A/N: Alright, I've revised this chapter quite a bit, so if you haven't
reread it, you might want to do so. I didn't like the way Aimee's
character was turning out, and she a lot closer to Misty than I had
planned. So, hopefully, this should be better. To those of you reading
this for the first time, this is just a weird idea I when I got finished
watching Trigun. There isn't much specific animé in this chapter. It
won't really be fan fiction until chapter two or three. Anyway, that's
enough out of me. Enjoy! And, as always, READ AND REVIEW! ^_^
The Many Adventures of Animé Aimee
Chapter One: The Big Game
Stupid teacher. What does he think he's doing giving us this
much homework on a Friday?
Aimee Shaw walked out of her third hour geometry class in a huff. Her teacher, Mr. Andrews, had just assigned 30 problems to the class as the bell rang. As usual, his students grumbled about this being the weekend. The Bradford High Varsity Soccer team had a game that night against their biggest rivals: the Harksfield High Ravens from the neighboring county. Mr. Andrews knew very well that no homework would be done that night by any student with an ounce of school pride. All schoolwork would be left until Sunday night when nearly everything had been forgotten. However, the fortuitous Mr. Andrews insisted on giving homework every night regardless of sports schedules. He simply planned on spending more time reviewing the following Monday.
Aimee tossed long auburn brown hair behind her shoulders and trudged down the hall over the checkerboard style blue and green tiles. Her hazel eyes briefly scanned the lockers lining the walls: blue on the right, green on the left.
There's only one good thing about this stupid school: its colors.
Aimee nearly stopped dead in her tracks as a tall boy with bright green eyes strode past her. As he passed, he pulled a tan hand up to his face and brushed his brown bangs out of his eyes. Aimee smiled in spite of herself.
Okay, two things: the colors and Scott Hayes.
Aimee didn't really believe she had a chance with him. She knew very well that at least twenty or thirty girls in their sophomore class had crushes on him, not to mention several freshman and even a few upperclassmen. Aimee rolled her eyes remembering this and thought of her cousin.
Sharon.
Sharon Dawes, Aimee's junior cousin, had been a thorn in her side ever since Aimee's family moved to Bradford in July. Sharon's father, Aimee's Uncle Eric, had managed to find a secretarial job for his sister, the ex-Mrs. Shaw, after the divorce. Sharon had been a spoiled only child until she was eleven and her brother, Daniel, was born. Throughout their childhood, Sharon had tormented Aimee at every family reunion. Sharon had always insisted on playing everything her way because she was older and, therefore, in charge. She had always played the angel to the adults and made Aimee look like the "bad child." Now that Aimee's mother was under a lot of stress as a single mother of five, Sharon constantly popped in to appear helpful and torment Aimee with harsh verbal abuse.
**flashback**
There was a knock on Aimee's bedroom door. Before she even answered, it swung open, and Sharon entered the room. She wrinkled her nose as she surveyed Aimee sitting on her bed watching her bedroom TV with a built-in VCR.
"Aimee," she began in her usual snotty tone, "You really should stop watching all this animé stuff. You have no idea how unpopular it makes you. Everyone at school thinks you're a freak."
"Well, 'hello' to you, too," Aimee replied coolly. "If you haven't noticed, Sharon dear, I don't really care if I'm popular or not."
"You've made it quite apparent," Sharon countered sticking her rather pointy nose in the air as she casually flipped her long blonde hair. "I'm only trying to look out for you. I think you'll get tired of being a social outcast pretty quickly."
By now, one might have confused Aimee's bedroom with the North Pole.
"I'll be sure to let you know when I do get tired of it," Aimee retorted dryly. "Now, what do you want anyway?"
"Oh, just thought I'd let you know that the kids need dinner and Brian needs help with his homework."
Aimee glared at the stick-thin blonde girl in her doorway, "You're supposed to be here to baby-sit and give me a night off tonight! You go make dinner and help with homework!"
"Unfortunately," Sharon replied, grinning maliciously, "something urgent came up. Tammi and Karla simply can't do without me! Anyway, it's not like you're going out to do anything or like you have anyone to hang out with. Gotta run!"
Sharon waved cheekily and began to leave but turned back and added, "Oh, and I know Aunt Kim grounded you from animé this week, so I'd suggest you don't mention this to either her or my mom. Thanks!" Aimee clenched her fists in pure rage as Sharon ran down the hall laughing. She heard the front door open and slam shut.
"Bitch," she muttered angrily.
**end flashback**
Aimee suddenly noticed that her knuckles were now white. She had been clenching her fists again at the mere memory of her cousin's sassy, selfish attitude.
Yeah, her "emergency" was about as urgent as seeing another stupid
chick flick at the theatre. What a wench!
She rounded a corner on the way to her fourth hour biology class and nearly ran into none other than her dear, sweet cousin, Sharon Dawes.
I believe the phrase is "speak of the devil" not "think of the devil."
Sharon met her with an icy glare, "What are you lookin' at, freak?"
Sharon had strictly forbidden Aimee to act as though they knew each other while they were at school or doing nearly anything in public. She decided to push the limits today.
"I'm not really sure," she replied with an equally cold glare, "but whatever it is, it's hideous."
Sharon's face turned white. Having nothing else to say, she shrieked back, "Freak!"
She shoved a piece of paper into Aimee's left hand and kept walking with her friends while she said loudly, "I really can't stand those underclassmen! The have, like, no respect! So anyway, he starts putting his arm around me in the middle of the show. Like, five minutes later, I was havin' to shove him off! I, like, couldn't believe."
Aimee suddenly realized she was standing in the middle of a crowded hall when someone grabbed her shoulder.
She spun around in surprise. It was Misty Carver, one of Aimee's few friends at Bradford High. She was tall, alarming thin girl with short dark black hair with crimson streaks in it. The two girls had met in their seventh hour drama class. Which made perfect sense as the rest of Misty's friends were drama goths.
"Hey, Aimee. Preppies givin' you problems?" she asked jerking her head towards Sharon and her friends.
