This chapter isn't a personal as all of the other ones. But the next one is
going to be DREAMY! (Not that I know for sure, I haven't written it, only
planned in.)
YOU ROCK! You know that, right, keep reviewing, and I'll keep updating.
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Suze's POV.
Oooh, I was in trouble! I hadn't gotten my homework finished last night. I woke up with a start at six o'clock, and ran to my desk. Okay, algebra, algebra. Shouldn't be too difficult, right?
Er, it would be easier if I could find my papers . . .
Nothing was on my desk.
Then, I turned to my bag, and realized that it had all like, been packed in neatly. Huh? I thought I fell asleep? Oh well, maybe Andy came in and put it away for me. He sometimes did that.
I found my maths sheet without trouble. But . . .
What the hell?
All the answers were smartly filled in, in handwriting that I didn't recognize. I stared. Andy wouldn't have done THAT. And then I remembered . . . hadn't I fallen asleep on the desk, just as I got the sheet out?
How did I get to my bed?
WHAT WAS GOING ON HERE?!
Shaking my head, I slipped all the papers back into my file. Oh well, at least I didn't have to do maths, right? I decided to go have a long, hot shower. They cure everything. You can just stand under the steaming hot water as it falls on your body, and wash away all your thoughts as well as all your grime.
But yeah.
And of course I like, wore my bikini. I was even more sure of that now, after Paul's latest er . . . episode. I was seriously going to have to do something about that guy. But what? I couldn't tell Father Dom about him, because I don't know if he'd survive, after the whole exorcism thing. But hey, I couldn't just let things go on the way they were.
And I hated being called Susie! RAH!
After a shower that was sure to send Carmel into a drought, I dragged myself out, and went back to bed for ten minutes, until I heard my mum calling for me to get up. I jumped into some comfy black slacks that flared at the bottom, and put on this low cut, red off-the-shoulder top. Then, I put this totally cute red flower in my hair.
Nice . . .
Time to make someone cry, Suze.
~*~
How boring . . .
I was sitting in a desk next to CeeCee in Calculus. She was staring dreamily at Adam, who was trying to flick a spitball at Mr Osbourne, the teacher. Bad idea. Mrs Osbourne was this middle-aged, scrawny guy, who could not take a joke if it was handed to him with a billion-dollar check. So it wasn't the brightest idea Adam's had, but who was I to tell him to stop?
The class was almost over. It was recess next.
'Now, I'm going to collect your homework sheets, people,' he sniffed, his phlegm rattling in his throat. He was one of those guys who had a killer moustache that he'd never shave off. He was starting to bald, too. It wasn't a good look. Everyone felt weird around him, because . . . well, no offense, but the guy was a huge freak of nature with no prospect for a future except to teach some cocky-ass kids about the values of x and y. I mean, what kind of a life is that?
'I'm calling you up to make sure that you've done it,' he said snottily, wiping his bulbous nose with his sleeve. I made a revolted face at CeeCee, who grinned. 'Lunch time detentions for those miss-fortunate mutants who were foolish enough to forget their algebra.'
'Brad Ackerman.'
Dopey sauntered up smugly. In his fist, he held his sheet. I knew for a fact that the handwriting on his page belonged to Doc. Oh, I would get him back later for it, the pig . . .
The list went on. Mr Osbourne called Becky Seymour up just before me, who informed him that her dog really HAD eaten her homework, and she had a note to prove it, but Mr Osbourne smirked at her, and issued her with a detention slip.
'Susannah Simon,' he leered at me.
I nervously got up. Oh, who ever had filled in my answers had better have gotten them right, or Mr Osbourne would give me detention anyway.
'Well, this is a pleasant surprise,' he smiled toothily, his moustache twitching in mirth, 'Susannah has finished her homework, class. I think that this deserves applause.
Obligingly, everyone clapped, and Dopey guffawed with all his jock friends. I glared at him, and was about to go sit down, when something caught my eye.
Oh. My. God.
Instantly, I snatched the algebraic sheet off him, horrified. Only now, I had seen what was on the back. Oh my God, oh my freakin' GOD!
EW!!!
On there was a picture of . . . well, I won't even say, suffice it to say that it was definitely R rated, and sexually orientated. I mean, it was a good drawing, but YUCK! Then, there was a message.
"YOU KNOW YOU WANT ME."
I was appalled. Now I knew who'd done my homework.
Paul.
Of course.
I couldn't believe that I'd been so close to handing this in!
'Miss Simon?'
Mr Osbourne was looking at me strangely. 'Miss Simon, I never knew that applause had that affect on you. Please submit your homework. NOW.'
I must have looked seriously weird, because he was like, 'Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost.'
Ha . . . you have no idea, pal . . .
'I - I - I'm fine,' I choked, and hid the paper behind my back, folding it.
'Your homework then?' he said, raising an eyebrow.
I felt like I was about to hyperventilate.
'You know?' I said squeakily, 'I think that I left it on my desk at hoe. I mean home! How funny is that?!' I began laughing breathlessly.
His face contorted slightly. 'Miss Simon, I just saw the sheet. It was filled in, so I don't know why you are refusing to -'
That was when it was snatched out of my hand from behind.
'Here, Mr O,' Dopey said triumphantly, handing it to him. I tried to swipe it out of his hand, but no go. Dopey held me back as my teacher went to unfold the forbidden page.
'Don't open it!' I screamed. Everyone was staring at me like I was a psycho freak.
My heart stopped beating, as I watched how he reacted. First his eyes bulged . . . Then, he blinked a number of times in sequence, raising his eyebrows. Then, the dude like, totally blushed. Oh, how embarrassing . . . And then he half smiled for a second!
HOLY CRAP!
And after long last, the anger came.
'Miss Simon!' he said in outrage, stuffing the paper into his pocket. I was shaking my head. I felt very numb all of a sudden . . .
'I swear, man, I SO didn't draw that!' I said insistently.
His eyes were still bugging out of their sockets. 'Take this to the headmaster's office, and explain to him the meaning of this!'
'What was on it?' chorused the class.
'Shut your pie holes!' Mr Osbourne roared at them, and they all fell quiet.
