I do not own any body here. I wrote this before I actually saw AJBAC, so
details are kinda wrong. I started this ages ago when I saw pictures of Syl
and Krit and left it to rot on my hard drive. Is now slightly edited. I'm
trying to see how the pressure of Outside and expectations could harm an
X5. Or something. Reviewing may lead to more chapters.
Feedback is a good thing.
NO DUMB BLONDES
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter One
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It's strange to be in this flat by myself – usually it's overrun with Krit or Zane who need to crash where Zack can't find them.
My television is in pieces at my feet, waiting for rewiring. I just can't be bothered. I push my hair from my face and pick up a magazine on motorcycle matinence. Zack was right when he said I was like other girls.
Krit was joking around last time he was here, telling me I'm an anomoly – not like any of the other girls – Max, Jondy, Brin, Tinga, Eva, Flin and Jax – all dark hair and dark eyes, tall and slim. Me? I'm tall – taller than the other girls, same height as Krit, a bit shorter than Zack. I'm blonde, naturally, the only blonde girl. And I'm not as thin or wirey as the others. I'm chubbier, rounder, and not as sexy as the others. Well, I've only seen photos, but… I'm the obvious one.
Zack will be here soon and we'll make the four day trip to Seattle to see everyone. Now that the X7s went haywire, we can see each other.
I know this entry doesn't seem all there, but I don't know. Maybe this is how I write. Anyway, my clothes are stuffed in a bag, my hair is brushed and I'm waiting.
He's here now – just standing there stoically. I grab my backpack and follow him the car.
*~*~*~*~*
"Syl? Syl?" someone shakes me. I jerk awake, my hair flying all over the place.
"Yeah?"
"I'm getting food," Zack said, pulling money out of my wallet. "What do you want?"
"Nothing."
"When was the last time you ate, Sylvia?"
Sylvia isn't my name and Zack knows this. I ignore him and tug my hair into a ponytail.
"Sorry Syl. But…"
"This morning, Zack," I snap. "I am fine."
"Suit yourself."
Zack and I are extremely close. Maybe because I follow his orders and don't question them.
Zack return with a hamburger, chips, chocolate and three 2 litre bottles of sugary soda.
I don't eat a whole lot these days – Zane and Krit both compared me to Tinga and Max and told me to lay off fried food and lose some weight. I expect Zack would kill them if he knew. He thinks I look fine. It's the way I'm built.
By the time we reach Wyoming, Zack knows I'm starving and pulls in at a road café.
"I'm honestly not hungry, Zack," I lie, twisting my hands around.
"You know your seizures get worse if you don't eat, Syl. I don't care what you eat as long as you eat." He physically drags me from the car inside the café.
He orders a pile of chips, hamburgers, a cola for himself and a vanilla milkshake for me.
"I won't manage all that," I claim weakly, feeling sleepy and I have a headache.
"You will eat every bite," Zack ordered. A table of children look at us, as a waitress leaves our order on the table, "You will not leave here until you swallow every bite."
I grudging nibble at the burger, not admitting to myself how good it takes. Breakfast had been a piece of toast with a smear of honey. I shrug and want to so very much claim that I was full, but hot food is such a luxury and it tasted so yummy.
"Syl, what's the matter? I send Zane and Krit to see you and all of a sudden you've lost a third of you body weight. What happened?" Zack touched my cheek, as I nibble on a handful of chips. "Tell me Syl."
I give in. "Zane brought photos and compared me to the others, told me I needed to lose weight – when I told Krit, he agreed with Zane. So…"
"You do not need to diet, Syl. You have a completely different body structure to Max or Tinga or Jondy. Don't starve yourself or you'll end up having seizures," Zack looks annoyed.
"Yeah, I know." I finish dinner and we leave the café. Roll on Seattle.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
We arrive at Foggle Towers, sharing a bag of nachos and a container of fried rice. Zack has gone out of his way to be nice – I think he's worried about me.
I'm wearing old, baggy jeans – they're loose in all the wrong places, but Zack said they make me look cool. Tight around the waistband, knees and ankles, loose everywhere else. A blue tank top with bleach stains all over it and my tartan jacket – warm and quilted, I made it from a scorched blanket.
The rain makes my hair stick to me, as we walk towards the entrance.
Foggle Towers is lovely and I look around the room – Max's guy must be cashed up.
"What does Logan do?" I ask in the elevator.
Zack rubs next to his eyes. Logan is eyes…Eyes Only. Makes a lot of sense.
Zack thumps on the door. I slouch a bit, nerves making me sick. I feel fat and awkward as the door swings open to reveal a black man, smiling at us.
"Zack," he nods.
"Bling."
"And this is…"
"Syl," I say, looking at him.
