Before Dharke makes a comment about how late this ch. is, just thought I'd let u know that I have been very sick lately. I don't believe in flu shots. They're a scam.
Ah, my lovely reviewers, so dedicated to my story. Hoorah!! Even Dharke, despite the fact that she thinks I'm insane... (foams at the mouth) I am one of the most stable human beings you can find! (crushes full pop can on head and gets showered in Pepsi) Really! Anyway, thanks for the compliments on my site, can you do me a favor? Go to the page with pics from my school trip and tell me if you think Kyle is hot. Someone said that, and I just can't see it...
Oh, and Dharke, I've been meaning to ask, do you hate Clear the character, or do you hate Ali Larter in general? You gotta admit, she's very pretty outside the Clear role. I have a friend that looks a lot like her and she happens to be gorgeous, so it's hard to see the 'beaver teeth.'
Anyway, this chapter contains a lil shout to my buddy 277.
Chapter Eleven
Tod led Alex and George through the front doors of the school. "Day three!" he said smugly, "Wonder what they've got for us today!"
The other two shrugged and turned down the hallway. None of them noticed Clear, who fell into step with them.
"Hey," she said quickly. Tod and George looked around abrubptly at the girl, nearly pushing Alex down with their quick turns. Clear laughed. "Don't look so shocked," she said with a mix of sarcasm and friendliness.
"Clear!" George greeted her, "It feels like you've been gone so long!"
Clear shrugged her shoulders. She opened her mouth, shut it, then opened it again. "Uh, George, can I talk to you alone?" she asked nervously.
George was shocked, but hid it well, nodding to her, shrugging to his friends, and following Clear in a complete silence to the doors of the mezanine. Clear's face was a little nervous, but still assured, like she had planned out what she would say. She was sitting on a weight bench, her hands resting on her lap.
"George," she said, biting her lip, "I gotta admit, it's been hard."
His hands in his pockets, George raised his eyebrows at his ex-girlfriend. "Could you be more specific? It's been hard without me? It's been hard being away from school? It's been hard with everything? You have to tell me!"
She sighed... and smiled. "George, that's what I realized. I mean, I'm really sorry I was so secretive before. And I'm sorry for thinking that I couldn't trust you, because life's too short to wait and see when I will be able." She reached for the cuff of her blue sweater and pulled it up past her elbow, revealling a nasty, but almost faded bruise. "Do you know what this is?"
Reluctantly, as she was speaking, George sat next to her on the weight bench. "Well, I know it's a bruise, but I don't know what it's from."
For a second, Clear looked like she might throw up. The events of the last five days cast a shadow over her face, and it was still hard to say what she was feeling. "It's from Colin."
George said nothing, but nodded, though shock was on his face, he couldn't find the words to assure Clear, or open his throat to bring them out.
"Colin beat me and my mom. Mostly my mom. And like an idiot, I never stood up to him. I never showed him who was boss..." she shook as if she was crying, but she was beyond tears at this point. No more tears. "I'm not going to drag it out any longer. George, Friday night, Colin raped me."
The three last words each sunk into George's ears, and a second later, he pounded down on the bench, his face maddened. "Fuck! Why didn't you tell me? I'll fucking kill the son of a bitch!"
Clear put her hand on his wrist. "You won't have to. He died in a robery on Saturday afternoon." George's face faltered, and he went back to listen mode. "Anyway," she continued, "My mom... she just can't deal. I don't know why. I don't know what's stopping her from trying. But whatever it is, we're gonna be moving to New Jersey next week."
No reaction from George.
"George?" she asked, "Are you listening?"
George's head snapped up and he looked her in the eye again. "Yeah," he mumbled. "You just told me everything I wanted you to tell me. And don't get me wrong, I feel terrible for what's happened to you. But... it feels so good to know now." He put his arm around her. "Only I guess it's too late for us."
She pushed his hand off with a smile. "Big time."
He laughed. For a second, they sat there in silence, but the silence was good, because neither of them were trying to make conversation.
"Can I ask you a question?" George asked after what felt like forever, "Do you like Alex?"
Clear glanced up at him, a serious look on her face. "Are you asking me so you can tell him?"
George laughed. "That's a yes."
She shook her head. "But you won't tell him, will you?
George couldn't laugh again. "Of course not," he promised.
