TITLE: "Mystery Valentine
AUTHOR: Dream Catcher
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SAILOR MOON!!! (Darn it) But I do own this story. (Woohoo!)
A.N.: I have this whole story planned out (maybe not the small details, but I have what's important planned). So, have no fear, I won't cancel this one like I did "Matchmaker Lane." This chapter is shorter than chapter one, but it took a while to get out because I wanted to finish chapter three first (I'm going to try and stay a chapter ahead of my posting. Sometimes I jump the gun, though).
SPECIAL THANKS: To all my reviewers: I love you guys (sniffle); To Kris (fellow fanfiction.net writer and fellow wildcat): Thanks bunches for you opinions of this story before I decided to post it.
Quote: A friend is not the person bailing you out of jail, but the person sitting beside you in your cell, telling you, 'that was awesome.'" A random friend of mine told me this. I have no idea where she heard it from.
CHAPTER TWO...
It snowed.
I woke Tuesday morning to find the ground covered in the white powder. I'd like to say that the first thing that came to my mind was the beauty of the scene outside my window, the rising sun creating rainbows on the pale surface. But in all actuality, the first thing that came to my mind was: No school!
As much as I hated it, though, I dragged my ass out of bed to flip the TV on to the local news station, just to make sure school was out. When I saw what I wanted to see, I switched the television off and joined my stuffed bunny in the warm sanctuary my down-filled comforter had created.
About four hours later, I awoke to the knowledge that I had a whole day of freedom but no idea of what to do with it. Sluggishly, I wandered downstairs and into the kitchen, where my mother already had a breakfast ready.
I watched as she hummed happily and danced to the eighties sound coming from the radio we kept on the counter. She was wearing one of the dresses she had made, that was terrible behind the times. Her hair was pulled back, but a few strands had managed to escape the bun as she rushed around the kitchen, retrieving things from cabinets and the refrigerator. She looked every part of a house wife.
And that's just what she was: a house wife. It had come as a shock to me when I found out Mom had gone to law school when she was younger. But instead of continuing her education at Columbia Law, she dropped out when she married my father. There's no doubt in my mind that Mom could have been a great lawyer, but I can't picture her as one.
For as long as I can remember, she has always been there to take me to girl scout meetings, chaperone any fieldtrips I had partaken on, and she had been head of the PTA when I was in elementary school. And then when she had my little brother Sammy, she focused her attention on him.
"Isn't it great?" Mom sang in a sing-song voice when she noticed my presence. "You and Sammy get to stay out of school."
This of course translates to: "Isn't it great that you get to help me around the house today?"
I nodded my head as I began to set the table for three. I knew Dad was at work even though it had snowed. He never allowed snow to stop him from getting to his job. Dad was a photographer for the local newspaper, and he just about lived for his camera. At every birthday party, every award ceremony, and every major event in our lives, he and his camera were present. His camera was, as they put it, "an extension to his body."
"Good morning, Mother."
I groaned when I heard the annoying voice of my little brother Sammy. He has got to be one of the most irritating eleven-year-olds on the planet. I watched as the little faker walked up to Mom and hugged her. I knew what his intentions were: He wanted to get out of housework. Why couldn't the brat stay in bed?
"What? No good morning for me?" I asked sarcastically.
"I already know you're not going to have a good morning." He sneered, confirming my suspicions that he was trying to push all the work onto me.
"You're right. I'm not having a good morning. I saw you, and suddenly, I don't have an apatite."
"That's enough you two. Sammy, like it or not you are helping." His shoulder's slumped, and I smiled. But Mom wasn't finished, "And, Serena, your apatite is just fine. I expect your plate to be clean."
I hope she didn't expect to hear any complaints from me because, had she been, she had set herself up for disappointment. I lived for food and it's many tantalizing aromas. But I bowed my head anyway and silently began eating; I was not about to give her reason to punish me.
