August 26, 2008
Around six in the morning, when Chrys heard an urgent pounding on her door, she groaned and rolled out of bed.
It wasn't unusual for this sort of pounding to wake her up in the morning. Usually, (actually most of the time) Chrys woke up to her door shaking, then she'd get up and go open it to then 1) get slapped in the face by her father, 2) get yelled at by Trent's mother because Chrys woke up late, or 3) get scolded by Trent for locking her bedroom door when there was a strict policy against it.
In all honesty, Chrys hoped for option one, because first off, it woke her up. Secondly, it was some actual attention from someone who usually ignored her. And third, (although Chrys would never admit it) she hated being yelled at more than anything. It made her feel small. Useless. Pathetic. Like the world was crumbling around her, and all she could do was stand and watch. Anxiety does that sort of thing.
With several wishes that it was indeed option one, Chrys ran a trembling hand through her undoubtable bed head, and reached toward the door handle. She unlocked it (slowly, but not too slowly), and then threw open the door, disgusted at the person standing before her.
"Hey, pill popper."
"It hasn't been two seconds and you're already getting on my nerves." Chrys snapped bitterly, glaring at her older brother, Riley.
Riley, a slight smirk on his lips, shoved past Chrys and into her room. He seemed to be taking it all in — the largish bed, the window seat, the messy desk, the bookshelves, the old copy of The Outsiders that sat on the ground. Chrys figured he must've been jealous about how much she actually had, but if he was he wasn't letting her on that he was. He just shifted on his feet, and turned back around to look at her, his eyes narrow.
"What do you even do for fun around here?" Riley asked slowly, as if calculating his next line of attack.
"Beat up people. Rob stores. The usual." she said, and Riley honestly couldn't tell if she was joking or not. "I didn't think you knew what fun was. Seeing as you're oh so busy with that dumb broad you call a girlfriend."
"Don't talk bad about her, you fuck. I'll beat the living shit outta you." he snapped, his teeth gritted. "She's way better than you'll ever be, Chrysanthemum. You're a joke. The family mistake."
Chrys shrugged nonchalantly. "Whatever, moron."
He hated how she could do that. He hated how she wasn't phased by anything.
"Do not call me a moron!" he whispered violently, trying to keep his voice down. "You call me something like that again and you'll have toes for teeth. Understand?"
Again, (this time bothering him more than anything had ever bothered him) she shrugged, and he couldn't contain himself anymore.
"No wonder mum and dad hate you! You're a fucking pill popping, scumbag with nothing else to do that sit on your ass and complain!"
Chrys gritted her teeth, and clenched her fists. "In case you haven't noticed, Riley, we're both in the same boat. Our mother hates you, she hates me. Our father hates you, and he definitely hates me. The only difference is that you're stuck up, and have everything handed to you on a silver plater."
"You think I have everything handed to me?" he asked in disbelief, wondering what the hell kind of medication she was on, and if they were messing with her judgement. "You don't know what it's like at home. It's all fucked. Just like you."
"Wow. Real original. I've never heard that one before." Chrys kind of fake laughed, and then narrowed her eyes at him. "And you're not the only kid in this family whose home life isn't great. Get over yourself."
Riley never really liked his sister. Chrys was rude, she talked back, and she didn't ever understand the consequences of her actions (or she just didn't care). She always had this gross, snarky tone to her voice, and she always sounded so calm, cool, and collected even during times when Riley felt his anxiety raising through the roof. It pissed him off. Plus just to top it all off, Chrys has these dark, sunken eyes that are just full of panic and anxiety and chaos. She's literally just a human contradiction. He hated contradictions.
In all honesty, Riley felt like he could really, actually, literally shove his sister off a bridge and not feel sorry. He and Chrys are opposites in every sense of the word, and he hated people that weren't like him.
"How about you get over yourself?" he asked loudly, taking a few dangerously violent steps toward her. "You don't know what it's like with mum and her new beau, okay? He's a piece of shit. What I've gone through makes what you have look weak."
"Doubt it." she murmured, not really wanting to get into the business of whose suffering was worse because she honestly thought that suffering was just that — suffering. And that you couldn't really put a value on it.
"You're infuriating."