They left.
Together.
***
Journal: Terry Chaney
And just when I thought things couldn't get weirder.
So, Clear is finally back today, and she told me everything. We both skipped first period so that we wouldn't have to be seperated. We kind of sympathized with each other for awhile, and I'm just so angry that she's moving that it's not funny. She's been one of my best friends for so long now!
Only here's where things got weird. We were in the locker area and we see Billy at the snack machine. Before I can even talk to him, he rounded the corner, and it was like, poof! He was gone! I can't believe him! How can he avoid me the way he is? That's stupid! I'm his girlfriend!
Am I?
---
Carter clicked his pen twice, looked at his desk, shifted his feet, glared at the teacher, and then at his work. What the hell did 'école' mean?
His friend, Robbie, looked at him, then pointed at the lame Mr. Murneau, who had his lips pursed together in such concentration that he looked like a constipated duck. The two boys broke out into laughs.
Mr. Murneau looked up, his duck lips straightened into two pink lines that looked like part of a baboon's ass. Carter couldn't help it, he laughed harder.
"Carter, Robert," Mr. Murneau asked in what everyone guessed was a fake French accent, "Avez-vous un problème?"
Carter and Rob tried not to laugh, but didn't quite cut it.
Mr. Murneau sighed defeatedly. "Au bureau," he instructed them. Carter knew what that meant. He and Robbie stood up and left the classroom, snickering as they walked through the door.
"That was worth it!" he told his friend proudly.
"Fuck yeah!" Robbie agreed. "I don't care if I get a million detentions--they don't fuckin' teach you anything anyway!"
Carter looked at him strangely. "Fuck, man, we're not GOING to the office. Didn't I teach you anything?"
Robbie pretended to laugh. "I was just fucking with you!"
"Doubt it," Carter murmured.
They smiled and walked through the hall smugly to the nearest door when they saw Terry and Clear emerging from the girls' bathroom.
"Terry!" Carter taunted flirtaciously.
The blonde didn't turn around.
"Terry!" Carter called more insistantly.
She still faced away from him .
Inside, he wondered what he did. Of course, it was nothing he had done that was making her cry the way she was.
***
For once, there were more than three people at the lunch table. Only Billy was absent at the time. Terry bit her lip in confusion, then her face reddened, possibly from anger. Only Clear noticed.
"So, how is everyone?" Alex asked in his cheerfull voice.
They all groaned.
Okay, so maybe they were all together, but in the long run, it felt like they were miles apart.
"Uh... well this is a start," he muttered.
Tod grinned. "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." He stood up and walked with a grin to the Frosh Week table. Shania was there as always, wearing a baggy old Beatles T-shirt and a red trucker hat. "This event is by far the tastiest!"
Tod noticed a few people get suspiciously green.
"All who dare enter this competition step forward!"
On que, Tod and four other kids stepped forward.
"Since this even is quite stomach-churning," Shania said, reaching into her pocket, "The winner will revieve two free admision tickets to the Frosh Week dance!"
Tod rolled his eyes. Like he would be caught dead at that. Still, this was about the glory, not the prize.
Shania began walking across the area introducing the five contestants. She introduced Tod last. "Tod Waggner has participated in every Frosh Week event so far!" she informed the crowd, as if no one knew that, "This game is going to be my favourite!"
Tod's eyes darted from side to side suspiciously. That couldn't be good.
"We'll start with Tod!" Shania was going on. "Tod," she said way too loudly, "What's your favourite lunch from the cafeteria?"
Tod didn't have to think. "Hands down the double jalapeno burger." That was great. Maybe he would get a free one!
Shania wrote that down and went down the line of competetors. The five guys sat down on the bench, and two minutes later, Shania returned with a cafeteria tray full of food.
Tod was starting to regret placing his order the second he saw the blender. Pete Ryan, another Student Council exec, had pulled the appliance out of whoever knew where. He plopped it down, drew the cord into the wall.
"Oh, fuck," Tod groaned to himself as he witnessed one kids' cheese fries poured into the blender. Pete switched on the machine, and suddenly, before Tod's eyes, twirled a greyish, brownish, sick mess.
The tenth-grader gaped when the blender was switched off. He accepted the cup with shakey hands, bringing it closer to his mouth until he poured the mess into his mouth--and choked it right back out.
