Hooked On You

Hooked On You

a Jayla Starlight FanFic

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Chapter Two

Rushing To Be Early

Beep beep beep!

Spinelli hated that noise. It could have possibly been her absolute least favorite sound, especially when it was 6:45 in the morning. With an exasperated sigh, she turned on her side and stopped the infuriating beeping from her alarm clock.

"Just five more minutes…" Spinelli thought, staring at the beige ceiling. "Five more minutes, and I guess I'll get up… God, I'm tired." She rubbed her eyes sleepily; "this is what I get when I don't arrive home on time and stay up later than I should have," she concluded. She tired so hard to stay awake for those self-promised five minutes, but her eyelids were like magnets; without her awareness, they had slowly, but heavily, closed together. She drifted back off…

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"Honey, are you ready in there?"Mrs. Spinelli knocked on her daughter's door. "It's 7:30, you only have a half hour left!"

Spinelli awoke with a startle at the sound of her mother's voice and glanced at the clock. It was indeed 7:30.

"Damn it!" Spinelli threw the covers off her and bounded out of bed. "I must have dozed off! Man, I hate being rushed!" Like a flash, she darted out her bedroom door, into the hallway and to bathroom. To Spinelli's shame, she knew she had no time to shower, but she had her teeth to brush, and of course, other "bathroom priorities".

When Spinelli had arrived back in her room, she swiftly opened her closet door to pick an outfit. She had selected her favorite jeans; grey-colored, tight fitting on the behind, but loose fitting in the legs. For a top, she picked out a black tee with the silver words "Rock Star", heavily decorated with gleaming images and text, all relating to music.

These were choice words for Spinelli; besides skateboarding, a great interest of hers was music. Rock was her style of music, and she had been playing the guitar since the seventh grade. As told by people who had heard her play, she excelled at it. Before putting on her chosen clothes, she glanced over near her bedside at her sunburst colored JT-300 Classic Double Cutaway Electric Guitar; the one she had owned ever since she started to learn how to play. As it always seemed to do, the guitar seemed to seduce her, seemed to call out to her, "play me, Spinelli!" but of course, she had to resist the urge this time. She had to be somewhere in less than 30 minutes.

After she was dressed, Spinelli looked in the mirror, to find her hair in an unpleasant mess. Taking her hairbrush to it, she transformed her hair from a tangled disaster to a soft flow of black hair, layered, down a few inches past her shoulders. She never usually bothered to do much with it; she either pulled it back into a ponytail, or left it down, like she decided to do today. And she never straightened it. And, of course, being Spinelli, she never wore makeup. She thought she was fine just the way she was. Besides, in her opinion, makeup was girly. Spinelli, girly? The thought sounded outrageous. Sure, her appearance had feminized since elementary by a decent amount, but that was part of growing up. Spinelli could proudly say that she could grow up without makeup and obsessing over her hairstyle.

By the time Spinelli was finished getting ready and went into the kitchen, she had only seven minutes left to eat breakfast and head out the door. Could she do it, she wondered? She hated so much to be rushed at anything, especially eating. But to her dismay, she had no choice but to rush. She poured herself a bowl of Fruit Loops, abruptly sat down at the kitchen table, and ate with haste. She absolutely did not want to be late on her first day of high school.

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It was a bright and sunny September day, not a breeze to be felt. If you were standing still. In Spinelli's case, air whipped at her face as she hurriedly skated down the side of the road instead of the sidewalk, to avoid pedestrians. Her new school was only a few blocks from where she lived, so it was fair skating distance. But would she get there in less than one minute? It was nearly impossible, and she knew it, but hurried just the same.

Two and a half minutes over the limit, Spinelli finally arrived at her destination; High School. She knew by first glance this was definitely not Third Street Elementary School; instead of a playground, which had play equipment, a basketball court, and a kickball field, there was a courtyard, with benches, shrubs, flower beds, tall trees for shade, and a large fountain in the center. But that wasn't all that was in the courtyard.

Spinelli couldn't help but notice the mass of high school students standing around outside. Skateboard in her hand, one strap book bag over her shoulder, she walked through the crowd, baffled. Why were all these people still out here? Didn't school start at 8:00, almost three minutes ago? Spinelli decided to investigate.

"Excuse me," Spinelli said, nudging a rather tall, skinny boy with wavy, shoulder-length blond hair, who was standing alone. "Why isn't anyone going inside?"

The boy gave her a warm smile. "Well, perhaps everyone is enjoying this fine morning weather, as I am myself. Care to join me?"

With slight apprehension, Spinelli raised an eyebrow at the boy, fully knowing his response wasn't that of a typical teenager. Was that truly his personality, or was he just coming on to her?

"I thought school started at 8:00," Spinelli pointed out to him, "It is-"she glimpsed at her watch, "8:03!" she glimpsed at it again, "no, wait, 8:04 now!"

The boy gave a hearty laugh. "Goodness, wherever did you hear that? School begins at 8:30!"

Spinelli paused, letting what she just heard sink in.

"You've got to be kidding…" Spinelli said, almost darkly. Damn her mother for telling her school started at 8:00! She couldn't believe she had rushed for nothing! To think she could have had a shower this morning! At the thought of this, she shifted uncomfortably, hoping her deodorant would cover up that fact.

The boy put a gentle hand on Spinelli's shoulder, catching her by surprise. "I tell you the truth, my friend. Learning starts at 8:30."

Spinelli took an upward glance at the boy with the hand on her shoulder. Something was definitely different about him; the way he had with his words clearly stated that he wasn't like any other teenager. And being so, she thought she would feel awkward, standing alone with him, but to her amazement, she felt surprisingly serene, quite comfortable, just like he seemed to be about her.

"Oh, I cannot wait until 8:30!" the boy said with delight. "I have English class first, it should be so enlightening! What class do you have first, may I ask?" He dug into his jeans pocket. It was then that Spinelli realized that she did not have her school schedule.

"Where do you get those things?" Spinelli pointed at the unfolded sheet of paper the boy had just gotten out of his pocket.

"Did you not get mailed a school schedule? Everybody else had them mailed to them… perhaps you should check at the office; maybe yours got misplaced in the mail, or quite possibly they failed to remember to mail it."

"Well, I am sort of new to the area…" Spinelli figured this was the reason. She had only been back in this town for about four days; they most likely did not get her new address. "I suppose I should go find the office and get my schedule, huh?"

"A very excellent idea, my friend!" the boy beamed. "And let me just say, welcome to the area! It'll be wonderful to have you here!" He extended his hand in greetings.

Spinelli thanked him and shook his hand with a quirky smile. This guy was priceless. She didn't know what exactly was up with him and his eccentric ways, but she knew she'd have to hang with him again sometime, just for kicks.

Before Spinelli turned to walk away and go inside the school, the boy said one last thing. "If you ever need a friend to speak to, I'll lend you my ears. My name is Michael. Michael Blumberg. But you may call me Mikey."

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