'B-But-'
'No buts. Get out of my class, Susannah. This is a disgrace.' He handed me the crumpled sheet of paper. Dopey tried to grab it off of me, but I'm stronger than the bloke, okay? Mr Osbourne gave him a lunch time detention, which lightened the mood a little.
But what would I say to Father Dominic?
Merciful Zeus, did that just happen?
(A/N: Giles . . . ^_^)
Oh yes. Why did I feel so deadened?
Shock. It was shock. Trust me, when I recovered myself, I was going to be FURIOUS. Just . . . just gimme five minutes.
The receptionist in Father Dom's office looked at me witheringly. Above her head was a large wooden crucifix. Adam had told me on my first day that it was known to weep blood if a virgin ever graduated from the mission. Nice . . . On the reception counter was a vase of dead tulips. How, uh, refreshing. I stared at them for a moment, and then turned to the woman who was sitting behind them.
'In trouble again, are we, Miss Simon?' she asked reprovingly.
I rolled my eyes. 'Yeah, something like that. Father Dom 'round?'
'Yes. Go in now,' she said dryly.
I knew my way around here by now. I walked around the desk, and into the old dude's headquarters.
'Yo, Padre, knock knock,' I said.
Father Dom was reading the bible. How ironic. I sat down in front of him.
'Won't be a moment,' he said, waving his hand at me carelessly.
'Oh, take your time,' I said airily, while quietly shredding Paul's drawing. I mean, who wanted to look at that? Father Dom certainly didn't. He's a good boy, and would be disgusted by it. I did, however, keep the message so I could prove my story.
I couldn't believe what had happened. Oh, Paul was SO GOING TO DIE AFTER THIS!!
AGAIN!!!!!!!
I mean, that picture had been nauseating. You don't want to know what it had featured, believe me. And Osbourne had seen it!
Double EW! Paul was going down in a big way . . . I would exorcise his nuts to infinity and beyond, and see how cocky he was without them! Grrrrr!
Hehehe . . .cocky. I doubt he would be very cocky at all . . .
Er, I believe it had been five minutes, uh huh.
Finally, he snapped the bible shut, and looked at me. 'What brings you here, Susannah? Have any ghost problems?'
I blinked, and calmed down a little. 'Now you mention it, Padre, yeah. In fact, a particular ghost earned me a detention today. You think you can squeeze me out of it somehow?'
He smiled. 'Well, tell me what happened first, Susannah, and then we shall see.'
'Okay,' I took a deep breath, and launched into my story. 'Well, I'm dealing with this . . . er, ghost at the moment. He's not dangerous, so I don't need any help from you, really I don't, and we certainly haven't been making out, so don't think that we have, because we really haven't, I promise, but today, he seems to have drawn a picture on my homework, and, and, I -'
'Susannah!' Father Dom practically shouted, holding up his hands, 'Stop babbling! Please, speak clearly? And slowly. I didn't catch a single WORD of that!'
Oh, God. I always talked fast when I was nervous. I went very slowly this, time, and managed to keep a cool head. 'A ghost drew a very rude picture on my homework, but I'm handling it. I had no idea that he did it, and I didn't draw it, I swear, Father,' I said slowly, looking him straight in the eye. Oh, this ghost also happens to live in my bedroom, and last night, we shared a very intense kiss that almost resulted in hot and heavy activity, but I have a lot of discipline, Father Dom. So much discipline that I didn't tell you any of that.
Like he needed to know.
He looked at me hard. 'Show me this picture, Susannah.'
I coughed. 'Er . . . you don't want to see it. I kind of ripped it up, because it was seriously grotty, man, and you know, you being a priest . . . but yeah, I saved this bit.' I passed him the slip of paper.
' "You know you want me",' he read out, his mouth crooked on one side. 'What does it mean? Susannah, how young is this ghost?'
CRAP! Oh, I didn't realize that this was going to happen! I shouldn't have showed him the message, of course he was going to ask questions!
'Uh . . . ' Oh joy, I was blushing.
'Susannah,' he warned, 'What aren't you telling me?'
My eyes went wide, but then I smiled. 'Nothing. This ghost is just weird. Nothing to worry about. I just don't want to get a detention because God chose to grace me with this precious gift.'
I knew that would get to him . . .
He leant his chin in his palm, and frowned. 'Okay,' he said tiredly, 'I'll sort it out. You're a lot more trouble than you're worth, you know?'
I beamed sarcastically. 'You've made my day, Padre. I mean, really.'
I got up to go, when the receptionist came in.
'Father Dominic? Are you free?' she asked, casting a look of slight contempt at me. What a bitch . . .
Father Dom nodded. 'Yes, Susannah has finished here,' he said in a tone of conclusiveness.
The receptionist turned her head to look back. 'Oh yes, because those new students, the boy and the three girls, are here with their parents.'
'The De Silvas?' Father Dominic said. 'Why, send them on in.'
She nodded and left. Something stirred in my memory . . .
De Silva . . .
Oh my God!
'Padre, what's the guy's name?' I asked quickly.
'Why . . . Jesse, I think,' he knit his eyebrows.
I blanched.
'Susannah? Are you quite all right?' he asked, concerned. I went to speak, but at that moment, there was a knock on the door.
'I got to go!' I squealed, and was out of that office in a split second, not looking anywhere. Especially not at this Jesse De Silva person, or his stinking parents.
We had a murderer in our midst . . .
~*~
I was sitting with CeeCee and Adam at lunch.
'Guys, I'm just warning you. There's this guy that's coming to the school, called Jesse De Silva. Steer clear of him, okay?' I said nervously.
'Why?' Adam said through a mouthful of spaghetti, 'He a jock?'
'No, worse,' I said.
'No, not another Adam!' CeeCee clapping her hands to her mouth mockingly. Adam made a face, his cheeks still puffing out with food.
'No, he's a murderer,' I said. They stared at me.
'Jesus, she's going all paranoid on us,' CeeCee said to Adam, who nodded and finally swallowed.
'I'm not! He killed a guy called -' I stopped. I didn't want to tell them too much, or they'd get suspicious. Especially CeeCee.
But unfortunately, Kelly Prescott was standing just across from me.
'What did you say, Suze?' she asked, arching an thin blond eyebrow that had been plucked to perfection.
