Disclaimer: I still do not own anything Ann M. Martin owns.
***
Summary: Karen is now in eighth grade. Everything is rapidly changing around her...will she survive?
***
I sighed deeply. I'm in teenage angst mode as I sink into Ben Brewer's sheet-covered armchair. His old room has become another of my sanctuaries. It's quiet, peaceful, and there's nobody around to piss me off...at least, nobody alive. I had previously set up an old family dart board and placed a picture of Hannie on it, with her nose being the bullseye. Unfortunately, due to my horrendous aim I have only managed getting her left ear, right eye, and chin.
"You're that mad, huh?"
Startled by the voice, I looked behind me. David Michael.
"Don't do that, dammit!"
He backed away slowly, clearly mocking me.
"Whoa there, calm down."
I set the darts down at a nearby table while sticking my tongue out at him. Now that's killing two birds with one stone.
"Who says I'm mad anyway?"
"It's not everyday you use a best friend's picture for a game of darts and anger management."
"You mean ex-best friend."
"What did she do anyway?"
"Like it's any of your business."
Heh, wow, it was like we were seven again.
"C'mon Karen, you can tell me."
"If you must know, David Michael Thomas, she pulled a Benedict."
"Just because she's been hanging out with that Leslie chick..."
"Wait a sec, you knew?"
"Of course! They've been hanging out at least three times a week for almost two months now."
"Oh yay."
"What's so bad about her anyway? I think she's kinda hot."
"Pfft, you would."
"I sense some jealousy here," he grinned.
"What are you doing here anyway?"
"Can't I talk with my stepsister?"
"Not unless you want to be impaled with a dart."
I held up a dart for emphasis. He fake-gasped.
"Are you…threatening me?"
"Cut it out David Michael. As you can see," I pointed to the defaced picture of Hannie with devil horns and a mustache that would put Snidely Whiplash to shame, "I'm not in the mood for bullshit right now."
"Come on Karen. I understand that you have renewed your subscription to The Monthlies,"
Lethargy is a bitch when you want to kick your stepbrother's ass.
"But you can tell me stuff, huh?" He nudged my arm.
"If I tell you, will you go away?"
"Can't guarantee that."
"Quit being a smart-ass." I took a deep breath. This was all too pathetic.
"Hannie has went to the Dark Side, namely Pamela Harding's gaggle of mentally-deprived Barbie and Friends."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"What that means, dear stepbrother, is that she's abandoning Nancy, me, and everyone else for the Narcissists of America."
"She belongs with them, y'know?"
"No, she belongs with the Three Musketeers," I argued, barely believing it myself.
"C'mon, don't you remember that time in second grade when she kicked you out of her "wedding" because of your…um…problems concerning appeareances?"
I clenched my teeth. What a wonderful childhood memory to have brought back up to the surface of teenage adolescence.
"Just say it, David Michael."
After all; missing front teeth, dorky glasses, and that hideous haircut courtesy of Gloriana (I wonder whatever happened to her) barely qualified as attractive.
"I guess what I'm saying is is that, well, Hannie isn't worth it, Karen."
I felt my anger rising.
"Get out, David Michael! Out!"
I rose from the chair and made like the Big Bad Wolf. David Michael looked taken aback. I took a plate from the mantel and smashed it against the ground. I crushed the remaining pieces with my combat boots, feeling the glass crack under my weight.
***
I know, it's been reeeeeeeeaaaaaalllllly long, heh. I'll try to update the story more now that I have more time.
***
Summary: Karen is now in eighth grade. Everything is rapidly changing around her...will she survive?
***
I sighed deeply. I'm in teenage angst mode as I sink into Ben Brewer's sheet-covered armchair. His old room has become another of my sanctuaries. It's quiet, peaceful, and there's nobody around to piss me off...at least, nobody alive. I had previously set up an old family dart board and placed a picture of Hannie on it, with her nose being the bullseye. Unfortunately, due to my horrendous aim I have only managed getting her left ear, right eye, and chin.
"You're that mad, huh?"
Startled by the voice, I looked behind me. David Michael.
"Don't do that, dammit!"
He backed away slowly, clearly mocking me.
"Whoa there, calm down."
I set the darts down at a nearby table while sticking my tongue out at him. Now that's killing two birds with one stone.
"Who says I'm mad anyway?"
"It's not everyday you use a best friend's picture for a game of darts and anger management."
"You mean ex-best friend."
"What did she do anyway?"
"Like it's any of your business."
Heh, wow, it was like we were seven again.
"C'mon Karen, you can tell me."
"If you must know, David Michael Thomas, she pulled a Benedict."
"Just because she's been hanging out with that Leslie chick..."
"Wait a sec, you knew?"
"Of course! They've been hanging out at least three times a week for almost two months now."
"Oh yay."
"What's so bad about her anyway? I think she's kinda hot."
"Pfft, you would."
"I sense some jealousy here," he grinned.
"What are you doing here anyway?"
"Can't I talk with my stepsister?"
"Not unless you want to be impaled with a dart."
I held up a dart for emphasis. He fake-gasped.
"Are you…threatening me?"
"Cut it out David Michael. As you can see," I pointed to the defaced picture of Hannie with devil horns and a mustache that would put Snidely Whiplash to shame, "I'm not in the mood for bullshit right now."
"Come on Karen. I understand that you have renewed your subscription to The Monthlies,"
Lethargy is a bitch when you want to kick your stepbrother's ass.
"But you can tell me stuff, huh?" He nudged my arm.
"If I tell you, will you go away?"
"Can't guarantee that."
"Quit being a smart-ass." I took a deep breath. This was all too pathetic.
"Hannie has went to the Dark Side, namely Pamela Harding's gaggle of mentally-deprived Barbie and Friends."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"What that means, dear stepbrother, is that she's abandoning Nancy, me, and everyone else for the Narcissists of America."
"She belongs with them, y'know?"
"No, she belongs with the Three Musketeers," I argued, barely believing it myself.
"C'mon, don't you remember that time in second grade when she kicked you out of her "wedding" because of your…um…problems concerning appeareances?"
I clenched my teeth. What a wonderful childhood memory to have brought back up to the surface of teenage adolescence.
"Just say it, David Michael."
After all; missing front teeth, dorky glasses, and that hideous haircut courtesy of Gloriana (I wonder whatever happened to her) barely qualified as attractive.
"I guess what I'm saying is is that, well, Hannie isn't worth it, Karen."
I felt my anger rising.
"Get out, David Michael! Out!"
I rose from the chair and made like the Big Bad Wolf. David Michael looked taken aback. I took a plate from the mantel and smashed it against the ground. I crushed the remaining pieces with my combat boots, feeling the glass crack under my weight.
***
I know, it's been reeeeeeeeaaaaaalllllly long, heh. I'll try to update the story more now that I have more time.