Aimee shook her head as she stuffed the note into her pocket, "Not really."
Misty peered over at Sharon who was turning down another hall, "You're related to one of them, aren't you?"
"Unfortunately," Aimee muttered as the began walking down the hall. Near the end, they stopped at one of the doors.
"See ya after class for lunch," Misty said.
"Later," Aimee replied as Misty entered the classroom.
She hurried up the stairs at the end of the hall and got to her class just before the bell rang. She threw her book bag on the floor and sank into a desk, ready to be bored to sleep. Mrs. Carson could drone on for hours and hours if she were allowed to do so. Fortunately, for her students, her class only lasted an hour. They all knew the class would not become interesting until November when they started dissections. For now, they had to wait slowly and silently. Aimee had nearly fallen asleep when she suddenly remembered Sharon's note which she had shoved in her pocket the moment she had seen Misty. She thought about it for a moment and decided that reading Sharon's note would, in fact, be better than listening to the dumpy gray-haired Mrs. Carson's monotone lecture on enzymes. Aimee slowly took the note out and opened it beneath her desk:
Can't watch the kids tonight. One of the soccer managers fell sick,
and I've gotta fill in for her. Have fun!
"Bitch," Aimee muttered to herself.
"I'm sorry, Miss Shaw, did you say something?"
Aimee jumped, startled at being addressed.
"N-no, nothing," she replied turning crimson red.
Mrs. Carson eyed her thoughtfully, "Alright then, class. As I was saying, enzymes are used in nearly every process that occurs in an organism."
Aimee sighed softly in relief. She let her gaze wander to the windows at the far right of the room.
The sun was shining very brightly outside. Aimee looked up at it for a few moments. Her eyes started to cross as she began to doze off again. As her eyes crossed further, the image of the sun split in two.
Wow. It's like Trigun.
Her head drooped down until it was touching her desk.
I'm just gonna rest for a bit.
Suddenly, the bell was ringing and about 20 dazed students began to stand up, stretch, and hurry out of the room for lunch while their teacher droned on, "Remember to finish reading chapter three for Monday." Aimee managed to stumble down the stairs without hurting herself. Misty was leaning against the wall at the bottom waiting for her.
"Fell asleep during Carson's class again, didn't you?" Misty she said with a knowing half-grin.
"That woman doesn't know when to quit," Aimee complained groggily.
"Get some caffeine, and you'll be fine," Misty replied as they headed towards the cafeteria.
A few minutes later, the two girls were sitting at a table full of goths. The majority of them had black hair (whether it was dyed or natural), several facial piercings, and heavy eye make-up. Several of the girls wore black lipstick or fishnet hose. Misty was definitely one of the tamer ones. Her hair was naturally black. She only had two holes in each ear. She didn't bother with black lipstick and wore black pants instead of fishnets.
And, then, Aimee was tamer, still. Her mother refused to let her dye her hair or pierce her ears more than once. They did not have much extra money to spend on clothes once they had moved to Bradford, so Aimee could not always wear black and tended to stick out like a sore thumb at their lunch table. However, this did not bother any of the goths. They were some of the few people who had accepted Aimee without a second thought when she had joined their school.
Aimee sighed and opened her can of Pepsi in the loud, crowded cafeteria. She took a huge gulp and sighed again.
"Only three hours left!"
"Amen to that!" Misty sounded in reply.
The bell rang ending sixth hour, and Aimee hurried out of her English class. She still had to go to her locker on the second floor before heading back downstairs to her drama class. When she reached her locker, there were several girls standing in front of it talking.
"Excuse me, please," she said hurriedly try to get to her locker.
"Oh, it's the little animé girl," taunted a rather large, pig-nosed girl. Her hair had been dyed blonde but her dark brunette roots were showing.
Aimee folded her arms and began to glare at the pig girl.
"Yeah, the nerd!" added another, though shorter and skinnier, fake blonde with a pointy, rat-like nose.
"At least I didn't bleach my brains away," Aimee replied scathingly. "By the way, I'd like to get to my locker sometime today if you don't mind."
"You know, I think she'd like us to get out of her way," the rat girl said to her friends as she turned a bitter glare on Aimee.
Suddenly, all five girls were standing in front of Aimee's locker glaring at her.
"And I think it'd be very nice if you did, Lauren," interrupted a male voice.
Aimee spun around in surprise for the second time that day. Scott Hayes.
"We were just about to, Scott," Lauren the rat girl replied, smiling nervously. "C'mon, girls, let's get to class."
The group began to walk away, still glaring at Aimee.
"Thanks," she said quite flustered as she turned to her locker. She opened it, and, for the first time, she wished it was not filled with her animé drawings. She quickly removed her books and slammed the locker shut.
"It was nothing," Scott replied cheerfully. "We have seventh hour together. Would you like to walk to class with me?"
Aimee stared at him in shock for a moment before finding her voice, "Yeah. Sure, I'd love to!"
"Great!" he smiled at her.
This is unbelievable. I'm walking to class with Scott Hayes. Most
girls would kill for this.
Then she remembered the looks she'd gotten from Lauren and her friends.
Oh, yeah.
"I noticed those drawings in your locker," Scott said.
Great. Play it cool.
Aimee shrugged, "I like drawing in my spare time. I'm experimenting with the Japanese style."
"They're really good. Were they all done freehand?"
"Yeah," she replied surprised.
He's actually interested in this stuff?
"You could probably get an animating job someday."
Wow, now there's a compliment.
"Thanks," Aimee said flattered.
All too soon, they had reached the classroom.
"And thanks for walking with me, Scott," Aimee said, "That was really nice of you."
He shrugged, "I just don't like seeing people picked on. We're all a lot happier without that crap." Aimee smiled and looked up. Misty was entering the room just as the bell was ringing. She slid into the desk next to Aimee's. She had seen who Aimee had been talking to and raised her eyebrows.
"What was that all about?" she whispered.