'Nothing,' I said quickly.
'No, you said that the new guy, Jesse de Silva, is a murderer. Is that it?' she asked. Jeez, for someone who didn't listen to a word the teachers said in class, she had a pretty good memory. That must come with memorizing the names of all the fashion stores at the local Carmel Mall. She walked back over to her skank friends. Then, she began to whisper energetically to them. Oh, great. I didn't want to be the butt of any nasty rumours.
Oh well, he deserved it anyway.
I turned back to CeeCee and Adam. They were both arguing about CeeCee's latest column in the school newsletter, that lip-gloss should be banned. Oh course it shouldn't. Adam was right to be arguing with her. But CeeCee was way into it.
'It's distracting, to be trying to listen to a teacher, and having all the Kelly Prescotts of the class smudging dollops of oily, gross chemicals onto their lips!' she said furiously, defending her story to the death.
'Yeah, but have you seen how nice and shiny lip-gloss is, Webb? You should try wearing some.'
CeeCee momentarily blushed, but recovered promptly. 'Of course not. That would be going against my argument. But you'd know, you probably have played tongue tennis with someone who wears some, and you liked the taste, or have even worn some a couple of times!'
Adam swelled up jokily. 'You calling me a fag, Miss Webb?'
'Maybe I am,' she replied, grinning slyly.
'Want to step outside? I could take you any day!' he shouted at her, and blew her a raspberry.
'Real mature,' I commented, and he winked at me.
'I couldn't take YOU, Suze. You're too scary,' he said, and began to shake really heavily. I giggled. But he was going overboard, you know, with the trembling, until he ended it with a dramatic flop on the table, accidentally sending a plate of spaghetti flying at CeeCee.
It fell on her shiny white hair, and everyone in the area stopped, stared, and laughed. I couldn't help but smile, but Adam was cracking up totally. He fell of the bench, in stitches.
'Oh, shut up, Adam,' I said, and ditched my banana at him. It mashed into his face, and he stared at me in outrage. By now, everyone was crowding around. CeeCee was still frozen, a look of horror plastered on her face.
'What did I ever do to you, Simon?' he demanded, approaching me with a plate of ice cream.
'You wouldn't dare,' I goaded.
Yes he would. He proved that by throwing a handful at my face. It landed on my off-the-shoulder top! I glared at him, but then cracked up laughing.
'Simon got creamed!' some stupid jock yelled, and then, another roared, 'FOOD FIGHT!'
It was pandemonium in seconds. I quickly ran to escape the mess. I mean, I already had a few spots on my top, I didn't want to, you know, get drenched. So, I ducked into the girl's loo, wiped my face clean, thanking God none was in my hair, and I scrubbed my top clean. It just looked like it had a watermark now, and didn't look noticeable at all.
What luck!
I began applying a little eyeliner, because I'd just rubbed it all off, when I heard a voice.
'Ah . . . I've been looking for you, Simon.'
I looked boredly in the mirror, and saw Heather standing there, seething.
'Wait a minute, hon,' I said, 'Almost finished . . . '
'Wait a minute, my ass!' she screamed, and conveniently smashed one of the toilet seats. Jeez, would she just wait?!
Ah, done. I carefully pocketed the eye pencil, and turned to her. 'Okay, what do you want?'
'What do you think I want?!' she shrieked.
'A manicure?' I guessed blindly.
Again, she screamed, and exploded another toilet seat. I rolled my eyes. 'Please, none of the female population in the school will be able to defecate or urinate now. I hope you're really happy with your achievements, because I'm not exactly quivering in my stylish, expensive and luxurious boots, am I?'
And just for a little bit of difference, she screamed again, causing one of the cubicles to come of its hinges. I yawned, and went to walk out . . .
That was until she threw a sink at my head.
Okay, Suze is officially miffed.
'Hey, watch the merchandise!' I snapped, and dived at her, wrestling her to the ground. But, (now this was insulting,) she managed to throw me off! With her mind, of course. I smashed against the hard, cold wall, bashing the bruise that she'd generously granted me yesterday. I rebounded, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pushed her into the nearest cubicle. She fell with a splash into one of the toilets, and I saw, to my glee, that it was one that hadn't been flushed properly. I walked out of the toilet block, grinning. It had been pretty funny, seeing these little brown goopy bits dripping off of her. I know, gross, but you had to be there.
Jeez . . . I was SO going to train longer and harder with my punching bag every night . . . I was losing my touch.
I looked around the locker room. It was like, totally deserted. Oh, it sounded like the food fight was still raging on. I was still praising God that I had escaped, reasonably unscathed.
'Eeek!'
Not one of my nicer noises, no. It seemed that Heather had thrown herself at me from behind, wrapping her arms around my neck. Uh, OW?
She pulled me back, and I fell on top of her.
'You freaking bitch!' she screeched in my ear, damaging my eardrums for life, I was certain. Only, she wasn't as polite as that . . .
Hardly.
Okay, I was kind of finding it hard to breathe here? I tried elbowing her, but it I couldn't reach her properly. Then, I tried bashing her head on the ground. That worked for a second. She let go of me briefly. I scrambled up, ready to whip her butt, but I wasn't ready for when she blasted at me, and bashed my head against the wall, face first.
Ow . . .
My vision swam.
While I was still dizzy, she seized my hand, and spun me into the lockers. I tried to punch her in the stomach, but it wasn't working . . .
Not good . . .
Then, just as she was about to crack my neck, or something, this deep, smooth, totally sexy Spanish voice rang out in the locker hall.
'Hey! Leave her alone!'
I looked blearily, and . . .
Oh. My. God. What a sight for sore eyes . . .
And trust me, my eyes were really sore by then.
This total hunk was standing in the hall, looking wildly at Heather and me. Then, he came and pulled her off of me. Heather, with a snort of fury, dematerialized.
'Nombres di Dios, she's a bitch,' he commented, and then turned back to me. 'Are you okay?'
'Does it look like I'm okay?' I asked quietly.
'What'd you say?'
'Uh . . . nothing . . . '
Delicately, he helped me up. I almost collapsed again, but he caught me. 'Easy . . . Here, put your weight on me . . . That's right.'
