TITLE: It Figures
AUTHOR: Elise (BehrBeMine)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Don't sue, I'll cry. ;p
SUMMARY: Basically just a small visit into the mind of Paris on a regular schoolday at Chilton.
DISTRIBUTION: Want it? Take it. Let me know where you've put it.
RATING: PG
AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's the shortest fiction in the world, I know. Sorry.
Some people are so oblivious I could just scream. It makes me want to grab them by their pretty little shoulders and shake them until some sense pops into their head.
I never figured Rory would be one of those girls - - if nothing else, she at least seemed smart. Apparantly it doesn't travel beyond the books. Just another Harvard wanna-be with her head stuck in the clouds. Still doting over her boyfriend, no doubt. How could she even begin to compare a boy like that to a man like Tristan?
Why does my locker have to be located at the center of all blooming romances? Gag me, someone. It's a wonder, really, that some of those kids don't faint from lack of oxygen. At least a few records have to have been set - - unless I'm missing out on the sheer joy of sucking face for a whole lunch period. Well, then again, that's just it. I am missing out. I'm too short, my head's too small, I'm too goal-oriented. And those are just my mother's observations.
Oh joy, here comes miss Gilmore herself. Gee, she's got her nose in a book - - so what else is new? Maybe she'll crash into a wall...
How can someone become so absorbed in a book that she fails to notice the look Tristan gives her as he passes by her in the hall? Why is fate so cruel? I'm looking at him, he's looking at her, and she's looking at some stupid book. Silly trash that pollutes your mind. Only read the classics, that's what my mother says. The classics and schoolbooks are all the mind needs.
And now Tristan just keeps standing there. She doesn't see him as he watches her make her way down the rest of the hall. He doesn't see me as I stand here, dejected, watching him and eyeing her with jealosy. Just friends? That's all I'll ever be, a friend. He'll never see me, not when he's falling so hard for her. And she's so ridiculously oblivious. Rory, you fool!
If there was ever a look that could draw sympathy from me, it's the look on Tristan's face right now. Such a handsome face shoudn't be made to look so forlorn. It's cruel of her, really. But in a way I'm glad Rory doesn't see him, isn't interested. I don't know how I'd handle it if I had to watch the two of them holding hands, kissing, laughing and doing other such things teenagers in love enjoy doing in front of their ever-annoyed audience.
Some girls just get everything. How perfectly cruel of them to leave nothing for me... not even Tristan.
The End.
AUTHOR: Elise (BehrBeMine)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Don't sue, I'll cry. ;p
SUMMARY: Basically just a small visit into the mind of Paris on a regular schoolday at Chilton.
DISTRIBUTION: Want it? Take it. Let me know where you've put it.
RATING: PG
AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's the shortest fiction in the world, I know. Sorry.
Some people are so oblivious I could just scream. It makes me want to grab them by their pretty little shoulders and shake them until some sense pops into their head.
I never figured Rory would be one of those girls - - if nothing else, she at least seemed smart. Apparantly it doesn't travel beyond the books. Just another Harvard wanna-be with her head stuck in the clouds. Still doting over her boyfriend, no doubt. How could she even begin to compare a boy like that to a man like Tristan?
Why does my locker have to be located at the center of all blooming romances? Gag me, someone. It's a wonder, really, that some of those kids don't faint from lack of oxygen. At least a few records have to have been set - - unless I'm missing out on the sheer joy of sucking face for a whole lunch period. Well, then again, that's just it. I am missing out. I'm too short, my head's too small, I'm too goal-oriented. And those are just my mother's observations.
Oh joy, here comes miss Gilmore herself. Gee, she's got her nose in a book - - so what else is new? Maybe she'll crash into a wall...
How can someone become so absorbed in a book that she fails to notice the look Tristan gives her as he passes by her in the hall? Why is fate so cruel? I'm looking at him, he's looking at her, and she's looking at some stupid book. Silly trash that pollutes your mind. Only read the classics, that's what my mother says. The classics and schoolbooks are all the mind needs.
And now Tristan just keeps standing there. She doesn't see him as he watches her make her way down the rest of the hall. He doesn't see me as I stand here, dejected, watching him and eyeing her with jealosy. Just friends? That's all I'll ever be, a friend. He'll never see me, not when he's falling so hard for her. And she's so ridiculously oblivious. Rory, you fool!
If there was ever a look that could draw sympathy from me, it's the look on Tristan's face right now. Such a handsome face shoudn't be made to look so forlorn. It's cruel of her, really. But in a way I'm glad Rory doesn't see him, isn't interested. I don't know how I'd handle it if I had to watch the two of them holding hands, kissing, laughing and doing other such things teenagers in love enjoy doing in front of their ever-annoyed audience.
Some girls just get everything. How perfectly cruel of them to leave nothing for me... not even Tristan.
The End.