Aimee quickly pulled out a piece of paper and a pen a scribbled down what had occurred. She waited until Miss Taylor had her back to the class and quickly passed the note to her friend. Misty read it and rolled her eyes, then wrote something on it herself and passed it back to Aimee with her characteristic half-grin. Aimee casually took it and opened it carefully. There were three words on it:
Damsel in distress
Aimee looked back at her friend and smiled ruefully. She then turned back to the paper and wrote a second message on it.
He's really not as bad as most preps.
Misty read the note and looked mockingly hurt back at Aimee before passing her response.
I know that! He's one of the few decent ones. He's not a jerk, and
he tries to get along with everyone. If he were like most preps, I'd
be slapping you up the side of the head right now.
Aimee grinned back at her friend before turning to take actual notes for the class. They were currently studying Shakespeare's particular style of drama which managed to interest most of the students. Aimee wasn't sure if it was the subject or the fact that Scott Hayes was sitting right in front of her, but seventh hour seemed much shorter than usual that day. Soon, the bell rang, and everyone jumped up, eager to get out of school on a Friday.
I could at least try talking to him again.
Scott walked past her, headed towards the door.
"Good luck at the game tonight, Scott!" she called out cheerfully.
He stopped and smiled at her.
"Thanks!" he replied. "You'll be there tonight, won't you?"
Aimee cringed.
"Um, well, I'll try," she said lamely and turned back to her book bag.
"Well, see ya later, then," he replied.
"Bye," Aimee said falsely cheerful.
He walked out of the room and into the hall. Misty turned on her.
"Why can't you come?"
"I said I'd try," Aimee replied more harshly than she'd meant to.
"I highly doubt you'd want to miss his 'big game'," Misty fired back in a slightly mocking tone.
"Give it a rest, okay?" A plan was already forming in her head. "I'll be there, alright?"
Misty responded with her half-grin, "Alright, I'll see you there."
On the walk home, Aimee reviewed the plan in her mind. She would pay her 13-year-old brother, John, to watch the kids for the evening. She'd tell the others that she would be in her room doing homework, and that she wasn't to be disturbed.
It's really stupid that Mom won't just let John watch the kids
sometimes. He's certainly old enough and responsible enough. She's
too old fashioned. Guys are perfectly capable of taking care of
children.
If everything worked out properly, Aimee could stay for the whole game and still be home before her mother.
It's the end of the month, so Mom'll be finishing up paperwork
afterhours tonight. Last time she didn't get home 'til past 11 o'
clock.
The plan was flawless. All she had to was make it out of the house and back in without the younger kids knowing. Aimee strode down the street with a new spring to her step.
If things won't go your way, you have to make them go your way!
Nearly two hours later, Aimee crept out of her bedroom and tiptoed past the living room where Brian and David were watching cartoons. Cara was sitting in an armchair chattering away on the phone. John was in the kitchen doing his algebra homework and keeping an eye on the casserole Aimee had put in the oven. When Aimee had promised him fifteen dollars to do this for her, he had readily agreed. He had been saving his money for a new bike and was always ready to make more. On top of that, the two of them were unusually close for siblings. Aimee believed that came from having to deal with their parents' divorce, not to mention their fights over the past few years.
Their father was a workaholic lawyer. Their mother, a conservative stay-at-home mom, would quickly get frustrated when he would be late for dinner or miss family outings. Communication between the two grew strained as Kimberlyn Shaw began to nag her husband for not spending more time with the family. Her husband, Darren, got tired of listening to her nit picking and began to spend less and less time at home. Soon, he had a great deal more meetings, seminars, and away calls than usual. It did not take long for Mrs. Shaw to become suspicious. Soon, she was nagging him all the more when he actually showed up at the house. Finally, Mr. Shaw decided he could take it no longer and filed for divorce. As a lawyer, he managed to get his way with everything except for custody of the children. He kept their large, beautiful house in Farndale and managed to weasel his way out of paying much child support. Kim was forced to take the kids and leave. And she did so under her maiden name of Dawes. She moved to her hometown of Bradford and found a small, rather cramped, three bedroom house to rent.
Both John and Aimee were furious at the father for what he had done to their mother. It did not help in the slightest that a week after the divorce went through, a pretty twenty-six year-old girl named Sandy Evans moved in their father. They all secretly suspected that Mr. Shaw's extra meetings mysteriously had the same name. Kim Dawes had recovered somewhat by being around old friends from her childhood but still held a slight bitterness and was often stressed out trying to juggle family and work. Occasionally, this stress was taken out on Aimee. Though they loved each other, they did not always see eye-to- eye. Aimee shook herself from her reveries.
Alright. Here we go!
She crept into the entryway and carefully opened the door. It creaked loudly, and she stopped expecting the kids to come running any minute.
I don't have enough candy stowed away to bribe all three of them.
Someone's bound to slip and tell Mom anyway.
Fifteen seconds passed. No one had heard it. Aimee began to breathe again. She slipped out the door, her cell phone in her pocket, and began walking confidently back to the school.
Several minutes later, Aimee had reached the front gate and found Misty and three of their other friends waiting for her. By this time, the parking lot was completely full and people had begun to park on the grass. The Parents' Organization had set up a large pre-game barbeque for all the Bradford fans. Since none of them had eaten dinner yet, they got in line for the burgers. There was a long line of tables set up with the hamburgers, hotdogs, buns, and condiments. All the fans had formed a line on the right side, while the JV and Varsity players lined up on the left. Without meaning to, Aimee began listening to a conversation several people ahead of her. ".So, I told him that she was a loser, not worth his time. She's just a little animé freak! But you know Scott; he just can't stand it when we have a bit of fun with someone. He's just too nice."
It had only taken Aimee a few moments to recognize that voice: Lauren Travis: rat girl. Aimee began to clench her fists despite efforts to hold her temper.
"People like that just piss me off," she muttered to Misty who had heard the conversation as well. "They just assume that they're better than everyone else, and they're not!"
"Don't listen to them. They're a bunch of airheads," Misty murmured back. "They only do this because they aren't confident enough in themselves. They have to put down others to make themselves look better."
