To You I Bestow
Chapter 2
A/N: See Chapter 1 for the disclaimer. Well, this is where the R rating comes in =) Thanks to everyone who reviewed... I appreciate it! Please keep them coming... I'd like to know what you think! BTW: I forgot to say this in the previous A/N, but later on in the next few chapters, you'll know the real reason for the name of the story!
"Where exactly are we going? If this unfinished business involves you, a girl dressed in a miniskirt, and a car, I'm out of here."
He surveyed me for awhile before finally answering. "Mary, would I do something like that to you? I prefer to pick up women at night. Makes it more romantic, ya know?"
I rolled my eyes while thinking of something to say that wasn't sarcastic or rude. Unfortunately, it never worked. "Tristan, don't bullshit me. You don't give a shit as to whether or not it's romantic. All you care about is the size of her boobs and whether or not her ass meets up to your standards."
By that time we had stopped walking, and he looked deep in thought- probably trying to think of something to say that was equally as rude. "Well, it's not like you know about romance anyway. What's your idea of a perfect date? Going out with Bag Boy for some lunch at the supermarket? After all, he does get a discount off of various items. Excluding, of course, already marked down goods."
My hand instantly moved to slap his face, but I thought better of it. Obviously he noticed, because a smug grin appeared on his face. "What's the matter, Mary? Don't like it when I insult pretty boy?"
My hand again appeared - but this time it had full contact with his face. I didn't slap him, but my hand was definitely touching his face- his very, very attractive face.
Did I just say that? Shaking my head as if to rid myself of those thoughts, I began to walk again.
"Mary. Wait up." He caught up to me and looked at me for a minute. It wasn't a very comforting feeling. My stomach was churning, and I began to feel nervous.
"What was that all about?" He asked, obviously as confused as I was.
"It was nothing. I was going to slap you, but thought better of it. After all, I wouldn't want to hurt that flawless face of yours." I ended my comment with a joke, forcing myself to laugh. I tried to swallow but it didn't go down easily.
He raised an eyebrow at me, still confused. Hell, I don't blame him. I don't even know what I did that for. And as far as I know, I don't need to think about it anymore.
"Let's just go take care of your unfinished business, Du Grey. Mrs. Simmons should be back soon."
By then we were approaching a black Mercedes surrounded by guys in Chilton uniforms. I recognized some of them- they appeared to be just as perverted as Tristan usually is. I lost count of the number of them that were looking at me. Not just a quick glance- most of them seemed to concentrate on my boobs. The other half of them looked at my ass. It's not like they were actually interested in anything else. For all they cared, a girl could be a hag as long as they could get a good fuck out of her.
Tristan, who noticed what they were doing, rolled his eyes and walked up to one of them- Mike Cummings. They talked for awhile before Tristan handed him some money. Mike disappeared into the back of the trunk and pulled out a box, handing it to Tristan. I was pretty uncomfortable at this point, so I was glad that Tristan started to walk away from the car. I walked quickly to catch up with him, but since he was walking so fast, it seemed pretty much impossible.
"What are you walking so fast for? In a hurry to get away? What's in the box?"
Glancing over at me, he didn't answer until he had placed the box in the trunk of his own shiny black BMW. Probably a birthday present.
"It's none of your business, Mary. And did you know that you ask too many questions at once?"
Forgetting his last comment, I turned to him. "Well, considering that the box looks too mysterious, I think I have a right to know what's in it. After all, you probably needed me to come with you so it didn't look so obvious."
"Whatever you say, Mary. All you need to be concerned with at the moment are your lines for the play." With that said and done, he opened the door to the auditorium where we were rehearsing the play. Fortunately for the both of us, Mrs. Simmons wasn't back yet.
Sitting down in our chairs, we waited for her to come back, which wasn't until 15 minutes later. She looked exhausted, and I decided that I didn't want to know what she had been doing.
"Alright, I think it's time that our rehearsal is over. I'm sorry if I took too long, but you know what happens when you have to take care of unfinished business!"
