Vampire Kisses fanfiction
PLASTIC PROMISES
Claude Sterling/OC: Madeline Torrent

Chapter 06.

Taking a deep breath, Maddie approached Travis at lunch, who was, of course, sitting with his baseball boob buds. She gripped the strap of her book bag tightly and walked up to him, planning alternatives in case Plan A didn't work out. In a way she actually hoped it didn't work.

Jock eyes lifted to meet hers, staring at her with curiosity. It wasn't until Travis realized that nobody was listening to what he had to say when he turned around and found Maddie standing behind him, looking at her feet. His eyebrow arched and he gave her a slight sneer.

"Well, well, the monster is back for more torment, huh?" he said snidely. Maddie glared and bit on her bottom lip. This was a mistake.

No. This was for her own good. She needed something that did not involve dancing and seeing that goth boy. It would be a while until she went back to the studio. She'd need to find a new place to do her dancing. But she needed something to get her mind off of her trauma first.

"Travis, I was … wondering if …"

It wasn't too late to turn on her heel and walk back to her lunch table. There was a veggie wrap and Diet Coke that was just dying to come out of her bag.

No wait … dying … She couldn't think of the word. It was taboo. Anything related to death was taboo. And, now that she thought about it, so was eating.

She was imaging him crouched over her, fangs bared at her. She could distinctly remember his fingertips pushing back her hair and grazing her neck, his eyes ogling at her jugular. What the heck was the guy's problem? Did he seriously think he was a vampire?

Maddie felt her body shaking and heard a couple of the guys laughing at her weirdness. However, Travis was staring at her with the same concern as he had outside of the girls' bathroom.

"What's wrong with the monster? Is she having a seizure?" asked one of Travis's dopey friends, chortling with his buddies. Travis shot him a glare.

"Shut up, Erik," he snarled and Erik suddenly looked taken aback. Travis turned back to Maddie. "Maddie, what's wrong?"

She shook her head and sighed heavily. "Nothing. Nothing. I'm fine." She glared at the baseball players before spinning on her heel and leaving.

Okay, not exactly had she planned on that happening, but she should have expected it. After all, these were the baseball boobs she was talking about. And because Travis Mitchell was their king and he tormented her, all of them felt it was their duty to do the same. Pretty much the only reason why Maddie couldn't get along with the jock clique was because Travis was their leader. Besides, she didn't speak stupid.

Deciding to skip on lunch since she couldn't get the nasty image of the goth boy eating her innards in the alley out of her mind, she walked out of the cafeteria and towards her locker. Might as well get prepared for her next class. Besides, Plan A was a flop. Who cared? She just needed to take her mind off of things. She suddenly wondered how late the gym was open after school, after weightlifting was over, of course.

"Maddie! Wait up!" called Travis from behind. Maddie reluctantly stopped and slowly turned towards the baseball boob.

"Hi, Travis. Listen, about back there … nothing to worry about! I'm fine and you should really go back to joking with your boobish friends. Bye!" she said quickly and turned around, walking feverishly towards her locker. However, a strong hand gripped her elbow back.

"Please. I'm not stupid. You were shaking back there, just like when you came out of the bathroom. Can't you tell me what's on your mind?" he asked, sincerely. Maddie narrowed her eyebrows. Travis was always hard to read. Sometimes he pulled this sincere and kind act, but then, the next thing you know, he's making fun of you behind your back. Maddie learned the hard way not to trust Travis. She couldn't give in. But, she supposed that Plan A was back in action, now that Travis was using his "caring" mask.

She sighed heavily. "Okay well … I just wanted to know if your cousin was having another soccer game. I guess you can finally introduce me as your 'girl,'" she said sarcastically. However, she wasn't sure if Travis caught the hint in her reluctant tone. She only saw him beaming with victory. Was it too late to back out now?

Travis threw an arm around her shoulders and held her tightly to his side. She got a whiff of the expensive cologne he used everyday and reframed from gagging.

"You bet, sweetheart. Trevor's going to love you," he said suavely. Maddie faked a chuckle and pushed away from Travis.

"Yeah, um, first off: don't call me sweetheart, or any pet name. Secondly, I'm not going so I can meet your cousin. I've got a lot on my mind and I need something to clear it," she said. Travis arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Why don't you just dance yourself away from your thoughts?" he asked. Maddie rolled her eyes and stubbornly looked at the ground.

"Because that's not really an option right now," she muttered. Travis scoffed.

"Well whatever. You'll find soccer to be a much amusing sport than you think. And maybe afterwards, you might want to check out my baseball games once the season comes around," he suggested with a wink.

"I highly doubt it," she muttered.

"I'll pick you up around five. The game doesn't start until seven, but since it's in the next town over it takes maybe thirty minutes to get there. Plus, I figure we could squeeze in some us time." Travis reached for her waist, but Maddie steered clear from his eager hands.

"Pick me up at six thirty, and no earlier. There will be no us time," she snapped. Travis stuffed his hands in his pockets and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. You don't know what you're missing."

"Believe me, I do."

Travis, of course, disregarded Maddie's instructions to pick her up no earlier than six thirty and went ahead and arrived at the time he had originally planned. Maddie had been in her room, history textbook in her lap with her legs folded up, writing the essay that was due at the end of the week. Melinda was on her bed as well, although laying flat on her front and thumbing through a National Geographic, taking a good look at the special feature article of a baby snow leopard. Maddie was completely oblivious to the knocks on the front door, but that was because she had her uncle's old iPod blasted to Coldplay. Melinda had gotten up to answer it and had led Travis to their bedroom.