"Yeah? Well, it doesn't make it right. I know Scott's friends with them, but I can't understand how or why. You'd think he couldn't stand people who act like that."
"Perhaps he looks past their faults," said a male voice behind her.
Aimee whirled around to see none other than Scott Hayes in the players' line.
"S-Scott," she stammered in shock.
His face broke into a wide grin, "Don't worry, I get that reaction a lot."
Aimee smiled wanly back, "You're a much better person than the rest of us, then."
He shrugged, "Not really. I just don't judge people. It's not worth my time. I've got plenty of better things to do."
"No kidding!" Misty piped in. (half-grin) "For as long as I've known you, you've been involved in way too many extra-curricular activities! I mean, you're in computer club and drama club on top of being on the Varsity soccer and baseball teams. Not to mention being the vice- president of the sophomore class. Oh yeah, and you started the Psych Club, too, didn't you?"
Scott grinned sheepishly, "Okay, so I'm an over-achiever. So what? At least I'm doing something constructive."
Misty smiled again, "Enough to make up for the rest of us!"
"Maybe it'll all come to something someday," he replied, shrugging a second time. "Enough about that, though. I'm glad you could make it, Aimee. You didn't seem so sure in class today."
"It turns out I was able to make it after all," she said with a confident smile.
"That's good," Scott replied with a smile. "It should be an intense game. The Ravens are really good this year."
"Yeah, I'm pretty excited. I haven't been to a soccer game in awhile."
Some of the other players were trying to get Scott's attention.
"Well, I've gotta go. I'll see you after the game!"
"Good luck!" Aimee called as Scott turned to talk to his friends.
Misty studied her friend carefully and raise her eyebrow, "I'd have to say: That went well."
Aimee half-grinned, "Yeah, I guess it did."
I didn't notice how much Misty's been rubbing off on me. She's not
really like Ashley, but it's nice to at least have someone here.
Ashley Parks was Aimee's best friend back in Farndale. Her father had been a prominent doctor and very good friends with Aimee's father. They had known each other for years, and their daughters had been raised together. The absolute worst thing about the divorce had been leaving Ashley.
**flashback**
Aimee stood in her bedroom in their large Farndale home. It was empty except for a few boxes of her belongings. Her soul felt as bare as the room. Everything she had ever known had been ripped away from her.
You're such a jerk, Dad. How could you do this to us? to Mom? to me?
You were supposed to be the one who understood me. I was always
Daddy's little girl, and now you're letting me...and everyone
else...go just for some Barbie doll secretary! Do you realize how
much pain you're causing by thinking with your balls? You're making
me leave my school, my home, my friends... You're making me leave
Ashley!
Someone grabbed her hand. Aimee turned to see her best friend, and she burst into tears. Ashley embraced her in a great big hug and cried with her.
The two girls spent the afternoon laughing and mostly crying together as they went through Aimee's boxes and remembered all the sleepovers and school projects they'd been through in that room. They spent hours pouring over each other's animé drawings. They had both started watching various Japanese cartoons three years before when Aimee's parents had begun fighting enough for it to really bother her.
She's always been there for me. Back when all the problems started,
she'd have me over as much as possible so I could get away from it.
She helped me explain it to the kids when Mom and Dad yelled at each
other all the time. She's really been my saving grace. She's given
me more support than anyone else. My God, I'm going to miss her.
**end flashback**
Aimee turned her attention back to the moment. There really wasn't a reason to be thinking about Ashley right now. It would only depress her. Right now, she needed to focus on being happy with the situation she was in. It was going to be a great game.
It was the second period of the Varsity game. Bradford was ahead by two points, and they'd won the JV game 3-0. Aimee and Misty had been sitting in the students section which, as this was the biggest soccer game of the season, was very full.
"I'm getting' thirsty," Misty said, "Do you wanna go get a pop or something?"
"Sure," Aimee replied, "we can't get behind by much now!"
The two girls headed carefully down bleachers toward the concession stands.
Misty took one look at the long lines and said, "It's gonna be awhile."
"Well, we've got time. We can wait."
Suddenly, someone returning from the concession stands bumped into Aimee and, rudely, kept walking without saying at thing.
"Excuse you!" Aimee said indignantly.
The person spun around, flipping long blonde hair, to counter her. It was Sharon.
"Hey! You're supposed to be at home!"
Aimee clenched her fists in rage and replied, "And you're supposed to be a soccer manager!"
Sharon glanced nervously around, "Well, I asked first to come, so you're the one who's supposed to watch the kids tonight."
"You're so selfish, Sharon! Why don't you ever think about anyone else?"
"Well, I'm thinking about you right now! Daddy called just before I left. He said they've never had an easier time finishing up monthly paperwork. He said everyone should be home by 9:30 at the latest. You're gonna be in deep trouble!"
Sharon spun back around and stalked off with her friends.
Aimee looked at her watch: 9:25. Her face turned ashen.
"Crap!" she whispered to herself then turned to Misty and said, "I've gotta go, now. I'll see you Monday!"
"What about Scott? He said he'd see you after the game?"
"Cover for me, okay?" Aimee pleaded
"Alright," Misty sighed, "See you Monday."
Within a few minutes, Aimee was off the school grounds and sprinting home.
Please, don't let Mom be home yet!
Aimee turned the corner on to her street only to find her mother's car pulling into the driveway.
"No!" she gasped.
Maybe I can slip in and she won't notice me.
Aimee ducked into the bushes and watched as her mother walked up the sidewalk to the house, pulled out her key, unlocked the door, and walked inside. Quietly, Aimee slipped over to the door and watched through the window as her mother walked into the kitchen to answer the phone.
Now's my chance!
As carefully as possible, Aimee opened the door and began to walk inside. Suddenly, she heard her mother yell, "She what?!' Kim Dawes stormed angrily into the entryway to find her daughter standing in the doorway cringing.
I am so dead!
"Hi, Mom," Aimee muttered guiltily.
"Go to your room this instant," her mother replied, her jaw clenched, "No TV. No computer. No phone. You're grounded for a month."
