Hey everybody! I'm trying my best to make posting chapters a weekly thing, but I haven't had much luck yet. Anyways, here's chapter 11!
Chapter 11: Flynn POV
Guys like me don't belong in detention.
Guys like me belong on the football field, wearing a jersey covered in sweat, dirt, and grass stains. They stand in the end zone, dancing after a touchdown and locking eyes with a particularly gorgeous cheerleader. She shoots him a flirty smile and guys like me know to wink back.
Guys like me belong at parties, surrounded by other people who always know what to say and when to smile and what to wear. Sometimes there's alcohol. Sometimes there's dancing. It doesn't matter, it's always fun.
As of yesterday, guys like me belong in front of the entire student body after being named a junior class escort. I had only soaked in the applause for about five minutes when Principal De Vil stomped on my reality and informed me that I'd cheated. I knew it wasn't true and I knew I stood about five feet away from somebody who would do far worse than cheat to have me named junior escort.
And I was dating her.
Unfortunately, Jasmine hadn't realized that putting nine hundred sixty-four votes for me would be suspicious when the junior class only had two hundred students.
I drove her home that afternoon and tried to focus on the road while she sobbed next to me. "Flynn, I am so sorry. This is all my fault!" she cried, her brown eyes red and swollen. She had confessed right after sitting on the leather seats of my brand new car.
It didn't bug me that she'd wanted me to win. Stuff like that really mattered to Jasmine. It only hurt that she didn't think I could win on my own.
"When are you going to tell De Vil that you did it?" I asked loudly, struggling to be heard over her loud mourning.
Jasmine gulped as I pulled into her driveway. We locked eyes and I saw her nervously wind her hair around one finger. "I can't tell De Vil. She'll kick me off the court…" I realized where this was going.
I slammed my palm on the steering wheel. "So I get to serve detention for something I didn't do? This'll go on my permanent record, Jas!" This is was so typical of her.
Jasmine's wails grew louder. "Flynn, this is the only thing that matters to me! I'm not a good cheerleader! I'm not smart! If I'm not a junior attendant, I'm nothing!"
Like the sucker I was, I forgave her. I held her heaving frame against my chest and comforted her. And the next day, I reported to Mr. Hook's class on the second floor for detention instead of football practice.
My fellow students who had also been sentenced to detention for reasons unknown looked like repeat offenders to me. A tan girl with black hair and a wrench sticking out of her pocket sat in front, looking extremely ticked off at everyone there. A guy with a too wide smile and a striped sweater had his eyes glued to me. A couple of other kids looked even more hardened and dangerous, but fortunately they were clustered around the left side of the room. I tried to hurry to the far right column of desks without looking intimidated.
Mr. Hook, the sophomore history teacher who had an affinity for facial hair, cleared his throat loudly. "Good afternoon, future criminals and current miscreants. It is now three thirty and it is time for your detention hour to start." He motioned to a younger man in a red tie who had just walked through the door. "Mr. Smee here will conduct detention in my absence, as he is a student teacher and needs to experience." He stood up dramatically and made his exit. That was when I noticed that he had a hook hand. It caught the light and gleamed in a threatening way.
Mr. Smee smiled nervously at Mr. Hook before stumbling over to himself to the desk. He sat behind it and smiled at us all. "Between you and me, I don't think you're all destined for lives of crime," he told us reassuringly. When no one responded, he sighed and pulled out a sheet of paper. "When I call your name, please say tell me that you're here."
"Elsa Andersen?"
A harsh looking blonde girl who had dozens of orange bottles and white pills on her desk looked up. "Here."
Mr. Smee scrunched up his quite large and bulbous nose. "Are those pills, Miss Andersen?"
Her smile made my blood freeze. "Would you believe they're Tic Tacs?" she asked sweetly.
Mr. Smee didn't seem to notice her thinly veiled malice. "Ah. My mistake." He fumbled with a red pen and managed to leave a large spot of ink on his shirt. "Kenai Cacyuk?"
A guy with shaggy black hair and an exposed tattoo on his arm waved his hand in the air. I'd seen him drive a motorcycle to school.
"Chester Cheshire?"
The smiling guy raised his hand. "Here!" he practically chirped. That guy really gave me the creeps.
Knowing that my name would be towards the end of the list, I sort of tuned out. The girl with the wrench was named Audrey Ramirez. Kuzco had a really long and complicated last name that Smee couldn't pronounce and was filing his nails and looking quite comfortable.
"Flynn Rider?"
"Here," I mumbled. The clock showed that it was only 3:22.
"Rapunzel Roth?"
"Here." A girl with purple hair raised her hand and I did a double take. I knew that name.
The Rapunzel Roth I knew had gone to Coldwater Creek Day Camp when I was about to go into ninth grade. She had been a year younger than me but I'd admired her. That Rapunzel had had flowing blonde hair and a nonstop smile that was infectious and irresistible.
Some people say that when you meet your true love, time stands still. It's like you are the only two people on earth and nobody else matters. I knew that that wasn't how it was with me and Jasmine. When we were together, it was like everybody else mattered more. We were always trying to keep up with everybody else. Some days I felt like our relationship was a nonstop beauty pageant for Cutest Couple and we were never quite winning.