Riley is polite to adults, and never talks back to them (unlike Chrys). He pretends to be okay with things even if they really bother him (again, unlike Chrys). His eyes are lively and blue, and they're bright, and not sunken in, or narrow, or suspicious, and there's a sort of calmness to them that Chrys' don't have. His voice (unlike Chrys's calm one) is shaky and clipped because of a bad experience he had when he was seven. Plus, he doesn't hang around with those greaseballs that she does, and he's not as rough looking either.
His nose isn't broken, or crooked. His teeth are relatively straight, but compared to Chrys' teeth they're perfect. Hers are all crooked and jacked and chipped, and he couldn't remember if she was born like that, or if she got them because of a beating, but he didn't care. He had actual muscle to him, unlike Chrys' scrawny frame. He had a handsome, untattered face, while Chrys had cuts and bruises going every which way. His fingers weren't crooked. And at least, he thought to himself, I don't look like a hood.
"Yeah, well..." Chrys stuttered, racking her brain for an insult. "Your face looks funny!"
"Good one." he said.
"Thanks, asshole." she responded.
For a moment, he was silent, and then Riley said, "You look rough." as if acknowledging the things Chrys had been through since their parents split.
"It's been hell." she said back, narrowing her eyes at the sudden drop in hostility. "What're you here for anyway?"
"It's your birthday, jackass. Mum decided to drive us down here this year." Riley took one look at Chrys' confused face, and laughed loudly. "Did you really forget about your own birthday?"
"No." she lied.
"Yeah, okay." he snarled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Well, dad sent me up here to come get you. There's this whole party downstairs, and you better get dressed unless you wanna get hit, yeah?"
"Uh..." pause, "um... yeah. H-how many people are here?"
Riley seemed to be counting off the people in his head before he looked at Chrys and shrugged. "Dunno. Lots." And then left, closing the door behind him.
Chrys stood there for a moment in awe. Is this real life? She pinched her arm, and confirming that this was in fact real life, smiled slightly. There hadn't been a proper birthday party for her in a few years. All the others before had either 1) sucked, or 2) just didn't happen. The thought of a party sent a shiver of excitement throughout Chrys' entire body, and she just had to get downstairs.
Quickly, Chrys pulled on a pair of presentable pants, and threw on some shirt she found laying on the ground. She ran a few quick fingers through her hair, and then pulled on a pair of mismatched socks. Then, just as Riley was reaching the bottom of the stairs, Chrys swung open her door and practically ran down the hallway — excited, yet terrified at the same time.
On her third birthday... well, all Chrys really remembered was numbness. She didn't remember the exactly details of what happened, but it had something to do with her mother swallowing too many pain killers, and then being hospitalized. After, she received a fancy doll as if it would fix anything.
On her forth birthday (and her fifth, and her sixth), Chrys just got ignored. She'd wait a few hours, until she would realize that nobody was going to do anything for it. Then, she'd lay on the couch and wonder why there was a tightness in her chest.
But her seventh birthday was the worst by far. A week or two before (the memory was blurred because Chrys hadn't been in a good mindset), her mother broke off from her father for someone else a lot richer. This lead to booze. And when Chrys' father drank booze he got violent, and that much was evident on her seventh birthday. That night, as Chrys laid on her bed with blood trickling out from everywhere, she wanted to be someone else, somewhere else, with something besides numbness to fill her mind.
Pushing those memories back down, Chrys swung around the top banister of the staircase and wondered aloud how many people were downstairs. Had the greasers been invited? Would her father tolerate those he called scum for a few hours? Were those rich kids like Derby and Pinky and Bif downstairs? Had they gotten her nice presents? Rich presents? Were the greasers like Johnny and Lola going to get along with the rich kids? Or would there be chaos because money always rubbed people the wrong way? Chrys didn't know, but as she reached the bottom of the grand staircase, she sure did find out.
All around there were people. Rich people, poor people. Preps, greasers. Middle class kids and their parents. Kids Chrys knew personally, by name, or merely just in passing. Adults, teenagers, kids, and also some pets. Handsome men, beautiful women. There were all sorts of people. In the corner near the snack table stood a few greasers Chrys had come to know, but not on a personal level. In the middle of the room hanging around their parents stood the preps like Derby and Pinky and Bif. Around the outer walls stood greasers like Johnny and Lola and Norton.