"AW MAN!" he exclaimed, "THAT'S NASTY!"
The crowd booed. Tod's insides did flip-flops. The next two guys followed the actions of the first, the fourth downing about half of his chicken-burger shake before gagging and begging to stop.
"Good job, buddy," Tod muttered as he patted the guy on the back, wondering how he would defend his self-proclaimed title as Frosh King.
"Tod's turn!" the roudy blonde prompted.
Tod shook as he watched his beloved burger being poured into the Hamilton Beach. He felt he had to turn away, yet his eyes were fixed on the swirling mess that had become of his former favourite meal.
"Ya ready, buddy?" Shania asked testily.
"Yeh... I uh..." he trailed off. There was no protesting when he was handed the jug. Trying to think of how he would let go of his sense of taste, he reluctantly poured the goo into his mouth and let it trickle down his throat.
His tongue cramped at the feeling as he attempted to force more down into his stomach. The nasty mass of pureed burger was a greenish one, the only thing a greener shade was that of Tod's face. Finally, with no strength left in his tongue, he put the jug down, heeping his head back so that the rest of the chunky juice could seap down his throat.
"Oh, my God!" Shania exclaimed, disgusted for the first time all week, "Here are your tickets, now go brush your teeth!"
Tod took the tickets and began making his way to the bathroom to blow chunks. Unfortunately, he was interrupted by Christa, who, for the first time, was turning on her temptress charm to the skinny boy.
"Tod," she asked softly, trying to turn on the sex appeal, "Uh... you got someone to give that ticket to?"
Tod glared at her. "Well, I have friends, you know."
"But I'm sure they can pay their own way in."
Tod's eyes darted from side to side, giving himself a duh-duh look. "You're like the richest girl in ninth grade."
"That's Blake," she corrected him.
"Whatever," Tod muttered, "You two are pretty much interchangeable."
"Ouch," Christa mocked, "That hurts me sooo much."
"Well, look, I'm not about to pass up my ticket to someone who's only purpose in life is to--"
He was cut off when Christa, in a ballzy move, snatched one of the yellow stubs from his hand. She put it in her pocket. "Thanks!" she teased, before walking away.
Tod would have ran after her, easily catching up. Only he still really needed to barf.
***
"He's gone temporarily insane."
Clear was attempting to reassure Terry of her problems with Billy as she went through her locker after school, periodically dropping things in the garbage can nearby.
"Temporarily means he'll be sane again at some point."
"That's my point."
Terry felt bad for moping, especially with all of Clear's problems, so she was trying to keep a good outlook. However, it was just a little hard when she had no idea where she stood with a guy she thought was her boyfriend.
"How can you have so much shit in your locker after less than a week of school?" Terry asked Clear suspiciously as she ran her hand through the messy pile of papers, books, and random items.
"I'm a bit of a pack-rat," Clear confessed, peeling a crinkly poster of her favourite hottie, Kerr Smith, off the door of her locker. "Hey, ever notice how Carter looks a lot like this guy?" she asked Terry.
Terry shrugged. "Wouldn't know. Don't watch Dawson's Creek."
"You should," Clear told her.
Terry shook her head, trying to keep her mind off of guys for a few minutes. She skimmed her hand over the things on the top shelf. She came across pictures, some of Clear's old friends from where she used to live, some of Clear's German sheperd puppy, and one that especially caught her eye.
It was the only picture with Clear in it, though her face was turned away from the camera, not in embarassment, but in laughter. Terry, to her own shock, was also in the picture, in the same state as Clear. The two each had a fun, carefree look about them, but most interestingly, they were each slung under Carter Horton's shoulders.
It was taken at the lake. Probably from the day of the birthday party. Thinking back to the moment, Terry could almost feel the foamy surf tickling her feet, the sting in her eyes from the bright sun, and the laughter of her friends ringing in her ear. She remembered her thoughts, her thoughts that everything had worked out, that Carter would be her friend, and that she would go back home feeling like she truly had changed.
But now things had changed more than ever. Carter wasn't her friend. Things weren't perfect, for anyone.
Why couldn't she have that piece of paradise back?
Wishing she could, she suddenly got an idea.
