"Hello, anybody home?" I called, setting my bag down on the couch. I heard
muffled noises coming from the kitchen, and a pleasant smell wafted to my
nose. I grinned—despite my crappy life at school, my home life was pretty
decent. I quickly walked into the kitchen to find my mom stirring something
at the stove and my older brother, Danny, doing homework at the table.
"Lark," my mother said, turning around. "What on earth took you so long?"
I glanced at my watch. "Mom, I'm only five minutes later than usual. I missed my bus."
Danny started laughing loudly and I glared at him as I sat down at the scrubbed wooden table. "Shut up. I got a ride from Chris."
My mom grinned and clucked her tongue. I rolled my eyes. "He's such a nice boy!" she said, coming over to the table. "I haven't seen much of him lately. You two in a fight or something?"
I stole some of Danny's chips and shook my head. "No. And mom, he was here last week."
"Oh, I know!" she exclaimed, returning back to her cooking. "But he used to be here almost everyday!"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I guess things are changing."
Danny snorted. His dark hair stood on end and his brown eyes were full of amusement. I hated when he got like this—all stupid and immature, teasing me constantly. "He just doesn't have time for you. Maybe if you brushed your hair once in awhile..."
I swatted his nose and crossed my arms. "My hair is fine, thank you!"
"Oh darling," my mother cooed. "Of course it is. I notice you're wearing that ribbon more often."
I blushed and looked away. So what if I wasn't totally girly? I put a ribbon in my hair and POOF! The whole world is crumbling around me. I laughed at the image then grabbed my stuff. "I have homework. Good bye family."
~*~*~
The solitude of my bedroom always confined my darkest moods. I didn't mind my family, really. But sometimes it was nice to pretend to be an only child. I always envied Mary Louise. She was an only child and got almost everything she ever wanted. In my family, it was Danny, me, then Lucy who was fourteen. Then Phoebe who was ten and the baby of the family was Teeny at five. It got on my nerves not having money like other families—my dad worked so hard to take care of us, but my mom hadn't had a job in forever, staying home to take care of the kids. I guess I had a lot to be grateful for...but still.
Opening my English book, I set to doing my essay, but my mind just couldn't concentrate. I often zoned out, just getting lost in my thoughts. I liked thinking—I could make anything happen in my thoughts. In my thoughts, I was taller and thinner, with long, silky straight hair and big, blue eyes instead of my boring brown eyes. In my thoughts I was dainty, and smelled like roses. I'm not saying I smelled bad, but in my thoughts I was like a flower. My laugh was like a tinkle in my thoughts, instead of the dry laugh it was. Instead of hand-me-down jeans and black and green striped T-shirts, I wore pretty sweaters and blouses, and freshly pressed skirts. In my thoughts, I wore pink lipstick and my eyes were eye-shadowed. In my thoughts my nails were always painted instead of chipped. In my thoughts I wore pearls instead of vintage jewelry I found in my mom's trunk. In my thoughts...Chris was holding my hand and laughing with me and he thought I was the most beautiful girl ever.
In my thoughts...
But in real life I was totally the opposite. I wasn't dainty and petite; I was your average girl. My hair may have been pretty to some, with its curls and whatnot, but it got on my nerves. I usually just wore it pulled to the side in a half sort of thing, with some of it down, and a ribbon in it. I never wore jewelry save for my moms cool bracelets and long earrings I found sometimes. I hardly ever wore makeup, maybe on picture day or for some special occasion, but other than that I found it annoying. I owned no nice clothes—my daily apparel consisted of a striped fitted T-shirt and hand-me-down faded jeans, usually sizes too big for me. My nails were always chipped with old nail polish, and I didn't laugh all sweet and whatnot. I just laughed—loud and sometimes obnoxiously. I didn't smell like roses, more like nothing. No, I didn't smell like anything. I smelled clean, that was it. But it's hard to smell yourself I guess. My eyes were boring brown. They weren't even a pretty brown—they were chocolate brown or coffee brown. No, more like dead-leaves brown. I guess the guys only valued my friendship because I listened more than I talked. And I gave them advice on girls because that was the only thing I knew—what it'd be like for a guy to like me as a girl and not just another pal to stuff your face with candy.
I didn't care about my appearance as much as other girls cared about theirs. I suppose it was partly because of my friends being all guys. Gordie, Chris, Teddy, Vern. They weren't exactly experts on girls' feelings. More like what the girl would do that night. Mary Louise would occasionally give me some advice, but I didn't ask. I didn't want to—perhaps I was too embarrassed? I would probably never know.
I didn't know if I fell asleep thinking about what I wanted to look like or if I had fallen asleep after I was finished my homework. But no sooner had I thought I was just sitting on my bed, taking a nap, I was being woken up by a soft tapping at my window. I was alarmed when I fluttered my eyes open that everything was dark. How long had I been asleep? I hated falling asleep during the day—it threw me all off wack. The tapping persisted, and I tentatively crawled over to my window. I was surprised to find Chris' face looking at me anxiously; his body perched cautiously on the oak tree that was right beside my window. This wasn't the first time Chris had used that tree to climb up to my window—but he hadn't done it since the ninth grade, when his father got so bad he had broken Chris' arm. I could only think how bad it was this time...