Chrys felt her heart jump in her chest.
For a moment, she felt complete, and rushed toward Derby... a large smile on her lips.
"Hello, Chrysanthemum." Derby smiled politely, as if he was putting on a show for somebody. "How's your day been so far?"
"I just woke up." Chrys replied, and then hugged him. "Hey... um... thanks for coming, Derby."
He looked startled at this sudden hug, but wasn't deterred, and he actually hugged her back. She smelt nice, but he'd have to tell Bif about that later. "You're welcome, princess." he whispered.
"How long have you been here for?"
Derby contemplated her question for a moment, and then shrugged. "I'm not sure. Ten or fifteen minutes, probably." Then his voice dropped to a whisper, "Your brother sure is a piece of work."
Chrys giggled, and then nodded in undoubted agreement. "Yeah... yeah, he really is." pause, "You gonna play nice with the greasers?"
He giggled too, and then shrugged. "Yes, yes, of coarse. Your friends are my friends... sort of."
"Good." Chrys said, trying to assert her dominance above him just to make sure that he one hundred percent wouldn't try anything. "You touch any of them, I'll beat you up. Got it?"
Derby smiled, "mmm, got it."
And she knew Derby wasn't intimidated because he did have a large advantage with his height, and beefiness, but Chrys wasn't deterred. If I can beat up a middle schooler, Chrys thought, turning away from Derby and starting to head toward Johnny, then I could take Derby. He's not that much different.
She knew she was wrong, and she'd never be able to take him, but that was besides the point.
"Hey hey hey, Johnny!" Chrys smiled brightly. "Lola... Peanut... Norton. How are you guys?"
"Fantastic, lovely, amazing." Johnny responded quickly after, wrapped an arm around Chrys' shoulders, and shaking her. "My baby girl is turning ten, and I couldn't be happier."
"Shaddup," Chrys joked, "you're the baby girl, Johnny."
"Yeah, riiiight!" he laughed back. "And just a heads up, I couldn't get you much, but I think you'll like it."
Chrys shrugged, and wrapped an arm around Johnny's back. "That's fine. Just you being here is enough." Lola sort of scoffed at this comment, but Chrys didn't pay any mind. "I haven't had a party like this since forever."
Johnny smiled, and messed up her hair affectionately. "Well, I'm glad I could be here, then. But listen... I was thinkin' since you parents aren't so nice, we could... play a prank on them today."
"A prank?"
"Yeah, a complicated prank of sorts that would call for you helping us." Peanut pipped up.
Chrys was instantly intrigued. "Well, what's this prank consist of?"
Johnny smiled a devilish smile, and leaned in close to Chrys' ear. "You gotta agree to help first."
"Of course I'll help, now get on with it." Chrys snapped impatiently, tapping her foot on the ground. "I wanna know what kind of hell we're gonna stir up."
"That a girl." Peanut said loudly, clapping a heavy hand onto Chrys' shoulder. "I'm sure you're gonna love it."
xxxxxxxxxx
After awhile of Chrys just walking around, greeting guests, and talking to local kids, she stumbled upon these two boys who were bickering back and forth. Well, Chrys supposed she couldn't say back and forth, because the taller one was the one shooting insults at the shorter one, and the shorter one was just kind of taking it. But that's besides the point. And after she had stumbled upon them, and cocked her head and smiled, catching one of their attention — the taller one.
He seemed awed for a moment, and then lifted his hand for a handshake. "You must be Chrysanthemum. It's a pleasure to meet you." And although Chrys could tell he was being sincere, there was a sort of snarky, sarcastic tone to his voice that just drove Chrys up the wall, but also intrigued her.
Chrys nodded, and then took his hand. "Yeah, and call me Chrys. I hate flowers."
The taller boy nodded, and the shorter boy shifted on his feet. "Wait, wait, wait... you're the girl I've been hearing about? You're the kid who kicked a police officer in the balls?"
Her eyes widened, and she cocked her head.
Has news really gotten around that fast?
"Uh... yeah, I am." Chrys said.
The taller kid smirked, and clapped a heavy hand on her shoulder. "I knew I'd like you."
Like me? What's that mean? There were all sorts of thoughts and questions bouncing around in Chrys' head, but only one thing came out of her mouth.