***
Beads of water dripped from the jock's hair to his forehead, his heart still pounding from the sprints he had done up and down the football field. Even after his shower, he still felt like he was running. He had beaten his own personal record. Feeling proud, he approached his locker in the empty hallway.
He noticed it right away. It was like a small piece of paper, sticking out of the crack in his door. He grabbed it, focusing his sight on the picture he had in his hand.
It was a picture he had never seen before. Possibly the only picture of him and Terry together. Of coruse, Clear was in the picture as well, so it was more of a friend thing.
Was he ever just friends with Terry? His memories flooded back to the lake and all the fun he had there.
Feeling guilty, he searched for a place do discard the photograph. Doing so, he noticed the marks of pencil on the back. It was a girl's handwriting. Intrigued, he scanned it with his eyes.
'Carter --
Remember this?
Terry'
Carter tried to think of what she meant by 'this.'
Then he realized.
***
Terry slammed the back door of her house, wishing she had someone to talk to. Every time she said good-bye to Clear, it felt like she was preparing herself for the big good-bye. She was feeling something strange, something she felt she needed to talk about.
"Terry," her mom greeted fakely, still possibly upset from the events that had occured days earlier, "Can you help peal potatoes with me?"
Terry didn't want to be in the same room as the woman, but knew she would be up to her shoulders in shit if she said no. She didn't, however, bother to hide her disslike of the activity. "Sure."
Mrs. Chaney motioned her into the kitchen, where Terry could smell baked chicken in the oven. "How was school?"
"Boring."
"Something must have happened."
"No," Terry replied coldly.
"Well I'm sure you didn't just go through your day like--"
"If you're referring oh-so-subtly to me and Billy, we're over, okay?"
Terry's mom didn't know what to say, except, "When did this end?"
"Today," Terry grumbled the lie, since nothing officially had ended yet.
"Well..." Mrs. Chaney mused, searching for a politically correct way of saying she was pleased, "You made a good descision."
---
Chapter Theme
Oldeander - Bruise
George's Theme
She holds her head within her hands
Quietly reeling
If only he could understand
What she's feeling
She moves in to me
To kiss my shoulder
With emergency
For me to hold her
(Me to hold her)
It's all I want, when I want
She's all I need, when it's all
It's all I have
When I lose it's just a
Bruise
Ah, my lovely reviewers, so dedicated to my story. Hoorah!! Even Dharke, despite the fact that she thinks I'm insane... (foams at the mouth) I am one of the most stable human beings you can find! (crushes full pop can on head and gets showered in Pepsi) Really! Anyway, thanks for the compliments on my site, can you do me a favor? Go to the page with pics from my school trip and tell me if you think Kyle is hot. Someone said that, and I just can't see it...
Oh, and Dharke, I've been meaning to ask, do you hate Clear the character, or do you hate Ali Larter in general? You gotta admit, she's very pretty outside the Clear role. I have a friend that looks a lot like her and she happens to be gorgeous, so it's hard to see the 'beaver teeth.'
Anyway, this chapter contains a lil shout to my buddy 277.
Chapter Eleven
Tod led Alex and George through the front doors of the school. "Day three!" he said smugly, "Wonder what they've got for us today!"
The other two shrugged and turned down the hallway. None of them noticed Clear, who fell into step with them.
"Hey," she said quickly. Tod and George looked around abrubptly at the girl, nearly pushing Alex down with their quick turns. Clear laughed. "Don't look so shocked," she said with a mix of sarcasm and friendliness.
"Clear!" George greeted her, "It feels like you've been gone so long!"
Clear shrugged her shoulders. She opened her mouth, shut it, then opened it again. "Uh, George, can I talk to you alone?" she asked nervously.
George was shocked, but hid it well, nodding to her, shrugging to his friends, and following Clear in a complete silence to the doors of the mezanine. Clear's face was a little nervous, but still assured, like she had planned out what she would say. She was sitting on a weight bench, her hands resting on her lap.
"George," she said, biting her lip, "I gotta admit, it's been hard."
His hands in his pockets, George raised his eyebrows at his ex-girlfriend. "Could you be more specific? It's been hard without me? It's been hard being away from school? It's been hard with everything? You have to tell me!"