"Yes, ma'am," she said quietly as she headed off to her room.
A/N: Okay, so it's a little weird right now. But I have plans for actual animé stuff to come into play pretty soon. Read and review. Coming soon (hopefully): Chapter Two: The Secret Room
The Many Adventures of Animé Aimee
Chapter One: The Big Game
Stupid teacher. What does he think he's doing giving us this
much homework on a Friday?
Aimee Shaw walked out of her third hour geometry class in a huff. Her teacher, Mr. Andrews, had just assigned 30 problems to the class as the bell rang. As usual, his students grumbled about this being the weekend. The Bradford High Varsity Soccer team had a game that night against their biggest rivals: the Harksfield High Ravens from the neighboring county. Mr. Andrews knew very well that no homework would be done that night by any student with an ounce of school pride. All schoolwork would be left until Sunday night when nearly everything had been forgotten. However, the fortuitous Mr. Andrews insisted on giving homework every night regardless of sports schedules. He simply planned on spending more time reviewing the following Monday.
Aimee tossed long auburn brown hair behind her shoulders and trudged down the hall over the checkerboard style blue and green tiles. Her hazel eyes briefly scanned the lockers lining the walls: blue on the right, green on the left.
There's only one good thing about this stupid school: its colors.
Aimee nearly stopped dead in her tracks as a tall boy with bright green eyes strode past her. As he passed, he pulled a tan hand up to his face and brushed his brown bangs out of his eyes. Aimee smiled in spite of herself.
Okay, two things: the colors and Scott Hayes.
Aimee didn't really believe she had a chance with him. She knew very well that at least twenty or thirty girls in their sophomore class had crushes on him, not to mention several freshman and even a few upperclassmen. Aimee rolled her eyes remembering this and thought of her cousin.
Sharon.
Sharon Dawes, Aimee's junior cousin, had been a thorn in her side ever since Aimee's family moved to Bradford in July. Sharon's father, Aimee's Uncle Eric, had managed to find a secretarial job for his sister, the ex-Mrs. Shaw, after the divorce. Sharon had been a spoiled only child until she was eleven and her brother, Daniel, was born. Throughout their childhood, Sharon had tormented Aimee at every family reunion. Sharon had always insisted on playing everything her way because she was older and, therefore, in charge. She had always played the angel to the adults and made Aimee look like the "bad child." Now that Aimee's mother was under a lot of stress as a single mother of five, Sharon constantly popped in to appear helpful and torment Aimee with harsh verbal abuse.
**flashback**
There was a knock on Aimee's bedroom door. Before she even answered, it swung open, and Sharon entered the room. She wrinkled her nose as she surveyed Aimee sitting on her bed watching her bedroom TV with a built-in VCR.
"Aimee," she began in her usual snotty tone, "You really should stop watching all this animé stuff. You have no idea how unpopular it makes you. Everyone at school thinks you're a freak."
"Well, 'hello' to you, too," Aimee replied coolly. "If you haven't noticed, Sharon dear, I don't really care if I'm popular or not."
"You've made it quite apparent," Sharon countered sticking her rather pointy nose in the air as she casually flipped her long blonde hair. "I'm only trying to look out for you. I think you'll get tired of being a social outcast pretty quickly."
By now, one might have confused Aimee's bedroom with the North Pole.
"I'll be sure to let you know when I do get tired of it," Aimee retorted dryly. "Now, what do you want anyway?"
"Oh, just thought I'd let you know that the kids need dinner and Brian needs help with his homework."
Aimee glared at the stick-thin blonde girl in her doorway, "You're supposed to be here to baby-sit and give me a night off tonight! You go make dinner and help with homework!"
"Unfortunately," Sharon replied, grinning maliciously, "something urgent came up. Tammi and Karla simply can't do without me! Anyway, it's not like you're going out to do anything or like you have anyone to hang out with. Gotta run!"
Sharon waved cheekily and began to leave but turned back and added, "Oh, and I know Aunt Kim grounded you from animé this week, so I'd suggest you don't mention this to either her or my mom. Thanks!" Aimee clenched her fists in pure rage as Sharon ran down the hall laughing. She heard the front door open and slam shut.
"Bitch," she muttered angrily.
**end flashback**
Aimee suddenly noticed that her knuckles were now white. She had been clenching her fists again at the mere memory of her cousin's sassy, selfish attitude.
Yeah, her "emergency" was about as urgent as seeing another stupid
chick flick at the theatre. What a wench!
She rounded a corner on the way to her fourth hour biology class and nearly ran into none other than her dear, sweet cousin, Sharon Dawes.
I believe the phrase is "speak of the devil" not "think of the devil."
Sharon met her with an icy glare, "What are you lookin' at, freak?"
Sharon had strictly forbidden Aimee to act as though they knew each other while they were at school or doing nearly anything in public. She decided to push the limits today.
"I'm not really sure," she replied with an equally cold glare, "but whatever it is, it's hideous."
Sharon's face turned white. Having nothing else to say, she shrieked back, "Freak!"
She shoved a piece of paper into Aimee's left hand and kept walking with her friends while she said loudly, "I really can't stand those underclassmen! The have, like, no respect! So anyway, he starts putting his arm around me in the middle of the show. Like, five minutes later, I was havin' to shove him off! I, like, couldn't believe."
Aimee suddenly realized she was standing in the middle of a crowded hall when someone grabbed her shoulder.
She spun around in surprise. It was Misty Carver, one of Aimee's few friends at Bradford High. She was tall, alarming thin girl with short dark black hair with crimson streaks in it. The two girls had met in their seventh hour drama class. Which made perfect sense as the rest of Misty's friends were drama goths.
"Hey, Aimee. Preppies givin' you problems?" she asked jerking her head towards Sharon and her friends.
Aimee shook her head as she stuffed the note into her pocket, "Not really."
Misty peered over at Sharon who was turning down another hall, "You're related to one of them, aren't you?"
"Unfortunately," Aimee muttered as the began walking down the hall. Near the end, they stopped at one of the doors.