I turned and looked at him. My God, he was hot. His eyes, they were so beautiful! Like a stormy ocean. They were dark brown, but looked almost blue. And they were those totally adorable Latino puppy eyes, you know?
His hair was like, perfect. It was kind of wavy, and curled neatly to the back of his head. It was thick and black, and smelt really, really good. I know, because he was holding me pretty closely at the moment . . .
So close, in fact, that I could feel that he had a very firm, very defined six pack, beneath that black silk tee he was wearing.
As said on Charlie's Angels . . . Oooh Barracuda!
I still felt way dizzy. He led me over to a chair that was vacantly sitting outside a classroom, and sat me down. 'Thanks,' I winced, holding my head. It was wet . . .
'You're bleeding,' he said, alarmed, and quickly buried his hand in his pocket, extracting . . .
'A hanky?' I asked, smiling in spite of myself.
He shrugged. I looked at it.
'MDS? Who's that?' I asked curiously, as he held it to my forehead.
'My mother. Margarita De Silva,' he said, coughing. God, he was hot . . .
Whoa, STOP THE TRAFFIC!
'Wait! . . . Your last name's De Silva?' I gasped, my heart clenching in panic.
'Yeah,' he said, looking politely bewildered. 'So?'
I choked, and stood up quickly, getting ready to run. 'I've got to go,' I squeaked, but instantly, a fresh wave of pain sent my head into swims. 'Oooh,' I moaned, and Jesse, for that was his name, I guessed, pulled me back down onto the chair.
'Oh, I get it,' he said, beginning to sound angry, 'So you're Susannah Simon. The one who told everyone I was a murderer.' He was now glaring at me. His eyes . . . They looked so incensed! Not good. When he was angry, he looked very dangerous . . . even more dangerous than Paul . . . and that's saying something. In fact, he had a tiny scar on his forehead that even seemed to be glaring at me. It had gone slightly white.
What could I do? I couldn't move, because of what that bitch had done to my head, so I certainly couldn't get away from him. I mean, who wants to be too near to alleged killers, despite their sizzling hotness?
'You are a murderer,' I glared back at him. 'I know your secret . . . '
Jesse looked at me hard with those intense, Latino eyes, before sighing. 'I assume you've met Paul then, querida?'
My glare changed to a confused frown. 'Huh? Uh . . . what did you call me?' I demanded quickly.
He looked annoyed with himself. 'Um, nothing, sorry.'
'But yeah,' I said. 'I've met him, I mean . . . He told me that you killed him.' I said the word "killed" with narrowed, suspicious eyes.
Jesse stood up, and looked around. 'Okay, I admit it, I did. But I bet he didn't tell you the whole story, did he?'
I stared at him, still holding his hanky to my bleeding forehead. 'Oh? Well, you mind filling me in?'
He opened his mouth to speak, but the siren rang out, and instantly, a group of girls rushed into the locker room, on their way to the toilet to repair the damage, having been heavily targeted in the food fight, by the looks of it. They were all balling their lungs out. I saw that Kelly Prescott was among them, and had a large amount of mayonnaise and custard on her, and a huge meaty stain on the back of her skirt, where someone had obviously treated her backside to a meat pie. I snorted, as the girls ran by me and Jesse, screaming. They completely ignored him, which was very rare indeed. I looked up at him, and say that he was looking at them, astonished.
'Nice school,' he commented, looking slightly dazed. 'It seems that there is more than enough food to go round. I won't starve, will I?'
Again, I gave an unfeminine snort. I stood up, as people started to flood in. 'Well, when can I hear your version of events?' I asked.
He thought for a second. 'Well . . . meet me here after school.'
I blinked uncertainly. This was a possible murderer. Did I want to meet him anywhere?
Yes. I was a mediator, and I had to find out what was going on. It was my job, despite the danger.
'Okay,' I said finally, and he smiled slightly.
'Good. You have the wrong idea. Believe me, I'm not cold blooded, I promise you, querida.'
There he was again with that weird word thingie.
'Hey,' I snapped, 'Don't call me anything. What is that, Italian?'
'Spanish,' he said.
Oh that's right . . .
'Will you be okay?' he asked. I pulled the hanky from my head, and found that it had stopped bleeding. I went to give it back to him, but he wrinkled his nose and said, 'Er, you can keep it.'
I grinned. 'Sorry.' I pocketed it, and went on my way. I could feel his gaze on me . . .
What was I DOING?! He'd killed Paul, he'd even admitted it! I shouldn't have even been talking to him, let alone meeting him. Paul would crucify me if he found out I'd been fraternizing with the guy who had killed him!
Oh, he wouldn't even hesitate, I was sure of that . . .
But something about this Jesse guy . . . I dunno, it made me trust him. It was like I knew him already, and that made me believe that he was telling the truth.
(A/N: How ironic . . . )
I don't know. It was weird, but somehow, I knew I had to trust him if I was ever going to figure this out, and get Paul to move on.
And boy, did I want him out of my life . . .
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That's all, folks! (Very bad imitation of Bugs Bunny, there . . .) But yeah. REVIEW, all of you, or no next chapter for ages. I gotta tell you, I'm going on HOLIDAY real soon, but if you're all very nice, and you review lots, I'll see if I can write all the other chapters and randomly post them while I'm in Sydney. Please?! *Puppy eyes?* But thanks for all the reviews so far! You've got me checking them twice a day, and there's always more! Your advice is always welcome, and if you have any suggestions or requests, don't hesitate, and I'll do my best to answer them in the chapters as clearly as I can.
BYE!
Preview:
(Paul's POV)
'Have you ever handled a gun, Heather?' I asked, grinning slyly at her . . .
AND!
(Suze's POV) In Jesse De Silva's bedroom.
(DON'T GET IDEAS!!!!)
His face slowly moved down towards mine. I was breathing very fast now . . . What was he doing? What was *I* doing? Why did this seem so wrong and so right at the same time?
. . . And he kissed me . . .
AND maybe!
'Just visualize a long, foggy hallway, with a galaxy of stars above,' Paul whispered, squeezing my hand . . .
(These are not quotes from the chapter. The sentences may be a little different, but can you guess what might be happening in the 1 / 2 chapters to come? Hehehe.)
