Hey, been "a while".
(Oh, there are mistakes. I guarantee.)
"Ouch!"
"Sorry!" Brittany sits up, one strap hangs over her shoulder. She holds Alvin's neck, apologizing about a thousand times. She gently drags her fingers over the tender spot on his chest that she just elbowed. She lets out a small giggle, admiring his features.
"Gah..." a small whisper comes out of his mouth. He sits up, smiling as well, ignoring the pain. This was the third time in the past six minutes she had gotten excited and injured him somewhere. Sitting there, with her little panties and her hair askew, he couldn't help but forgive her.
"Sorry." comes out of her mouth, but much softer. She pulls him down, kissing his neck once. Alvin breathes out warm air, then breathing in, filling his lungs with the aroma in the Chipette's room. Their time was running short, they had to leave and they knew it. Neither wanted to, of course. But actions cause consequences.
Alvin frowns slightly, placing Brittany's strap back onto her shoulder. She looks confused, then understands that it was time to head to the game, "Um," she starts, "I'll call Jeanette and tell her we'll be there soon."
"Kay." Alvin's voice is a raspy whisper. He wants to lighten the mood, get their minds off the fact that they may just be separated for under three hours. Brittany finds her clothes, slipping them on. She readjusts her ponytail and slips her hand under the bed, where her phone had managed to get.
"We're so dead." she jokes, unlocking her cellular device. Alvin laughs once, letting a giant smirk form on his lips. As a result, he snatches the phone right out of her grasp. "Hey!" she jumps up, trying to reach for it. He pushes her back, lifting the phone in the air.
"Obsessed." he teases, describing her. She jumps up a few times, trying to retrieve it. They both laugh, letting the short moment of no depression be present for a while.
At the Game
Just by driving onto the gravel parking lot and rolling down your window, you're slapped with the smell of popcorn and funnel cake. People are everywhere: children are running wild, carrying glow sticks and faces painted the school colors, while the parents are trying to keep them calm, sitting in the bleachers or on a blanket. The band plays favorites and the flag twirlers are all resting on the grass.
The lines for the concessions are way too long, as for the bathrooms. But everyone somehow manages.
"Oh that's nice." Jeanette comments, while noticing the cheerleaders. Simon turns around holding two hot dogs, viewing the scene too.
"They would." he refers to the jocks constantly teasing the cheerleaders, getting them to try out moves, just to see up their skirts.
"And to think, that used to be Alvin and Brittany." Jeanette comments, Simon scoffs.
"Used to be?"
"Okay fine, it's still them, just without the labels." she smiles, taking her share of food he had retrieved. The two join everyone else.
"Where have you two been?" Eleanor eyes the purple and blue clad. Jeanette sits next to her sister,
"Have you seen the lines?" Jeanette questions. Eleanor shakes it off, digging into some nachos. Dave had found some seats in the bleachers that they were all expected to attend to shortly. Knowing Simon and Jeanette, they wouldn't stick around very long, as they haven't during past games.
"Hey guys..." Lucie approaches the table, all sad and whatnot. Everyone sort of mumbles, no one really prepared to greet her. Although it was definitely hard not to notice her. She had small little decorations of the school's colors painted on her face, wearing a short skimpy skirt and a tight jersey topped off with sneakers.
"Hi!" Theodore greets. Everyone looks at him, rolling their eyes and smiling.
"So have you guys seen-"
"Alvin?" Simon finishes, nonchalantly, "He's not here." he states. Sharp pains shoot through his shin, Jeanette's curtousy.
"Sorry," Jeanette concludes, "We haven't seen him." she eyes Simon.
"Yeah, or Brittany." Theodore adds. Lucie's expressions go from depressed to mourning for her own death.
"O-okay. Just wondering, let me know if you see him." she quickly leaves, her shoes trotting in the gravel.
Lucie opens the bathroom door, surprised by a few boys, forgetting it was an all gender restroom. Not a very good system. She heads straight to the glitter-stained, graffiti covered mirror. She keeps positive thoughts ahead. She frowns at her reflection, her school spirit makeup has smudged slightly. She can feel the heaviness of the other teens staring at her. They leave once they relize she's wrecked. She swallows the lump in her throat, grabbing a paper towel.