But on July 28th, 2011, I came the closest to true love that I think I will ever come. That was the day of the Goodbye Dance at Coldwater Creek Summer Camp, the very last day of my very last year of camp. That was the day that I walked up to Rapunzel Roth and asked her to dance. We'd been friendly, but it hadn't really been anything special. That dance, however, was very, very special.
Mom had packed one of my nicest blue dress shirts and gray pants for me to wear to this particular Goodbye Dance, and for once I was eternally grateful. Rapunzel wore a white sundress that contrasted with her golden hair and slight sunburn. I'd walked the lonely trek across the dance floor crowded with awkward pubescent kids struggling to slow dance. I'd walked that trek a million times in my head, practicing my swagger and perfecting my approach. I'd walk over and suavely ask, "May I have this dance?" She'd accept, blushing profusely at my boldness and feeling immensely lucky to dance with the guy she'd found the most attractive at this entire day camp.
The reality, though not as perfect, was somehow infinitely better. I stuttered out a choked "Um, will you d-dance with me?" but had immediately been wiped out by her smile. Rapunzel had tilted her head and murmured "I would love to."
She draped her freckled arms around my shoulders and I placed my hands on her hips. I smiled at her and she smiled at me and we talked. I don't know how I was able to talk, what with being completely in awe of her beauty. But it wasn't just that. Rapunzel was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and smelled like sunscreen and I knew only a few hours before she'd been caked in mud while trying to push her canoe into the lake. And she knew that I'd won the award for Grumpiest Camper and I'd screamed when a snake crossed my path while hiking. But at that moment, it didn't matter. None of that mattered. My camp friends who I'm sure were hooting and whistling at the idea of me dancing with a girl didn't even exist. I know what people mean when they say it feels like you're the only two people on the planet.
Rapunzel had given me a hug the next morning when my mom and stepfather picked me up. That was the day when Mom announced that my stepfather, Greg, had decided to adopt me and they asked if I would like to change my last name from Fitzherbert to Rider. I had hated my name since I was little, but that day I was afraid to change it because I was afraid Rapunzel would only remember Eugene Fitzherbert and that Flynn Rider wouldn't be someone she would know. Rapunzel had promised to write.
After three months with no letter, I told Mom that I'd love to change my name to Flynn Rider, after my maternal grandfather. The first chapter of my life had ended, and I'm glad that Eugene Fitzherbert went out on a good note.
But if the girl sitting across the room from me hadn't been named Rapunzel Roth, I would never have recognized her. This girl's hair was bright purple and she looked too pale. She dressed differently, too. My Rapunzel had worn T-shirts and jean shorts religiously. This Rapunzel wore tight black jeans that looked like they'd just come off of a runway. The only thing they shared were their eyes, green like emeralds and just as bright.
And, thank my lucky stars, this stealth master Rapunzel Roth had sat only a row away from me.
Mr. Smee had finished roll call and now seemed content to twiddle his thumbs and smile at us kindly. It was slightly unnerving. I diverted me eyes to Rapunzel. She seemed to be painting her nails a dark, matte blue. I mustered all of my courage.
"Hey!" I whispered. She didn't look up. I dug through my bag until I found my chemistry homework. I probably won't use this junk anyway, I told myself as I tore off a large piece. After crumpling it in my fist, I threw it at her and managed to nail her on her overly pierced ear.
Rapunzel whipped her head towards me so fast I'm surprised she didn't get whiplash. "What do you want?" she hissed, venom oozing from her voice. Maybe this was a bad idea.
I was speechless for a second. I hadn't anticipated getting this far. "Um, have you ever gone to Coldwater Creek Summer Camp?" I asked timidly. This was a long shot. Someone like her probably wouldn't admit it. Summer camp would definitely clash with her new persona.
To my surprise, Rapunzel's face softened. "Yeah, I went there. I miss it." Her eyes took on a dreamy look. "The lake there was amazing," she explained.
I couldn't believe my luck. Of course she'd remember! All I had to do was tell her that I was Eugene Fitzherbert and it'd be like no time had passed. We'd emerge as a happy couple and…
Wait, I was already supposed to be a happy couple. With Jasmine Walters. Who would theoretically (if not actually) murder someone who split us up.
"Well, I heard it was a cool camp. I have a younger cousin who's interested in going," I fibbed. Rapunzel seemed to believe me and nodded.
"It's great for someone who needs a boost of self-esteem," she said. I heard her words but it was getting hard to focus. Not only was she inhumanely beautiful, she smelled like new leather and vanilla. It was intoxicating.
"Right. I think I'm going to finish my trigonometry homework now," I said, quickly ending the conversation. Rapunzel nodded at me before slipping her earbuds in and leaning her head back. I didn't know what music she was listening to, but I was almost positive it was nothing like the sickly sweet pop music Jasmine and her friends loved so much. If I heard another rendition of "California Girls" by Katy Perry, I would probably lose it.
I felt like I had been this close to getting my dream girl back. However, I knew that ruining her life might not be worth it.
Then again, talking to somebody hopefully wasn't enough to put Jasmine on the war path. Judging by how comfortable she seemed, Rapunzel Roth was probably a regular in detention.
Suddenly, staying out of trouble wasn't a priority anymore.
Please, please, please review and subscribe! Thanks for reading!