She sighed... and smiled. "George, that's what I realized. I mean, I'm really sorry I was so secretive before. And I'm sorry for thinking that I couldn't trust you, because life's too short to wait and see when I will be able." She reached for the cuff of her blue sweater and pulled it up past her elbow, revealling a nasty, but almost faded bruise. "Do you know what this is?"
Reluctantly, as she was speaking, George sat next to her on the weight bench. "Well, I know it's a bruise, but I don't know what it's from."
For a second, Clear looked like she might throw up. The events of the last five days cast a shadow over her face, and it was still hard to say what she was feeling. "It's from Colin."
George said nothing, but nodded, though shock was on his face, he couldn't find the words to assure Clear, or open his throat to bring them out.
"Colin beat me and my mom. Mostly my mom. And like an idiot, I never stood up to him. I never showed him who was boss..." she shook as if she was crying, but she was beyond tears at this point. No more tears. "I'm not going to drag it out any longer. George, Friday night, Colin raped me."
The three last words each sunk into George's ears, and a second later, he pounded down on the bench, his face maddened. "Fuck! Why didn't you tell me? I'll fucking kill the son of a bitch!"
Clear put her hand on his wrist. "You won't have to. He died in a robery on Saturday afternoon." George's face faltered, and he went back to listen mode. "Anyway," she continued, "My mom... she just can't deal. I don't know why. I don't know what's stopping her from trying. But whatever it is, we're gonna be moving to New Jersey next week."
No reaction from George.
"George?" she asked, "Are you listening?"
George's head snapped up and he looked her in the eye again. "Yeah," he mumbled. "You just told me everything I wanted you to tell me. And don't get me wrong, I feel terrible for what's happened to you. But... it feels so good to know now." He put his arm around her. "Only I guess it's too late for us."
She pushed his hand off with a smile. "Big time."
He laughed. For a second, they sat there in silence, but the silence was good, because neither of them were trying to make conversation.
"Can I ask you a question?" George asked after what felt like forever, "Do you like Alex?"
Clear glanced up at him, a serious look on her face. "Are you asking me so you can tell him?"
George laughed. "That's a yes."
She shook her head. "But you won't tell him, will you?
George couldn't laugh again. "Of course not," he promised.
They left.
Together.
***
Journal: Terry Chaney
And just when I thought things couldn't get weirder.
So, Clear is finally back today, and she told me everything. We both skipped first period so that we wouldn't have to be seperated. We kind of sympathized with each other for awhile, and I'm just so angry that she's moving that it's not funny. She's been one of my best friends for so long now!
Only here's where things got weird. We were in the locker area and we see Billy at the snack machine. Before I can even talk to him, he rounded the corner, and it was like, poof! He was gone! I can't believe him! How can he avoid me the way he is? That's stupid! I'm his girlfriend!
Am I?
---
Carter clicked his pen twice, looked at his desk, shifted his feet, glared at the teacher, and then at his work. What the hell did 'école' mean?
His friend, Robbie, looked at him, then pointed at the lame Mr. Murneau, who had his lips pursed together in such concentration that he looked like a constipated duck. The two boys broke out into laughs.
Mr. Murneau looked up, his duck lips straightened into two pink lines that looked like part of a baboon's ass. Carter couldn't help it, he laughed harder.
"Carter, Robert," Mr. Murneau asked in what everyone guessed was a fake French accent, "Avez-vous un problème?"
Carter and Rob tried not to laugh, but didn't quite cut it.
Mr. Murneau sighed defeatedly. "Au bureau," he instructed them. Carter knew what that meant. He and Robbie stood up and left the classroom, snickering as they walked through the door.
"That was worth it!" he told his friend proudly.
"Fuck yeah!" Robbie agreed. "I don't care if I get a million detentions--they don't fuckin' teach you anything anyway!"
Carter looked at him strangely. "Fuck, man, we're not GOING to the office. Didn't I teach you anything?"
Robbie pretended to laugh. "I was just fucking with you!"
"Doubt it," Carter murmured.
They smiled and walked through the hall smugly to the nearest door when they saw Terry and Clear emerging from the girls' bathroom.
"Terry!" Carter taunted flirtaciously.
The blonde didn't turn around.
"Terry!" Carter called more insistantly.
She still faced away from him .
Inside, he wondered what he did. Of course, it was nothing he had done that was making her cry the way she was.