Before it can reach her face, a corruption occurs behind her. She jumps at the fracus. Two boys hold open the door, they look as though they're from another school, they throw in a boy whose covered in strips of toilet paper and silly string. "Not so easy without backup, right?" one of them asks, kicking the outside gravel into the restroom, it cascades on the boy. They leave pissed.
Lucie watched the whole thing, she's shocked when she looks down. The boy laughs, as if he expected to get vandalized. "...what?..." comes across her lips. He stands up, not so surprised to see her. "What did you do?" she adresses him. No response. "Jacobson!" she catches his attention. He growls under his breath.
"Nothing, it was just a prank." he pulls the silly string away from his face and around his neck.
"They threw you into the bathroom!" she takes over, picking toilet paper off his shoulders. He steps back,
"Look we- I always pull a prank on the opposite team before a game." he retorts. Lucie wants to leave already. She stays only because it might be the only exciting thing to happen tonight.
"They were right. Backup was probably needed."
"Well, while your little boyfriend panty chases, I stepped over to the visitor's pep bus and-"
"Could care less." she interrupts, letting him end the conversation by bending down to tie his shoe, which was in bad shape. His converses are ripped up the side and completely filthy, if she made a comment about them, he'd say they were "classic"and not a single reason to be replaced.
He's panting, almost annoyingly. She turns back around and stares into the mirror, her reflection more startled than before. Jacobson looks up from his knelt position, able to see her face in the mirror. "What's wrong with you?" he nods. Her eye contact remains with herself. He stands up, looking at her from the back. She can't help but feel slightly lifted at him caring a little.
"Let's see," it comes out stronger than she wants, "I think I just got dissed by the Sevilles and their posse." she waits for a response, but doesn't receive one. This is strange to her. She hates admitting things to people, she's normally one of those girls that makes you work for the reason of her feelings. Jacobson's face is still locked on the mirror, paying attention to everything she's said. It hurts her. She changes the subject, "He's not panty chasing!- but he's not here either."
Jacobson chuckles, she's uncomfortable. "Alvin." he states coldly. Lucie turns,
"You don't have to say it like that-" more people enter the restroom. Jacobson glances at her, daring her to finish this pre-argument. Anyone would be lucky enought to witness a fight break out between these two. Her mouth is still formed at the last word, as if she was paused by a remote. Jacobson smirks, nodding to the door. She unfreezes, nonchalantly following. He pulls her arm anyway. They stop by the side of the building.
"Sorry princess, we should take this somewhere else. Maybe someplace with more witnesses, in case they're needed." he banters. She pulls her arm to her side, feeling her jersey for comfort.
"I don't want to fight. But I don't need a lecture telling me what Alvin's done wrong. Just lay off." the last part of her sentence is under a whisper. He backs off, placing his hands in his pockets. He shrugs his shoulders, shaking his blond hair in front of his green eyes. She looks away from them, refusing to get trapped by the distracting color.
"Let's not talk about him then," he tugs the rim of her left sleeve, "But we're definitely going for a walk."
"The game-"
"Is the same every year. We win." he explains, "It's just for charity. Incase you haven't noticed," he smiles, "It's not really football season." she shows sympathy for his joke. His eyes trail to the direction of a big tree near the exit of the fence, "Come on." he holds out a hand, the other still fumbling in his pocket. Lucie stares down, over thinking. Jacobson rolls his eyes, grabbing her hand himself, leading her away from the rowdy crowds.
The walk to the tree never lasted long, before Lucie and Jacobson decided to take their path further. They walked way past the fence, away from the gravel parking lot. Not much scenery with how late it was getting. Not much banter between the two either, just comments and little breaths through the nose.
Jacobosn speaks up, "How long'd it take ya to put that skanky outfit together?" He remarks, finaly taking notice in her clothes. Lucie decides not to argue, rubbing her arm lightly. Jacobson's battle smile slowly drops, he continues walking.