After breakfast, I washed the dishes, swept the kitchen floor, did the laundry, and cleaned my room. Three hours later, I flopped down on my newly-made bad and stared at the ceiling. With my chores finally complete, I was free to think about my secret admirer.
Now that the reality of actually having an admirer had sunk in, I was finally able to accept that Darien was not the one who left the note in my locker. Yesterday I had been too caught up imagining Darien confessing he left the letter, that the possibility of it being someone else, had not concerned me too much. But now I was faced with the knowledge it had not been Darien but someone else's pen that had wrote the words.
But I hadn't been so spacey yesterday that the idea hadn't completely occurred to me. I knew I would give whoever it was a chance, but I also knew it would be unfair to whoever the guy was if I was infatuated with another guy.
I was confused as hell.
Rolling over onto my side to stare out my widow, I began to think about other possible candidates. None came to mind. At least, none that I thought would know enough about me and my childish fantasy.
As much as I dreamed of this actually happening, I never pictured it being so dammed confusing. My mind was a jumble of thoughts, feelings, and questions. Who was my mystery guy? What will I do when I find out who he is? Do I know him? How did they get the gum inside a Blow Pop?
When the phone rang, I ignored it. But when My mom yelled from downstairs that it was for me, I languidly reached and arm out to pick it up off my nightstand.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Why didn't you tell me!" came the clearly distressed voice of Mina.
"Tell you what?" I asked perplexed.
"That you got a love letter in your locker! I had to find out from Raye! Did you hear me? I found out from Raye!"
"I heard you, Mina." Loud and clear, I added silently.
"Well, you still haven't explained why you didn't tell me!"
"I guess I forgot."
"You forgot." She said it in that slow, casual way that stated she didn't believe me one second.
"Yeah, so what's your point?"
"Never mind. So what did the letter say?"
I smiled and read her the letter. I couldn't stop the giggle that escaped when I had finished reading the note; I was way too happy to care. I began to picture myself as one of the main characters of one of those cheesy movies, the ones that were made in the sixties and are so naïve and childish, yet you can't help but sigh at the end. I was Cinderella in Roger's and Hammerstein's: Cinderella, totally fake, but truly romantic.
Mina sighed with me. "When you find out who this guy is, can you get him to teach Andrew a thing or to about being romantic?"
I'm a little confused at this point. I always knew Mina had her eye on Andrew...and just about every guy on the wrestling team, the football team, and the track team. But since when has she had her eyes targeted on just Andrew?
"Andrew?" I asked.
"What, didn't I tell you? Andrew asked me to the Valentine's dance."
"Why in the world did you not tell me this before?"
"I must have forgotten."
I could tell she was smiling, and it irked me the way she had used my own words against me. Come to think of it, my words always seem to find a way to come back and bite me in the ass.
I groaned aloud so Mina could hear my annoyance, but my frustration was fleeting.
"So, Mina, I want details!"
I was always the one asking for details. I claimed it was because I had no love life; therefore, I had to butt into someone else's. But in actuality, it was because I was just as much a gossip freak as Mina and Lita; I was just a little less forthcoming.
"Well," Mina hedged, knowing I was sitting on the edge of my seat. "Yesterday, I stayed after school for volleyball conditioning, and when it was over, guess who was waiting for me by my car?"
"Keanu Reeves?" I asked sarcastically.
"No, but I wish. Woo! What a hottie!" I imagined Mina fanning herself lightly with one hand and laughed.
Once our laughter had died, I said seriously, "So what did Andrew do when you got to your car?"
"How'd you know it was Andrew?"
Instead of trying to explain it to my friend, also know as the blond headed ditz, I said sardonically, "I'm psychic."
"Really?" she exclaimed, "I thought I was the only one. I mean, I'm always finishing other people's-"
"Mina!"
She stopped her babbling. "What?"
"I was kidding."
"Oh, well, so was I."
"Anyway, tell me about-"
"Hey! Can you hold on a sec? Someone's on the other line."
