Author's Note: In case you haven't realized it, I changed the last chapter
(only the last few paragraphs of it). I didn't like how it went with the
rest of the story and I'm the author, so I can. (Fade out on evil
laughter)
Has anyone ever told you how much Monday mornings suck? Well if they haven't, let me: they really suck. They raise the bar for sucking. There's not much that can top Monday mornings when it comes to the category of sucking; except for maybe Algebra. I know, I know, I'm rambling, but I just wanted to make sure you understood how much Mondays suck.
It also doesn't help that I'm really pissed at my best friend -who apparently comes from another planet- that I just happen to be madly in love with. He probably doesn't even care that I'm not talking to him, or for that matter even noticed, that I haven't even uttered a single syllable to him since Thursday night and with me, that's highly atypical; if I haven't talked for about five minutes, people usually start taking my temperature, checking to see if I'm ill. Sure, he's called about five times since then, but thanks to the handy invention known as caller ID, I still haven't had to talk to him; I simply turn the ringer off and pretend that he's not calling. It's easier that way. I just really don't feel up to dealing with him yet.
Right now it's approximately 4:37 in the morning. Monday morning. I can already tell that this day is going to shape up to be horrible. Maybe dad will buy my sick act? Not likely, considering he hasn't fallen for it the -say- eight times I've already tried.
I just don't get why Clark thought he couldn't trust me. We have been friends since my first day in this tiny little farm town and haven't split since. He and Pete are all I have. And they betrayed me.
*****
I am such an idiot. Why'd I do that? Why didn't I just tell her the truth? It would have been way less complicated and I wouldn't be up at four in the morning praying that my best friend won't still hate my guts when I have to face her at school the next day. This is highly unlikely, unless God Himself decides to perform a miracle that suddenly makes her forgive me, and even then it may not work. Chloe's forgiven me every time I've ever screwed up, which has been often, but I doubt she'll be so forgiving this time, I showed her that I have no faith in her at all. Let me reiterate, I am a total and complete idiot. She has every right to be mad at me.
*****
I have no clue what went down between Clark and Chloe, but it was bad. They haven't spoken to each other -not even one syllable- since Friday morning. And, as usual, I'm caught in the middle. I keep begging the both of them to tell me what happened but neither will talk.
It's ridiculous what lengths Chloe's going through just to avoid him. Chloe spends every last bit of her free time in the Torch room and won't even acknowledge Clark's presence when he does somehow manage to get in the same room as her. When he tries to explain himself, or at the very least utter an apology of sorts, she shuts him down and tells him to shove it. She's really pissed.
I think whatever they're fighting about has to do with Clark's Secret because, though she'll actually talk to me, Chloe has been avoiding me too and shooting me the same death stares Clark has been the lucky recipient of. I really hope those two work it all out soon.
*****
I got to school late this morning, pulled my beetle into the spot reserved for the editor of the Torch (It's one of the job's little perks.) and dawdled into school. I could tell right away that this was going to be one long day. I sauntered down to my locker, number four eighty six, and put in my combination. The locker wouldn't budge. I tried it again but it still wouldn't give. I put the combo in again, more slowly this time to lessen the chance of erring, but still no luck.
Who else should be strolling by but our resident superhero. I swear, it's like he's got damsel in distress radar or something. He's looking at me with a slightly amused expression on his face, his green eyes are sparkling, he must have watched the whole thing. He inches tentatively towards me, as though I might bite -then again, with the way he had treated me, he shouldn't be shocked if I were to bite him; a girl needs revenge. And then he taps the locker lightly with two fingers and the stupid thing flies right open. Damn Clark. Why does he always have to be so damn helpful and perfect? It makes it harder to hate him.
Nevertheless, I kept my resolve up and just went to putting my things in my now open locker -without ever uttering even a single word of thanks. Clark walks away with his head hanging slightly and the sparkle in his eye dimmed. But I get right back to retrieving my books. Then I notice something out of the corner of my eye. Flowers. Yellow daises, my favorite, freshly picked. And a card. Must be from Clark, I surmised. His pathetic attempt at an apology. I picked up the card and read it quietly to myself.
