Okay, I won't sit down and play video games for several hours. It is now my intention to sit down and listen to Bowling For Soup for several hours--now THAT, I can do while writing. Also, Ghool Girl is the nickname for Chloe Lane on Days of Our Lives. But it's Clear's now!!
Thanks to my dedicated reviewers, two-seventy-seven, Sparky, and... hey, Dharke doesn't have a nickname. How does Hawk sound?
Chapter Four
Billy and Terry walked down the hall on the way to Terry's locker, surprisingly, in deep conversation, despite all the noise and roudiness that surrounded them. Terry was discussing Clear and George, of course.
"He said some mean things," she admitted, "But, I don't know, I'm positive it's not over."
Billy nodded confidently. "He likes her. A lot."
"How can you tell?" she asked, opening her locker.
Billy clicked his tongue and smiled tightly. "Ter, I'm a guy. I can't tell. I just hear what he says."
Terry burst out laughing. "You're hilarious," she said, snuggling closer to him. Then, suddenly, she felt her head lurch forward, then, she was stumbling down to the floor... and Billy landed with her.
Kids started laughing and pointing, but the most obvious one there was Carter. He and his friends were standing behind the two, laughing, clearly the ones that had pushed them.
"Carter, you dick!" Billy exclaimed, working himself up. He held out his hand to Terry.
"Hey, Carter," Terry said before getting up, "Remember when you kissed me this summer? Or when you got put on cop watch?"
"Or when Alex Browning gave you a bloody lip?" Billy added.
"Oh," Terry exclaimed, remembering something, "Or the day after Mark's party the guys took a picture of you brushing your teeth in your boxers and you totally spazzed out? That was so cute!"
Carter chuckled worriedly. "W-what are you talking about?" he asked, his friends looking at him suspiciously. "I was never... I mean, we didn't... oh, I, uh... shit."
Terry grinned whickedly, a look that said she wasn't done yet. She reached into the top shelf of her locker and pulled out a box labeled 'Summer.' It was just a little thing full of important stuff from the summer like her journal and her pictures. Clear had decorated the box for her. It had some pretty cool stuff in here.
"Oh," she said, pulling out a Polaroid, "Here's that one of you and Tod at the party!"
"Okay!" he shouted, "Enough, I get it! Christ, you two sure are gettin' off with this, aren't you?" He bit his lip nervously. "Okay," he said to his football friends, "I hung around with them during the summer, but..."
His friends all started laughing at him. "Carter, stop spazzin'!" one of his friends teased, "You're freakin' out like a little girl!"
Carter blushed a fiery red, then, turning his head away from Terry and Billy, he walked away. The jocks followed him, laughing at him and teasing lightheartetly. Terry got the idea they were more interested in the way Carter freaked than what he did that summer.
"You're evil," he told her, his arm around her waist.
She rolled her eyes. "Carter's a dick."
***
"Hey, Tod," Alex said to his friend in the servery line, "Takin' a late lunch?"
Tod laughed. "Third period spare. Our substitute gym teacher didn't show up. You?"
"Languages department is having a meeting," Alex explained to Tod, "So that means... no Englsih class!"
Tod nodded. "Alex, my bro, we're lucky little shits." He moved his tray along. "Two cinnamon buns, please," he told the pinch-faced lady behind the line. He accepted his pastries and turned back to Alex. "You seen George? He wasn't here at lunch."
Alex sighed heavily. "I guess you didn't hear... he and Clear had a fight. She dumped him."
Tod turned to him, his eyebrow raised, and exclaimed, "What?" Never in two months had he shown the slightest bit of interest in his brother's newfound relationship, but now, knowing that his brother had been dumped, it was much more real. "Why?" was all he could ask.
"Don't ask me," Alex replied simply as Tod payed for his snack. "Women. Can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em."
Tod laughed, then told him, "Man, can you lay off the women jokes? They suck. And not all women are bad." He pointed across the room. "For example, Christa and Blake."
Christa Marsh and Blake Dreyer were the two hottest girls in tenth grade. They were also superficial, dumb as doorknobs, and totally out of everyone's league. But all that mattered to Alex and Tod was that they were hot.