I quickly opened the window and the cold air blew in my face. "Jesus, Chris, get in here! It's freezing outside."
I helped him climb in, and I noticed his hair was even more unkempt then usual. He had a bloody lip and his shirt was torn. My heart immediately melted.
"Come here," I whispered, grabbing his hand and sitting him down on my bed. "You're trembling. Why?"
Chris, indeed, was shaking like mad. I knew it was cold outside...how long had Chris been out there? I touched my fingers gently to his face and made a sharp intake of breath.
"Chris, you're ice," I said. He looked up at me sadly.
"I—I—my dad..." he trailed off. His voice was scratchy and unsteady. I quickly rummaged threw my hamper and found a spare sweatshirt. I threw it to him and he quickly pulled it on right overtop his windbreaker.
"Chris, what happened?" I asked. I sat beside him and looked at him. He looked meekly at me and sighed.
"You know," he said. He touched his lip carefully and grimaced. I frowned.
"You need to clean that up. Hold on—I'll get a rag."
I left Chris on my bed to go and fetch a towel from the bathroom. When I came back in he was still sitting on my bed, looking down at the floor. I knelt down in front of him.
"Here," I said, dabbing his lip gently. He cringed but I persisted. "It's better this than it get infected later on."
Chris looked up at me with those blue eyes and I couldn't help but want to hold him in my arms. I wanted to tell him it was going to be okay—everything was going to be okay.
"I can't go back," Chris muttered. "I don't want to...and plus he locked me out."
I nodded, understanding. "You can crash here." I looked around and found a pillow thrown in the corner of my room. "You look exhausted. I'll take the floor, you can have my bed."
He shook his head. "Don't be stupid..."
"Really, I don't mind," I said, standing up briskly and to my surprise I blushed. "Er, I like the floor. Nice and...er...firm. Yeah. Firmness. Ahh."
He shook his head, grinning slightly, though it looked like it caused him pain. "Thanks Lark."
I grinned at him and set my bed up on the floor. He crawled under my covers and my heart fluttered slightly. Chris Chambers in my bed. Sure, he'd slept over plenty before. But it just felt different now—suppose teenage hormones. I shrugged off the feeling and laid to sleep—though I couldn't stop thinking of the tortured boy asleep above me.
~*~*~
[Hey guys! Okay, thanks so much for my reviewers! You guys...ROCK! Okay, here's to another chapter. :) Hope ya'll like it. It was a bit fluffy, I know, but hey. I can't avoid it sometimes. Ahh, well. ReVieW! Shout outs in the next chapter!]
"Lark," my mother said, turning around. "What on earth took you so long?"
I glanced at my watch. "Mom, I'm only five minutes later than usual. I missed my bus."
Danny started laughing loudly and I glared at him as I sat down at the scrubbed wooden table. "Shut up. I got a ride from Chris."
My mom grinned and clucked her tongue. I rolled my eyes. "He's such a nice boy!" she said, coming over to the table. "I haven't seen much of him lately. You two in a fight or something?"
I stole some of Danny's chips and shook my head. "No. And mom, he was here last week."
"Oh, I know!" she exclaimed, returning back to her cooking. "But he used to be here almost everyday!"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I guess things are changing."
Danny snorted. His dark hair stood on end and his brown eyes were full of amusement. I hated when he got like this—all stupid and immature, teasing me constantly. "He just doesn't have time for you. Maybe if you brushed your hair once in awhile..."
I swatted his nose and crossed my arms. "My hair is fine, thank you!"
"Oh darling," my mother cooed. "Of course it is. I notice you're wearing that ribbon more often."
I blushed and looked away. So what if I wasn't totally girly? I put a ribbon in my hair and POOF! The whole world is crumbling around me. I laughed at the image then grabbed my stuff. "I have homework. Good bye family."
~*~*~
The solitude of my bedroom always confined my darkest moods. I didn't mind my family, really. But sometimes it was nice to pretend to be an only child. I always envied Mary Louise. She was an only child and got almost everything she ever wanted. In my family, it was Danny, me, then Lucy who was fourteen. Then Phoebe who was ten and the baby of the family was Teeny at five. It got on my nerves not having money like other families—my dad worked so hard to take care of us, but my mom hadn't had a job in forever, staying home to take care of the kids. I guess I had a lot to be grateful for...but still.
Opening my English book, I set to doing my essay, but my mind just couldn't concentrate. I often zoned out, just getting lost in my thoughts. I liked thinking—I could make anything happen in my thoughts. In my thoughts, I was taller and thinner, with long, silky straight hair and big, blue eyes instead of my boring brown eyes. In my thoughts I was dainty, and smelled like roses. I'm not saying I smelled bad, but in my thoughts I was like a flower. My laugh was like a tinkle in my thoughts, instead of the dry laugh it was. Instead of hand-me-down jeans and black and green striped T-shirts, I wore pretty sweaters and blouses, and freshly pressed skirts. In my thoughts, I wore pink lipstick and my eyes were eye-shadowed. In my thoughts my nails were always painted instead of chipped. In my thoughts I wore pearls instead of vintage jewelry I found in my mom's trunk. In my thoughts...Chris was holding my hand and laughing with me and he thought I was the most beautiful girl ever.