Love Princess Roxanne.
YOU ROCK! You know that, right, keep reviewing, and I'll keep updating.
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Suze's POV.
Oooh, I was in trouble! I hadn't gotten my homework finished last night. I woke up with a start at six o'clock, and ran to my desk. Okay, algebra, algebra. Shouldn't be too difficult, right?
Er, it would be easier if I could find my papers . . .
Nothing was on my desk.
Then, I turned to my bag, and realized that it had all like, been packed in neatly. Huh? I thought I fell asleep? Oh well, maybe Andy came in and put it away for me. He sometimes did that.
I found my maths sheet without trouble. But . . .
What the hell?
All the answers were smartly filled in, in handwriting that I didn't recognize. I stared. Andy wouldn't have done THAT. And then I remembered . . . hadn't I fallen asleep on the desk, just as I got the sheet out?
How did I get to my bed?
WHAT WAS GOING ON HERE?!
Shaking my head, I slipped all the papers back into my file. Oh well, at least I didn't have to do maths, right? I decided to go have a long, hot shower. They cure everything. You can just stand under the steaming hot water as it falls on your body, and wash away all your thoughts as well as all your grime.
But yeah.
And of course I like, wore my bikini. I was even more sure of that now, after Paul's latest er . . . episode. I was seriously going to have to do something about that guy. But what? I couldn't tell Father Dom about him, because I don't know if he'd survive, after the whole exorcism thing. But hey, I couldn't just let things go on the way they were.
And I hated being called Susie! RAH!
After a shower that was sure to send Carmel into a drought, I dragged myself out, and went back to bed for ten minutes, until I heard my mum calling for me to get up. I jumped into some comfy black slacks that flared at the bottom, and put on this low cut, red off-the-shoulder top. Then, I put this totally cute red flower in my hair.
Nice . . .
Time to make someone cry, Suze.
~*~
How boring . . .
I was sitting in a desk next to CeeCee in Calculus. She was staring dreamily at Adam, who was trying to flick a spitball at Mr Osbourne, the teacher. Bad idea. Mrs Osbourne was this middle-aged, scrawny guy, who could not take a joke if it was handed to him with a billion-dollar check. So it wasn't the brightest idea Adam's had, but who was I to tell him to stop?
The class was almost over. It was recess next.
'Now, I'm going to collect your homework sheets, people,' he sniffed, his phlegm rattling in his throat. He was one of those guys who had a killer moustache that he'd never shave off. He was starting to bald, too. It wasn't a good look. Everyone felt weird around him, because . . . well, no offense, but the guy was a huge freak of nature with no prospect for a future except to teach some cocky-ass kids about the values of x and y. I mean, what kind of a life is that?
'I'm calling you up to make sure that you've done it,' he said snottily, wiping his bulbous nose with his sleeve. I made a revolted face at CeeCee, who grinned. 'Lunch time detentions for those miss-fortunate mutants who were foolish enough to forget their algebra.'
'Brad Ackerman.'
Dopey sauntered up smugly. In his fist, he held his sheet. I knew for a fact that the handwriting on his page belonged to Doc. Oh, I would get him back later for it, the pig . . .
The list went on. Mr Osbourne called Becky Seymour up just before me, who informed him that her dog really HAD eaten her homework, and she had a note to prove it, but Mr Osbourne smirked at her, and issued her with a detention slip.
'Susannah Simon,' he leered at me.
I nervously got up. Oh, who ever had filled in my answers had better have gotten them right, or Mr Osbourne would give me detention anyway.
'Well, this is a pleasant surprise,' he smiled toothily, his moustache twitching in mirth, 'Susannah has finished her homework, class. I think that this deserves applause.
Obligingly, everyone clapped, and Dopey guffawed with all his jock friends. I glared at him, and was about to go sit down, when something caught my eye.
Oh. My. God.
Instantly, I snatched the algebraic sheet off him, horrified. Only now, I had seen what was on the back. Oh my God, oh my freakin' GOD!
EW!!!
On there was a picture of . . . well, I won't even say, suffice it to say that it was definitely R rated, and sexually orientated. I mean, it was a good drawing, but YUCK! Then, there was a message.
"YOU KNOW YOU WANT ME."
I was appalled. Now I knew who'd done my homework.
Paul.
Of course.
I couldn't believe that I'd been so close to handing this in!
'Miss Simon?'
Mr Osbourne was looking at me strangely. 'Miss Simon, I never knew that applause had that affect on you. Please submit your homework. NOW.'
I must have looked seriously weird, because he was like, 'Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost.'
Ha . . . you have no idea, pal . . .
'I - I - I'm fine,' I choked, and hid the paper behind my back, folding it.
'Your homework then?' he said, raising an eyebrow.
I felt like I was about to hyperventilate.
'You know?' I said squeakily, 'I think that I left it on my desk at hoe. I mean home! How funny is that?!' I began laughing breathlessly.
His face contorted slightly. 'Miss Simon, I just saw the sheet. It was filled in, so I don't know why you are refusing to -'
That was when it was snatched out of my hand from behind.
'Here, Mr O,' Dopey said triumphantly, handing it to him. I tried to swipe it out of his hand, but no go. Dopey held me back as my teacher went to unfold the forbidden page.
'Don't open it!' I screamed. Everyone was staring at me like I was a psycho freak.
My heart stopped beating, as I watched how he reacted. First his eyes bulged . . . Then, he blinked a number of times in sequence, raising his eyebrows. Then, the dude like, totally blushed. Oh, how embarrassing . . . And then he half smiled for a second!
HOLY CRAP!
And after long last, the anger came.
'Miss Simon!' he said in outrage, stuffing the paper into his pocket. I was shaking my head. I felt very numb all of a sudden . . .
'I swear, man, I SO didn't draw that!' I said insistently.
His eyes were still bugging out of their sockets. 'Take this to the headmaster's office, and explain to him the meaning of this!'
'What was on it?' chorused the class.
'Shut your pie holes!' Mr Osbourne roared at them, and they all fell quiet.
'B-But-'
'No buts. Get out of my class, Susannah. This is a disgrace.' He handed me the crumpled sheet of paper. Dopey tried to grab it off of me, but I'm stronger than the bloke, okay? Mr Osbourne gave him a lunch time detention, which lightened the mood a little.