"Syl," he nods, motioning for us to come in. There they are. Krit and Zane, Tinga and Max and Jondy. Logan must be the dude in the wheelchair and the black girl must be Max'' friend Original Cindy.
"Zack."
They all acknowledge him with a grin and turn to me.
Max, Tinga and Jondy all look like exotic supermodels, holding glasses of beer and smiling at me. I am acutely aware of my messed up clothes, my wet hair and my (apparent) state of chubbiness.
"Syl!" Tinga leans over awkwardly and hugs me. This is horrendous. I'm used to Zane and Krit, slinging their arms around my shoulders and squeezing me around the waist. Only Zack hugs me and then I cuddle in – Zack's my big brother, my saviour. Maybe it's because we are genetically related – same mother and extremely similar DNA codes.
"It's been years, chica!" Jondy hugs me too and everyone is watching me. After hugging Max and avoiding the glances of Krit and Zane, I am introduced to OC (as she told me to call her) and Bling, properly.
I am handed a glass of wine and sip it quietly. Zack's watching me warily from the other side of the room.
"…Case is coming up tomorrow with Charlie – he's dying to meet you all," Tinga says, brandishing photos.
"I cannot believe you have a son," Jondy exclaims. "How…bizarre."
My hair is drying all fuzzy and I desperately wish I didn't care – I mean, if it were just the guys and I, I would be guzzling beer and not caring.
"So, Syl, share the wealth," Jondy turns to me. "Boyfriends, lovers, pets, anything."
The wine burns my throat as I look up. "I don't really live that sort of lifestyle. Just me and my flat and whoever needs to raid the fridge."
Ben came by once. I have a 12 inch scar in my right arm from it.
"Come on, when did you first…you know," Max laughed. Too much wine, too many questions. I cannot lie to these faces.
"Uhhh," I begin, trapped. Zack knows how much I hate personal questions, and that headache is beginning to cloud my vision.
"Share," Tinga is laughing and all the males are in the kitchen.
* Krit, 19th December, 10:07 p.m. and I was fifteen. He hurt me and things were never right between us again.*
"I don't remember," I said, sipping the wine. My stomach ached.
"Whoa," Max said. "You can't remember? That's a bit sad, Syl."
I nodded, the wine making me feel ill and worrying making me feel sick and tense.
Zack calls for dinner and we stand up for dinner, but I stumble.
"Syl's had too much wine," Jondy tells everyone, as I try to focus. Focus.
The last thing I remember is being flat on my face, trying to catch my breath before the seizure started.
Feedback is a good thing.
NO DUMB BLONDES
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter One
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It's strange to be in this flat by myself – usually it's overrun with Krit or Zane who need to crash where Zack can't find them.
My television is in pieces at my feet, waiting for rewiring. I just can't be bothered. I push my hair from my face and pick up a magazine on motorcycle matinence. Zack was right when he said I was like other girls.
Krit was joking around last time he was here, telling me I'm an anomoly – not like any of the other girls – Max, Jondy, Brin, Tinga, Eva, Flin and Jax – all dark hair and dark eyes, tall and slim. Me? I'm tall – taller than the other girls, same height as Krit, a bit shorter than Zack. I'm blonde, naturally, the only blonde girl. And I'm not as thin or wirey as the others. I'm chubbier, rounder, and not as sexy as the others. Well, I've only seen photos, but… I'm the obvious one.
Zack will be here soon and we'll make the four day trip to Seattle to see everyone. Now that the X7s went haywire, we can see each other.
I know this entry doesn't seem all there, but I don't know. Maybe this is how I write. Anyway, my clothes are stuffed in a bag, my hair is brushed and I'm waiting.
He's here now – just standing there stoically. I grab my backpack and follow him the car.
*~*~*~*~*
"Syl? Syl?" someone shakes me. I jerk awake, my hair flying all over the place.
"Yeah?"
"I'm getting food," Zack said, pulling money out of my wallet. "What do you want?"
"Nothing."
"When was the last time you ate, Sylvia?"
Sylvia isn't my name and Zack knows this. I ignore him and tug my hair into a ponytail.
"Sorry Syl. But…"
"This morning, Zack," I snap. "I am fine."
"Suit yourself."
Zack and I are extremely close. Maybe because I follow his orders and don't question them.
Zack return with a hamburger, chips, chocolate and three 2 litre bottles of sugary soda.
I don't eat a whole lot these days – Zane and Krit both compared me to Tinga and Max and told me to lay off fried food and lose some weight. I expect Zack would kill them if he knew. He thinks I look fine. It's the way I'm built.
By the time we reach Wyoming, Zack knows I'm starving and pulls in at a road café.
"I'm honestly not hungry, Zack," I lie, twisting my hands around.
