A/N: Alright, I know I said this would be a one-shot, and originally, that's all it was going to be...however, a few reviewers expressed interest in seeing me continue this story, and to be honest, I saw no reason to oblige. It's for the reviewers that I write. There are a few things you'll all soon learn about me...I'm a liar, I'm a bitch, I'm a pushover, easily persuaded, and nothing I say is final. Yup.
Thanks for your reviews; bob (NO, you are SO cool, afterall, you're bob!, not to mention the first to review...), VUWildcat, ElentariAngel (This one's for you, as you were the first to express interest in it continuing), RavenForever (YAY! You follow me everywhere...TO THE ENDS OF THE WORLD!...er...or just wherever I post a fanfic...), twistedRrocketLuv, RoxySurferGurl623 (Please don't cry, see I continued...)
Summary: When a rating game in the Zine leads to the revelation of Twister asReggie's mysterious kisser, things get a little complicated. Whereas, the two have yet to discuss what the kiss meant, and both have different thoughts of what was behind it and what it means.
ENJOY!
Complicating A Simple Kiss: Part 1
The sun was just beginning to peek out of the horizon, streaming rays of light down upon a small cul-de-sac. A young man sat on the curb outside of his house, leaning back on the sidewalk and staring out at the empty street. He was a familiar face in that neighborhood, known as Twister Rodriguez, though christened at birth as Maurice. It was an early Saturday morning, a might early for him to be awake. He was sporting a bruise on his cheek, and was slumped rather oddly, wearing a pained grimace, revealing that maybe that cheek wasn't the only injured party on his body. He'd gotten in a fight with his brother, Lars, the night before and it hadn't ended in his favor, though he had held his own fairly well. His parents were out of town, which meant there had been quite a few confrontations in the Rodriguez household the past few days. None of them ever ended well for Twister.
There was a resounding slam as a nearby door on the street opened and shut. A young woman made her way down to the sidewalk. She paused, noticing him, and smiled.
"Hey, Twist," she greeted.
"What's going on, Reg?" he replied, turning a slight pink in the face. Normally she would have come over to sit next to him, and they would chat about their plans for the day, their upcoming hockey game with Lars's team, and the possibility of going over to the Shore Shack for a little lunch that afternoon together with their other friends. But as Reggie fiddled with her t-shirt hem, and Twister studied his shoes, there was no doubt that things were not normal between them. Their minds were, needless to say, on kisses, and one kiss in particular. One they'd shared. They hadn't talked about it, almost silently agreeing that it was to be forgotten. And they did, for the most part, forget about it. When they were around their other friends everything was normal, and there was no awkwardness, no flustering. Things were as they'd always been. Twister and Reggie could talk and goof off like nothing had ever happened. But, then, when they were alone together for brief moments like the one they were sharing at that time being, an uncomfortable silence always seemed to cloud over them.
Twister frowned. He hated this. He'd always felt so at ease around Reggie before, and now…now he always had this lump in his throat, and his heart pounded so loudly in his chest that he couldn't hear the words she would say. Facts were, Twister liked Reggie. He always had, and ever since they'd both reached that stage of puberty when the hormones began to rage, and girls no longer had cooties, but several noticeably pleasant attributes, she was all he usually could think about. His guy friends would chat about girls and which one they thought was attractive that week, but Twister never joined in. They'd ask girls out on dates, to be steady girlfriends, but Twister never had. He couldn't tell Reggie, but that kiss was his first. It had meant a great deal to him, and been the bravest thing he ever mustered the courage to do; which said a great deal, as he was generally a courageous young man. It wasn't so much that he couldn't talk to her now, more so, that he was afraid to. She held in her hands the fate of his heart, and that was a scary thing.
"What happened?" Reggie demanded, and Twister looked up in shock at the quaver in her voice. She was staring intently at the discoloration in his cheek, concerned and enraged. Twister raised a hand to touch the raw skin gently, wincing as it moved some other rather sore muscles in his body.
"Oh, me and Lars got in a fight," he explained, then, putting on a brave face through his grimace, "It looks worse than it really is." Reggie scowled, making her way towards the Rodriguez house. "Where are you going?" Twister asked.
