because this whole mess is a misunderstanding. Besides, how bad can Trevor be?- He thinks he appeals to me now, and I can only imagine what he has planned out," I chuckled at the thought as we reached my house.
It was an average sized house; four bedrooms and three baths in two-stories with a two-car garage that attaches off from the kitchen for some reason or another.
"I guess we'll have all weekend to wait, huh?" she asked uneasily.
I unlocked the Ford's door and swung it open. "Do you wanna go to the mall on Sunday? Maybe Matt Wells will be there," I said, wagging my eyebrows at the last part before hopping onto the rough turf of my driveway.
"Y-Yeah," Becky said blushing heavily. She's always like this when it comes to Matt. Whenever anyone mentioned Matt, Becky's face turned red – and I mean bright red. Whenever some one talks about him or what he does her face turns scarlet, and if he comes within the field of vision she gets an even darker red because now she thinks he knows that she's thinking about him all the time. It's an intense cycle of blushing faces and hiding behind notebooks, and I have to go with her through it.
"All right, pick me up at two," I said, shutting the door and walking through my unlocked front door. Becky drove off, her face still ablaze. I chuckled and put my backpack on the messy living room couch. It looked as though a tornado came in here; there were books lying all over the place in stacks, on their sides, wide open to a random page – it was madness.
"Raven, don't touch those!" Billy Boy exclaimed, running into the room.
Figures, he would be the one going through all these books.
I stuck out my index finger and turned the page of one of the open books.
"Mom!" Billy Boy hollered, running to the bottom of the stairs. "Raven's messing with the books!"
"Raven," my mom yelled down to me in the warning tone she often has to use with me. I slunk up the stairs and slipped into my room unnoticed. I pulled out my Hello Batty calendar, that came with my backpack, and crossed off another day. Just another one-hundred and twenty-eight days of school.
I sighed and looked at the black calendar. At least there was one good thing; in eight days it will be Halloween. I am not quite sure what I will be this year. Last year I was a cheerleader and the year before I was a tennis player. I could possibly go as some kind of sports player or a clown. Maybe I will be a gymnast or Becky and I could be Siamese twins or a horse or something. I doubt Becky would do it for me, especially if Matt is going tricker-treating with his little sister again.
He goes with her every year and they always match, much to my amusement. For instance, last year when Kara (that's his sister's name) decided to dress up as Cinderella with her poofy dress and dolled up face Matt went around looking like an enlarged glass shoe. It was quite a site to see.
I laughed out loud remembering Becky's reaction. She dressed as a football player to match my uniform and when we were about five blocks from my house she saw him and almost choked on her mini snickers. The toe of the shoe was sticking out on his stomach which left his lower region bulging in dark blue tights. The heel started out of his backside and – much to Becky's dismay – covered up his tight, athletically sculpted butt. Once she coughed up the chocolate covered calories, unflatteringly I might add, her brown eyes bulged and her mouth was wide open, showing the back of her throat. Her focus zoned in on his package as he and his sister got a small handful of candy, and then she reluctantly tore away her vision as they started walking towards us. A thin layer of sweat escaped onto her forehead, which was now visible since she took off her Chargers helmet.
"Hi M-Matt," Becky said to him in a calm voice before cracking at the end. He gave her a nod that only the soccer snobs could pull off before smiling and saying in a too deep voice, "Hey."
I have no clue what that said about the position she had in his heart, but I am pretty sure she went over it a bit because for the next two hours as she was saying how he obviously was pining for her and such until we stumbled upon him again, and she did not do much else besides giggle and hurry to the next house.
I was just hoping that this does not happen before we get to the mansion on Benson Hill this year.
The mansion is one of the few things in this town that lets me know I am not going completely insane. It is huge and pitch-black with dark curtains covering broken windows that a few were sealed off by crooked, tattered, deep purple shutters that almost blended in with the aging wooden exterior. It was a dark brown – almost black if you stood by the iron gates that surrounded the premise. The roof had a few dark shingles missing and decorative gargoyles on the side just above the grand entry way. The entry way was ten feet high and was the same dark brown as the rest of the house. It was surrounded by a shriveling lawn that had patches of lush grass from a recent rain.
It is perfect in so many ways. The only thing that would make this house complete would be if a family moved in and they would be as dysfunctional as the house appeared to be. Maybe a vampire or two living in the upper level whom would gaze down at me with longing would definitely put the cherry on top of the double fudge brownie.
Yumm... brownie.
I shoved the calendar back under my full-sized bed with the rest of my miscellaneous junk before hopping onto it. I put my dark stockings on my pillow as I gazed up at my plain white ceiling. Thousands of thoughts filled up the empty space in my mind, most of them about the infamous, Trevor Mitchell.
"What's the worst he could do?" I bemused myself quietly, still lying on my back on top of my pitch-black comforter. As suddenly as the question appeared the answer popped at me.
"Make you fall... hard."
(A/N: Hey guys, sorry for that little math session up there, but I'd thought I'd like to start off with a little math since school just let out for me. Which would automatically mean that I have most of the summer to write - Whoo! But only for a little while longer because I have a life, believe it or not, and I have soccer conditioning so I can't sit on my butt all day :(. But I will update as soon as I write the fifth chapter (I know... I'm plannning ahead for once :D) so look out for that one.)