"So..." Chrys began, "What're your guys' names? I don't think I've seen you two around."
The taller one nodded, and told her that he had just moved to Bullworth from some town Chrys couldn't pronounce the name of. "I'm Gary, by the way." he said, smirking a sort of smirk that was like daggers, and Chrys felt her heart beating faster.
"N-nice to meet you, Gary." she said, slightly quieter than usual. "And — " she turned to the short, slight boy who hadn't said a word, " — your name is?"
"Umm... I'm Pete." he raised his hand eagerly for a handshake, but she didn't shake it. He felt his cheeks turn red, but didn't let on that he was embarrassed. "Pete Kowalski."
"Ah." Was all that she said, but Pete could tell she was distracted by something.
"You've got a big house." Pete said.
"Nah, it's just medium sized." Chrys said back.
"No, no, no, no... my house is medium sized. Yours is massive, and I bet your bedroom is the size of my living room."
Chrys shrugged, and flickered her eyes up to Gary's for a moment, before moving them back to Pete's. "Listen, my friends — those greaser kids — and I have a plan to prank my parents before the party ends... and we could use a little extra help."
Gary smirked, "What have you got in mind?"
While Pete gulped, "Gary, we can't. You know what my parents would do to me... I can't get grounded again."
"Oh c'mon, you little bitch!" Gary snapped, shoving Pete's shoulder slightly. "Getting grounded is the least of your problems. I mean, really? I get caught and my granddad'll hit me for sure. But I'm still gonna do it."
"Well, screw you!" Pete snapped back. "You're not like me... I'm... I'm..."
"Soft?" Chrys mocked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"No, I was gonna say "actually a good person," but what's the big deal if I am soft? Why is it that girls can show emotion, but as soon as a boy chooses to he's labeled as weak?"
Chrys rolled her eyes, and sighed. "I wasn't saying that — "
"Really?" Pete asked defensively, sarcasm practically pouring from his mouth. "Because it sure sounds like you were."
"Now look who's all butt hurt."
"Shut up, Gary!"
Chrys gritted her teeth, and smacked Pete's shoulder. "No, you shut up. Now, are you in or not because I haven't got all day."
Pete rolled his eyes, and chewed his tongue. "No. I'm not."
"Fine. That's fine." Chrys sighed, and then turned to Gary. "How about you?"
He nodded in undoubted agreement, "Yeah, I'm in."
"Fantastic. Catch you around, Pete."
"Yeah... see you around, Chrysanthemum." he snarled.
When they were a few meters away, Gary turned to Chrys and said, "What do you think about him?"
Chrys shrugged, "Dunno. Depends."
"On what?"
"How long have you known him for?"
Gary thought on the question. "Well, I moved here a few days ago, and he was the first person I met, so... a few days?"
"Oh."
"Why?"
"Is he always like that? I mean all defensive."
"More often than not, I suppose." Gary said. "But how do you feel about him?"
Chrys shrugged again, "It still depends. I don't know him that well, but from what I've seen he seems a little... uh..."
"Weird? Annoying? Stupid? Whiny? Bitchy?"
"Sure. That."
Gary smiled, and then asked, "So, about this plan..."
Chrys nodded, and stopped abruptly, turning Gary to face her. "Right. So, Johnny was thinking — wait... you know him, right?"
"Um... Johnny?"
"Vincent. Johnny Vincent?"
"He's the greaser kid with the ear piercing?"
"Yeah, that one. So, he was thinking that we'd prank the hell out of my parents, since they deserve it." Chrys said.
"Okay..."
"And, basically, there's this whole elaborate plan that we've got set out already. We're gonna go over to Chad's house — y'know? That rich kid a little ways down the road? Anyway, so he has a dog, and we're going to bring the dog over here — covered in mud, mind you — and let it loose in the house. Then, after that, my father'll be really angry, and there's a whole bunch of other stuff, but that's not our problem." Chrys said all in one breath, then took another deep one. "Our job is to get the dog over here dirty, and let it in, alright?"
"Alright... and the greasers'll take care of the rest?"
"Basically. Except for the end where we come out and claim responsibility for the entire prank." Chrys shrugged, "But that's not until the end."
"I like it." Gary said.
"Good. Let's go get that dog then."
"Mmhm."