***
For once, there were more than three people at the lunch table. Only Billy was absent at the time. Terry bit her lip in confusion, then her face reddened, possibly from anger. Only Clear noticed.
"So, how is everyone?" Alex asked in his cheerfull voice.
They all groaned.
Okay, so maybe they were all together, but in the long run, it felt like they were miles apart.
"Uh... well this is a start," he muttered.
Tod grinned. "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." He stood up and walked with a grin to the Frosh Week table. Shania was there as always, wearing a baggy old Beatles T-shirt and a red trucker hat. "This event is by far the tastiest!"
Tod noticed a few people get suspiciously green.
"All who dare enter this competition step forward!"
On que, Tod and four other kids stepped forward.
"Since this even is quite stomach-churning," Shania said, reaching into her pocket, "The winner will revieve two free admision tickets to the Frosh Week dance!"
Tod rolled his eyes. Like he would be caught dead at that. Still, this was about the glory, not the prize.
Shania began walking across the area introducing the five contestants. She introduced Tod last. "Tod Waggner has participated in every Frosh Week event so far!" she informed the crowd, as if no one knew that, "This game is going to be my favourite!"
Tod's eyes darted from side to side suspiciously. That couldn't be good.
"We'll start with Tod!" Shania was going on. "Tod," she said way too loudly, "What's your favourite lunch from the cafeteria?"
Tod didn't have to think. "Hands down the double jalapeno burger." That was great. Maybe he would get a free one!
Shania wrote that down and went down the line of competetors. The five guys sat down on the bench, and two minutes later, Shania returned with a cafeteria tray full of food.
Tod was starting to regret placing his order the second he saw the blender. Pete Ryan, another Student Council exec, had pulled the appliance out of whoever knew where. He plopped it down, drew the cord into the wall.
"Oh, fuck," Tod groaned to himself as he witnessed one kids' cheese fries poured into the blender. Pete switched on the machine, and suddenly, before Tod's eyes, twirled a greyish, brownish, sick mess.
The tenth-grader gaped when the blender was switched off. He accepted the cup with shakey hands, bringing it closer to his mouth until he poured the mess into his mouth--and choked it right back out.
"AW MAN!" he exclaimed, "THAT'S NASTY!"
The crowd booed. Tod's insides did flip-flops. The next two guys followed the actions of the first, the fourth downing about half of his chicken-burger shake before gagging and begging to stop.
"Good job, buddy," Tod muttered as he patted the guy on the back, wondering how he would defend his self-proclaimed title as Frosh King.
"Tod's turn!" the roudy blonde prompted.
Tod shook as he watched his beloved burger being poured into the Hamilton Beach. He felt he had to turn away, yet his eyes were fixed on the swirling mess that had become of his former favourite meal.
"Ya ready, buddy?" Shania asked testily.
"Yeh... I uh..." he trailed off. There was no protesting when he was handed the jug. Trying to think of how he would let go of his sense of taste, he reluctantly poured the goo into his mouth and let it trickle down his throat.
His tongue cramped at the feeling as he attempted to force more down into his stomach. The nasty mass of pureed burger was a greenish one, the only thing a greener shade was that of Tod's face. Finally, with no strength left in his tongue, he put the jug down, heeping his head back so that the rest of the chunky juice could seap down his throat.
"Oh, my God!" Shania exclaimed, disgusted for the first time all week, "Here are your tickets, now go brush your teeth!"
Tod took the tickets and began making his way to the bathroom to blow chunks. Unfortunately, he was interrupted by Christa, who, for the first time, was turning on her temptress charm to the skinny boy.
"Tod," she asked softly, trying to turn on the sex appeal, "Uh... you got someone to give that ticket to?"
Tod glared at her. "Well, I have friends, you know."
"But I'm sure they can pay their own way in."
Tod's eyes darted from side to side, giving himself a duh-duh look. "You're like the richest girl in ninth grade."
"That's Blake," she corrected him.
"Whatever," Tod muttered, "You two are pretty much interchangeable."
"Ouch," Christa mocked, "That hurts me sooo much."
"Well, look, I'm not about to pass up my ticket to someone who's only purpose in life is to--"
He was cut off when Christa, in a ballzy move, snatched one of the yellow stubs from his hand. She put it in her pocket. "Thanks!" she teased, before walking away.