"Why don't we head back?" her voice is full of sorrow, longing for a good scream.
"What?" Why?" He stops, "I can still see the lights, let's just keep going-"
"Alvin could be there by now. He might be looking for me." she reassures herself. Jacobson takes a long look at her, kicking the dirt beneath his feet.
"He would've texted you." he lets out quickly, not wanting to deal with her dumb ass hopes. She just stands there, looking back on the game. She begins to pull out her phone- then denies that move. "He didn't text you." Lucie turns,
"No. He doesnt have time." she slowly lets out, but each word growing with intensity, "Doesn't have time for a text, or a call, or a hello. He's... he's-" Jacobson grabs her arms, she was unaware she had been flaring them around. She stops abruptly, taking in a sharp, stabbing breath. He holds her still, keeping her from getting overwhelmed. She holds back tears, biting her lip. Jacobson's thumbs lightly massage her wrists, feeling her soft skin. His eyes start from her tennies, up her body and stop at her own concerned eyes.
Niether feel it yet, but they begin to form an embrace. Lucie breaks in and comsumes him with in a hug. He's stunned at first, but his self consciousness wraps his hands around her petite waist. She squeezes his shirt on his shoulders, muffling on. "He stopped calling me..." she whispers, wiping salty spots from her eyes. "I figured he was depressed or someting, but... I" she pushes herself back to face Jacobson, whose more than engaged in her episode, "Brittany gets everyone. I'm the friend that gets her leftovers."
His hands still hold onto her waist, his fingers entertained at the feeling of her jersey and the warmth her body diffuses. Her last sentence hangs on the cliff of his mind, daring to push his thoughts out.
"That's not true," his voice calms her. "After Brittany, there's no way you and I..." he lingers off before she gets it. She smiles, hitting him. He lets go of her, defending himself. They separate, walking along the path adjacent to the tree they're headed to.
"aaand... fail." Jacobson comments on Lucie's attempt to get into the tree. He already sits, one knee up to his chest, on a perfectly shaped branch.
"Can you just help me?" she hangs on the second lowest branch, her feet on the trunk, scratching the bottom of her shoes. Jacobson leans over, spitting a lougie near her fingers. She jumps down, irritated. "Dude!"
"Dude." he mocks. Without even looking, he can just feel her stare intensify. He smirks, giving in. She sighs, getting ready to climb again. He adjusts to lower down to help her. Their hands tighten within each others as her feet kick up the side of the tree. Lucie is pulled up to meet Jacobson's face.
"It's... uh, kind of tight, huh?" she comments, her knee smashing his chest. "Here," she sets her leg down to dangle towards the ground. Now the branch just sits between their thighs as they face each other. Lucie leans back against the trunk, sighing. "This was really too much work."
"You wanted to rest." Jacobson begins to open a small package of beef jerky, already offering a piece to Lucie. She grabs it, pointing to his pockets.
"Do you have a pen?" she uses the jerky as a pointer. Through the sounds of chewing, Jacobson responds,
"Who carries a pen around in their pock-" he had felt around his hip and felt and object sticking out: a used, blue sharpie falls into his fingers, catching it from plummeting to the dirt below. Lucie laughs. He lightly smiles. She reaches for it, but he jolts back, "What's it for?" he asks suspiciously. She scoffs,
"Let me show you."
He's hesitant, her facial expressions put up a warning sign in his mind. She rests her elbow on his knee, hand ready to retrieve the pen. He slowly brings it down, watching her moves, eyeing her. "Don't drop it." he warns.
"Close your eyes." she pulls the cap off in a possessive way, scaring his thoughts. He obliges anyway. His green orbs disappear, seeing only black.
"Don't draw on my f-"
"I'm not drawing on your face!" Lucie laughs, bending over to her side. She gently lifts the bottom of Jacobson's pant leg so it doesn't cover up his converse shoe. Taking the white part, where his toes would be, she beings to write a message in calligraphy cursive.