But what would I say to Father Dominic?
Merciful Zeus, did that just happen?
(A/N: Giles . . . ^_^)
Oh yes. Why did I feel so deadened?
Shock. It was shock. Trust me, when I recovered myself, I was going to be FURIOUS. Just . . . just gimme five minutes.
The receptionist in Father Dom's office looked at me witheringly. Above her head was a large wooden crucifix. Adam had told me on my first day that it was known to weep blood if a virgin ever graduated from the mission. Nice . . . On the reception counter was a vase of dead tulips. How, uh, refreshing. I stared at them for a moment, and then turned to the woman who was sitting behind them.
'In trouble again, are we, Miss Simon?' she asked reprovingly.
I rolled my eyes. 'Yeah, something like that. Father Dom 'round?'
'Yes. Go in now,' she said dryly.
I knew my way around here by now. I walked around the desk, and into the old dude's headquarters.
'Yo, Padre, knock knock,' I said.
Father Dom was reading the bible. How ironic. I sat down in front of him.
'Won't be a moment,' he said, waving his hand at me carelessly.
'Oh, take your time,' I said airily, while quietly shredding Paul's drawing. I mean, who wanted to look at that? Father Dom certainly didn't. He's a good boy, and would be disgusted by it. I did, however, keep the message so I could prove my story.
I couldn't believe what had happened. Oh, Paul was SO GOING TO DIE AFTER THIS!!
AGAIN!!!!!!!
I mean, that picture had been nauseating. You don't want to know what it had featured, believe me. And Osbourne had seen it!
Double EW! Paul was going down in a big way . . . I would exorcise his nuts to infinity and beyond, and see how cocky he was without them! Grrrrr!
Hehehe . . .cocky. I doubt he would be very cocky at all . . .
Er, I believe it had been five minutes, uh huh.
Finally, he snapped the bible shut, and looked at me. 'What brings you here, Susannah? Have any ghost problems?'
I blinked, and calmed down a little. 'Now you mention it, Padre, yeah. In fact, a particular ghost earned me a detention today. You think you can squeeze me out of it somehow?'
He smiled. 'Well, tell me what happened first, Susannah, and then we shall see.'
'Okay,' I took a deep breath, and launched into my story. 'Well, I'm dealing with this . . . er, ghost at the moment. He's not dangerous, so I don't need any help from you, really I don't, and we certainly haven't been making out, so don't think that we have, because we really haven't, I promise, but today, he seems to have drawn a picture on my homework, and, and, I -'
'Susannah!' Father Dom practically shouted, holding up his hands, 'Stop babbling! Please, speak clearly? And slowly. I didn't catch a single WORD of that!'
Oh, God. I always talked fast when I was nervous. I went very slowly this, time, and managed to keep a cool head. 'A ghost drew a very rude picture on my homework, but I'm handling it. I had no idea that he did it, and I didn't draw it, I swear, Father,' I said slowly, looking him straight in the eye. Oh, this ghost also happens to live in my bedroom, and last night, we shared a very intense kiss that almost resulted in hot and heavy activity, but I have a lot of discipline, Father Dom. So much discipline that I didn't tell you any of that.
Like he needed to know.
He looked at me hard. 'Show me this picture, Susannah.'
I coughed. 'Er . . . you don't want to see it. I kind of ripped it up, because it was seriously grotty, man, and you know, you being a priest . . . but yeah, I saved this bit.' I passed him the slip of paper.
' "You know you want me",' he read out, his mouth crooked on one side. 'What does it mean? Susannah, how young is this ghost?'
CRAP! Oh, I didn't realize that this was going to happen! I shouldn't have showed him the message, of course he was going to ask questions!
'Uh . . . ' Oh joy, I was blushing.
'Susannah,' he warned, 'What aren't you telling me?'
My eyes went wide, but then I smiled. 'Nothing. This ghost is just weird. Nothing to worry about. I just don't want to get a detention because God chose to grace me with this precious gift.'
I knew that would get to him . . .
He leant his chin in his palm, and frowned. 'Okay,' he said tiredly, 'I'll sort it out. You're a lot more trouble than you're worth, you know?'
I beamed sarcastically. 'You've made my day, Padre. I mean, really.'
I got up to go, when the receptionist came in.
'Father Dominic? Are you free?' she asked, casting a look of slight contempt at me. What a bitch . . .
Father Dom nodded. 'Yes, Susannah has finished here,' he said in a tone of conclusiveness.
The receptionist turned her head to look back. 'Oh yes, because those new students, the boy and the three girls, are here with their parents.'
'The De Silvas?' Father Dominic said. 'Why, send them on in.'
She nodded and left. Something stirred in my memory . . .
De Silva . . .
Oh my God!
'Padre, what's the guy's name?' I asked quickly.
'Why . . . Jesse, I think,' he knit his eyebrows.
I blanched.
'Susannah? Are you quite all right?' he asked, concerned. I went to speak, but at that moment, there was a knock on the door.
'I got to go!' I squealed, and was out of that office in a split second, not looking anywhere. Especially not at this Jesse De Silva person, or his stinking parents.
We had a murderer in our midst . . .
~*~
I was sitting with CeeCee and Adam at lunch.
'Guys, I'm just warning you. There's this guy that's coming to the school, called Jesse De Silva. Steer clear of him, okay?' I said nervously.
'Why?' Adam said through a mouthful of spaghetti, 'He a jock?'
'No, worse,' I said.
'No, not another Adam!' CeeCee clapping her hands to her mouth mockingly. Adam made a face, his cheeks still puffing out with food.
'No, he's a murderer,' I said. They stared at me.
'Jesus, she's going all paranoid on us,' CeeCee said to Adam, who nodded and finally swallowed.
'I'm not! He killed a guy called -' I stopped. I didn't want to tell them too much, or they'd get suspicious. Especially CeeCee.
But unfortunately, Kelly Prescott was standing just across from me.
'What did you say, Suze?' she asked, arching an thin blond eyebrow that had been plucked to perfection.
'Nothing,' I said quickly.