I said sure and waited while she put me on hold. I busied my self by watching Sammy and the neighborhood kids duke it out in a snowball fight. I watched as Bobby Sims, the mama's boy from up the street, sent a snowball sailing into the air and right into Sammy's smug face. I smiled, maybe I'd join the fray later. After all, I thought with a frown as I stared at the patches of grass that were beginning to show around the yard, the snow wasn't going to last much longer.
The white powdery snow I had woken up to early this morning, was now white slush, puddles of translucent mud. The snowman sitting in our backyard, that I can only assume Sammy made, was quickly losing a head as the noon sun continuously beat down upon it. Every once and a while, one of the ice sickles that had been reverently clinging to our roof, like tiny stalactites, fell; and I 'd watch it descend and shatter into tiny crystal shards.
I jumped when I heard Mina's voice. "Hey, that was Andrew on the other line: so, I'll have call you back."
"OK, see you tomorrow."
We hung up, and I decided it wouldn't hurt to throw a snowball or two before it all melted. It wasn't often that it snowed this much in our area, and I wasn't about to let such a rare occasion be wasted by staying indoors.
So after putting on my coat, hat, gloves, and boots; I joined the snowball war. Naturally, I was on the team opposite my brother. And like always, my team won. When the fight was over, Sammy and I went inside. Sammy, the sore loser that he was, pouted the rest of the day. I guess it wouldn't have been so bad to him if he hadn't been beaten by a girl- his sister, nonetheless.
I shrugged out of my winter gear, and followed my nose into the kitchen, where lunch was being prepared. My mouth watered when I saw the hamburgers, but my saliva accumulation tripled when I opened the oven and found the cookies that were still baking. Leave it to Mom to know how to make a snow day even better.
Later, I climbed the stairs to my room, cookie in hand. When I got to my room, I retrieved the love note I had found in my locker off my nightstand and began to read it once again. I still found it hard to believe that someone would actually write me a love note and slip it into my locker. And to top it off, the person composed some music and placed it with the note!
The sheet music! I had almost forgotten about it!
I grabbed the music and rushed downstairs to the piano. After completing a few scales to warm up, I began to play the music composed by my admirer. The music was hauntingly slow and beautiful. It was full of emotion that seemed to come from deep within the soul. The crescendos and decrescendos only added to the magical sound that poured from my fingers. It made my heart pound and press against my ribcage. But as soon as the enchantment began, it came to a sudden stop.
I stared at the end of the page and realized forlornly that my admirer had only given me the first page of his piece. I was left hanging, wondering what was to come. It was like a two-part episode of my favorite television show; it ended right where I didn't want it to.
But I continued to play it over and over, driving my brother insane. My mother, on the other hand, was curious to where I had acquired such "as lovely piece of music." I didn't tell her, though, partly because I knew she would bug the hell out of me for details, but mainly because I was selfish and wanted to keep it, the letter, and secret admirer to myself. But then again, the girls knew about everything. Then I thought about it some more and decided it was still my secret because they hadn't heard the soothing notes.
Eventually my father got home and wanted to watch the evening news; so, I had to go to my room. But I decided to make the best out of my entrapment and signed onto the internet. I visited a few of my favorite sites, but after an hour without not one of my friends getting on, I decided to get off. But then a screen popped up and asked if I wanted to accept and instant message from TUXNROSES.
I had no idea who this person was, but there was always the chance one of my friends changed their screen name. So, I clicked accept and watched as TUXNROSES's message appeared.
TUXNROSES: Did you get my letter?
My stomach jumped into my throat, and my heart began to beat wildly. Was this one of my friends playing a joke on me? No, they wouldn't do this. How did this guy know my screen name? What do I say?
With unsteady hands I replied:
JUNEBUNNY30: Yes. The music was beautiful, but where's the rest?
I waited impatiently for his reply, but my wait wasn't long.
TUXNROSES: Waiting for me to give it to you.