"To see Lars," she answered, "And for his sake, he better look as though he's in just as much pain as you." Twister was on his feet in an instant, which wasn't an easy feat, as his stomach, shoulder blades, and chest had taken the full assault of his brother's beating the night before and was in no condition for such swift movements. He placed his hands on Reggie's shoulders to restrain her.
"Chill, Reg. It's cool, I'm fine, see," Twister straightened to demonstrate his well being, "There's no need to start anything with Lars. Besides, he gave me such a whomping last night; I don't doubt he'll lay off for a bit. He's not a sadist." Reggie raised a skeptical eyebrow. "He's not home, anyways," Twister threw in. She relaxed, blushingly realizing the close quarters she was sharing with Twister. She could hear his breathing, sharp and soft. She looked up, met his eyes blushingly.
"You can let go now," she whispered softly.
"Oh, sorry," he mumbled, letting his hands fall to his sides. They were quiet again. It was a good time, Twister realized, to talk about the kiss. "Reggie," he started. They were startled by the sputter of an engine, turning to see a large movers' truck pull in on their cozy cul-de-sac. A fancy Mercedes Benz followed, turning into the driveway of the house next to Twister's, while the truck sidled along the curb. Twister stared in confusion. He hadn't even recalled that house being for sale.
The door of the car swung open, and an overdressed woman stepped out, looking around with a sour glare. A balding man in a well-pressed suit, most likely her husband, was struggling to pull himself from the driver's seat.
"This is Ocean Shores?" the woman puttered, "How detestable."
"Hey…" Twister found himself shouting in anger, but Reggie had placed a placating hand on his arm. A young man was climbing out of the backseat of the car. He looked like maybe he was a senior, well dressed. He was a blonde haired pretty boy, with a sophisticated smile, and a nice build. He gave the impression that he was not unfamiliar with athletics. Or women, Twister thought miserably, glancing to Reggie who was openly staring.
"I saw a beach on the way, mother," the young man spoke up, "I wanted to try surfing on my new board. My trainer says that I'm ready for real waves."
"Great, shoobies," Twister muttered, rolling his eyes.
"No," the woman spat, "You are not getting in that dirty ocean. Do you know what is in that water? Trash, from the local dump, sharks, and other disgusting and dangerous sea creatures, and Lord knows what else. There is no way you are getting in that ocean."
"Sweetheart," the balding man pouted, "This is a nice, small city. All the businesses are locally owned, the school is small, the crime rate is low…oh look," he had noticed Reggie and Twister, "Locals. Hello, little children," he called to them, enunciating each word as though he expected the locals to be slow and dimwitted. Twister rolled his eyes again, but Reggie tugged his arm.
"Let's be nice, Twist, and just go say 'hi' real quick to them," Reggie hissed, pulling him forward, "Hello. You guys must be new." Pretty boy perked up when he saw Reggie, smiling disarmingly, and extending a hand to her.
"Richard," he introduced himself, "But my friends call me Ricky." Twister took the hand before Reggie could, gripping it tightly and shaking it roughly.
"Twister. I'll be your new neighbor," he said stiffly, "And this is my friend, Reggie."
"Twister?" Ricky began snidely, ripping his hand from Twister's iron grip and attempting to shrug off the throbbing, "An amusing name. I'm sure your parents felt it suited you."
"It's not really my name, man," Twister started, thinking that maybe this young man was slower to catch on then him, but fell short. Ricky was grinning almost mockingly indicating the joke, "Oh…"
"We're the Stewards," the balding man spoke up, nodding politely.
"Unfortunately, my husband was transferred to this unpleasant little hovel…" the woman started, as her husband snaked an arm over her shoulders.
"Come now, Beverly, the movers need direction," he told her, giving her a nudge towards the house. She swayed slightly as she walked, searching her purse for a cigarette and lighter, oblivious as her husband turned back to the kids, "I apologize. She's used to more upper scale lifestyles. We were recently living in New York, after returning to the states from Paris…ah, but I should leave you children to chat." He patted his son's shoulder heartily, "I'm sure you'll all become fast friends." He disappeared up the walkway to the house after his wife. Ricky turned his winning smile back to Reggie, and she absently pushed her hair behind her ears.
"So…Paris," she chuckled, "That must have been nice."