'No, you said that the new guy, Jesse de Silva, is a murderer. Is that it?' she asked. Jeez, for someone who didn't listen to a word the teachers said in class, she had a pretty good memory. That must come with memorizing the names of all the fashion stores at the local Carmel Mall. She walked back over to her skank friends. Then, she began to whisper energetically to them. Oh, great. I didn't want to be the butt of any nasty rumours.
Oh well, he deserved it anyway.
I turned back to CeeCee and Adam. They were both arguing about CeeCee's latest column in the school newsletter, that lip-gloss should be banned. Oh course it shouldn't. Adam was right to be arguing with her. But CeeCee was way into it.
'It's distracting, to be trying to listen to a teacher, and having all the Kelly Prescotts of the class smudging dollops of oily, gross chemicals onto their lips!' she said furiously, defending her story to the death.
'Yeah, but have you seen how nice and shiny lip-gloss is, Webb? You should try wearing some.'
CeeCee momentarily blushed, but recovered promptly. 'Of course not. That would be going against my argument. But you'd know, you probably have played tongue tennis with someone who wears some, and you liked the taste, or have even worn some a couple of times!'
Adam swelled up jokily. 'You calling me a fag, Miss Webb?'
'Maybe I am,' she replied, grinning slyly.
'Want to step outside? I could take you any day!' he shouted at her, and blew her a raspberry.
'Real mature,' I commented, and he winked at me.
'I couldn't take YOU, Suze. You're too scary,' he said, and began to shake really heavily. I giggled. But he was going overboard, you know, with the trembling, until he ended it with a dramatic flop on the table, accidentally sending a plate of spaghetti flying at CeeCee.
It fell on her shiny white hair, and everyone in the area stopped, stared, and laughed. I couldn't help but smile, but Adam was cracking up totally. He fell of the bench, in stitches.
'Oh, shut up, Adam,' I said, and ditched my banana at him. It mashed into his face, and he stared at me in outrage. By now, everyone was crowding around. CeeCee was still frozen, a look of horror plastered on her face.
'What did I ever do to you, Simon?' he demanded, approaching me with a plate of ice cream.
'You wouldn't dare,' I goaded.
Yes he would. He proved that by throwing a handful at my face. It landed on my off-the-shoulder top! I glared at him, but then cracked up laughing.
'Simon got creamed!' some stupid jock yelled, and then, another roared, 'FOOD FIGHT!'
It was pandemonium in seconds. I quickly ran to escape the mess. I mean, I already had a few spots on my top, I didn't want to, you know, get drenched. So, I ducked into the girl's loo, wiped my face clean, thanking God none was in my hair, and I scrubbed my top clean. It just looked like it had a watermark now, and didn't look noticeable at all.
What luck!
I began applying a little eyeliner, because I'd just rubbed it all off, when I heard a voice.
'Ah . . . I've been looking for you, Simon.'
I looked boredly in the mirror, and saw Heather standing there, seething.
'Wait a minute, hon,' I said, 'Almost finished . . . '
'Wait a minute, my ass!' she screamed, and conveniently smashed one of the toilet seats. Jeez, would she just wait?!
Ah, done. I carefully pocketed the eye pencil, and turned to her. 'Okay, what do you want?'
'What do you think I want?!' she shrieked.
'A manicure?' I guessed blindly.
Again, she screamed, and exploded another toilet seat. I rolled my eyes. 'Please, none of the female population in the school will be able to defecate or urinate now. I hope you're really happy with your achievements, because I'm not exactly quivering in my stylish, expensive and luxurious boots, am I?'
And just for a little bit of difference, she screamed again, causing one of the cubicles to come of its hinges. I yawned, and went to walk out . . .
That was until she threw a sink at my head.
Okay, Suze is officially miffed.
'Hey, watch the merchandise!' I snapped, and dived at her, wrestling her to the ground. But, (now this was insulting,) she managed to throw me off! With her mind, of course. I smashed against the hard, cold wall, bashing the bruise that she'd generously granted me yesterday. I rebounded, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pushed her into the nearest cubicle. She fell with a splash into one of the toilets, and I saw, to my glee, that it was one that hadn't been flushed properly. I walked out of the toilet block, grinning. It had been pretty funny, seeing these little brown goopy bits dripping off of her. I know, gross, but you had to be there.
Jeez . . . I was SO going to train longer and harder with my punching bag every night . . . I was losing my touch.
I looked around the locker room. It was like, totally deserted. Oh, it sounded like the food fight was still raging on. I was still praising God that I had escaped, reasonably unscathed.
'Eeek!'
Not one of my nicer noises, no. It seemed that Heather had thrown herself at me from behind, wrapping her arms around my neck. Uh, OW?
She pulled me back, and I fell on top of her.
'You freaking bitch!' she screeched in my ear, damaging my eardrums for life, I was certain. Only, she wasn't as polite as that . . .
Hardly.
Okay, I was kind of finding it hard to breathe here? I tried elbowing her, but it I couldn't reach her properly. Then, I tried bashing her head on the ground. That worked for a second. She let go of me briefly. I scrambled up, ready to whip her butt, but I wasn't ready for when she blasted at me, and bashed my head against the wall, face first.
Ow . . .
My vision swam.
While I was still dizzy, she seized my hand, and spun me into the lockers. I tried to punch her in the stomach, but it wasn't working . . .
Not good . . .
Then, just as she was about to crack my neck, or something, this deep, smooth, totally sexy Spanish voice rang out in the locker hall.
'Hey! Leave her alone!'
I looked blearily, and . . .
Oh. My. God. What a sight for sore eyes . . .
And trust me, my eyes were really sore by then.
This total hunk was standing in the hall, looking wildly at Heather and me. Then, he came and pulled her off of me. Heather, with a snort of fury, dematerialized.
'Nombres di Dios, she's a bitch,' he commented, and then turned back to me. 'Are you okay?'
'Does it look like I'm okay?' I asked quietly.
'What'd you say?'
'Uh . . . nothing . . . '
Delicately, he helped me up. I almost collapsed again, but he caught me. 'Easy . . . Here, put your weight on me . . . That's right.'