I had no idea how to reply to that, so I just typed the one question that I really wanted to know.
JUNEBUNNY30: Who are you?
The answer I got was not the one I wanted; if fact, it wasn't even an answer.
TUXNROSES: Your secret admirer. I must go now.
I tried to send a message to him before he got off, but he was no longer signed on. Determined to find out who TUXNROSES was, I checked his profile, but there wasn't one. Crestfallen, I signed off.
Later that night, I lay in bed, the internet conversation on my mind. The same questions and thoughts that had occupied my focus yesterday afternoon, were now a boiling soup in my mind, burning and swimming. I kept imagining what I would do once I found out who it was. Would I be happy or disappointed? Would I smile a genuine smile or a polite one? Would it be Darien?
No, it wouldn't be Darien. He's everything I'm not. I rolled over and buried my head into my pillow, imagining what I would do when I found out it wasn't Darien. I, of course, imagined myself being polite and sincere, but I knew that I'd never be capable of masking the disappointment I knew I'd feel with a smile. I was too transparent with my feelings.
Whenever I was feeling down, everyone knew. Whenever I was happy, everyone knew. Then I began to wonder if I was also transparent when I had a crush, like the one I have on Darien. What if someone knew about my crush and decided to play some sick joke on me so I would think it was Darien? No, if I'd been that obvious, one of my friends would have told me...right?
My thoughts traveled down roads never traveled, and I began to wonder if I'd ever get some sleep with the way my mind kept running, and running, and running, like the Energizer Bunny. I began to wonder if Sammy was up. I knew he'd be willing to give me a few hits on the head to knock me out.
Finally, determined to get at least two hours of sleep, I tried to shut off my thoughts and begin focusing on my breathing. When that didn't work, I counted sheep. Around number 4,672, I fell asleep.
TO BE CONTINUED...
A.N: Well, I hoped you liked it. I know it's short, but you have the next, longer chapter to look forward to. Now I have to start on chapter four.
AUTHOR: Dream Catcher
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SAILOR MOON!!! (Darn it) But I do own this story. (Woohoo!)
A.N.: I have this whole story planned out (maybe not the small details, but I have what's important planned). So, have no fear, I won't cancel this one like I did "Matchmaker Lane." This chapter is shorter than chapter one, but it took a while to get out because I wanted to finish chapter three first (I'm going to try and stay a chapter ahead of my posting. Sometimes I jump the gun, though).
SPECIAL THANKS: To all my reviewers: I love you guys (sniffle); To Kris (fellow fanfiction.net writer and fellow wildcat): Thanks bunches for you opinions of this story before I decided to post it.
Quote: A friend is not the person bailing you out of jail, but the person sitting beside you in your cell, telling you, 'that was awesome.'" A random friend of mine told me this. I have no idea where she heard it from.
CHAPTER TWO...
It snowed.
I woke Tuesday morning to find the ground covered in the white powder. I'd like to say that the first thing that came to my mind was the beauty of the scene outside my window, the rising sun creating rainbows on the pale surface. But in all actuality, the first thing that came to my mind was: No school!
As much as I hated it, though, I dragged my ass out of bed to flip the TV on to the local news station, just to make sure school was out. When I saw what I wanted to see, I switched the television off and joined my stuffed bunny in the warm sanctuary my down-filled comforter had created.
About four hours later, I awoke to the knowledge that I had a whole day of freedom but no idea of what to do with it. Sluggishly, I wandered downstairs and into the kitchen, where my mother already had a breakfast ready.
I watched as she hummed happily and danced to the eighties sound coming from the radio we kept on the counter. She was wearing one of the dresses she had made, that was terrible behind the times. Her hair was pulled back, but a few strands had managed to escape the bun as she rushed around the kitchen, retrieving things from cabinets and the refrigerator. She looked every part of a house wife.