Tod would have ran after her, easily catching up. Only he still really needed to barf.
***
"He's gone temporarily insane."
Clear was attempting to reassure Terry of her problems with Billy as she went through her locker after school, periodically dropping things in the garbage can nearby.
"Temporarily means he'll be sane again at some point."
"That's my point."
Terry felt bad for moping, especially with all of Clear's problems, so she was trying to keep a good outlook. However, it was just a little hard when she had no idea where she stood with a guy she thought was her boyfriend.
"How can you have so much shit in your locker after less than a week of school?" Terry asked Clear suspiciously as she ran her hand through the messy pile of papers, books, and random items.
"I'm a bit of a pack-rat," Clear confessed, peeling a crinkly poster of her favourite hottie, Kerr Smith, off the door of her locker. "Hey, ever notice how Carter looks a lot like this guy?" she asked Terry.
Terry shrugged. "Wouldn't know. Don't watch Dawson's Creek."
"You should," Clear told her.
Terry shook her head, trying to keep her mind off of guys for a few minutes. She skimmed her hand over the things on the top shelf. She came across pictures, some of Clear's old friends from where she used to live, some of Clear's German sheperd puppy, and one that especially caught her eye.
It was the only picture with Clear in it, though her face was turned away from the camera, not in embarassment, but in laughter. Terry, to her own shock, was also in the picture, in the same state as Clear. The two each had a fun, carefree look about them, but most interestingly, they were each slung under Carter Horton's shoulders.
It was taken at the lake. Probably from the day of the birthday party. Thinking back to the moment, Terry could almost feel the foamy surf tickling her feet, the sting in her eyes from the bright sun, and the laughter of her friends ringing in her ear. She remembered her thoughts, her thoughts that everything had worked out, that Carter would be her friend, and that she would go back home feeling like she truly had changed.
But now things had changed more than ever. Carter wasn't her friend. Things weren't perfect, for anyone.
Why couldn't she have that piece of paradise back?
Wishing she could, she suddenly got an idea.
***
Beads of water dripped from the jock's hair to his forehead, his heart still pounding from the sprints he had done up and down the football field. Even after his shower, he still felt like he was running. He had beaten his own personal record. Feeling proud, he approached his locker in the empty hallway.
He noticed it right away. It was like a small piece of paper, sticking out of the crack in his door. He grabbed it, focusing his sight on the picture he had in his hand.
It was a picture he had never seen before. Possibly the only picture of him and Terry together. Of coruse, Clear was in the picture as well, so it was more of a friend thing.
Was he ever just friends with Terry? His memories flooded back to the lake and all the fun he had there.
Feeling guilty, he searched for a place do discard the photograph. Doing so, he noticed the marks of pencil on the back. It was a girl's handwriting. Intrigued, he scanned it with his eyes.
'Carter --
Remember this?
Terry'
Carter tried to think of what she meant by 'this.'
Then he realized.
***
Terry slammed the back door of her house, wishing she had someone to talk to. Every time she said good-bye to Clear, it felt like she was preparing herself for the big good-bye. She was feeling something strange, something she felt she needed to talk about.
"Terry," her mom greeted fakely, still possibly upset from the events that had occured days earlier, "Can you help peal potatoes with me?"
Terry didn't want to be in the same room as the woman, but knew she would be up to her shoulders in shit if she said no. She didn't, however, bother to hide her disslike of the activity. "Sure."
Mrs. Chaney motioned her into the kitchen, where Terry could smell baked chicken in the oven. "How was school?"
"Boring."
"Something must have happened."
"No," Terry replied coldly.
"Well I'm sure you didn't just go through your day like--"
"If you're referring oh-so-subtly to me and Billy, we're over, okay?"
Terry's mom didn't know what to say, except, "When did this end?"
"Today," Terry grumbled the lie, since nothing officially had ended yet.
"Well..." Mrs. Chaney mused, searching for a politically correct way of saying she was pleased, "You made a good descision."
---
Chapter Theme
Oldeander - Bruise
George's Theme
She holds her head within her hands
Quietly reeling
If only he could understand
What she's feeling
She moves in to me
To kiss my shoulder
With emergency
For me to hold her
(Me to hold her)
It's all I want, when I want
She's all I need, when it's all
It's all I have
When I lose it's just a
Bruise