"Chloe, I can't help but notice that the twinkle in your eye is gone. Did I do that? If I did, I'm really sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I never do. But more and more recently, I have done just that, without even being aware of what I've done. I know I hurt you when I left you at the formal, even if you covered it up with a smile and a witty comment. I want to apologize for every time I've ever done you wrong, even and especially, when it was unintentional. I can be so dense sometimes -as you and Pete are always so apt to point out- and I won't realize that what I'm doing is hurting you. I'm very sorry for lying to you, I meant to protect you from bearing a burden no one should have to take on but instead I caused you more pain. I understand if you never want to speak or look at me ever again, but I want you to know this; I love you. I'm sorry for any hurt my misguided attempts at protecting you has produced and I take all the blame. I'm a jerk."
It was signed simply "Clark". I felt tears sting my eyes and I hurried into the Torch, flowers and card in tow. I didn't care if I missed class or got a detention. Right then, I just had to figure out what this meant and how I feel.
***** She gasped as she entered the door to her sanctuary, the Torch. The entire room was filled, head to toe, with yellow daises. Clark really went above and beyond this time.
*****
I'm not sure if my plan worked or not. She got the card and her response was the beginnings of tears. My problem is that I don't know whether they were good, I'm going to forgive him tears or bad, I can't believe he's such a jerk tears. I really wish I could buy a clue when it comes to these kinds of things. Whether or not it had the response I have been hoping desperately for, it did elicit a positive effect; it got her to go into the Torch room and see the surprise I had left waiting for her there.
I wonder if she even remembers the significance of those flowers. I hope she does, it would make them so much better.
Chloe and I did go on a date once, before, in eighth grade. From the first day that I had seen her I had known that I would love her forever. And then, when she had kissed me in the barn, I got up the nerve to do what I had been wanting to from the instant I had laid eyes on her. She was nestled in my arms, watching the sun set with me from the loft, and I asked her. "Would you want to go out, with me, this weekend? We could see a movie or have dinner or something." Unfortunately for me, I'm still not much smoother than that when it comes to asking a girl out.
She looked up at me and smiled. "I'd love to." She replied, beaming.
I arrived at her doorstep that Saturday night with a bouquet of yellow daises -picked fresh from the Kent garden- in my arms waiting for her. She smiled brightly at me and told me that they were now her favorite flower. I never forgot.
My mom drove us to the local mall. (It was the closest to an urban activity I could think of in this little farm town.) We wandered aimlessly around it and had dinner at a greasy little chicken place. It was the best time I had ever had. But then I screwed it up. That was the first time I had let her down. The first time I had hurt her. And unfortunately it wouldn't be the last.
She forgave me eventually, with a lot of begging and pleading. But it took her a little while. After all, I had betrayed her. I was so stupid. If I could now, I would take it all back.
The two of us were sitting in the restaurant, waiting for our orders to come, when Lana walked over, looking every bit as beautiful as she always did. She eyed the two of us curiously and asked, "Aren't you the new girl?" Chloe nodded and introduced herself. Then Lana asked her second question, the one that would lead to the demise of my romantic relationship with Chloe. "So, are you two out on a date?"
Before Chloe could reply with a yes, -I had, after all, officially asked her out, why shouldn't she? - I answered with a "We're friends." I could see the tears begin to brim in her eyes and immediately regretted it. But it was too late to take it back.
The ride home was chilly and silent and she refused to answer my calls, very much like how she's acting now, and the following Monday she said angrily to me when I asked her if we could give it another try, "We're just friends, remember?" We haven't spoken of that little incident since and never gave it another try until the formal which I also screwed up because of Lana. What a vicious cycle.