And that's just what she was: a house wife. It had come as a shock to me when I found out Mom had gone to law school when she was younger. But instead of continuing her education at Columbia Law, she dropped out when she married my father. There's no doubt in my mind that Mom could have been a great lawyer, but I can't picture her as one.
For as long as I can remember, she has always been there to take me to girl scout meetings, chaperone any fieldtrips I had partaken on, and she had been head of the PTA when I was in elementary school. And then when she had my little brother Sammy, she focused her attention on him.
"Isn't it great?" Mom sang in a sing-song voice when she noticed my presence. "You and Sammy get to stay out of school."
This of course translates to: "Isn't it great that you get to help me around the house today?"
I nodded my head as I began to set the table for three. I knew Dad was at work even though it had snowed. He never allowed snow to stop him from getting to his job. Dad was a photographer for the local newspaper, and he just about lived for his camera. At every birthday party, every award ceremony, and every major event in our lives, he and his camera were present. His camera was, as they put it, "an extension to his body."
"Good morning, Mother."
I groaned when I heard the annoying voice of my little brother Sammy. He has got to be one of the most irritating eleven-year-olds on the planet. I watched as the little faker walked up to Mom and hugged her. I knew what his intentions were: He wanted to get out of housework. Why couldn't the brat stay in bed?
"What? No good morning for me?" I asked sarcastically.
"I already know you're not going to have a good morning." He sneered, confirming my suspicions that he was trying to push all the work onto me.
"You're right. I'm not having a good morning. I saw you, and suddenly, I don't have an apatite."
"That's enough you two. Sammy, like it or not you are helping." His shoulder's slumped, and I smiled. But Mom wasn't finished, "And, Serena, your apatite is just fine. I expect your plate to be clean."
I hope she didn't expect to hear any complaints from me because, had she been, she had set herself up for disappointment. I lived for food and it's many tantalizing aromas. But I bowed my head anyway and silently began eating; I was not about to give her reason to punish me.
After breakfast, I washed the dishes, swept the kitchen floor, did the laundry, and cleaned my room. Three hours later, I flopped down on my newly-made bad and stared at the ceiling. With my chores finally complete, I was free to think about my secret admirer.
Now that the reality of actually having an admirer had sunk in, I was finally able to accept that Darien was not the one who left the note in my locker. Yesterday I had been too caught up imagining Darien confessing he left the letter, that the possibility of it being someone else, had not concerned me too much. But now I was faced with the knowledge it had not been Darien but someone else's pen that had wrote the words.
But I hadn't been so spacey yesterday that the idea hadn't completely occurred to me. I knew I would give whoever it was a chance, but I also knew it would be unfair to whoever the guy was if I was infatuated with another guy.
I was confused as hell.
Rolling over onto my side to stare out my widow, I began to think about other possible candidates. None came to mind. At least, none that I thought would know enough about me and my childish fantasy.
As much as I dreamed of this actually happening, I never pictured it being so dammed confusing. My mind was a jumble of thoughts, feelings, and questions. Who was my mystery guy? What will I do when I find out who he is? Do I know him? How did they get the gum inside a Blow Pop?
When the phone rang, I ignored it. But when My mom yelled from downstairs that it was for me, I languidly reached and arm out to pick it up off my nightstand.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Why didn't you tell me!" came the clearly distressed voice of Mina.
"Tell you what?" I asked perplexed.
"That you got a love letter in your locker! I had to find out from Raye! Did you hear me? I found out from Raye!"
"I heard you, Mina." Loud and clear, I added silently.
"Well, you still haven't explained why you didn't tell me!"
"I guess I forgot."
"You forgot." She said it in that slow, casual way that stated she didn't believe me one second.
"Yeah, so what's your point?"
"Never mind. So what did the letter say?"
I smiled and read her the letter. I couldn't stop the giggle that escaped when I had finished reading the note; I was way too happy to care. I began to picture myself as one of the main characters of one of those cheesy movies, the ones that were made in the sixties and are so naïve and childish, yet you can't help but sigh at the end. I was Cinderella in Roger's and Hammerstein's: Cinderella, totally fake, but truly romantic.