"See ya after class for lunch," Misty said.
"Later," Aimee replied as Misty entered the classroom.
She hurried up the stairs at the end of the hall and got to her class just before the bell rang. She threw her book bag on the floor and sank into a desk, ready to be bored to sleep. Mrs. Carson could drone on for hours and hours if she were allowed to do so. Fortunately, for her students, her class only lasted an hour. They all knew the class would not become interesting until November when they started dissections. For now, they had to wait slowly and silently. Aimee had nearly fallen asleep when she suddenly remembered Sharon's note which she had shoved in her pocket the moment she had seen Misty. She thought about it for a moment and decided that reading Sharon's note would, in fact, be better than listening to the dumpy gray-haired Mrs. Carson's monotone lecture on enzymes. Aimee slowly took the note out and opened it beneath her desk:
Can't watch the kids tonight. One of the soccer managers fell sick,
and I've gotta fill in for her. Have fun!
"Bitch," Aimee muttered to herself.
"I'm sorry, Miss Shaw, did you say something?"
Aimee jumped, startled at being addressed.
"N-no, nothing," she replied turning crimson red.
Mrs. Carson eyed her thoughtfully, "Alright then, class. As I was saying, enzymes are used in nearly every process that occurs in an organism."
Aimee sighed softly in relief. She let her gaze wander to the windows at the far right of the room.
The sun was shining very brightly outside. Aimee looked up at it for a few moments. Her eyes started to cross as she began to doze off again. As her eyes crossed further, the image of the sun split in two.
Wow. It's like Trigun.
Her head drooped down until it was touching her desk.
I'm just gonna rest for a bit.
Suddenly, the bell was ringing and about 20 dazed students began to stand up, stretch, and hurry out of the room for lunch while their teacher droned on, "Remember to finish reading chapter three for Monday." Aimee managed to stumble down the stairs without hurting herself. Misty was leaning against the wall at the bottom waiting for her.
"Fell asleep during Carson's class again, didn't you?" Misty she said with a knowing half-grin.
"That woman doesn't know when to quit," Aimee complained groggily.
"Get some caffeine, and you'll be fine," Misty replied as they headed towards the cafeteria.
A few minutes later, the two girls were sitting at a table full of goths. The majority of them had black hair (whether it was dyed or natural), several facial piercings, and heavy eye make-up. Several of the girls wore black lipstick or fishnet hose. Misty was definitely one of the tamer ones. Her hair was naturally black. She only had two holes in each ear. She didn't bother with black lipstick and wore black pants instead of fishnets.
And, then, Aimee was tamer, still. Her mother refused to let her dye her hair or pierce her ears more than once. They did not have much extra money to spend on clothes once they had moved to Bradford, so Aimee could not always wear black and tended to stick out like a sore thumb at their lunch table. However, this did not bother any of the goths. They were some of the few people who had accepted Aimee without a second thought when she had joined their school.
Aimee sighed and opened her can of Pepsi in the loud, crowded cafeteria. She took a huge gulp and sighed again.
"Only three hours left!"
"Amen to that!" Misty sounded in reply.
The bell rang ending sixth hour, and Aimee hurried out of her English class. She still had to go to her locker on the second floor before heading back downstairs to her drama class. When she reached her locker, there were several girls standing in front of it talking.
"Excuse me, please," she said hurriedly try to get to her locker.
"Oh, it's the little animé girl," taunted a rather large, pig-nosed girl. Her hair had been dyed blonde but her dark brunette roots were showing.
Aimee folded her arms and began to glare at the pig girl.
"Yeah, the nerd!" added another, though shorter and skinnier, fake blonde with a pointy, rat-like nose.
"At least I didn't bleach my brains away," Aimee replied scathingly. "By the way, I'd like to get to my locker sometime today if you don't mind."
"You know, I think she'd like us to get out of her way," the rat girl said to her friends as she turned a bitter glare on Aimee.
Suddenly, all five girls were standing in front of Aimee's locker glaring at her.
"And I think it'd be very nice if you did, Lauren," interrupted a male voice.
Aimee spun around in surprise for the second time that day. Scott Hayes.
"We were just about to, Scott," Lauren the rat girl replied, smiling nervously. "C'mon, girls, let's get to class."
The group began to walk away, still glaring at Aimee.
"Thanks," she said quite flustered as she turned to her locker. She opened it, and, for the first time, she wished it was not filled with her animé drawings. She quickly removed her books and slammed the locker shut.
"It was nothing," Scott replied cheerfully. "We have seventh hour together. Would you like to walk to class with me?"
Aimee stared at him in shock for a moment before finding her voice, "Yeah. Sure, I'd love to!"
"Great!" he smiled at her.
This is unbelievable. I'm walking to class with Scott Hayes. Most
girls would kill for this.
Then she remembered the looks she'd gotten from Lauren and her friends.
Oh, yeah.
"I noticed those drawings in your locker," Scott said.
Great. Play it cool.
Aimee shrugged, "I like drawing in my spare time. I'm experimenting with the Japanese style."
"They're really good. Were they all done freehand?"
"Yeah," she replied surprised.
He's actually interested in this stuff?
"You could probably get an animating job someday."
Wow, now there's a compliment.
"Thanks," Aimee said flattered.
All too soon, they had reached the classroom.
"And thanks for walking with me, Scott," Aimee said, "That was really nice of you."
He shrugged, "I just don't like seeing people picked on. We're all a lot happier without that crap." Aimee smiled and looked up. Misty was entering the room just as the bell was ringing. She slid into the desk next to Aimee's. She had seen who Aimee had been talking to and raised her eyebrows.
"What was that all about?" she whispered.
Aimee quickly pulled out a piece of paper and a pen a scribbled down what had occurred. She waited until Miss Taylor had her back to the class and quickly passed the note to her friend. Misty read it and rolled her eyes, then wrote something on it herself and passed it back to Aimee with her characteristic half-grin. Aimee casually took it and opened it carefully. There were three words on it:
Damsel in distress
Aimee looked back at her friend and smiled ruefully. She then turned back to the paper and wrote a second message on it.