*******
Sorry it's been so long since I've updated, I've had so many things going on; softball, a class trip to Boston, an evil boyfriend, make that EX- boyfriend, trying desperately to finish my articles for the school paper before the deadline is up, and preparing for a formal at my school this Saturday. Please review and tell me what you think of the story so far and if you want me to continue it. If I don't get feedback, how will I know how badly you think this story sucks? Love you guys,
Kelly
Has anyone ever told you how much Monday mornings suck? Well if they haven't, let me: they really suck. They raise the bar for sucking. There's not much that can top Monday mornings when it comes to the category of sucking; except for maybe Algebra. I know, I know, I'm rambling, but I just wanted to make sure you understood how much Mondays suck.
It also doesn't help that I'm really pissed at my best friend -who apparently comes from another planet- that I just happen to be madly in love with. He probably doesn't even care that I'm not talking to him, or for that matter even noticed, that I haven't even uttered a single syllable to him since Thursday night and with me, that's highly atypical; if I haven't talked for about five minutes, people usually start taking my temperature, checking to see if I'm ill. Sure, he's called about five times since then, but thanks to the handy invention known as caller ID, I still haven't had to talk to him; I simply turn the ringer off and pretend that he's not calling. It's easier that way. I just really don't feel up to dealing with him yet.
Right now it's approximately 4:37 in the morning. Monday morning. I can already tell that this day is going to shape up to be horrible. Maybe dad will buy my sick act? Not likely, considering he hasn't fallen for it the -say- eight times I've already tried.
I just don't get why Clark thought he couldn't trust me. We have been friends since my first day in this tiny little farm town and haven't split since. He and Pete are all I have. And they betrayed me.
*****
I am such an idiot. Why'd I do that? Why didn't I just tell her the truth? It would have been way less complicated and I wouldn't be up at four in the morning praying that my best friend won't still hate my guts when I have to face her at school the next day. This is highly unlikely, unless God Himself decides to perform a miracle that suddenly makes her forgive me, and even then it may not work. Chloe's forgiven me every time I've ever screwed up, which has been often, but I doubt she'll be so forgiving this time, I showed her that I have no faith in her at all. Let me reiterate, I am a total and complete idiot. She has every right to be mad at me.
*****
I have no clue what went down between Clark and Chloe, but it was bad. They haven't spoken to each other -not even one syllable- since Friday morning. And, as usual, I'm caught in the middle. I keep begging the both of them to tell me what happened but neither will talk.
It's ridiculous what lengths Chloe's going through just to avoid him. Chloe spends every last bit of her free time in the Torch room and won't even acknowledge Clark's presence when he does somehow manage to get in the same room as her. When he tries to explain himself, or at the very least utter an apology of sorts, she shuts him down and tells him to shove it. She's really pissed.
I think whatever they're fighting about has to do with Clark's Secret because, though she'll actually talk to me, Chloe has been avoiding me too and shooting me the same death stares Clark has been the lucky recipient of. I really hope those two work it all out soon.
*****
I got to school late this morning, pulled my beetle into the spot reserved for the editor of the Torch (It's one of the job's little perks.) and dawdled into school. I could tell right away that this was going to be one long day. I sauntered down to my locker, number four eighty six, and put in my combination. The locker wouldn't budge. I tried it again but it still wouldn't give. I put the combo in again, more slowly this time to lessen the chance of erring, but still no luck.
Who else should be strolling by but our resident superhero. I swear, it's like he's got damsel in distress radar or something. He's looking at me with a slightly amused expression on his face, his green eyes are sparkling, he must have watched the whole thing. He inches tentatively towards me, as though I might bite -then again, with the way he had treated me, he shouldn't be shocked if I were to bite him; a girl needs revenge. And then he taps the locker lightly with two fingers and the stupid thing flies right open. Damn Clark. Why does he always have to be so damn helpful and perfect? It makes it harder to hate him.
Nevertheless, I kept my resolve up and just went to putting my things in my now open locker -without ever uttering even a single word of thanks. Clark walks away with his head hanging slightly and the sparkle in his eye dimmed. But I get right back to retrieving my books. Then I notice something out of the corner of my eye. Flowers. Yellow daises, my favorite, freshly picked. And a card. Must be from Clark, I surmised. His pathetic attempt at an apology. I picked up the card and read it quietly to myself.