"It was dreary, really," Ricky shrugged, "After seeing all the sights, it was quite boring. My mother enjoyed the shopping. I, however, was particularly fond of living in Tahiti. The beaches were astounding. My mother wouldn't allow me to attempt surfing until I'd had proper training. Of course, the beaches in Paris were beautiful as well, but they were all nude."
"Nude?" Twister repeated, stunned, "Who took the beaches' clothes?" Ricky frowned at Twister, staring blankly, though Reggie was smiling and shaking her head.
"He's joking, right?" Ricky burst into laughter, explaining, "The people were without clothes."
"Oh," Twister shrugged, "Who took their clothes?" Of course, Ricky only found this funnier. Twister looked to the ground, knowing enough not to laugh, as he was, after all, what was so funny. Reggie simply rolled her eyes, grabbing Twister's shirt and pulling him away.
"Let's go, Twist," she snarled, and he was all too happy to oblige. Ricky abruptly stopped laughing, sensing the hostility in the young woman's voice.
"Oh, come on, I didn't mean any harm," Ricky apologized, stepping in front of the retreating friends, "I only thought he was joking. No hard feelings," he all but shoved his hand into Twister's chest, unknowingly aggravating a particularly painful bruise, causing a great deal of wincing and a wounded groan. Of course, Ricky misinterpreted this, "I'm sorry. I guess I don't know my own strength," he looked to Reggie, "I didn't think he'd be so weak, though I suppose he is a little on the scrawny side."
"You okay, Twist?" Reggie asked, concern more than evident in her voice and softened features, as she lightly touched the pained boy's forearm, disregarding Ricky altogether.
"I'm fine," Twister mumbled, then, turning a sneer on Ricky, "Yeah, we're cool, bro." He pushed his way past, walking with frustrated steps up to his house. He hated looking so lame in front of Reggie, especially with this pretty boy around, "I'm going skating at the Pier, Reg, tell Otto when he finally wakes up." Otto Rocket, Reggie's little brother, and Twister's best friend was the largest reason the kiss was to be forgotten. There was no telling the reaction Otto would have if he were to find out about the kiss, let alone the toll it would take on the close relationship between the siblings.
"Twister?" Reggie started. He paused, turned slightly and smiled brightly, reassuringly, before continuing up towards his garage to grab his gear. She narrowed her eyes at Ricky. He was attractive, to say the least, but he wasn't quickly gaining favor with Ocean Shores favorite Rocket Girl.
"Did I offend him?"
"It was nice to meet you, Richard, but I have a friend to go see. And I don't doubt you have unpacking to do," Reggie said, and it took a great deal of willpower to hide the snarl edging its way across her tongue. She spun on her heel and continued across the street, hearing Ricky give a pathetic 'good-bye' and disappear into his new house. She was headed for Sam Dullard's home, one of her best friends, who helped her put together a magazine called the Zine. . It was where'd she'd been heading that morning before she saw Twister. Sherry had called last night with what she proclaimed to be the most awesome idea for a Zine article, and requested Reggie and Sam's audience.
Subconsciously Reggie's fingers came to trail along her lips. Sherry, and another friend, Trish, had been the reason behind that kiss Twister had given her. It had all stemmed from Sherry getting the kiss, and kindly pointing out that Reggie had yet to receive it. Reggie smiled slightly. It had been Otto who concocted some silly plan to get a guy to give Reggie the kiss. He'd dragged Sam and Twister into the ridiculous plot, and they'd chosen Sam to be the one to give Reggie the kiss. In the end, however, it had been Twister. So, as far as Reggie could figure, the kiss was nothing more to Twister than a ploy to cheer her up. That was just the way the boy worked. He cared deeply for his friends, and seeing them unhappy was the last thing he wanted. Just one of his many charming attributes.
It still made Reggie lightheaded, simply thinking about the kiss. She wasn't sure what she wanted the kiss to have been. For the longest of time there had only been three young men in her life. Her brother Otto, of course, Sam, and then, yes, Twister. They'd been her constants, the ones always by her side no matter what. "The boys" she loved dearly, despite how insane they tended to drive her. She'd thought about them on individual levels before. Pondered what each of them meant to her.