After a risky journey that took nearly fifteen minutes because several people stopped Chrys to see where she was going, the pair were finally out of the house, and down the street. However, when they reached the gated yard, Gary cocked his head, and groaned.
"How do we get into the yard?"
"Climb over the fence, obviously."
"And once we climb over, how do we get the dog back on this side?"
Chrys thought on this for a moment, then said, "We'll both go over, get the dog, make it dirty, then one of us'll climb over again. The dog'll go underneath the fence, and then the second person'll climb over too." she glanced at Gary, who was staring at her with a sort of hazy look in his eyes. "Easy as pie."
"Sure." Gary agreed, "But can I ask something first?"
"Shoot." Chrys said, preoccupied by the physics of actually getting over the fence.
"How old are you? Like how old did you turn today?"
"Ten."
"I'm ten too." And the whole exchange sounded an awful lot like the first time Chrys had met Bif, but she held her tongue. "Do you like boys?"
"They're cool, I guess." Chrys answered, a little more confused than before.
"No, I mean... would you be in a relationship with one?"
Chrys shrugged. "Sure."
Gary smiled a bit, then cleared his throat. "Can I..." but he trailed off, and Chrys couldn't hear what he said.
"Sorry, I didn't catch that."
"Uh... yeah... can I — maybe... kiss you?"
She nearly chocked on her spit, but kept her cool. Thinking that maybe she had heard him wrong, she politely asked him to repeat what he had said. This time, however, he asked "Can I kiss you?" with an abundance of confidence, and she knew she hadn't heard him wrong. And on one hand she did want to kiss him. But on the other hand, they were ten, and he was a boy, and they were in public, and, and, and... there was a bunch of factors.
But she nodded anyway, and gasped when his lips pressed against hers.
His mouth tasted like cinnamon, and when he pulled away, all she could do was stare. Chrys couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't think about anything other than what had just happened, so she just stared. Heart pounding, and lips dry, Chrysanthemum Skelton just stared, and Gary Smith (who had found the kiss incredibly satisfying) just smiled.
"Wow." he said, scratching the back of his neck.
"Yeah... um... wow." Chrys stuttered, turning away from him, and looking up at the fence again. "I think... I think I found a safe way up."
Displeased at Chrys' reaction to the kiss, Gary crossed his arms over his chest, and huffed. "Well, why don't you go show me then."
"What's got your panties in a twist?" she scoffed.
"Nothing," he lied. "Just climb up. And hurry."
Chrys did climb up, but not because Gary told her to, and had found the safest way up. It took them a little bit to reach the top, but once they did Chrys felt unstoppable, and when Chrys felt unstoppable that usually meant trouble. Plus, breaking into somebody's yard to steal their dog was trouble, so really it all worked out in Gary and Chrys' favour.
After the lengthy task of actually locating the dog in the gigantic yard (the family usually kept him outside, and he usually would hang around the massive doghouse he had), the tricky part came: actually tricking the dog into coming with them.
And because the dog was dumb, and probably inbred, Chrys figured that all she'd have to do was just offer a treat. But when she lifted her hand and showed him it, he just ran at her, snipped at her fingers (nearly taking a bit of one off, probably, and actually causing a few of them to bleed), then ran away again.
"Dammit!" Chrys cried aloud, kicking the air in the dogs direction, and cradling her bleeding hand. "Stupid, dumb dog!"
Gary was instantly at her side, gazing at her wound. "Are you okay?" he asked, genuine worry in his voice.
"Yeah yeah, yeah... I'm fine." Chrys put on a brave face, and flicked the blood off of her hand. "Let's just get this dog, okay?"
"If you insist, my fair lady."
Chrys blushed at the comment, but gritted her teeth. "Enough with the mushy stuff."
Gary raised his hands in defeat, and smiled cockily. His eyes were narrowed slightly, but Chrys could tell it wasn't out of spite. He was just trying to get some sort of reading on her — what she was like, what her past was like, where she'd gotten the scars on her face, etcetera. As she realized this, however, Chrys quickly turned away from Gary, and huffed. He was driving her up the wall, but at the same time she was intrigued, and she couldn't understand why.
"I can tell you like it, y'know?"
"No you can't," Chrys cleared her throat, "because I don't like it."