"Chloe, I can't help but notice that the twinkle in your eye is gone. Did I do that? If I did, I'm really sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I never do. But more and more recently, I have done just that, without even being aware of what I've done. I know I hurt you when I left you at the formal, even if you covered it up with a smile and a witty comment. I want to apologize for every time I've ever done you wrong, even and especially, when it was unintentional. I can be so dense sometimes -as you and Pete are always so apt to point out- and I won't realize that what I'm doing is hurting you. I'm very sorry for lying to you, I meant to protect you from bearing a burden no one should have to take on but instead I caused you more pain. I understand if you never want to speak or look at me ever again, but I want you to know this; I love you. I'm sorry for any hurt my misguided attempts at protecting you has produced and I take all the blame. I'm a jerk."
It was signed simply "Clark". I felt tears sting my eyes and I hurried into the Torch, flowers and card in tow. I didn't care if I missed class or got a detention. Right then, I just had to figure out what this meant and how I feel.
***** She gasped as she entered the door to her sanctuary, the Torch. The entire room was filled, head to toe, with yellow daises. Clark really went above and beyond this time.
*****
I'm not sure if my plan worked or not. She got the card and her response was the beginnings of tears. My problem is that I don't know whether they were good, I'm going to forgive him tears or bad, I can't believe he's such a jerk tears. I really wish I could buy a clue when it comes to these kinds of things. Whether or not it had the response I have been hoping desperately for, it did elicit a positive effect; it got her to go into the Torch room and see the surprise I had left waiting for her there.
I wonder if she even remembers the significance of those flowers. I hope she does, it would make them so much better.
Chloe and I did go on a date once, before, in eighth grade. From the first day that I had seen her I had known that I would love her forever. And then, when she had kissed me in the barn, I got up the nerve to do what I had been wanting to from the instant I had laid eyes on her. She was nestled in my arms, watching the sun set with me from the loft, and I asked her. "Would you want to go out, with me, this weekend? We could see a movie or have dinner or something." Unfortunately for me, I'm still not much smoother than that when it comes to asking a girl out.
She looked up at me and smiled. "I'd love to." She replied, beaming.
I arrived at her doorstep that Saturday night with a bouquet of yellow daises -picked fresh from the Kent garden- in my arms waiting for her. She smiled brightly at me and told me that they were now her favorite flower. I never forgot.
My mom drove us to the local mall. (It was the closest to an urban activity I could think of in this little farm town.) We wandered aimlessly around it and had dinner at a greasy little chicken place. It was the best time I had ever had. But then I screwed it up. That was the first time I had let her down. The first time I had hurt her. And unfortunately it wouldn't be the last.
She forgave me eventually, with a lot of begging and pleading. But it took her a little while. After all, I had betrayed her. I was so stupid. If I could now, I would take it all back.
The two of us were sitting in the restaurant, waiting for our orders to come, when Lana walked over, looking every bit as beautiful as she always did. She eyed the two of us curiously and asked, "Aren't you the new girl?" Chloe nodded and introduced herself. Then Lana asked her second question, the one that would lead to the demise of my romantic relationship with Chloe. "So, are you two out on a date?"
Before Chloe could reply with a yes, -I had, after all, officially asked her out, why shouldn't she? - I answered with a "We're friends." I could see the tears begin to brim in her eyes and immediately regretted it. But it was too late to take it back.
The ride home was chilly and silent and she refused to answer my calls, very much like how she's acting now, and the following Monday she said angrily to me when I asked her if we could give it another try, "We're just friends, remember?" We haven't spoken of that little incident since and never gave it another try until the formal which I also screwed up because of Lana. What a vicious cycle.
*******
Sorry it's been so long since I've updated, I've had so many things going on; softball, a class trip to Boston, an evil boyfriend, make that EX- boyfriend, trying desperately to finish my articles for the school paper before the deadline is up, and preparing for a formal at my school this Saturday. Please review and tell me what you think of the story so far and if you want me to continue it. If I don't get feedback, how will I know how badly you think this story sucks? Love you guys,
Kelly