Rolling my eyes, I thought of the last words that came out of her mouth- unfinished business. Now where had I heard that before?
"Tristan, dear, about helping Rory with her lines- I believe it would be best to do that during school hours, so I can see how she's improving without having you practice at night- I know how much work the teachers assign you students. I'm thinking- you can help her during your free period?"
Tristan looked like Christmas had been canceled. "Uh, yeah, whatever. During our free. Sure."
As Mrs. Simmons nodded her approval, she left the auditorium, leaving everyone who worked on the play sitting there in silence until they realized that practice was over. Running like a stampede, the students emptied the auditorium in a matter of minutes.
"Guess I'll see you tomorrow at the library. Don't forget! I know how much you want do this," Tristan remarked sarcastically.
"Why don't we just forget about the whole thing, Tristan? I don't want to go, and I'm certain that you don't want to go either. After all, I know how hard it is for you to say no." I smirked to myself.
"Much to your dismay, Mary, I don't think I want to forget about it- after all, I'm sure that I'm getting a reward for this. Meet me tomorrow during your free."
Wondering why he actually wanted to help me (except for the fact that he THOUGHT he was getting a reward), I got up and followed him out of the door. Walking into the parking lot, I saw him arrive at his car, and noticed that he seemed very anxious to see whether or not the box was still there. Knowing that it was none of my business, I walked over to his trunk anyway, and peeked in to see what was in the box.
I wasn't too happy with the results. Why would you be, especially if its contents were filled with pot?
"Tristan, what the fuck ---?" I think I overuse that word at times, but hey, shock does that to you.
Noticing that I was there, he looked over to me and jumped from - what was it, embarrassment or surprise? It took him a minute to figure out what he was going to say, probably because he figured that `goody two shoes Mary' would `tattle' on him to the teachers. "I told you it was none of your business, Mary. And I suggest that you keep it that way." With that said and done, he got into the driver's seat of his car, and started the engine. While he was pulling away, I just stood there, too shocked to move. Too angry to move.
Sure, I knew that some people in my school were dumbasses, and I knew that they do shit like that. But... I guess the thought of Tristan doing that never crossed my mind. Sure, he had all the symptoms- being rich was one of them. He probably figured that since he had the money, he might as well put it to a `good cause'.
Trying to tell myself that it wasn't my problem, I got into my mom's Jeep and started driving. Realizing that it was probably a good time to put some music on to clear my mind, I picked up a random CD. Putting it into the CD player without seeing what it was, I picked a random track and started playing it.
I had a dream last night
'Cause it looked just like a dream,
I had a dream last night
But it looked unlike a dream,
Mercy, mercy, I'm made of parts
Make me a suit so I can get it off,
Heaven help me, my head is spin'n round,
Stop this airplane cause I got to get down
I had a dream last night, and it fit me like a glove
I had a dream last night, and it fit me like a glove, right on,
Here's to the Montagues, John Wayne, and Bette Davis,
And Romeo, he waved before this chorus girl and beggars hair
Juliet is up in heaven, a pocket full of pills
And Jesus drives to Mexico, to get her prescription filled
I had a dream last night, and it fit me like a glove
It was a scream last night
It was getting kinda fun (yeah, rock out, whatever)
I had a dream last night, because she looked just like a dream
I had a dream last night, because she looked just like a dream,
She was on fire last night, and I was breathing gasoline
I had a dream last night, and it fit me like a glove,
I had to scream last night
Lord of Love
I didn't know where to shake my butt
Walked backwards, fucked like a fox
I was more fucked up than your sister's tackle box
Three a.m. at five o'clock
And one of us leaves, and I got shot!
Shot me down
Yeah, whatever, rock out
That's it, that's my rhyme, take it to the streets, bitch.
After the song ended, so many thoughts were running through my head. But there was one main one.
Hm. Exactly what Tristan would have said.
A while later I pulled into the driveway of my house. I couldn't wait to just collapse onto my bed and fall asleep. Who gives a shit about homework?