Otto was her brother, but that's not where he ended in her life. He was her lifelong best friend, her secret keeper; her strong shoulder to cry on, and one of the many loves of her life. They fought bitterly, but never laughed harder with anyone else. He got on her nerves, and showed an utter lack of respect for her authority, and protected her fiercely as she did him.
Sam was an irreplaceable companion. He was intelligent, and well versed in computer technology. Reggie could talk about things with Sam that would go completely over Otto and Twister's heads. He reminded her of the things she loved that weren't sports oriented. He let her live two sides of her life. He was her proverbial rock. Solid and reasonable, one of the strongest supports she had.
Now Twister was a different story. Reggie had never been able to place where Twister fit in her world; what he really meant to her. She'd known him for as long as she could remember, and she'd come to decide that maybe he was like a brother to her. But then that simple kiss had erased all of that. People don't feel the way Reggie felt after kissing their brother. Unless they were sick in the mind, which Reggie was pretty certain she wasn't.
"Hey, Reg," Sherry called, sitting on the front porch of the Dullard house next to Sam, "What took you so long. You're just right across the street."
"I…um…I stopped to talk with Twist and his new neighbors. Did you know someone bought that old house?"
"No," Sam answered, "What's Twister up to?"
"He went skating at the Pier," Reggie leaned back shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, "Man, his new neighbors are serious tools."
"I think I saw them the other day, coming by the house," Sherry spoke up, "The old man, and his son, the totally hot blonde?"
"Yeah, that's them," Reggie sighed, "Pops is cool, but the mom is a little on the witch side, and Richard is…from what I can tell, all show." She shifted slightly, choosing to leave out his unnecessarily harsh treatment of Twister. Maybe she'd read too much into Ricky's actions. From the way he'd spoken, it sounded as though he'd moved often, never being able to set down roots and make friends. He probably just didn't know what was appropriate behavior, though one would assume a monkey could figure out that how he was acting was exceptionally rude. She sighed. Twister wasn't exactly a prime example of politeness himself.
"Well, he can show it all whenever he wants, as far as I'm concerned," Sherry grinned and Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
"You called us here for…?" he pressed. Sherry clapped her hands together enthusiastically; her eyes alight with excitement.
"It seems it's perfect timing, what with Richard's appearance," she beamed, "Have I got a Zine project for you guys…"
"Just give it to us," Reggie groaned. If Sherry wanted that Richard involved, something told Reggie she wasn't going to like this idea much.
"How's this catch you? The Top 100 Hotties of Ocean Shores," Sherry announced, grinning broadly and expectantly to her friends. They stared blinking stunned at her.
"Um…Sammy, do you want to handle this?" Reggie said, clearing her throat.
"Well…explain it to us," Sam encouraged and Reggie narrowed her eyes at him.
"Sammy," she hissed, but Sherry just continued.
"I thought you could do an article kind of like all those teeny bopper rags do. You know, take all the eligible cuties here in Ocean Shores and do a poll with all the girls. You could take all the guys pictures and count them down all the way to whoever was voted number one in the Zine," Sherry jumped to her feet in her enthusiasm, "We'll take the guys at Ocean Shores High, and maybe the community college. We'll put their names and a few bits of information about them. It'll be totally awesome."
"Sherry, since when is the Zine some kind of lame teeny bopper rag?" Reggie demanded, skeptical of this new idea.
"Oh, come on Reg," Sherry pleaded, "I'll do the polls, I'll get the pictures of the guys, I'll do all the work…"
"Me and Reggie need a minute to talk this over," Sam excused them, before leading Reggie to the driveway where Sherry wouldn't be able to hear.
"I don't want to do it," Reggie bluntly stated.
"Come on, Reg," Sam begged, "A whole issue of the Zine that you don't have to do anything for. She's serious about doing all the work, you know. She's already got the names of all the guys taken down, and pictures for most of them, plus she's got this really efficient plan for doing the poll. It'll boost readers, too. Guys will want to see where they ranked, girls will want to see the guys."
"You just want to see where you rank," Reggie commented, arms crossed in front of her chest.
"Well, I am a guy of Ocean Shores," Sam chuckled nervously, "So I suppose I would be in the poll…heh…heh…" Reggie rolled her eyes.