Mina sighed with me. "When you find out who this guy is, can you get him to teach Andrew a thing or to about being romantic?"
I'm a little confused at this point. I always knew Mina had her eye on Andrew...and just about every guy on the wrestling team, the football team, and the track team. But since when has she had her eyes targeted on just Andrew?
"Andrew?" I asked.
"What, didn't I tell you? Andrew asked me to the Valentine's dance."
"Why in the world did you not tell me this before?"
"I must have forgotten."
I could tell she was smiling, and it irked me the way she had used my own words against me. Come to think of it, my words always seem to find a way to come back and bite me in the ass.
I groaned aloud so Mina could hear my annoyance, but my frustration was fleeting.
"So, Mina, I want details!"
I was always the one asking for details. I claimed it was because I had no love life; therefore, I had to butt into someone else's. But in actuality, it was because I was just as much a gossip freak as Mina and Lita; I was just a little less forthcoming.
"Well," Mina hedged, knowing I was sitting on the edge of my seat. "Yesterday, I stayed after school for volleyball conditioning, and when it was over, guess who was waiting for me by my car?"
"Keanu Reeves?" I asked sarcastically.
"No, but I wish. Woo! What a hottie!" I imagined Mina fanning herself lightly with one hand and laughed.
Once our laughter had died, I said seriously, "So what did Andrew do when you got to your car?"
"How'd you know it was Andrew?"
Instead of trying to explain it to my friend, also know as the blond headed ditz, I said sardonically, "I'm psychic."
"Really?" she exclaimed, "I thought I was the only one. I mean, I'm always finishing other people's-"
"Mina!"
She stopped her babbling. "What?"
"I was kidding."
"Oh, well, so was I."
"Anyway, tell me about-"
"Hey! Can you hold on a sec? Someone's on the other line."
I said sure and waited while she put me on hold. I busied my self by watching Sammy and the neighborhood kids duke it out in a snowball fight. I watched as Bobby Sims, the mama's boy from up the street, sent a snowball sailing into the air and right into Sammy's smug face. I smiled, maybe I'd join the fray later. After all, I thought with a frown as I stared at the patches of grass that were beginning to show around the yard, the snow wasn't going to last much longer.
The white powdery snow I had woken up to early this morning, was now white slush, puddles of translucent mud. The snowman sitting in our backyard, that I can only assume Sammy made, was quickly losing a head as the noon sun continuously beat down upon it. Every once and a while, one of the ice sickles that had been reverently clinging to our roof, like tiny stalactites, fell; and I 'd watch it descend and shatter into tiny crystal shards.
I jumped when I heard Mina's voice. "Hey, that was Andrew on the other line: so, I'll have call you back."
"OK, see you tomorrow."
We hung up, and I decided it wouldn't hurt to throw a snowball or two before it all melted. It wasn't often that it snowed this much in our area, and I wasn't about to let such a rare occasion be wasted by staying indoors.
So after putting on my coat, hat, gloves, and boots; I joined the snowball war. Naturally, I was on the team opposite my brother. And like always, my team won. When the fight was over, Sammy and I went inside. Sammy, the sore loser that he was, pouted the rest of the day. I guess it wouldn't have been so bad to him if he hadn't been beaten by a girl- his sister, nonetheless.
I shrugged out of my winter gear, and followed my nose into the kitchen, where lunch was being prepared. My mouth watered when I saw the hamburgers, but my saliva accumulation tripled when I opened the oven and found the cookies that were still baking. Leave it to Mom to know how to make a snow day even better.
Later, I climbed the stairs to my room, cookie in hand. When I got to my room, I retrieved the love note I had found in my locker off my nightstand and began to read it once again. I still found it hard to believe that someone would actually write me a love note and slip it into my locker. And to top it off, the person composed some music and placed it with the note!