"Man," Tod whispered, "I HAVE to get with one of them. If I don't, I'll strangle myself."
"What do you think we've been trying to do for five years?"
"Whatever we were doing, we weren't trying hard enough." He pointed his chin out in confidence and stood up, striding over to the two hotties.
'This is it, Tod,' he prayed. He began repeating a special mantra he had learned over the years ago to reduce failure. 'Don't fuck up, don't fuck up, don't fuck up...'
"Christa," he said quietly, "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out on Friday to the movies or something..."
"Sure!" Christa squealed. Just not to him.
Alex shook his head in disgust. Tod was standing about twelve feet away from the girls, mumbling worse than ever, so, naturally, the girls didn't see him. Christa and Blake were too busy chirping to each other to notice Tod talking to himself. "What the fuck are you doing?" Alex mouthed to his friend, then waved his hand in a signal that said, 'go over there!'
Gulping, Tod took three more large steps, until he was actually within earshot of the girls. "Christa?" he asked nervously.
"Yes?" Christa asked, turning around. "Oh, Tod!" she exclaimed, "I heard your brother got dumped by Clear Rivers!"
Tod didn't know what to say. "Uh... um..."
"That's gotta be pretty low. Dumped by Ghool Girl! Your brother must be a real loser!"
"Not really," Tod mumbled, embarassed. "I mean, well, he's a... uh..."
Blake giggled. "Looks like it runs in the family."
Tod, humiliated, trudged back to the table.
"What did she say?" Alex asked.
"She said my brother was a loser," Tod mumbled. "Hey!" he suddenly exclaimed, "You ate my cinnamon bun!"
***
Alex slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked through the doors to the hall in front of the music room. He had his music history class in twenty minutes. His spare was a boring hour, so he decided to wait it out in his next class. There wasn't supposed to be a class in there anyways.
He was about to go through the second door when he heard... piano. There must have been someone in there.
There was also singing. It sounded like a CD. But... no, the echo sounded like it was right in the music room. He peeked through the window. Clear was sitting at the piano, singing along softly.
Quietly, he twisted the knob and walked in. Clear didn't see or hear him. She just kept playing and singing. It was an old song Alex had heard a few times back in 1996.
"Now I'm towing my car/There's a hole in the roof/My possessions have caused me suspician/But there's no proof/In the paper today/Tales of war and of waste/But you turn right over to the tv page/hey now, hey now/don't dream it's over/hey now, hey now/when the world comes in/they come, they come/to build a wall between us/we know they won't win."
She began a complicated series of notes on the piano... and she wasn't quite getting it. Alex could not only tell that from the sour sound but from the sour expression on Clear's face.
"Need help?" he asked dumbly. If she needed help, it wasn't from him. He couldn't read or play a note, how could he help Clear Rivers on this song he'd heard twice in his lifetime? Maybe it was an insecurity thing, like he didn't feel comfortable being in there without Clear knowing.
She turned around, her ponytail knocking the seet music down. "What the fuck are you doing here?" she demanded defensively. She gazed at her fallen music. "Look what you made me do!"
"Uh... it's on the floor. It wasn't dropped in a vat of acid."
"Shut it, Browning," she muttered, picking up the music. She started to walk away.
"No, don't leave," he told her, trying to appologize.
"Fuck you," she mumbled.
Alex was totally embarassed. Clear wasn't stupid. She obviously knew that he had made fun of her this morning. He guessed that kind of pushed him back a few notches on the Friend-Meter. Still, he didn't want to lose Clear as a friend. "Clear, I'm sorry. I just like hearing you play."
She turned around, staring at him with eyes like steel. "Well you won't get to hear me play."
Alex scoffed. "Stop freaking out, Clear," he told her, "You're, like, making a big deal over nothing."
"It's not nothing!" she cried, getting progressively louder, "For the first time in my life, there's no right or wrong answer, it's all jumbled together, and... I've never had so many things happening to me at once. So don't go assuming that it's nothing because it's far from that."