He's really not as bad as most preps.
Misty read the note and looked mockingly hurt back at Aimee before passing her response.
I know that! He's one of the few decent ones. He's not a jerk, and
he tries to get along with everyone. If he were like most preps, I'd
be slapping you up the side of the head right now.
Aimee grinned back at her friend before turning to take actual notes for the class. They were currently studying Shakespeare's particular style of drama which managed to interest most of the students. Aimee wasn't sure if it was the subject or the fact that Scott Hayes was sitting right in front of her, but seventh hour seemed much shorter than usual that day. Soon, the bell rang, and everyone jumped up, eager to get out of school on a Friday.
I could at least try talking to him again.
Scott walked past her, headed towards the door.
"Good luck at the game tonight, Scott!" she called out cheerfully.
He stopped and smiled at her.
"Thanks!" he replied. "You'll be there tonight, won't you?"
Aimee cringed.
"Um, well, I'll try," she said lamely and turned back to her book bag.
"Well, see ya later, then," he replied.
"Bye," Aimee said falsely cheerful.
He walked out of the room and into the hall. Misty turned on her.
"Why can't you come?"
"I said I'd try," Aimee replied more harshly than she'd meant to.
"I highly doubt you'd want to miss his 'big game'," Misty fired back in a slightly mocking tone.
"Give it a rest, okay?" A plan was already forming in her head. "I'll be there, alright?"
Misty responded with her half-grin, "Alright, I'll see you there."
On the walk home, Aimee reviewed the plan in her mind. She would pay her 13-year-old brother, John, to watch the kids for the evening. She'd tell the others that she would be in her room doing homework, and that she wasn't to be disturbed.
It's really stupid that Mom won't just let John watch the kids
sometimes. He's certainly old enough and responsible enough. She's
too old fashioned. Guys are perfectly capable of taking care of
children.
If everything worked out properly, Aimee could stay for the whole game and still be home before her mother.
It's the end of the month, so Mom'll be finishing up paperwork
afterhours tonight. Last time she didn't get home 'til past 11 o'
clock.
The plan was flawless. All she had to was make it out of the house and back in without the younger kids knowing. Aimee strode down the street with a new spring to her step.
If things won't go your way, you have to make them go your way!
Nearly two hours later, Aimee crept out of her bedroom and tiptoed past the living room where Brian and David were watching cartoons. Cara was sitting in an armchair chattering away on the phone. John was in the kitchen doing his algebra homework and keeping an eye on the casserole Aimee had put in the oven. When Aimee had promised him fifteen dollars to do this for her, he had readily agreed. He had been saving his money for a new bike and was always ready to make more. On top of that, the two of them were unusually close for siblings. Aimee believed that came from having to deal with their parents' divorce, not to mention their fights over the past few years.
Their father was a workaholic lawyer. Their mother, a conservative stay-at-home mom, would quickly get frustrated when he would be late for dinner or miss family outings. Communication between the two grew strained as Kimberlyn Shaw began to nag her husband for not spending more time with the family. Her husband, Darren, got tired of listening to her nit picking and began to spend less and less time at home. Soon, he had a great deal more meetings, seminars, and away calls than usual. It did not take long for Mrs. Shaw to become suspicious. Soon, she was nagging him all the more when he actually showed up at the house. Finally, Mr. Shaw decided he could take it no longer and filed for divorce. As a lawyer, he managed to get his way with everything except for custody of the children. He kept their large, beautiful house in Farndale and managed to weasel his way out of paying much child support. Kim was forced to take the kids and leave. And she did so under her maiden name of Dawes. She moved to her hometown of Bradford and found a small, rather cramped, three bedroom house to rent.
Both John and Aimee were furious at the father for what he had done to their mother. It did not help in the slightest that a week after the divorce went through, a pretty twenty-six year-old girl named Sandy Evans moved in their father. They all secretly suspected that Mr. Shaw's extra meetings mysteriously had the same name. Kim Dawes had recovered somewhat by being around old friends from her childhood but still held a slight bitterness and was often stressed out trying to juggle family and work. Occasionally, this stress was taken out on Aimee. Though they loved each other, they did not always see eye-to- eye. Aimee shook herself from her reveries.
Alright. Here we go!
She crept into the entryway and carefully opened the door. It creaked loudly, and she stopped expecting the kids to come running any minute.
I don't have enough candy stowed away to bribe all three of them.
Someone's bound to slip and tell Mom anyway.
Fifteen seconds passed. No one had heard it. Aimee began to breathe again. She slipped out the door, her cell phone in her pocket, and began walking confidently back to the school.
Several minutes later, Aimee had reached the front gate and found Misty and three of their other friends waiting for her. By this time, the parking lot was completely full and people had begun to park on the grass. The Parents' Organization had set up a large pre-game barbeque for all the Bradford fans. Since none of them had eaten dinner yet, they got in line for the burgers. There was a long line of tables set up with the hamburgers, hotdogs, buns, and condiments. All the fans had formed a line on the right side, while the JV and Varsity players lined up on the left. Without meaning to, Aimee began listening to a conversation several people ahead of her. ".So, I told him that she was a loser, not worth his time. She's just a little animé freak! But you know Scott; he just can't stand it when we have a bit of fun with someone. He's just too nice."
It had only taken Aimee a few moments to recognize that voice: Lauren Travis: rat girl. Aimee began to clench her fists despite efforts to hold her temper.
"People like that just piss me off," she muttered to Misty who had heard the conversation as well. "They just assume that they're better than everyone else, and they're not!"
"Don't listen to them. They're a bunch of airheads," Misty murmured back. "They only do this because they aren't confident enough in themselves. They have to put down others to make themselves look better."
"Yeah? Well, it doesn't make it right. I know Scott's friends with them, but I can't understand how or why. You'd think he couldn't stand people who act like that."
"Perhaps he looks past their faults," said a male voice behind her.
Aimee whirled around to see none other than Scott Hayes in the players' line.