Chapter 2
A/N: See Chapter 1 for the disclaimer. Well, this is where the R rating comes in =) Thanks to everyone who reviewed... I appreciate it! Please keep them coming... I'd like to know what you think! BTW: I forgot to say this in the previous A/N, but later on in the next few chapters, you'll know the real reason for the name of the story!
"Where exactly are we going? If this unfinished business involves you, a girl dressed in a miniskirt, and a car, I'm out of here."
He surveyed me for awhile before finally answering. "Mary, would I do something like that to you? I prefer to pick up women at night. Makes it more romantic, ya know?"
I rolled my eyes while thinking of something to say that wasn't sarcastic or rude. Unfortunately, it never worked. "Tristan, don't bullshit me. You don't give a shit as to whether or not it's romantic. All you care about is the size of her boobs and whether or not her ass meets up to your standards."
By that time we had stopped walking, and he looked deep in thought- probably trying to think of something to say that was equally as rude. "Well, it's not like you know about romance anyway. What's your idea of a perfect date? Going out with Bag Boy for some lunch at the supermarket? After all, he does get a discount off of various items. Excluding, of course, already marked down goods."
My hand instantly moved to slap his face, but I thought better of it. Obviously he noticed, because a smug grin appeared on his face. "What's the matter, Mary? Don't like it when I insult pretty boy?"
My hand again appeared - but this time it had full contact with his face. I didn't slap him, but my hand was definitely touching his face- his very, very attractive face.
Did I just say that? Shaking my head as if to rid myself of those thoughts, I began to walk again.
"Mary. Wait up." He caught up to me and looked at me for a minute. It wasn't a very comforting feeling. My stomach was churning, and I began to feel nervous.
"What was that all about?" He asked, obviously as confused as I was.
"It was nothing. I was going to slap you, but thought better of it. After all, I wouldn't want to hurt that flawless face of yours." I ended my comment with a joke, forcing myself to laugh. I tried to swallow but it didn't go down easily.
He raised an eyebrow at me, still confused. Hell, I don't blame him. I don't even know what I did that for. And as far as I know, I don't need to think about it anymore.
"Let's just go take care of your unfinished business, Du Grey. Mrs. Simmons should be back soon."
By then we were approaching a black Mercedes surrounded by guys in Chilton uniforms. I recognized some of them- they appeared to be just as perverted as Tristan usually is. I lost count of the number of them that were looking at me. Not just a quick glance- most of them seemed to concentrate on my boobs. The other half of them looked at my ass. It's not like they were actually interested in anything else. For all they cared, a girl could be a hag as long as they could get a good fuck out of her.
Tristan, who noticed what they were doing, rolled his eyes and walked up to one of them- Mike Cummings. They talked for awhile before Tristan handed him some money. Mike disappeared into the back of the trunk and pulled out a box, handing it to Tristan. I was pretty uncomfortable at this point, so I was glad that Tristan started to walk away from the car. I walked quickly to catch up with him, but since he was walking so fast, it seemed pretty much impossible.
"What are you walking so fast for? In a hurry to get away? What's in the box?"
Glancing over at me, he didn't answer until he had placed the box in the trunk of his own shiny black BMW. Probably a birthday present.
"It's none of your business, Mary. And did you know that you ask too many questions at once?"
Forgetting his last comment, I turned to him. "Well, considering that the box looks too mysterious, I think I have a right to know what's in it. After all, you probably needed me to come with you so it didn't look so obvious."
"Whatever you say, Mary. All you need to be concerned with at the moment are your lines for the play." With that said and done, he opened the door to the auditorium where we were rehearsing the play. Fortunately for the both of us, Mrs. Simmons wasn't back yet.
Sitting down in our chairs, we waited for her to come back, which wasn't until 15 minutes later. She looked exhausted, and I decided that I didn't want to know what she had been doing.
"Alright, I think it's time that our rehearsal is over. I'm sorry if I took too long, but you know what happens when you have to take care of unfinished business!"