"Sorry, Clear," Alex said after a few seconds of silence. "Really, sorry."
She didn't smile, but she looked up with a less dark look in her eyes. "It's alright."
Thanks to my dedicated reviewers, two-seventy-seven, Sparky, and... hey, Dharke doesn't have a nickname. How does Hawk sound?
Chapter Four
Billy and Terry walked down the hall on the way to Terry's locker, surprisingly, in deep conversation, despite all the noise and roudiness that surrounded them. Terry was discussing Clear and George, of course.
"He said some mean things," she admitted, "But, I don't know, I'm positive it's not over."
Billy nodded confidently. "He likes her. A lot."
"How can you tell?" she asked, opening her locker.
Billy clicked his tongue and smiled tightly. "Ter, I'm a guy. I can't tell. I just hear what he says."
Terry burst out laughing. "You're hilarious," she said, snuggling closer to him. Then, suddenly, she felt her head lurch forward, then, she was stumbling down to the floor... and Billy landed with her.
Kids started laughing and pointing, but the most obvious one there was Carter. He and his friends were standing behind the two, laughing, clearly the ones that had pushed them.
"Carter, you dick!" Billy exclaimed, working himself up. He held out his hand to Terry.
"Hey, Carter," Terry said before getting up, "Remember when you kissed me this summer? Or when you got put on cop watch?"
"Or when Alex Browning gave you a bloody lip?" Billy added.
"Oh," Terry exclaimed, remembering something, "Or the day after Mark's party the guys took a picture of you brushing your teeth in your boxers and you totally spazzed out? That was so cute!"
Carter chuckled worriedly. "W-what are you talking about?" he asked, his friends looking at him suspiciously. "I was never... I mean, we didn't... oh, I, uh... shit."
Terry grinned whickedly, a look that said she wasn't done yet. She reached into the top shelf of her locker and pulled out a box labeled 'Summer.' It was just a little thing full of important stuff from the summer like her journal and her pictures. Clear had decorated the box for her. It had some pretty cool stuff in here.
"Oh," she said, pulling out a Polaroid, "Here's that one of you and Tod at the party!"
"Okay!" he shouted, "Enough, I get it! Christ, you two sure are gettin' off with this, aren't you?" He bit his lip nervously. "Okay," he said to his football friends, "I hung around with them during the summer, but..."
His friends all started laughing at him. "Carter, stop spazzin'!" one of his friends teased, "You're freakin' out like a little girl!"
Carter blushed a fiery red, then, turning his head away from Terry and Billy, he walked away. The jocks followed him, laughing at him and teasing lightheartetly. Terry got the idea they were more interested in the way Carter freaked than what he did that summer.
"You're evil," he told her, his arm around her waist.
She rolled her eyes. "Carter's a dick."
***
"Hey, Tod," Alex said to his friend in the servery line, "Takin' a late lunch?"
Tod laughed. "Third period spare. Our substitute gym teacher didn't show up. You?"
"Languages department is having a meeting," Alex explained to Tod, "So that means... no Englsih class!"
Tod nodded. "Alex, my bro, we're lucky little shits." He moved his tray along. "Two cinnamon buns, please," he told the pinch-faced lady behind the line. He accepted his pastries and turned back to Alex. "You seen George? He wasn't here at lunch."
Alex sighed heavily. "I guess you didn't hear... he and Clear had a fight. She dumped him."
Tod turned to him, his eyebrow raised, and exclaimed, "What?" Never in two months had he shown the slightest bit of interest in his brother's newfound relationship, but now, knowing that his brother had been dumped, it was much more real. "Why?" was all he could ask.
"Don't ask me," Alex replied simply as Tod payed for his snack. "Women. Can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em."
Tod laughed, then told him, "Man, can you lay off the women jokes? They suck. And not all women are bad." He pointed across the room. "For example, Christa and Blake."
Christa Marsh and Blake Dreyer were the two hottest girls in tenth grade. They were also superficial, dumb as doorknobs, and totally out of everyone's league. But all that mattered to Alex and Tod was that they were hot.
"Man," Tod whispered, "I HAVE to get with one of them. If I don't, I'll strangle myself."