In my thoughts...
But in real life I was totally the opposite. I wasn't dainty and petite; I was your average girl. My hair may have been pretty to some, with its curls and whatnot, but it got on my nerves. I usually just wore it pulled to the side in a half sort of thing, with some of it down, and a ribbon in it. I never wore jewelry save for my moms cool bracelets and long earrings I found sometimes. I hardly ever wore makeup, maybe on picture day or for some special occasion, but other than that I found it annoying. I owned no nice clothes—my daily apparel consisted of a striped fitted T-shirt and hand-me-down faded jeans, usually sizes too big for me. My nails were always chipped with old nail polish, and I didn't laugh all sweet and whatnot. I just laughed—loud and sometimes obnoxiously. I didn't smell like roses, more like nothing. No, I didn't smell like anything. I smelled clean, that was it. But it's hard to smell yourself I guess. My eyes were boring brown. They weren't even a pretty brown—they were chocolate brown or coffee brown. No, more like dead-leaves brown. I guess the guys only valued my friendship because I listened more than I talked. And I gave them advice on girls because that was the only thing I knew—what it'd be like for a guy to like me as a girl and not just another pal to stuff your face with candy.
I didn't care about my appearance as much as other girls cared about theirs. I suppose it was partly because of my friends being all guys. Gordie, Chris, Teddy, Vern. They weren't exactly experts on girls' feelings. More like what the girl would do that night. Mary Louise would occasionally give me some advice, but I didn't ask. I didn't want to—perhaps I was too embarrassed? I would probably never know.
I didn't know if I fell asleep thinking about what I wanted to look like or if I had fallen asleep after I was finished my homework. But no sooner had I thought I was just sitting on my bed, taking a nap, I was being woken up by a soft tapping at my window. I was alarmed when I fluttered my eyes open that everything was dark. How long had I been asleep? I hated falling asleep during the day—it threw me all off wack. The tapping persisted, and I tentatively crawled over to my window. I was surprised to find Chris' face looking at me anxiously; his body perched cautiously on the oak tree that was right beside my window. This wasn't the first time Chris had used that tree to climb up to my window—but he hadn't done it since the ninth grade, when his father got so bad he had broken Chris' arm. I could only think how bad it was this time...
I quickly opened the window and the cold air blew in my face. "Jesus, Chris, get in here! It's freezing outside."
I helped him climb in, and I noticed his hair was even more unkempt then usual. He had a bloody lip and his shirt was torn. My heart immediately melted.
"Come here," I whispered, grabbing his hand and sitting him down on my bed. "You're trembling. Why?"
Chris, indeed, was shaking like mad. I knew it was cold outside...how long had Chris been out there? I touched my fingers gently to his face and made a sharp intake of breath.
"Chris, you're ice," I said. He looked up at me sadly.
"I—I—my dad..." he trailed off. His voice was scratchy and unsteady. I quickly rummaged threw my hamper and found a spare sweatshirt. I threw it to him and he quickly pulled it on right overtop his windbreaker.
"Chris, what happened?" I asked. I sat beside him and looked at him. He looked meekly at me and sighed.
"You know," he said. He touched his lip carefully and grimaced. I frowned.
"You need to clean that up. Hold on—I'll get a rag."
I left Chris on my bed to go and fetch a towel from the bathroom. When I came back in he was still sitting on my bed, looking down at the floor. I knelt down in front of him.
"Here," I said, dabbing his lip gently. He cringed but I persisted. "It's better this than it get infected later on."
Chris looked up at me with those blue eyes and I couldn't help but want to hold him in my arms. I wanted to tell him it was going to be okay—everything was going to be okay.
"I can't go back," Chris muttered. "I don't want to...and plus he locked me out."
I nodded, understanding. "You can crash here." I looked around and found a pillow thrown in the corner of my room. "You look exhausted. I'll take the floor, you can have my bed."
He shook his head. "Don't be stupid..."
"Really, I don't mind," I said, standing up briskly and to my surprise I blushed. "Er, I like the floor. Nice and...er...firm. Yeah. Firmness. Ahh."
He shook his head, grinning slightly, though it looked like it caused him pain. "Thanks Lark."
I grinned at him and set my bed up on the floor. He crawled under my covers and my heart fluttered slightly. Chris Chambers in my bed. Sure, he'd slept over plenty before. But it just felt different now—suppose teenage hormones. I shrugged off the feeling and laid to sleep—though I couldn't stop thinking of the tortured boy asleep above me.
~*~*~
[Hey guys! Okay, thanks so much for my reviewers! You guys...ROCK! Okay, here's to another chapter. :) Hope ya'll like it. It was a bit fluffy, I know, but hey. I can't avoid it sometimes. Ahh, well. ReVieW! Shout outs in the next chapter!]