When Maddie saw the baseball star leaning against the doorframe, she quickly jumped from her bed, her book and papers falling to the ground.

"What are you doing here?" she shouted over her music. Melinda and Travis winced from her yelling and Maddie sheepishly turned off her iPod. "I-I mean … what are you doing here?" she repeated in a much lower tone.

"I'm here to pick you up," said Travis smugly. Melinda walked back to her bed, looking back over her shoulder at Travis and then switching gazes to Maddie in curiosity. Maddie merely glared.

"I told you not to come any earlier than six thirty! It's bad enough I'm going to have to spend all night with you!" she exclaimed.

"You're the one who came up to me asking to bring you to the soccer game!" Travis shouted back. Maddie rolled her eyes and tossed a firm look to her younger sister.

"Mellie, didn't Mom ever tell you not to open the door for strangers?" she asked her. Melinda arched an eyebrow.

"That's Travis Mitchell," she said, as if he weren't standing in their doorway. "He's no stranger, not to us. And it sure doesn't look like he's a stranger to you, either."

Travis snickered. "I like you, kid. Wanna come to the soccer game?" Melinda gave him a strange look.

"A soccer game? No thanks. I don't even know why Maddie's going, instead of spending her night dancing at the studio," Melinda said, going back to her magazine. Maddie glared and Travis arched an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, you and me both."

"Okay well, I won't need to see you for another hour and a half, so you can go down hang around the jock store and buy some jock stuff and then come back when it's time to pick me up. I said to come at six thirty, not five," Maddie instructed. Travis rolled his eyes and smirked. He walked inside the small bedroom, already crowded with all three of their bodies and the furniture. Maddie knew the size of Travis's bathroom was probably the size of her entire apartment complex and could already feel mocking vibes from him. Once this act of kindness streak wore off, she knew he'd be making fun of her wealth (or lack there of) at school.

He picked up her textbook and scooped up the loose-leaf papers that had fallen to the floor, placing them on her bed. He eyed the page she was on and smirked again, which really got on Maddie's nerves.

"Huh. Doing your essay on the Great Depression. 'Course you would. With your experience …"

Laughing, he quickly ducked out of the line of fire as she threw her water bottle towards him. Melinda looked at them both before gathering her magazine and bolting for the door.

"I'm out of here," she mumbled as she escaped for the family room/kitchen.

"Just leave," muttered Maddie, sitting back down on her bed and snatching her textbook and papers. "I'm having second thoughts about going to the soccer game anyway."

"Aw, come on Maddie," cooed Travis, sitting on the edge of her bed next to her knees. "You don't mean that." He ran his hand along her leg and, widening her eyes, kicked him.

"Get off! And don't touch me!" she cried. Travis got up from the bed, raising his hands in the air defensively.

"Whoa, whoa. No need to get angry. Although, I do like my girls feisty." He grinned and she glared.

"And I like my jocks out of my life. That includes you!"

Travis placed a hand over his heart. "Oh, you consider me your jock? How thoughtful." Maddie groaned.

"I need to finish this essay. Can you please leave me alone for the sake of my grade, at least?" she asked with a sigh. Travis stared at her long and hard and, for a second, she thought he'd take off the kind mask and return to the jerk she knew him as. Instead, he sat back down on her bed, Maddie folding her legs up so her knees reached her chin, as if being near Travis would give her a disease, and he took the textbook and loose papers from her, scanning the first few paragraphs of her essay.

"You've got a good start, but I'd recommend you write a stronger thesis and lay off the information in your intro paragraph. Don't give away too much of your essay in the beginning, or else you'll have nothing to write about," he advised. Maddie stared at him as if he had grown three heads in front of her. Travis rose his eyebrows and sucked his lips, handing her back the book and papers.

"What? Can't I give you advice for your essay? I said you had a good start," he said. Maddie shook her head.

"Okay, you have to be the most bipolar person I have ever met," she finally said. Travis looked at her strangely.

"Me? Bipolar? How? If anyone's bipolar, it's you. Ever since this morning at school you've been acting really weird. You're jumpy and then grouchy and then scared … What? Are you on your period or something?"

Maddie flushed a deep crimson as she narrowed her eyebrows. No, she wasn't on her period, but if he had known what had happened last night, then he'd understand her behavior. Besides, today was only one day of being bipolar; Travis was bipolar everyday of the week, ever since elementary school.

"Whatever. Okay, you've helped me. You can go, now," she snapped.

"Wow. No thank you? You're a keeper," he said sarcastically. Maddie glared.

"Hey, I'm going to the soccer game, aren't I?"

"Because you wanted to go," he reminded. Maddie shook her head and groaned, throwing her arms in the air.

"Fine! Stay. I don't care. Just let me finish my essay and don't bother me. Don't talk to me, don't touch me, don't get anywhere near me. Got it? You might as well go watch TV in the family room. Let me be at peace," Maddie said, waving a hand towards the door.

"Do you have digital cable?" he asked. Maddie glared at him again, as if the question insulted her. Actually, in a way, it did. As if Maddie's family had enough money to afford digital cable. They couldn't even afford a satellite dish.

"You'll deal with what we have," she snarled.

"You don't have digital cable?" Travis gasped. "You don't know what you're missing!"

"No, and I don't care! Now can you get out of my room before I call the cops for breaking and entering and harassing!" Travis rolled his eyes, broke into a fit of laughter, and finally left the room. She groaned and slouched against the headboard. Things would have been so much easier if Travis Mitchell had just never been born.