"You know your seizures get worse if you don't eat, Syl. I don't care what you eat as long as you eat." He physically drags me from the car inside the café.
He orders a pile of chips, hamburgers, a cola for himself and a vanilla milkshake for me.
"I won't manage all that," I claim weakly, feeling sleepy and I have a headache.
"You will eat every bite," Zack ordered. A table of children look at us, as a waitress leaves our order on the table, "You will not leave here until you swallow every bite."
I grudging nibble at the burger, not admitting to myself how good it takes. Breakfast had been a piece of toast with a smear of honey. I shrug and want to so very much claim that I was full, but hot food is such a luxury and it tasted so yummy.
"Syl, what's the matter? I send Zane and Krit to see you and all of a sudden you've lost a third of you body weight. What happened?" Zack touched my cheek, as I nibble on a handful of chips. "Tell me Syl."
I give in. "Zane brought photos and compared me to the others, told me I needed to lose weight – when I told Krit, he agreed with Zane. So…"
"You do not need to diet, Syl. You have a completely different body structure to Max or Tinga or Jondy. Don't starve yourself or you'll end up having seizures," Zack looks annoyed.
"Yeah, I know." I finish dinner and we leave the café. Roll on Seattle.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
We arrive at Foggle Towers, sharing a bag of nachos and a container of fried rice. Zack has gone out of his way to be nice – I think he's worried about me.
I'm wearing old, baggy jeans – they're loose in all the wrong places, but Zack said they make me look cool. Tight around the waistband, knees and ankles, loose everywhere else. A blue tank top with bleach stains all over it and my tartan jacket – warm and quilted, I made it from a scorched blanket.
The rain makes my hair stick to me, as we walk towards the entrance.
Foggle Towers is lovely and I look around the room – Max's guy must be cashed up.
"What does Logan do?" I ask in the elevator.
Zack rubs next to his eyes. Logan is eyes…Eyes Only. Makes a lot of sense.
Zack thumps on the door. I slouch a bit, nerves making me sick. I feel fat and awkward as the door swings open to reveal a black man, smiling at us.
"Zack," he nods.
"Bling."
"And this is…"
"Syl," I say, looking at him.
"Syl," he nods, motioning for us to come in. There they are. Krit and Zane, Tinga and Max and Jondy. Logan must be the dude in the wheelchair and the black girl must be Max'' friend Original Cindy.
"Zack."
They all acknowledge him with a grin and turn to me.
Max, Tinga and Jondy all look like exotic supermodels, holding glasses of beer and smiling at me. I am acutely aware of my messed up clothes, my wet hair and my (apparent) state of chubbiness.
"Syl!" Tinga leans over awkwardly and hugs me. This is horrendous. I'm used to Zane and Krit, slinging their arms around my shoulders and squeezing me around the waist. Only Zack hugs me and then I cuddle in – Zack's my big brother, my saviour. Maybe it's because we are genetically related – same mother and extremely similar DNA codes.
"It's been years, chica!" Jondy hugs me too and everyone is watching me. After hugging Max and avoiding the glances of Krit and Zane, I am introduced to OC (as she told me to call her) and Bling, properly.
I am handed a glass of wine and sip it quietly. Zack's watching me warily from the other side of the room.
"…Case is coming up tomorrow with Charlie – he's dying to meet you all," Tinga says, brandishing photos.
"I cannot believe you have a son," Jondy exclaims. "How…bizarre."
My hair is drying all fuzzy and I desperately wish I didn't care – I mean, if it were just the guys and I, I would be guzzling beer and not caring.
"So, Syl, share the wealth," Jondy turns to me. "Boyfriends, lovers, pets, anything."
The wine burns my throat as I look up. "I don't really live that sort of lifestyle. Just me and my flat and whoever needs to raid the fridge."
Ben came by once. I have a 12 inch scar in my right arm from it.
"Come on, when did you first…you know," Max laughed. Too much wine, too many questions. I cannot lie to these faces.
"Uhhh," I begin, trapped. Zack knows how much I hate personal questions, and that headache is beginning to cloud my vision.
"Share," Tinga is laughing and all the males are in the kitchen.
* Krit, 19th December, 10:07 p.m. and I was fifteen. He hurt me and things were never right between us again.*
"I don't remember," I said, sipping the wine. My stomach ached.
"Whoa," Max said. "You can't remember? That's a bit sad, Syl."
I nodded, the wine making me feel ill and worrying making me feel sick and tense.
Zack calls for dinner and we stand up for dinner, but I stumble.
"Syl's had too much wine," Jondy tells everyone, as I try to focus. Focus.
The last thing I remember is being flat on my face, trying to catch my breath before the seizure started.