"What do you think we've been trying to do for five years?"
"Whatever we were doing, we weren't trying hard enough." He pointed his chin out in confidence and stood up, striding over to the two hotties.
'This is it, Tod,' he prayed. He began repeating a special mantra he had learned over the years ago to reduce failure. 'Don't fuck up, don't fuck up, don't fuck up...'
"Christa," he said quietly, "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out on Friday to the movies or something..."
"Sure!" Christa squealed. Just not to him.
Alex shook his head in disgust. Tod was standing about twelve feet away from the girls, mumbling worse than ever, so, naturally, the girls didn't see him. Christa and Blake were too busy chirping to each other to notice Tod talking to himself. "What the fuck are you doing?" Alex mouthed to his friend, then waved his hand in a signal that said, 'go over there!'
Gulping, Tod took three more large steps, until he was actually within earshot of the girls. "Christa?" he asked nervously.
"Yes?" Christa asked, turning around. "Oh, Tod!" she exclaimed, "I heard your brother got dumped by Clear Rivers!"
Tod didn't know what to say. "Uh... um..."
"That's gotta be pretty low. Dumped by Ghool Girl! Your brother must be a real loser!"
"Not really," Tod mumbled, embarassed. "I mean, well, he's a... uh..."
Blake giggled. "Looks like it runs in the family."
Tod, humiliated, trudged back to the table.
"What did she say?" Alex asked.
"She said my brother was a loser," Tod mumbled. "Hey!" he suddenly exclaimed, "You ate my cinnamon bun!"
***
Alex slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked through the doors to the hall in front of the music room. He had his music history class in twenty minutes. His spare was a boring hour, so he decided to wait it out in his next class. There wasn't supposed to be a class in there anyways.
He was about to go through the second door when he heard... piano. There must have been someone in there.
There was also singing. It sounded like a CD. But... no, the echo sounded like it was right in the music room. He peeked through the window. Clear was sitting at the piano, singing along softly.
Quietly, he twisted the knob and walked in. Clear didn't see or hear him. She just kept playing and singing. It was an old song Alex had heard a few times back in 1996.
"Now I'm towing my car/There's a hole in the roof/My possessions have caused me suspician/But there's no proof/In the paper today/Tales of war and of waste/But you turn right over to the tv page/hey now, hey now/don't dream it's over/hey now, hey now/when the world comes in/they come, they come/to build a wall between us/we know they won't win."
She began a complicated series of notes on the piano... and she wasn't quite getting it. Alex could not only tell that from the sour sound but from the sour expression on Clear's face.
"Need help?" he asked dumbly. If she needed help, it wasn't from him. He couldn't read or play a note, how could he help Clear Rivers on this song he'd heard twice in his lifetime? Maybe it was an insecurity thing, like he didn't feel comfortable being in there without Clear knowing.
She turned around, her ponytail knocking the seet music down. "What the fuck are you doing here?" she demanded defensively. She gazed at her fallen music. "Look what you made me do!"
"Uh... it's on the floor. It wasn't dropped in a vat of acid."
"Shut it, Browning," she muttered, picking up the music. She started to walk away.
"No, don't leave," he told her, trying to appologize.
"Fuck you," she mumbled.
Alex was totally embarassed. Clear wasn't stupid. She obviously knew that he had made fun of her this morning. He guessed that kind of pushed him back a few notches on the Friend-Meter. Still, he didn't want to lose Clear as a friend. "Clear, I'm sorry. I just like hearing you play."
She turned around, staring at him with eyes like steel. "Well you won't get to hear me play."
Alex scoffed. "Stop freaking out, Clear," he told her, "You're, like, making a big deal over nothing."
"It's not nothing!" she cried, getting progressively louder, "For the first time in my life, there's no right or wrong answer, it's all jumbled together, and... I've never had so many things happening to me at once. So don't go assuming that it's nothing because it's far from that."
"Sorry, Clear," Alex said after a few seconds of silence. "Really, sorry."
She didn't smile, but she looked up with a less dark look in her eyes. "It's alright."