Rolling my eyes, I thought of the last words that came out of her mouth- unfinished business. Now where had I heard that before?
"Tristan, dear, about helping Rory with her lines- I believe it would be best to do that during school hours, so I can see how she's improving without having you practice at night- I know how much work the teachers assign you students. I'm thinking- you can help her during your free period?"
Tristan looked like Christmas had been canceled. "Uh, yeah, whatever. During our free. Sure."
As Mrs. Simmons nodded her approval, she left the auditorium, leaving everyone who worked on the play sitting there in silence until they realized that practice was over. Running like a stampede, the students emptied the auditorium in a matter of minutes.
"Guess I'll see you tomorrow at the library. Don't forget! I know how much you want do this," Tristan remarked sarcastically.
"Why don't we just forget about the whole thing, Tristan? I don't want to go, and I'm certain that you don't want to go either. After all, I know how hard it is for you to say no." I smirked to myself.
"Much to your dismay, Mary, I don't think I want to forget about it- after all, I'm sure that I'm getting a reward for this. Meet me tomorrow during your free."
Wondering why he actually wanted to help me (except for the fact that he THOUGHT he was getting a reward), I got up and followed him out of the door. Walking into the parking lot, I saw him arrive at his car, and noticed that he seemed very anxious to see whether or not the box was still there. Knowing that it was none of my business, I walked over to his trunk anyway, and peeked in to see what was in the box.
I wasn't too happy with the results. Why would you be, especially if its contents were filled with pot?
"Tristan, what the fuck ---?" I think I overuse that word at times, but hey, shock does that to you.
Noticing that I was there, he looked over to me and jumped from - what was it, embarrassment or surprise? It took him a minute to figure out what he was going to say, probably because he figured that `goody two shoes Mary' would `tattle' on him to the teachers. "I told you it was none of your business, Mary. And I suggest that you keep it that way." With that said and done, he got into the driver's seat of his car, and started the engine. While he was pulling away, I just stood there, too shocked to move. Too angry to move.
Sure, I knew that some people in my school were dumbasses, and I knew that they do shit like that. But... I guess the thought of Tristan doing that never crossed my mind. Sure, he had all the symptoms- being rich was one of them. He probably figured that since he had the money, he might as well put it to a `good cause'.
Trying to tell myself that it wasn't my problem, I got into my mom's Jeep and started driving. Realizing that it was probably a good time to put some music on to clear my mind, I picked up a random CD. Putting it into the CD player without seeing what it was, I picked a random track and started playing it.
I had a dream last night
'Cause it looked just like a dream,
I had a dream last night
But it looked unlike a dream,
Mercy, mercy, I'm made of parts
Make me a suit so I can get it off,
Heaven help me, my head is spin'n round,
Stop this airplane cause I got to get down
I had a dream last night, and it fit me like a glove
I had a dream last night, and it fit me like a glove, right on,
Here's to the Montagues, John Wayne, and Bette Davis,
And Romeo, he waved before this chorus girl and beggars hair
Juliet is up in heaven, a pocket full of pills
And Jesus drives to Mexico, to get her prescription filled
I had a dream last night, and it fit me like a glove
It was a scream last night
It was getting kinda fun (yeah, rock out, whatever)
I had a dream last night, because she looked just like a dream
I had a dream last night, because she looked just like a dream,
She was on fire last night, and I was breathing gasoline
I had a dream last night, and it fit me like a glove,
I had to scream last night
Lord of Love
I didn't know where to shake my butt
Walked backwards, fucked like a fox
I was more fucked up than your sister's tackle box
Three a.m. at five o'clock
And one of us leaves, and I got shot!
Shot me down
Yeah, whatever, rock out
That's it, that's my rhyme, take it to the streets, bitch.
After the song ended, so many thoughts were running through my head. But there was one main one.
Hm. Exactly what Tristan would have said.
A while later I pulled into the driveway of my house. I couldn't wait to just collapse onto my bed and fall asleep. Who gives a shit about homework?