I turned and looked at him. My God, he was hot. His eyes, they were so beautiful! Like a stormy ocean. They were dark brown, but looked almost blue. And they were those totally adorable Latino puppy eyes, you know?
His hair was like, perfect. It was kind of wavy, and curled neatly to the back of his head. It was thick and black, and smelt really, really good. I know, because he was holding me pretty closely at the moment . . .
So close, in fact, that I could feel that he had a very firm, very defined six pack, beneath that black silk tee he was wearing.
As said on Charlie's Angels . . . Oooh Barracuda!
I still felt way dizzy. He led me over to a chair that was vacantly sitting outside a classroom, and sat me down. 'Thanks,' I winced, holding my head. It was wet . . .
'You're bleeding,' he said, alarmed, and quickly buried his hand in his pocket, extracting . . .
'A hanky?' I asked, smiling in spite of myself.
He shrugged. I looked at it.
'MDS? Who's that?' I asked curiously, as he held it to my forehead.
'My mother. Margarita De Silva,' he said, coughing. God, he was hot . . .
Whoa, STOP THE TRAFFIC!
'Wait! . . . Your last name's De Silva?' I gasped, my heart clenching in panic.
'Yeah,' he said, looking politely bewildered. 'So?'
I choked, and stood up quickly, getting ready to run. 'I've got to go,' I squeaked, but instantly, a fresh wave of pain sent my head into swims. 'Oooh,' I moaned, and Jesse, for that was his name, I guessed, pulled me back down onto the chair.
'Oh, I get it,' he said, beginning to sound angry, 'So you're Susannah Simon. The one who told everyone I was a murderer.' He was now glaring at me. His eyes . . . They looked so incensed! Not good. When he was angry, he looked very dangerous . . . even more dangerous than Paul . . . and that's saying something. In fact, he had a tiny scar on his forehead that even seemed to be glaring at me. It had gone slightly white.
What could I do? I couldn't move, because of what that bitch had done to my head, so I certainly couldn't get away from him. I mean, who wants to be too near to alleged killers, despite their sizzling hotness?
'You are a murderer,' I glared back at him. 'I know your secret . . . '
Jesse looked at me hard with those intense, Latino eyes, before sighing. 'I assume you've met Paul then, querida?'
My glare changed to a confused frown. 'Huh? Uh . . . what did you call me?' I demanded quickly.
He looked annoyed with himself. 'Um, nothing, sorry.'
'But yeah,' I said. 'I've met him, I mean . . . He told me that you killed him.' I said the word "killed" with narrowed, suspicious eyes.
Jesse stood up, and looked around. 'Okay, I admit it, I did. But I bet he didn't tell you the whole story, did he?'
I stared at him, still holding his hanky to my bleeding forehead. 'Oh? Well, you mind filling me in?'
He opened his mouth to speak, but the siren rang out, and instantly, a group of girls rushed into the locker room, on their way to the toilet to repair the damage, having been heavily targeted in the food fight, by the looks of it. They were all balling their lungs out. I saw that Kelly Prescott was among them, and had a large amount of mayonnaise and custard on her, and a huge meaty stain on the back of her skirt, where someone had obviously treated her backside to a meat pie. I snorted, as the girls ran by me and Jesse, screaming. They completely ignored him, which was very rare indeed. I looked up at him, and say that he was looking at them, astonished.
'Nice school,' he commented, looking slightly dazed. 'It seems that there is more than enough food to go round. I won't starve, will I?'
Again, I gave an unfeminine snort. I stood up, as people started to flood in. 'Well, when can I hear your version of events?' I asked.
He thought for a second. 'Well . . . meet me here after school.'
I blinked uncertainly. This was a possible murderer. Did I want to meet him anywhere?
Yes. I was a mediator, and I had to find out what was going on. It was my job, despite the danger.
'Okay,' I said finally, and he smiled slightly.
'Good. You have the wrong idea. Believe me, I'm not cold blooded, I promise you, querida.'
There he was again with that weird word thingie.
'Hey,' I snapped, 'Don't call me anything. What is that, Italian?'
'Spanish,' he said.
Oh that's right . . .
'Will you be okay?' he asked. I pulled the hanky from my head, and found that it had stopped bleeding. I went to give it back to him, but he wrinkled his nose and said, 'Er, you can keep it.'
I grinned. 'Sorry.' I pocketed it, and went on my way. I could feel his gaze on me . . .
What was I DOING?! He'd killed Paul, he'd even admitted it! I shouldn't have even been talking to him, let alone meeting him. Paul would crucify me if he found out I'd been fraternizing with the guy who had killed him!
Oh, he wouldn't even hesitate, I was sure of that . . .
But something about this Jesse guy . . . I dunno, it made me trust him. It was like I knew him already, and that made me believe that he was telling the truth.
(A/N: How ironic . . . )
I don't know. It was weird, but somehow, I knew I had to trust him if I was ever going to figure this out, and get Paul to move on.
And boy, did I want him out of my life . . .
**************************************************************************** ***********
That's all, folks! (Very bad imitation of Bugs Bunny, there . . .) But yeah. REVIEW, all of you, or no next chapter for ages. I gotta tell you, I'm going on HOLIDAY real soon, but if you're all very nice, and you review lots, I'll see if I can write all the other chapters and randomly post them while I'm in Sydney. Please?! *Puppy eyes?* But thanks for all the reviews so far! You've got me checking them twice a day, and there's always more! Your advice is always welcome, and if you have any suggestions or requests, don't hesitate, and I'll do my best to answer them in the chapters as clearly as I can.
BYE!
Preview:
(Paul's POV)
'Have you ever handled a gun, Heather?' I asked, grinning slyly at her . . .
AND!
(Suze's POV) In Jesse De Silva's bedroom.
(DON'T GET IDEAS!!!!)
His face slowly moved down towards mine. I was breathing very fast now . . . What was he doing? What was *I* doing? Why did this seem so wrong and so right at the same time?
. . . And he kissed me . . .
AND maybe!
'Just visualize a long, foggy hallway, with a galaxy of stars above,' Paul whispered, squeezing my hand . . .
(These are not quotes from the chapter. The sentences may be a little different, but can you guess what might be happening in the 1 / 2 chapters to come? Hehehe.)
Love Princess Roxanne.