"But think how some guys will feel, if they don't rank as high, or get outranked by some other guy, or don't even make it to the top 100? How would you feel? And what about between friends? What if you were outranked by Otto? Wouldn't you feel some kind of bitter resentment? Or worse, like…I don't know…less?" Sam sighed.
"Reggie, there's not a doubt in my mind that Otto would outrank me," he told her, "But it sounds fun. I guess we will have to get the permission of all the guys to put them in the polls; that way they'll understand the consequences. We'll explain it all to them and…come on, Reg." Reggie sighed, unfolding her arms and looking out to the street. She saw Twister skateboarding by. He smiled slightly at her, waving as he passed. She blushed, her hand coming up slightly in a returned gesture of acknowledgement. "Reggie?" Sam pressed, "I need an answer."
"Huh? Yeah, sure," she mumbled, "Whatever." There was a squeal over by the side of the house, and both Reggie and Sam turned in shock to find Sherry eavesdropping. She grinned sheepishly at them.
"I can do it?" she asked meekly. Sam nodded, giving her thumbs up. Reggie slapped her forehead in exasperation.
"What did I just agree to?" she muttered under her breath, then with a haggard sigh, "And, more importantly, what's wrong with me?" She'd lost all comprehension when she saw Twister. Her heart was pounding madly in her chest, almost as though it was trying to escape, and she was having a little difficulty getting her lungs to work properly. Breathe in, breathe out, she silently directed herself. Maybe she was sick in the mind.
-0-0-
Sherry went to work on the poll as soon as she'd left the Dullard house, enlisting the help of Trish. For days she worked feverishly, getting the permission of every boy, taking pictures, and then, polling everyone. Reggie had to admit, it was kind of fun being able to relax while someone else did all the article work. Almost a mini-vacation. She still had to write a few articles as filler, and Sam designed the layout, but it wasn't as much work as it would have been.
It was an early Saturday morning. Reggie watched as her brother, Otto, skated around, grinding the sidewalk and simply keeping himself busy. Sam sat next to Reggie on the curb, strapping his roller blades on and clucking appraisal of Otto's moves. They were waiting on Twister.
"Man, what is taking him so long?" Otto demanded, coming to a stop and popping the board into his hand, "We were supposed to be at Madtown half an hour ago!"
"Chill, Otto," Reggie snapped impatiently. Every five minutes he'd go into the same whine. She sighed, rolling her eyes and skating towards the Rodriguez house, "I'm gonna find out where he is." She pounded on the house's front door, and stood back. It wasn't a long time before the door swung open. Lars leered out, leaning against the frame, and glowering down his nose at Reggie. He'd gotten taller, bulkier, tanner, and grislier. A smug grin worked its way along his lips.
"How's it going, Rocket girl?" he greeted, "If you're looking for little Maurice, he's a bit preoccupied right now, but I am more than free to spend time with you."
"Is that Reggie?" a voice called in the background, before a lanky young woman pushed her way past Lars and flung her arms around the shocked Reggie.
"Cleo?" Reggie gasped, returning the embrace, "What are you doing here? Twister didn't mention you were coming!" They broke apart, and Cleo grinned at Reggie.
"Yeah, I know. He didn't know," Cleo shrugged, "It was a surprise visit. You can forgive him."
"Oh, okay," Reggie chuckled, "Speaking of which, where is Twist? He was supposed to meet us, we were going to Madtown."
"Cool," Cleo conceded, and then turned a glower at Lars, "Somebody was supposed to be helping him prep a place for me to sleep tonight." There was a crash in the background.
"I'm okay," Twister's muffled voice called from somewhere in the house. Lars broke into a fit of laughter.
"Oh, this is hilarious! He dropped the cot on his head," Lars gasped between bouts of sniggers, "Don't worry, Maurice, at least it didn't land on anything important!" Reggie peeked in, her concern evident while Cleo slapped Lars's arm.
"Quit teasing him," she scolded.
"Do you need any help?" Reggie called, and Twister looked up in shock, turning several shades redder than a normal blush when he saw her.
"No," he stammered, "I'm fine. See…I can handle it…" he attempted to lift the metal frame of the cot again, nearly stumbling and dropping it once more. It wasn't so much that it was heavy, more so, that it was too large for one person to move by their lonesome. Because of this, Twister was making a clumsy path towards the den. Lars broke into laughter again.
