Memo: Oh. My. Goodness. Can I just tell you that you guys are seriously the most amazing bunch of fans an authoress could ever dream of having? Because I am seriously stunned right now. Chapter Nine has been out two days. Just two days, but it already has 11 reviews. Wow. In addition, this Reader Traffic thing? Best feature ever. Did you know people in Bulgaria are reading this? That's so exciting! That's so beyond exciting. I can always hold on to the thin hope that it's my good friend who lives there in the summer, but that hope is slim. Oh well. (Someone from Ireland read this too…I'm feeling the pressure now. And I hope they reviewed…) I never even thought people in India and Australia and other wonderful places would WANT to read this. I'm blown away right now. Anyway, enjoy Chapter Ten. You've earned it.
Too excited to list all the reviewers. You know who you are. You know you rock my world. The Rabid Review Bunny has never been so well feed. TAKE THE POLL!
Really long A/N, sorry. But for later, Caoimhe name is spelt differently when Kris says it because that's how she assumes, based on pronunciation, it is spelt.
:Story Start:
As hard it is to believe, things were relatively calm after that. Well, it was calm, until I had to explain to Raleigh exactly what the words I had scrawled across his forehead with a Neon Pink Sharpie meant. As the writing on his arms (I Love Barbie in big, curly-q writing), I think he was just trying really hard not to think about it. It was also a lot easier to hide your arms then your forehead. Maybe I'd gone a little bit overboard with this whole 'revenge' notion. …And maybe he shouldn't have dyed my hair blue. I am a summer, not a winter.
I was pulled out of my thoughts as Raleigh jerked me back in to our dorm room.
His face was quite a lovely shade of red, which I wouldn't say really went well with the Neon Pink Sharpie. But that was just a theory…
"What in the hell," He started, putting emphasis on the last word. "Are the Jeans of Justice?"
I snickered happily. The only thing better than writing 'Property of the Jeans of Justice' across Raleigh's forehead was knowing that since Ireland didn't have CBS, he wouldn't have the faintest clue what it meant. Let me tell you, confusion is a really good look for Raleigh.
"Oh yes," I said nonchalantly, skipping over to my bed. "The good 'ole Jeans of Justice."
Raleigh was practically snarling at me. "Yes, the good 'ole Jeans of Fricking Justice. Now tell me what the hell they are!"
I smiled angelically up at him. "The Jeans of Justice, my Fine Young Gentleman, are worn by the one and only Don Eppes from the best TV-series of all time, Numb3rs." Here I threw my giant poster a reverent look, and caught Raleigh throwing it a very irreverent one. It appeared he was catching hold of where this conversation was heading. "Said jeans, when worn by said amazing actor, happen to portray certain assets of his body quite well. Hence, the Jeans of Justice."
There was little to no expression on my roommates face as he replied. "They're called the Jeans of Justice because they make his ass look nice."
"Wow!" I said happily, bouncing up and down. "You catch on fast!"
Raleigh continued as if he hadn't heard me. "You then made me property of these, these…Justice Jeans."
I nodded serenely. "You know," part of me couldn't help but informing him. "There's even a Jeans of Justice League."
Raleigh stared at me calmly, gave himself a good look-over in the mirror, and said in an eerily happy calm, "I'm going to kill you."
"Eep!" I said, stumbling off the bed. "Now remember, its violence that got into this whole mess." Raleigh gave me a dirty look as I flashed the peace sign before running and locking myself in the bathroom.
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
It was Monday now, and I was sitting in my French III class, bored out of my mind. Honestly, I wasn't really good at French at all. But back in Seattle, I'd needed three years of one language. By then I was sick of Spanish, and it came down to suffering through the mundane French classes or taking Japanese and watch my G.P.A. flush itself down the drain. So I'd settled on French class, and was now thoroughly regretting it. Why on Earth did French have to be so boring?I mean honestly. It was all I could do to not fall asleep or slam my head repeatedly against the desk.
Of course, I had this class with Raleigh and Artemis, but Raleigh was across the room sitting with Finn, and I wasn't allowed to talk to Artemis until tomorrow. When I snuck glances at roommate and his friend, it seemed like they were actually paying attention. Well, at least Finn was. Finn was actually staring at the teacher with a look of rapture I had never seen on his face. Raleigh was too, now that I think of it. They were probably thinking of what she looked like shirtless. Unless they were really and truly interested in verb tenses. Which I highly doubted, those filthy Irish perverts.
As for Artemis, I was completely ignoring him as promised. It was harder than I'd thought it would be. Not because he was on my mind all the time, because he wasn't. I wasn't like Shelby, I didn't need to be thinking of boys every second of my life. No, it was difficult because he kept looking at me!
The boy kept shooting these looks that I just couldn't make sense of. They were thoughtful, but not in the way a boy's gaze ought to be if he were thinking thoughtful things about a girl. Not the way Brendan's eyes used to get thoughtful about me before he went and did the Unspeakable Act of Treason and Heart-breaking Potential, or UATHP for short, back in September. But I was over that now, and Artemis was still shooting me looks. The type of looks that suggested something might be afoot and made a girl squirm uncomfortably in her seat. Which I promptly did.
