Wowee and double wowee. 28 reviews...I'm flattered. I'm glad you all like this as much as I do.
I only hope that I live up to everyone's like of chapter one...
I forgot the disclaimer last time so here it is: I don't own Romeo and Juliet or TT. But I do own Billy Shakespeare; FACE PWNAGE! Err...no. Shutting up.
And so, without further adieu, I give you chapter 2!
Coming home went along smoothly. Vic dropped me off in front of my house just in time to not miss curfew, and I slipped in silently. I know they probably won't find out, but I felt undeniably guilty about what happened not even…an hour ago.
It had started out like an average party. A regular girl trying to get my attention last week during lunch had flagged me down and handed me an invitation to her party. I saw her passing them out to almost everyone she saw, and she had tried to do that, 'oh, sure, you can come, if you'd like' last minute thing to try and sound cool.
Now I'm not one to rag on people, but I don't like it when people don't act as they are just for the sake of social standing.
I had almost gotten up the stairs, taking off my shoes before I entered the house, when I saw a light flick on in the kitchen, down the hall. My mom, looking bedraggled and tired staggered down the corridor, coffee in hand. She was up late working on a skin disease cure, I assume, as she had been doing for the past two weeks.
"Gar…?" She managed to stutter out, half drugged with sleep.
Why was I feeling so guilty? It wasn't like anything had happened.
Sure, keep telling yourself that.
Well, we hadn't kissed…
I check my watch; it was already Sunday. But it was still ten minutes before curfew, so I couldn't be yelled at.
"Err," is all I can say. And I thought Rachel made me feel lame.
"Go to bed," she murmurs, returning to the kitchen, and most likely to her work.
"Yes ma'am." If I was getting away that easy, I was taking advantage of it. Scuttling up the stairs without another word, I slipped off my shirt and decided to just sleep in my boxers.
Although, I've been staring at that damn ceiling for about an hour. Did you know there are thirty-nine stick-on constellation star things on my ceiling from the summer I went nuts with those things? I was nine, I think.
As sleep slowly comes, my mind drifts off with the thoughts of Rachel.
I wonder what she's doing right now…
---
Ow, ow, ow.
My head hurts and I can't fall asleep. I keep thinking back to sneaking a sleeping pill, but they're ten hour pills and I'll never wake up if I do.
I'd gotten in late, thanks to a series of truly awful events following the party. After Gar and his friends had left, Kori had chatted on, now mostly directed towards my dance with Gar…
But as I was saying, after we left, it turns out Kori had parked about fourteen blocks away from the person's house (she'd dropped me off at the front) and we had to walk the whole fourteen blocks in heels along with Kori's constant talking about my dance…
And then once we'd got to the car, Kori's keys had been locked inside (I swear, that girl has possibly the shortest attention span in the history of attention spans. How does someone "forget" that they'd locked their keys inside their car for three hours?) So we had to walk another few blocks to the nearest payphone to call the car agency, and then wait twenty minutes for someone from the company come and unlock the car.
Then, Kori didn't have any money to pay the man with, so I had to lend her one hundred and fifty dollars. Honestly, all that money for doing something so simple? Oh, how they take advantage of the client. Apparently, the 'customer is always right' phrase went out of style, because Kori had argued for another twenty minutes with the man about the price. In the end, we ended up just paying him the right amount and she drove me home.
I'm surprised we didn't have another problem, like running out of gas or the car breaking down. But that would've even been better than the torture whoever's up there put me through. I don't know what it was about Kori tonight, but she was seriously getting on my last nerve.
I practically leaped out of the car and dashed into the house, barely muttering a goodbye.
Of course, who had been waiting for me behind door number one? Surprise to you, it was my father!
I think he'd yelled for maybe an hour and a half about curfew, about living up to the public eye. I usually brush away his little outbreaks, but I felt exceedingly guilty during this one and just hid in the corner as he yelled.
Eventually he calmed, or the next closest thing, and stormed off into his study. That was my signal to head to my room.
Somehow, I think this probably happened when I was just shouting things to shut Kori up, she'd asked me to go to the mall with her tomorrow. Honestly, shouldn't she know by now that I don't do malls?