"Go help your brother," Reggie commanded, glowering up at Lars with a reproving eye. He grinned down at her slyly.
"I will…if you give me a kiss." The cot was dropped again.
"Ow!" Twister yelped from the other room, "I can handle it, Reg," he moaned, sounding as though he were in a great deal of pain, "I don't need his help!"
"Aw, come on Regina," Lars went on, coyly, just loud enough for his brother to hear, "Just a quick peck on the cheek, and you and little Maurice can join your dork brother at Madtown."
"Hey Lars," Otto's voice snarled, and Reggie glanced over her shoulder. Her brother stood with his arms crossed over his chest, sneering up at the taller Rodriguez boy with a great deal of loath. Sam was cowering somewhat behind him, "It may have worked for the frog, but I highly doubt a kiss will turn you into a prince." He shoved his way past Lars, pausing to smile awkwardly at Cleo and give a stuttered 'hi', before heading into the den. "You okay, bro?"
"Hey, Otto," Twister grinned sheepishly, "I would have been sooner, except I couldn't find the cot. It was hiding in the attic."
"Where's this thing supposed to go, anyhow?" Otto asked, glancing around the den, while lifting the frame off of Twister. Lars rolled his eyes in annoyance, before pushing his way out the door and heading towards the curb where his car was parked. Between the three boys, though Sam wasn't much help, they moved the cot and had it set up in no time. They invited Cleo to join them at Madtown, and of course, she obliged, and they headed to the popular skate park.
Cleo sat with Reggie on the park bench for a time, between skating, and they watched the boys tear up the place with skilled maneuvers.
"Sam's gotten better," Cleo noted, "But he's still behind Otto and, I guess, Maurice."
"Yeah," Reggie agreed, before turning to face her friend, "So, how long are you staying for?"
"Three weeks," Cleo answered.
"Don't you have school?"
"Alright, I have to tell you something, but you can't let it slip to the others," Cleo whispered, turning on Reggie with wide eyes and an excited grin.
"What? What's happening?"
"My parents are thinking of sending me here to attend Ocean Shores High for my last year of school. Back home, things have gotten way out of control in the schools. We have metal detectors, police at every door, things like that. It's way whack, like you have no idea," Cleo squealed quietly, "The reason I'm out here is because I got suspended for fighting. It was such a bogus rap too, I didn't even start the fight, though I sure as hell finished it."
"Whoa, wait," Reggie cried, "You're…what? You're coming to school here?" Cleo nodded exuberantly. "That is so awesome! Why can't I tell the guys?"
"Because nothings been settled, yet. If it goes through, I'll be living with Aunt Sandy and Uncle Raul. I'll be sleeping in Lars room, since he'll be away for college, but because I'll be moving in before Lars leaves…he'll have to bunk with Maurice, while I set up the room for me. We don't want them swaying the decision."
"Twist is not gonna be happy about that," Reggie said knowingly, glancing over to boy. He chose that moment to look at the park bench, noticed Reggie was watching him, and wiped out in the middle of his heel flip. His board rolled away, as he groaned, laying on his backside staring up at the sky. Another boarder pulled up to him, and Otto's face filled his vision.
"Nice beef, man," Otto said, extending a hand. Twister accepted the help, rubbing his lower back gingerly.
"Man, that was painful," Twister stated, making his way to his board limping.
"You okay, Twist?" Reggie called, she'd jumped to her feet when he fell, but was now sitting back down bashfully. She knew she shouldn't have reacted that way, seeing as how it wasn't the first time he'd ever fallen, and he was wearing all the proper safety pads and equipment. It had simply shocked her.
"Yeah," Twister replied, having turned a noticeable pink, knowing that Reggie had seen him screw up such a simple move. He looked to Otto, saying, "I think I'm gonna go get a soda, and sit down for awhile."
"Chat with the girls, huh?" Otto teased, "Whatever, man, I'll see you on the half-pipe, when you grow your backbone, again." He skated off, leaving Twister shaking his head and making his way over to the vending machines.
"Chill out, Reg," Cleo laughed, "You're on edge, girl. Don't tell me you're worried about Maurice." Reggie chuckled nervously, ringing her hands in her lap.