Clearly aware something is being placed on his shoe, Jacobson opens his eyes. He watches his classic shoes get destroyed as Lucie dots her i with a girly heart. Written perfectly, lies 'Lucie' on the tip of his converse in dark blue ink. "I know you're staring." she looks up at him, catching his eyes. He lifts his leg a little, showing the name to both of them. First thing running through his mind is to erase it immediately, but the last thing Lucie needs is another erased memory.
"Pretty." he lets out with no emotion. Lucie sits up, gently pushing his chest.
"Asshole." they both laugh. Lucie spots an attractive smile, she blushes. He's noticed the whole time, in fact he's noticed a lot about her this evening. He enjoys this feeling, the feeling of being with her and around her all the time. Something he'd never thought he'd... well think.
"You wanna play a game-"
"Not anything you have in mind." Lucie retorts, breaking the gaze that they both unknowingly had. Jacobson shifts his position so both legs are hanging over one side.
"Rawr, someone sounds like Brittany. You know, you're kind of like her clone."
"Ha. Not the first time I've heard that one." she fires back playfully. She's blushing again at how cheesy that sounded. She changes the subject, "Ugh, what game?" Jacobson smiles at that.
"Close your eyes." he teases. His voice tingles through her ears, goosebumps appear all over her arms. Unlike Jacobson, she doesn't ask why. Before she can see what's going on, something small is pressed against her neck. The marker begins to leave his name just below her jawline. She pulls away,
"Dude, no." she begins to wipe it off, "what the heck?" she licks her palm, placing it under her ear. She desperately rubs it away. Jacobson laughs,
"How do you think I feel about my shoes?" his jokes fly right over her head.
"That's different. I can't just walk around with your name on my neck." She looks at him as if it were a real crime. Her hand is freezing compared to how hot her neck is. Realizing the silence between the two, she breaks it, "Ugh, is it off?"
Jacobson squints, leaning in real close. His breath smells of left over beef jerky, gross yet intriguing. "Wait, wait,"
"What?" Lucie shows a panicked expression. Jacobson nearly pulls her forward,
"There's a little... no, a tiny little freckle- I think." He's drawn into the feature more than an artist at a museum.
"God..." Lucie pushes him away. Her cheeks have flared up by now, but it's too dark to notice. Thank God, Almighty Jesus.
"Wow can you not?" Brittany speaks up at the action Alvin's pulled multiple times now.
"Well if your jeans weren't so far up your ass, we wouldn't have this problem." The two walk along the abandoned sidewalk. Only cars on opposite streets can be heard, along with little spring bugs and annoying critters.
"Just keep your hands away, and keep them there for the rest of the night." She retorts.
"Gonna be hard to do-"
"Alvin, I'm serious." She stops in front of him, putting a hand on his chest, "Just-" she froze. She couldn't bare to bring up every flaw in their complicated relationship. Or otherwise known as completely forbidden relationship. "Just behave." She finishes smoothly. He pouts his lips, agreeing on the outside, lying on the inside.
Being turned down nearly a million times by the this chick and she expects him to back off. All the things he has planned for tonight revolve around the exact opposite of that.
Strolling down the street containing the field, Brittany begins to feel anxious. Nearly any definition of regret could describe her emotions right now. Seeing Jacobson as if was no big deal turns her stomach. She tries to imagine the same for Alvin and Lucie, but that's a completely different story.
As they walk nearly at the same pace, it disturbs Alvin when their hands brush against each other. It irritates to the point of him just embracing her hand and lacing his fingers with hers. Brittany looks at him. They just sort of glare then continue their path to the big tree outside the gates.
Oh God! Hello FanFiction!
I'm not going to apologize for my absence, because no amount of "Sorry's" could make up for it.
I will apologize, however, for this terrible chapter. You waited almost a year for this!? Yeah, I know.
It freaks me out that the beginning of this was written in 2012. Awkward.
But, with the events coming up in this story, I needed to stop here.
Judging where Alvin and Brittany are headed, there's gonna be trouble... you know already.
Okay, there's no way in hell that the next chapter will take this long. I promise.