Trying to keep my mind off the puzzling boy three rows back and his Looks, I settled on thinking about something much happier, uplifting, and in no way, shape or form as confusing as Artemis: Yesterday.
.:.:.:.:.:.Flashback.:.:.:.:.:.
"So," I asked calmly, walking a few paces behind Raleigh as he led me on what seemed to be a beautiful tour of the grounds. Not like I didn't need it, because I sort of did, but it seemed an odd way to pass a Sunday afternoon. Finn and Jake weren't even tagging along, which was practically an all-time first. "Exactly where are we headed?"
Raleigh was walking in front of me, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He was wearing a tank top, why I'm really not sure because it's not like Ireland is known for warm, balmy autumns, and the words 'I Love Barbie' were beginning to fade from his sink. This was helped along by the one and a half hours he'd spent vigorously rubbing himself with soap (my soap, might I add) in our bathroom. This is especially helpful when a girl wants to shower. Not.
"Home." He said simply.
I took it this meant his home, since although I wouldn't be surprised if this school did have it's own airport somehow I highly doubt it.
The real question is 'why are you dragging me with you!'
Of course, when I asked him this, Raleigh apparently didn't feel like gracing me with an answer. Instead, he turned around and gave me a mysterious smile before tweaking my not-yet-back-to-its-normal-colored hair.
The O'Connor's house was relatively small, but had the most wonderfully homey look to it. The house itself was whitewashed, and had a black tiled roof. There were several windows and the door leading inside was a cheerful red color. Outside the house was a garden full of sturdy-looking plants and vegetables. To my utter delight, further back, almost hidden from view, there was a small swing set. I loved swings; they were my favorite part of every park.
Raleigh caught my excited gaze and his mouth twitched up. "I've got a little sister." I explained. "Caoimhe might even let you play with her, if she thinks you're trust-worthy enough. Not just anyone gets to go on that swing set."
"Keivey?" I asked, testing the name out on my tongue.
Raleigh nodded as what appeared to be a small mass of black curly hair came dashing out of the door. He gave a small smile, his eyes kind, and sunk into a crouch.
"Raleigh!" the mass of curls, which I could now see was a little girl that looked about Hope's age. "You came home to see me!" She ran straight at my roommate before launching herself into the air, a large smile plastered to her face.
The boy in question caught the child with practiced ease and swung her around, laughing slightly. "Caoimhe! Good to see you again, molly."
"Molly?" I said, completely confused now. "I thought you said your sister's name was Keivey!"
Raleigh laughed. "Molly is slang for girl here, Kris. Yeh've really got to get used to it."
There was movement from inside the house. "Is that my boy I hear outside? My baby boy came home to see his own family at last?"
Once again Raleigh turned beet red, and Caoimhe giggled and poked his cheek playfully. "Christ, it's only been eight days since she's seen me. And she wonders why I never bring friends over." Still grumbling moodily, he stuffed Caoimhe into my arms before stalking off.
Smiling down at the wriggling little girl in my arms, I leaned my face in towards hers. "What do you say we make a date with your swing set?" I asked grandly, as Caoimhe clapped.
And that was how I had found myself pushing Raleigh's younger sister on the swing set behind their house, laughing and giggling as if she was my own flesh and blood. It made me think guiltily of Hope, who worried about me everyday, but there would be plenty of time for calling them later today…
"Higher!" Caoimhe giggled. "Push me higher Kris!"
I willingly obliged, pushing the girl with all the strength my arms could muster. Now this was way to spend an afternoon. There was nothing to worry about out here in the O'Connor's backyard. There were no boys dyeing your hair weird colors or mysteriously switching between ignoring you and tolerating your existence. Nor were there mysterious, introverted genius boys to puzzle over. No one had asked me to marry them, or stopped walking down a hallway to give me a good stare. It didn't matter that I was still irritated with Raleigh for what he'd done. The sky was a calming, overcast gray color and I was having the time of my life.
"May I teach you a song sweetie?" I asked, still pushing her.
I could see Caoimhe bobbing her head up and down.
Smiling, I slowed down my pushing to explain. "When I was your age, I sang this song with my friends all the time. It's called the Telephone Song." As I was explaining, Raleigh walked out of the house into the backyard. Grinning slightly to myself, I continued as if I hadn't noticed. "And I'm going to show you how it works by singing it your dear brother." By now I had almost stopped pushing.
"Hey Raleigh!" I sang, my natural soprano voice lilting.
"What do you want?" he asked, glancing my way casually, somewhat thrown off by the singing.
"Hey Raleigh!" I sang again, as Caoimhe stopped the swing to gaze at us curiously.
"Seriously Kris, what do you want?" he asked, vexed.
"You're wanted on the telephone!" I sang back happily.
He glanced around once before throwing me a deadpan-annoyed look. "We're outside, eejit."
It's not like I didn't mind being called an idiot in Irish slang, that much I had picked up on in the past week, because I totally did. However, I was still teaching Caoimhe a song and it was not good manners to insult someone right back in the middle of a lesson.