"S-Scott," she stammered in shock.
His face broke into a wide grin, "Don't worry, I get that reaction a lot."
Aimee smiled wanly back, "You're a much better person than the rest of us, then."
He shrugged, "Not really. I just don't judge people. It's not worth my time. I've got plenty of better things to do."
"No kidding!" Misty piped in. (half-grin) "For as long as I've known you, you've been involved in way too many extra-curricular activities! I mean, you're in computer club and drama club on top of being on the Varsity soccer and baseball teams. Not to mention being the vice- president of the sophomore class. Oh yeah, and you started the Psych Club, too, didn't you?"
Scott grinned sheepishly, "Okay, so I'm an over-achiever. So what? At least I'm doing something constructive."
Misty smiled again, "Enough to make up for the rest of us!"
"Maybe it'll all come to something someday," he replied, shrugging a second time. "Enough about that, though. I'm glad you could make it, Aimee. You didn't seem so sure in class today."
"It turns out I was able to make it after all," she said with a confident smile.
"That's good," Scott replied with a smile. "It should be an intense game. The Ravens are really good this year."
"Yeah, I'm pretty excited. I haven't been to a soccer game in awhile."
Some of the other players were trying to get Scott's attention.
"Well, I've gotta go. I'll see you after the game!"
"Good luck!" Aimee called as Scott turned to talk to his friends.
Misty studied her friend carefully and raise her eyebrow, "I'd have to say: That went well."
Aimee half-grinned, "Yeah, I guess it did."
I didn't notice how much Misty's been rubbing off on me. She's not
really like Ashley, but it's nice to at least have someone here.
Ashley Parks was Aimee's best friend back in Farndale. Her father had been a prominent doctor and very good friends with Aimee's father. They had known each other for years, and their daughters had been raised together. The absolute worst thing about the divorce had been leaving Ashley.
**flashback**
Aimee stood in her bedroom in their large Farndale home. It was empty except for a few boxes of her belongings. Her soul felt as bare as the room. Everything she had ever known had been ripped away from her.
You're such a jerk, Dad. How could you do this to us? to Mom? to me?
You were supposed to be the one who understood me. I was always
Daddy's little girl, and now you're letting me...and everyone
else...go just for some Barbie doll secretary! Do you realize how
much pain you're causing by thinking with your balls? You're making
me leave my school, my home, my friends... You're making me leave
Ashley!
Someone grabbed her hand. Aimee turned to see her best friend, and she burst into tears. Ashley embraced her in a great big hug and cried with her.
The two girls spent the afternoon laughing and mostly crying together as they went through Aimee's boxes and remembered all the sleepovers and school projects they'd been through in that room. They spent hours pouring over each other's animé drawings. They had both started watching various Japanese cartoons three years before when Aimee's parents had begun fighting enough for it to really bother her.
She's always been there for me. Back when all the problems started,
she'd have me over as much as possible so I could get away from it.
She helped me explain it to the kids when Mom and Dad yelled at each
other all the time. She's really been my saving grace. She's given
me more support than anyone else. My God, I'm going to miss her.
**end flashback**
Aimee turned her attention back to the moment. There really wasn't a reason to be thinking about Ashley right now. It would only depress her. Right now, she needed to focus on being happy with the situation she was in. It was going to be a great game.
It was the second period of the Varsity game. Bradford was ahead by two points, and they'd won the JV game 3-0. Aimee and Misty had been sitting in the students section which, as this was the biggest soccer game of the season, was very full.
"I'm getting' thirsty," Misty said, "Do you wanna go get a pop or something?"
"Sure," Aimee replied, "we can't get behind by much now!"
The two girls headed carefully down bleachers toward the concession stands.
Misty took one look at the long lines and said, "It's gonna be awhile."
"Well, we've got time. We can wait."
Suddenly, someone returning from the concession stands bumped into Aimee and, rudely, kept walking without saying at thing.
"Excuse you!" Aimee said indignantly.
The person spun around, flipping long blonde hair, to counter her. It was Sharon.
"Hey! You're supposed to be at home!"
Aimee clenched her fists in rage and replied, "And you're supposed to be a soccer manager!"
Sharon glanced nervously around, "Well, I asked first to come, so you're the one who's supposed to watch the kids tonight."
"You're so selfish, Sharon! Why don't you ever think about anyone else?"
"Well, I'm thinking about you right now! Daddy called just before I left. He said they've never had an easier time finishing up monthly paperwork. He said everyone should be home by 9:30 at the latest. You're gonna be in deep trouble!"
Sharon spun back around and stalked off with her friends.
Aimee looked at her watch: 9:25. Her face turned ashen.
"Crap!" she whispered to herself then turned to Misty and said, "I've gotta go, now. I'll see you Monday!"
"What about Scott? He said he'd see you after the game?"
"Cover for me, okay?" Aimee pleaded
"Alright," Misty sighed, "See you Monday."
Within a few minutes, Aimee was off the school grounds and sprinting home.
Please, don't let Mom be home yet!
Aimee turned the corner on to her street only to find her mother's car pulling into the driveway.
"No!" she gasped.
Maybe I can slip in and she won't notice me.
Aimee ducked into the bushes and watched as her mother walked up the sidewalk to the house, pulled out her key, unlocked the door, and walked inside. Quietly, Aimee slipped over to the door and watched through the window as her mother walked into the kitchen to answer the phone.
Now's my chance!
As carefully as possible, Aimee opened the door and began to walk inside. Suddenly, she heard her mother yell, "She what?!' Kim Dawes stormed angrily into the entryway to find her daughter standing in the doorway cringing.
I am so dead!
"Hi, Mom," Aimee muttered guiltily.
"Go to your room this instant," her mother replied, her jaw clenched, "No TV. No computer. No phone. You're grounded for a month."
"Yes, ma'am," she said quietly as she headed off to her room.
A/N: Okay, so it's a little weird right now. But I have plans for actual animé stuff to come into play pretty soon. Read and review. Coming soon (hopefully): Chapter Two: The Secret Room