---
Bored; that about sums up every thought going through my mind, right now. Well, not every thought, but every thought I'm not trying to block out.
I know Wally tells me that spending time with you parents is social suicide, but I rather like hanging out with my dad. Well, most of the time. That would be when he isn't trying to act cool and use slang.
We had agreed to meet in the bookstore at eleven, but it's already ten forty-five. Why bookstores? I hate bookstores. So many…books. Books to read.
I shudder, browsing up and down the comic book aisle. I run my fingers over the spines of the graphic novels and two centimeter comic books, pausing as they stop at a gap. Something moves in the next aisle over…I glance up. The poetry aisle…
I lean down to look through the gap, and a small smile creeps over my lips.
---
I guess I feel somewhat guilty for ditching Kori, saying I needed to use the bathroom, but I needed some breathing room. It was either the incessant rambling on her five-second talk with Richard that went along the lines of "Do you need help with your locker?" and then she'd replied, "Oh, yes please O handsome one!" Something like that.
I sneak a glance at the clock hanging above the Starbucks coffee stand; ten forty-five. I can probably sneak another five minutes of poetry without it sounding too suspicious. As I walk past a gap in the books, out of the corner of my eye, I see something move.
My heart begins to flutter. I don't know if I am being obsessive, or if it was the fact that someone vaguely familiar whispered my name half a second later, "…Rachel. Psst, Rachel."
I walk back to the gap backwards, peering through it. No one's there. Was someone playing a joke on me?
Then the whispering of my name sounds again, though now practically dripping with mischief. I check the gap again, this time there's a grinning face looking back at me.
I stumble back, blinking. When I turn my head again, he's gone.
---
I've got her good now. I should be ignoring her, even if my dad wasn't coming to meet me in less than thirty minutes. But I can't.
I don't understand…it's like last night at the dance. Shoot first, think later.
I don't even think my brain is functioning properly right now, because I see my feet rounding the corner to her aisle. She's there, looking fearful and confused at the same time. Wow…I had nearly forgotten how beautiful she is…
What am I doing! Stop Gar, stop!
---
What is he doing? Stop Gar, stop! If anyone sees you approaching me like that, they could get the wrong idea and news spreads fast…
But he isn't stopping. Instead, he stops next to me casually greeting with a, "Hello."
My heart is doing that thing again where it stops beating…Ack, I still need blood circulation!
But somehow, I manage a reply, "Hi Gar…"
He grins at me, tucking a strand of lose hair out of my face. His hand pauses over my face and his cheeks flush pink. He brings his hand down quickly and slides to the floor, leaning against the bookstand.
I mimic him and slid down next to him, hugging my legs with my arms. And then, we talk.
We talk about school, about the social chart, about why we were here, pretty much everything. He tries to tell me a joke; it isn't funny. But I laugh because he tried to make me laugh.
We're facing each other, now. Is this wrong? I mean, what if someone sees us?
But wow, he's gorgeous. I mean, he was always good-looking, but never gorgeous before. With tan-olive skin and that sexy-I-just-got-out-of-bed hair, not to mention those eyes, no wonder he's so popular. So what is he doing talking to me?
---
I look down to notice my hand wandering towards her own. Why is it that I'm so attracted to her? That I just want to spend every moment with her?
I told her a joke. She laughed; score one for Gar!
Out of the corner of my eye, so it doesn't look like I'm not looking at her, I see the clock. 11:03.
Shit, dad should be here any second now.
We talked about nothing really, but at least we talked. I love the sound of her voice. It's somewhat monotone and cold, but if she's making eye contact it's just lovely. I'm turning into a stalker, aren't I?
But before my hand reaches hers, I hear someone call my name, "Gar!"
I turn quickly to see my father standing with a confused look on his face. I turn back to Rachel, and all I see is fear in her eyes. Thinking quickly, I stand up and point at her accusingly.
"And furthermore, you need to have a chat with your father about those chemicals in your products! Not to mention all those rainforests he's cut down!"