"Relax Just Raleigh." I teased. "It's just a song. Although I don't think you know the right responses."
Hazel eyes serious, Raleigh took a step towards me, his jaw set. "Then teach me." He breathed.
Hole. Lee. Crap on a stick. I'm restarting my heart now, I swear to God I am. Apparently, completely serious is also a good look on Raleigh.
Taking a deep, heart-restarting breath, I explained. "Well, first I pick a person. Say it's you again. And I say, 'Hey Raleigh.' Then you respond with, 'I think I hear my name.' After that I say 'Hey Raleigh' again except this time you respond, 'I think I hear it again.' To that, I reply, 'You're wanted on the telephone.' You pick someone else near by and reply, 'Well if it's not Insert Person of Your Choice HERE, then I'm not home!' and it sort of just continues on like that." I finished lamely with a vague wave of my hands.
There was an awkward pause in which Raleigh looked at me with vaguely curious eyes and Caoimhe kicked her feet in the dirt. Then the little girl saved my poor, awkward soul by chirping: "Let's try it!"
.:.:.:.:.:End Flashback.:.:.:.:.:.
I barely noticed the bell when it rang, except to note that it was finally the end of that horrible French class. Of course, we left with an insane amount of what I called homework but what Finn and Raleigh insisted on calling 'eccers'. After French class we dragged ourselves off to Yoga, which blissfully quiet and Artemis-free. Raleigh informed me then that he probably wasn't going to be back in the dorm for a couple of hours, because he and Jake had a Gaelic project due the next day. This was welcome news. I really needed a shower, and we had both agreed that it would be better to take showers when the other wasn't there to accidently walk in, or see you walking out.
By the end of the day, I was so glad to see my dorm room that I quite literally hugged my bed. And the best part? No one else was around to laugh at me for it.
After my Bed-And-Kris bonding session, I decided that hygiene should really be next on my list. Not only was I covered with chlorine from my swimming class, but I also hadn't had a chance to shower since I returned from my visit with Caoimhe (who had demanded I return soon and teach her another song) as Raleigh had promptly buried himself in his pile of homework and refused to move.
The shower was blessedly warm after the chilly Irish October weather that was playing on outside.
For a while I just let the hot water run.
Ireland was very…different from anything I'd ever seen and anywhere I'd ever been. The language was different, my mom must have been lying when she'd said that I didn't need to worry because everyone over here spoke English anyway. This English wasn't exactly the one I was used to. (I mean, eccers?) For gods' sake, they even swore differently over here. No one seemed to have any problem using the f-word to strengthen a sentence or adjective, but the word 'feck' seemed to be off-limits. I'd heard Finn and Jake call girls 'birds', which I'd thought only happened in England.
The language aside, it's not like the people were any different from those back in the States. Most of them, except for maybe Raleigh and Artemis, were actually really nice. I felt almost at home here. Sure, it would be nice to have some teenage estrogen around for relief purposes, but these Irish boys weren't too bad. Well, they weren't too bad when they were taking a break from being confusing, irritating and childish. But that wasn't too much different from the way that Andrew, Kyle and Brandon behaved, so I guess it was just a boy thing.
The hot water was running out fast, so I finished up before the cold had time to kick in again.
Grabbing one of the thick, fluffy towels from off of the counter, I shot my hair one look in the mirror before deciding it was altogether impossible and would have to be dealt with later. Humming a song under my breath, I gave my head one good shake before opening the door and heading back into the room to search for some clean pajamas.
I was expecting the room to be empty and dark. What I was not expecting was to see Artemissitting on my bed like this was an everyday occurrence and the dorm had totally not been completely locked when I entered the bathroom.
That was really creepy. How did he get in here? I did not remember giving him a key. And I was sure as hell that Raleigh hadn't given him one either.
"Artemis!" I shrieked, clutching my towel to me like my life depended on it, eyes as wide as saucers. "What in gods name are you doing here?!"
Artemis turned, caught sight of me, turned a very bright shade of red, and promptly stumbled over himself as he tried to get up and fell over. Once he regained his upright position, the genius squeezed his eyes shut, and began fumbling around my room for a door.
I stood there, stunned, surprised and furious and watched as he tripped over my still-not-completely unpacked suitcase and cursed slightly. Still fumbling around, he turned away from the door and towards the balcony before promptly running face-first into the wall.
There was a loud thud! And I didn't have the chance to relish the fact that, for once, it hadn't been caused me before Artemis was on his butt on our floor, his hands clasped over his eyes.
It was at this choice moment that Raleigh opened the dorm room door. He took one look at the pair of us, me with my back against a wall still clutching my towel, to Artemis sitting on the floor with his eyes still squeezed shut before shaking his head. With a deep sigh, Raleigh muttered something along the lines of: "I really don't want to know…" before turning around and leaving.
And the week had only just begun.
Thank you (again) everyone for your reviews last chapter! The Rapid Review Rabbit loves you all. There is a poll up on my homepage concerning this story, you should go take it. (hint hint)