@Bittersweet_Sixteen@
By Mandelarae
Disclaimer: I don't own As Told By Ginger. I just write stories involving her and her zany friends.
A/N: I was outraged that there weren't that many ATBG fics of FF.Net. It's a great show, people! I usually write Gundam Wing fics (I have around 10 that are up), and I'm having difficulty with the saga that I'm writing, so I switched to Ginger. I hope that with enough fics, fanfiction.net will put up a page for ATBG only!
Warning: Slight language. Kinda OOC, but keep in mind that they have matured already.
Chapter 1: I Woke Up To THIS?!?
Ginger Fautley blinked. Crust still graced her eyelids. She was quite certain that it was way before the time she planned to wake up.
And whaddaya know, she was right.
Dodie Bishop was practically eye-to-eye with her, Macie at her side.
"GOD, Dodie! What time is it? And couldn't this have waited 'til morning?" Ginger groaned, sticking her head under her pillow and wrapping her thin blue rocket blanket tighter around her.
"For your information, Ginger, it's 6:00 in the morning," Dodie replied in an all-too perky voice, Ginger noticed.
Macie Lightfoot snorted, as she usually did since she couldn't breathe out of one nostril, and pulled back the curtains to reveal what night had uncovered.
Ginger vigorously rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and blinked yet again. "SNOW?"
Dodie nodded energetically. A little too energetically for 6 a.m., Ginger observed. She assumed that her best friend was increasing her Prozac intake.
"WHY?"
"Something to do with trade winds and fast moving currents and something similar to that," Macie, who'd been watching CNN's early weather report, answered.
"Oh," Ginger yawned, getting up.
"Ginger, we're 16 already. I think we can 86 the polka dot PJs," Dodie pointed out. She opened her bag onto Ginger's bed, and rummaged through it. Ginger's eyes widened as makeup wands, styling gel, tubes of lipstick, blush-on, lip gloss, and eye shadow emerged from the chic Prada backpack that Dodie had blew all her babysitting money and the next two months' allowance on.
Scratching her back, Ginger stretched, and made a beeline for the bathroom, to take a rejuvenating shower, to brush her teeth, to comb her unruly mop of hair.
"Ah!" Dodie exclaimed triumphantly, hoisting December's issue of Miss 6Teen magazine above her head. "I've got it, Ginger! Look!"
Ginger sighed, and walked over to Dodie, her toothbrush still in her mouth.
Dodie flipped to page 67, where girls with nonexistent waists, butts, and thighs were modelling the latest fad, designer pajamas.
"They're all the rage," Dodie explained to her fashion-weary friend.
"I'm sure Courteney Gripling has the entire set already," Macie muttered half-enviously, half-amazedly.
"Designer PAJAMAS?" Ginger repeated. She shook her head and continued brushing her teeth. "Wha'll they think of nex'? D'signer handk'rchiefs?"
"Ooh!" Dodie squealed. "That's on page 89!" She thumbed to said page to reveal same models in rather provocative poses carrying handkerchiefs.
"LOOK, you guys, I'm gonna hit the shower right now, and I think I'd prefer it if you two waited in the kitchen," Ginger replied, rushing to the sink and spitting out the toothpaste and gargling.
"FINE, Ginger!" Dodie snapped. "Macie and I will be discussing faux leather! Right, Macie?"
Macie had dozed off. Ginger took one last peek and grinned. Ever since they had officially been labelled as 'teenagers,' and had officially hit puberty, stuff had changed.
Drastically, she thought as she locked the bathroom door.
By Mandelarae
Disclaimer: I don't own As Told By Ginger. I just write stories involving her and her zany friends.
A/N: I was outraged that there weren't that many ATBG fics of FF.Net. It's a great show, people! I usually write Gundam Wing fics (I have around 10 that are up), and I'm having difficulty with the saga that I'm writing, so I switched to Ginger. I hope that with enough fics, fanfiction.net will put up a page for ATBG only!
Warning: Slight language. Kinda OOC, but keep in mind that they have matured already.
Chapter 1: I Woke Up To THIS?!?
Ginger Fautley blinked. Crust still graced her eyelids. She was quite certain that it was way before the time she planned to wake up.
And whaddaya know, she was right.
Dodie Bishop was practically eye-to-eye with her, Macie at her side.
"GOD, Dodie! What time is it? And couldn't this have waited 'til morning?" Ginger groaned, sticking her head under her pillow and wrapping her thin blue rocket blanket tighter around her.
"For your information, Ginger, it's 6:00 in the morning," Dodie replied in an all-too perky voice, Ginger noticed.
Macie Lightfoot snorted, as she usually did since she couldn't breathe out of one nostril, and pulled back the curtains to reveal what night had uncovered.
Ginger vigorously rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and blinked yet again. "SNOW?"
Dodie nodded energetically. A little too energetically for 6 a.m., Ginger observed. She assumed that her best friend was increasing her Prozac intake.
"WHY?"
"Something to do with trade winds and fast moving currents and something similar to that," Macie, who'd been watching CNN's early weather report, answered.
"Oh," Ginger yawned, getting up.
"Ginger, we're 16 already. I think we can 86 the polka dot PJs," Dodie pointed out. She opened her bag onto Ginger's bed, and rummaged through it. Ginger's eyes widened as makeup wands, styling gel, tubes of lipstick, blush-on, lip gloss, and eye shadow emerged from the chic Prada backpack that Dodie had blew all her babysitting money and the next two months' allowance on.
Scratching her back, Ginger stretched, and made a beeline for the bathroom, to take a rejuvenating shower, to brush her teeth, to comb her unruly mop of hair.
"Ah!" Dodie exclaimed triumphantly, hoisting December's issue of Miss 6Teen magazine above her head. "I've got it, Ginger! Look!"
Ginger sighed, and walked over to Dodie, her toothbrush still in her mouth.
Dodie flipped to page 67, where girls with nonexistent waists, butts, and thighs were modelling the latest fad, designer pajamas.
"They're all the rage," Dodie explained to her fashion-weary friend.
"I'm sure Courteney Gripling has the entire set already," Macie muttered half-enviously, half-amazedly.
"Designer PAJAMAS?" Ginger repeated. She shook her head and continued brushing her teeth. "Wha'll they think of nex'? D'signer handk'rchiefs?"
"Ooh!" Dodie squealed. "That's on page 89!" She thumbed to said page to reveal same models in rather provocative poses carrying handkerchiefs.
"LOOK, you guys, I'm gonna hit the shower right now, and I think I'd prefer it if you two waited in the kitchen," Ginger replied, rushing to the sink and spitting out the toothpaste and gargling.
"FINE, Ginger!" Dodie snapped. "Macie and I will be discussing faux leather! Right, Macie?"
Macie had dozed off. Ginger took one last peek and grinned. Ever since they had officially been labelled as 'teenagers,' and had officially hit puberty, stuff had changed.
Drastically, she thought as she locked the bathroom door.