I take a deep breath, winking at her before I walk off and join my father. The confusion has left his face and he's nodding approvingly. He slaps me on the back as we walk off towards the food court.
"You sure told her, eh son?" He grins at me as we order our food.
"Uh…yeah, Dad. I sure did."
---
When he first yelled at me, I thought he'd snapped and was going clinically insane and the next time I saw him would be on my television, watching the high speed car race with the men with the white coats chasing him, needles ready.
But then he had winked and I knew he was just acting. He's actually a rather good actor. He should go out for the spring play…I think they're doing a Shakespeare show. Probably Romeo and Juliet; they do it at least once a year.
I've been holding the same poetry book in my hand for about half an hour, and the girl at the counter is giving me a look that is saying: We-aren't-a-library-so-you'd-better-buy-it-if-you-ever-want-to-shop-here-again.
She looks about my age; I think I've seen her at school before. Dyed pink hair and pale, almost gray, skin, she's kind of hard to miss.
I plop the book down on the check out counter, pulling out a credit card. As she rings it up, she cocks an eyebrow at me. "Was that Gar Logan you were talking to?" I look past me, just to see if she was talking to anyone else. She wasn't; obviously. From her spot at the counter, she had the perfect view of Gar and I at our aisle.
"Uh…yeah it was. He wanted my opinion on something."
She smirks knowingly, running my card through a slot, "Must've been a pretty controversial opinion for you to talk on for thirty minutes."
My face hardens, staring into her eyes. That's usually when people turn away; I've perfected my 'fuck off' stare. But she just grins wider, handing me back the poetry book in a plastic bag.
I glance at her name tag for a moment. It read Jen. "Thank you…Jen," I say, with a sort of snooty attitude.
She shrugs, leaning in across the counter. "If you ask me, you've got a good chance with the guy. I hear he and Tara just broke up and he needs a shoulder to cry on. Although, you'll need to get past a few other girls. But if you ask me, you've got the advantage. Looked pretty cozy over there."
I glare at her before walking off. From behind me, I hear, "See you at school tomorrow, Rachel."
How did she know my name?
Once I leave the store, I break into a sprint. Knowing Kori, she's probably still at the food court…
---
"So, son, I got us tickets to the soccer game this afternoon. What do you say, you and me? We haven't done any male bonding in a while, and it could do your mother some good to have us out of the house."
I nod, grinning as I check over the tickets. I could use something to get Rachel off my mind. I rock on my heels as we wait in line, glancing around just to see if she happened to be around…
I spot her friend sitting by herself. Seconds later, I see Rachel run up to her and look like she was apologizing over and over again. I would've kept looking, if it weren't for the girl at the cash register. She smiled at me; I think she went to my school. "What can I get for you, today?"
I zoned out as my father placed our orders, vegetarian no doubt. My father knows what I like.
Right now, Rachel is the only thing on my mind. She slides into the seat; her back is now to me. But at least I can see her.
No! No, no, no!
Bad Gar, bad! I'm mentally slapping myself right now. Stalker Gar is nonexistent! I feel like one of those guys who are obsessed with girls and leave little love notes or write messages in flames on their yards. I won't admit it, but within the past two days, Rachel Roth has become my affection.
I entered puberty years ago! I'm supposed to be past this!
---
Kori was forgiving; she seemed to be smiling at something. It was in my direction, but it was past me. I turn slowly and see Gar with his hands dug into his pockets chatting with his father as they walked towards the other end of the food court. It wasn't a lovesick smile that I usually see when watching him or one of his friends, but a smirking grin.
"What?" I ask.
Kori just looks away, trying to keep the smile off her face. "Oh, nothing friend. I need to ask…were you with Garfield Logan when you left?"
I nearly choked on the soda I had in front of me. "What? No, Kori I went into the bookstore after my bathroom break. People like Gar Logan don't go into bookshops."
She just sipped her own drink, the smile never leaving, "I see."
Ohhh, Kori knows something!
I hope chapter 2 was what you wanted...I liked the idea. I want to thank RoseMage (Katie) and Rainbow-Jess (Jess) for helping me with some ideas. Please, do review!
I really hope you liked it!
Next chapter: School.