* * * * * * * * * * {~} * * * * * * * * * *
Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews, guys! I really enjoyed reading them. You're wonderful! I just love you all! Oh… and I'm extremely glad that everyone understands where I'm taking this. To make it easier to understand for the rest of the story, the two realities are going to be titled simply either "Lizzie" or "Beth". Savvy? Good. Now, on with the story!
And remember, the 'Lizzie' reality takes place one minute before the 'Beth' reality.
I have *no* idea what the teacher's names' are, so just bear with me. I'm making them up.
* * * * * * * * * * {~} * * * * * * * * *
= = = = = = March, 2001 = = = = = = =
= = = * * = = = Lizzie = = = * * = = = =
"Okay, this is what I think," Lizzie said ecstatically to her friends' Gordo and Miranda, "Ethan Craft comes through this door, and I drop my pencil…"
"… Accidentally on purpose," Miranda added. Gordo rolled his eyes, and hid a sarcastic laugh beneath an encouraging smile. Miranda glared at him, and pursed her lips. Her eyes expressed annoyance as she waited eagerly for Lizzie to continue.
Lizzie nodded, oblivious. "Then, he picks it up for me, and I thank him expressively."
"Expressively is good," said Miranda, nodding her head amenably.
Gordo mumbled, "Dramatically is more like it…"
"Then," Lizzie grinned brightly and flailed her arms excitedly, "I ask him to the Sadie Hawkins dance!"
"He's bound to go with you, Liz! The plan's flawless!" Miranda praised. Gordo just sighed.
Lizzie peered at him. "Gordo? Do you think it'll work?"
"Yeah, of course it will. It's just…" Gordo trailed off, feeling sick to his stomach. The nausea swirled in his head and stomach. He buckled over, grabbing his abdomen. Lizzie moved closer to him, looking like she wanted to comfort him, but Miranda held her back. "Er… guys, I have to go. I don't feel too hot." With a little groan, he ran to the boy's bathroom as fast as his legs could carry him. The two girls looked at each other, each expressing the same look in their face: pity.
Feeling sick just thinking about Gordo and his predicament, Lizzie turned to the door behind her and frowned. "I-I'm going to go to class… are you coming?"
Miranda shrugged and leaned casually on a locker. "I'll wait here." She watched as Lizzie proceeded into the classroom. She waited in the same part of the hall; occasionally checking her nails and watching the large clock continue its perpetual shift.
Soon, it was two minutes until class began. Miranda knew Gordo would never be late to class.
She sighed, and tapped her foot on the linoleum floor. Her high-heeled leather boots produced an undying echo each time it hit the ground. "Gordo, just come out."
She heard a little intake of breath, and some frenzied scrambling.
"How'd you know I was there?" Gordo asked frantically, coming out from behind a door. Miranda chuckled.
"Women's intuition."
"Oh," said Gordo, looking skeptical. Miranda waved her hand dismissively.
"But that's not the point, Gordo. I was doing some thinking, and…"
Gordo interrupted, clearing his throat. "Miranda, class…" His voice was raised an octave from tension.
"And," Miranda continued, frowning, "Isn't it funny that jealousy and nausea go hand-in-hand?"
"Miranda…"
"Gordo! You are so obviously jealous of Ethan Craft; it's not even funny! But, lucky for you, Lizzie's unaware of your desires…"
Gordo gaped. "Miranda! Are you accusing me of – of liking Lizzie?" His face became contorted; scrunched and etched with worry. His eyes were shifting from Miranda's face to the hall, which was empty, except for Kate and her perfunctory posse. But they were out of earshot.
"Save it, David. You were never good at lying." Miranda leaned coolly on the green-tinted locker, and pursed her heavily glossed lips. "Just talk to her." Her expression softened considerably as she spoke, her words full of unexpressed pride and devotion. Gordo chewed his lip absentmindedly as he listened to his friend's words. He was silent, however, as he considered his options.
Miranda quickly glimpsed the clock, gave a thwarted sigh, and motioned for Gordo to follow her to class. He trailed reluctantly, feeling the nausea creep stealthily back into the pit of his stomach. His mellow blue orbs searched the hallway instinctively, casting and reeling in shattered images of Miranda, the walls, and suddenly… too quickly, the classroom. As if in a daze, Gordo shuffled to his seat. From across the room, Lizzie widened her eyes, inaudibly asking if he was all right, and all he could do was nod his head pathetically. Then, through the swirling mist of his mind, Gordo heard a blunt clap. He blinked his eyes, and squinted his eyes at the teacher, Mrs. Simon.
"Okay!" She clapped her hands again and smiled brightly. Gordo rolled his eyes into the back of his head, and looked back at her quickly. She always treated the class like they were seven-years-old. "Attention, class!"
Gordo, usually so keen to listen to the teachers, just leaned back in his seat. He was tempted to place his feet on the desk. At the front of the room, Mrs. Simon was oblivious to the obvious displeasure that rippled through the room as quickly as an unruly wildfire. "I have decided that we have learnt enough about the Pythagorean theorem, and so, that means… POP QUIZ! Take out your pencils, class." Groans erupted from the students. But, as if in a trance, they reached down into the notebooks and pried out their writing utensils. Gordo twirled the pencil in his fingers, glaring inwardly at Mrs. Simon.
Of all the days for a pop quiz, it just had to be today.
