Author's Notes: Well folks, I actually managed to get this up early :D I really like this chap 'cause I'm finally getting a little action in the fic ^^ I'll also give you a little hint: If you're a little hentai waiting for anything that might make this fic deserve the rating, stay tuned to chap 9 ;)
Chapter Seven: Clash
Thursday was a little less chaotic. I felt the need to smash my head against the nearest wall when my mom greeted me the next morning, acting way too happy for the early hour and unnerving me greatly when she sat down on the edge of the bathtub to watch me put on my make-up.
"Why do you wear make-up as well?" She wondered aloud and I inwardly groaned.
"'Cause although it's just a bet I still want to look as good and authentic as possible." I answered nonetheless.
"And where did you learn to do that?" She grinned. I knew then that she was sent by Satan to make my life hell. Oh, wait, that was Seifer's part.
"Watching you. Now would you please shut up? I'm not in the mood to talk." With that, my day resumed. Training wasn't much worse than school and at least I didn't have to wear my skirt 'cause we had to wear our training suits. Plus Seifer made sure the others didn't freak me out too much. I silently thanked him for using his brains once in a lifetime. I think he knew that.
On Friday I decided to make one last try to win Rinoa's heart or at least make her realize my feelings for her. As an involuntarily member of the Festival Committee, I knew the party this Saturday would be my last chance and made sure this would be a party no student would forget too soon. I'd even made Seifer's posse help us organize some of the decoration although The Prick made sure I owed him one. Hopefully HE would owe me after tomorrow when I would HOPEFULLY be able to ask Rinoa to be my prom date. I had even been too busy with ignoring all the snide remarks about my skirt for the last five days and trying to make this party as awesome as none before to laugh when Zell was caught making out with Cynthia in a classroom during lunch hour. Everything seemed to be focused on the single night that would hopefully change my life. And change it did.
Standing in front of my mirror on Saturday evening, I tried to calm my nerves. Not only did I have to go to that party wearing a skirt, but I would also have to find a date for prom or else Seifer would make me wear a dress for the graduation ceremony AND prom. Life sucks. Mine in particular.
I finished my make-up with a pastel-colored lip gloss and made my way downstairs to tell my parents where I was going. I entered the living room and started opening my mouth when I was greeted with the most earsplitting noise I'd ever heard. It took me three full seconds to cover my ears with my hands to try and block out the noise and another two seconds to realize that the noise was my father shouting something at me I couldn't quite understand. My mother rushed into the room and started screaming back. I felt like I had just walked straight into a Nine Inch Nails concert without the music and the awesome lyrics. Oh, and without Trent Reznor, which is a pity 'cause he's really hot. But other than that, it reminded me a lot of NIN. Finally they both shut up when I started singing "March of the Pigs" and congratulated them for being as loud as a Rock concert. They both stared at me like I was a space alien. Well, now or never.
"I'm heading out for our pre-graduation party. I dunno when I'll be back but might not be before tomorrow. Good-night." With that I turned around and approached my boots, when my father said something I won't forget my whole life.
"You're not going anywhere in that stuff. You look like a fucking hooker!" I stopped dead in my tracks.
It was like the strange scenes in those movies when the protagonist is confronted with a difficult decision. My parents both stopped as well, my father waiting for a reply, my mother shocked at what my father had said and I didn't move an inch while I screwed my eyes shut and tried to fight down the tears threatening to fall. I had never felt this bad in my whole life. Never had my father used insults in my presence, never had he screamed at me like that, and never had he made me feel like he didn't accept me the way I was. I knew I liked this outfit and maybe, just maybe, I had accepted the fact that I might be bisexual and my step-father made it very clear he had no interest whatsoever in being my father if I wore anything that might show my sexuality. I felt disrespected and cast out.
When I had finally controlled myself I turned around and glared at my father like I had never glared at anyone before. Not even Seifer.
"Oh, really? You know what? Screw you!" I grabbed my jacket and keys, put on my boots without tying them up, and stormed out the door. Now you know where I got my name from.
Once outside, I almost ran back inside when I saw the person waiting for me. Sitting on that damned awesome motor-cycle, wearing not his leather clothes but his party outfit of loose pants and a tight shirt – which almost made me drool – and smirking up at me was Seifer, one helmet in each hand, probably making sure I came to the party no matter what. My first instinct turned into utter relief and I jumped down the front stairs at the same time my parents yanked the door back open to shout at me some more. I put my jacket on in a rush, pocketing my keys and grabbed the helmet Seifer offered me. By now I didn't care what my parents thought when I hopped onto the bike behind Seifer and pressed my body into his so I could wrap my arms around his waist to make sure I wouldn't fall off. Judging by the looks of it, my father's suspicions were confirmed. Seifer pulled out of the parking space and made his way over to our school.