The sheet music! I had almost forgotten about it!
I grabbed the music and rushed downstairs to the piano. After completing a few scales to warm up, I began to play the music composed by my admirer. The music was hauntingly slow and beautiful. It was full of emotion that seemed to come from deep within the soul. The crescendos and decrescendos only added to the magical sound that poured from my fingers. It made my heart pound and press against my ribcage. But as soon as the enchantment began, it came to a sudden stop.
I stared at the end of the page and realized forlornly that my admirer had only given me the first page of his piece. I was left hanging, wondering what was to come. It was like a two-part episode of my favorite television show; it ended right where I didn't want it to.
But I continued to play it over and over, driving my brother insane. My mother, on the other hand, was curious to where I had acquired such "as lovely piece of music." I didn't tell her, though, partly because I knew she would bug the hell out of me for details, but mainly because I was selfish and wanted to keep it, the letter, and secret admirer to myself. But then again, the girls knew about everything. Then I thought about it some more and decided it was still my secret because they hadn't heard the soothing notes.
Eventually my father got home and wanted to watch the evening news; so, I had to go to my room. But I decided to make the best out of my entrapment and signed onto the internet. I visited a few of my favorite sites, but after an hour without not one of my friends getting on, I decided to get off. But then a screen popped up and asked if I wanted to accept and instant message from TUXNROSES.
I had no idea who this person was, but there was always the chance one of my friends changed their screen name. So, I clicked accept and watched as TUXNROSES's message appeared.
TUXNROSES: Did you get my letter?
My stomach jumped into my throat, and my heart began to beat wildly. Was this one of my friends playing a joke on me? No, they wouldn't do this. How did this guy know my screen name? What do I say?
With unsteady hands I replied:
JUNEBUNNY30: Yes. The music was beautiful, but where's the rest?
I waited impatiently for his reply, but my wait wasn't long.
TUXNROSES: Waiting for me to give it to you.
I had no idea how to reply to that, so I just typed the one question that I really wanted to know.
JUNEBUNNY30: Who are you?
The answer I got was not the one I wanted; if fact, it wasn't even an answer.
TUXNROSES: Your secret admirer. I must go now.
I tried to send a message to him before he got off, but he was no longer signed on. Determined to find out who TUXNROSES was, I checked his profile, but there wasn't one. Crestfallen, I signed off.
Later that night, I lay in bed, the internet conversation on my mind. The same questions and thoughts that had occupied my focus yesterday afternoon, were now a boiling soup in my mind, burning and swimming. I kept imagining what I would do once I found out who it was. Would I be happy or disappointed? Would I smile a genuine smile or a polite one? Would it be Darien?
No, it wouldn't be Darien. He's everything I'm not. I rolled over and buried my head into my pillow, imagining what I would do when I found out it wasn't Darien. I, of course, imagined myself being polite and sincere, but I knew that I'd never be capable of masking the disappointment I knew I'd feel with a smile. I was too transparent with my feelings.
Whenever I was feeling down, everyone knew. Whenever I was happy, everyone knew. Then I began to wonder if I was also transparent when I had a crush, like the one I have on Darien. What if someone knew about my crush and decided to play some sick joke on me so I would think it was Darien? No, if I'd been that obvious, one of my friends would have told me...right?
My thoughts traveled down roads never traveled, and I began to wonder if I'd ever get some sleep with the way my mind kept running, and running, and running, like the Energizer Bunny. I began to wonder if Sammy was up. I knew he'd be willing to give me a few hits on the head to knock me out.
Finally, determined to get at least two hours of sleep, I tried to shut off my thoughts and begin focusing on my breathing. When that didn't work, I counted sheep. Around number 4,672, I fell asleep.
TO BE CONTINUED...
A.N: Well, I hoped you liked it. I know it's short, but you have the next, longer chapter to look forward to. Now I have to start on chapter four.