"No, of course not. I'm just a little jumpy," Reggie explained. Cleo raised an eyebrow skeptically, but said nothing more on the subject. At the entrance of the skate park, Reggie saw Sherry making her way over to the girls. She was smiling broadly, pausing to give her hellos to Sam and Otto racing around the park.
"Hi," she greeted, and then looking Cleo over, "Do I know you?"
"No. I'm Cleo, Maurice's cousin."
"Sherry. Reggie's friend."
"What are you doing here, Sherry?" Reggie spoke up, "Aren't you working on that poll?"
"Yeah…hey, Cleo, did you maybe want to vote?" Sherry said. Cleo straightened slightly, intrigued.
"Vote for what?"
"Sherry's doing an article for the Zine," Reggie explained, "She's doing a poll on the Top 100 hottest guys of Ocean Shores, something like that."
"Sounds cool," Cleo conceded, "Sure, I'll vote. Who are my choices?"
"Great," Sherry squealed, "You have to come vote too, Reg."
"What? I don't think that would be fair…I mean, I'm the editor of the magazine…" Reggie stammered, shaking her head enthusiastically. She flushed when Twister made his way over, a soda in hand.
"Hey, Sherry," he greeted, "What are you doing here?"
"Working on my poll."
"Oh, cool. Where do I rank so far?" Twister grinned.
"I don't know, yet," Sherry answered, "I haven't tallied the scores. After everyone's voted, that's when I'll add them up. You'll know when the next issue of the Zine comes out. Help me convince Reg that she needs to vote." Twister looked down to his soda, pink in the cheeks.
"Um…she shouldn't have to vote if she doesn't want to," Twister mumbled. He sank onto the park bench next to Cleo, opening the soda. Sherry promptly placed her hands on her hips, frowning. It didn't matter to him. He could probably predict whom Reggie would vote for; undoubtedly, Trent, or maybe even that Ricky guy.
"Reggie," Sherry pressed on, "Because you're the editor of the Zine is the very reason you should vote. What kind of impression does that give your readers? That you don't support this issue?"
"That I'm not boy crazy," Reggie retorted, then, seeing the hurt look cross over Sherry's face, "I mean…jeez…alright, Sherry, I'll vote."
"Thank you," Sherry exclaimed, "Let's go, ladies, to the voting booth. Yours are the last votes, and then the polls are closed. I'm tallying the votes tonight, and I will have everything set and ready for tomorrow. See you later, Twister."
"Um…bye?" Twister watched as the girls left the park, a sinking feeling in his gut. What did it matter to him who Reggie voted for, anyways? Why should he care where he ranked? Otto, and Trent, and probably Ricky too, would outrank him for certain. Not to mention, there were so many other better looking guys out there in Ocean Shores.
END A/N: Alright...so...uh....I can't really remember the episode that had Cleo in it, though I did watch it. I'm mostly going of how other fanfiction writer characterize her...
Oh, and a note on Twister's character for elentariangel. First of all, as guys get older, they don't mature, they just grow. A good example of this, is my father, who decided it would be fun to throw his new hackie (sp?)sack at me while I was on the computer, and then to giggle uproariously. Stupid jerk. Actually, most of Twister's personality in thes story was more acting on his part, if you read back over the first chapter knowing how it ends, you can see this (or maybe I'm crazy). I think Twister would, yes, mature, but I don't think he'd lose that naivity unless something incredibly drastic and tragic occured, forcing him to leave his air headedness behind. I don't think it's so much that he is stupid, or immature, more so, that he's kind of...hm...I don't know how to describe it. So oh well.
Please review. See how review persuaded me to continue with this? Despite the fact that I should be working on the next chapter of my story Killing the Daisies (which I am...I swear...see...it's open on my computer...hehe...) REVIEW! Reviews, in my opinion, are fun to write. So, go forth, and write a fun little review.
That's my spiel for the day. Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors you may have come across.
Thank you for reading.
Next chapter: Who ranked number one in the Zine mag? Will Twister and Reggie ever have a chance to chat about the kiss? How does everyone find out about Twister being the mysterious kisser? Will Ricky ever get knocked off his pompous high-horse? I could go on forever like this, but I choose not to.
ROCK ON!