= = = = = = March, 2001 = = = = = = =
= = = * * = = = Beth = = = * * = = = =
Beth sighed, and leaned against her locker. "If I told you once, I've told you a thousand times. Kate, purple isn't your color. It's mine." She smirked. "It brings out my eyes."
Kate just shrugged, and sheepishly wrapped her jean coat around herself, hiding her purple top. Beth nodded.
"Better. Claire?" Another girl peered at her questioningly.
"What?" she asked.
"What time is it?"
"Four minutes until class starts, Beth."
Beth grinned. "Great. Now," She paused dramatically, indicating the other girls to lean closer. "Remember. Next week is the Sadie Hawkins dance." There was a murmur of excited whispers. "Ask anyone you can get your paws on, but I get Ethan." Beth smiled leisurely. Behind her back, Kate frowned and crossed her arms.
"We can start rounding up the guys during lunch," Beth added, looking smug; "We can get anyone, being the prettiest and most popular girls in school." She sighed. "I actually feel sorry for the losers that attend Hillridge." She looked thoughtful. "Actually, I don't." She laughed heartily, a brazen smile playing across her lips.
Beth and her friends started off down the hall, chattering in loud, careless voices. Soon, only Kate, Claire, and Beth were left, standing outside the door to their classroom. A group of people tried to walk past them, but Beth stepped in front of the group disdainfully and crossed her arms.
"Why don't you wait for us, losers?" she asked, narrowing her eyes, "Everyone knows we're more important anyway." Kate and Claire nodded mindlessly. The person in front, an olive-skinned, dark-haired girl, clenched her fists.
"Listen Beth," she spat sarcastically, "We just want to go to class. I'm not in the mood for licking your shoes."
"Um… excuse me… what's your name?"
"Miranda," the girl told her sternly.
"Ah. Well, Miranda, you see, this school is based on order of hierarchy, and you are right at the bottom, whilst I am at the top." Beth smiled sincerely and mockingly put a hand to her lips. "Unless, of course, you underdogs wish to move up in rank. Which, fortunately, will never happen."
Miranda just glared. "You're a witch, Beth."
"And you're a bitch." Kate and Claire smirked.
From the back of her throat, Miranda made a small sound that resembled a growl. She began to move forward menacingly, but before she could walk more than two steps, a hand was placed on her arm. Miranda whirled around.
"Stay out of this, David!" she hissed. The boy shook his head.
"Miranda, class starts in two minutes. Do you really want to make everyone late?" David explained reasonably.
She gritted her teeth, but sighed in defeat. "Fine…"
David began to walk through the door to the classroom, but Beth put out an arm, blocking his course.
"Why didn't you let her fight me, Gordon?" Beth asked, now seething mad. David fixed his gaze on her. He didn't even flinch.
"Let me through, Beth," he said calmly. Beth stood stalk-still, her forehead creasing in anger. Suddenly, her hand began to waver.
"I can't let you," she hissed. David stared into her icy-blue eyes.
"Let me pass, McGuire." Beth felt like she was stabbed in the heart. She cringed, and her hand dropped to her side. The group passed into the classroom, clapping a stony David on the back. Miranda glared daggers at Beth, Kate, and Claire as she walked past. Curling her lip, Kate turned to Beth.
"Why did you let up like that?" she asked of Beth, obviously disappointed and angry, "You had them right here! In your grasp!"
Beth said, flustered, "I… I don't know…" She looked confused. She put a hand to her forehead and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. In addition, she was flabbergasted to find little droplets of sweat trickling down her brow. She licked her lips. "I…uh…"
"Listen Beth, we don't want to hear it, just –,"
"Shut up, Kate!" Beth shouted over her blazing headache. In rage, she stormed through the door and into her seat. Kate and Claire went to their assigned spots meekly, and Beth watched them with hate burning in her eyes. The intensity of her outburst had stung even herself, and she was almost afraid to talk, lest she yell again.
This was the most horrible day she had ever had. A lowly geek had gotten the better of her, her friends were unsupportive and emotionless, and Mrs. Simon is assigning a pop quiz.
Beth furrowed her brow. Where did that come from? If there were a pop quiz today, Mrs. Simon wouldn't have told the class, would she? Beth shook her head. No, she was just rambling in her head.
"Okay!" Mrs. Simon called from the front of the room. She clapped her hands together. "Attention, class!"
Beth felt her eyes closing.
"I have decided that we have learnt enough about the Pythagorean theorem, and so, that means… POP QUIZ! Take out your pencils, class." Beth's eyes snapped open. Pop quiz? What? How…?
Shaking, Beth reached into her notebook and pulled out a pencil. "It's just déjà vu…" she whispered to herself. "Just déjà vu…"
As she began the test, she frowned and stopped her pencil. "But I've never known déjà vu to tell the future," she said softly to her test. Then she laughed. "I really am crazy! I'm talking to a piece of paper!"
Mrs. Simon raised her eyebrows furtively at Beth. Sheepishly, she continued to work on the quiz.
Wow! My longest chapter yet! …lol… Well, actually, this is only the second chapter, so it doesn't really count, eh? ^_^ Whatever. Hope you enjoyed. And, more good stuff in the next chapter (of course)!! Please review; I really, really, really love reviews. *grins*
catch ya on the flip side!
*Tic-Tac*