"Miss O'Rielly. What is the lateral area of the rectangle?"
I snapped my head up and looked at Mr. Jarkins nervously. I hadn't even heard the question...I quickly began racking my brain for possible answers. Five. You couldn't go wrong with Five. Everything equaled five.
"Five," I said confidently, nodding my head a bit to reassure myself. Mr. Jarkins shook his head impatiently and several people around me snickered. I blushed and sunk lower into my seat. How did I always manage to embarrass myself?
"Now really! Miss O'Rielly, have you been paying any attention to the last half hour of class?" Mr. Jarkins looked extremely aggravated. I blushed even deeper looked down to my hands.
"Err..." I managed to mutter out quietly. Mr. Jarkins glared at me and walked toward his desk, pulling open his bottom drawer.
"I suppose you'll learn with detention, eh?" He took out a pink slip and began scribbling away. I wrung my hands nervously. Great, another detention. Just one more thing I needed to deal with. Mr. Jarkins finished with my slip and threw it down on my desk. "See you at three. Now, can someone please tell me what the lateral area is?"
A blonde sitting in the first row shot her hand into the air and smirked in my direction. I glared back—I had no idea who the girl was, but she obviously had a problem with me. Lovely.
"Ahh, Miss Bradshaw!" Mr. Jarkins beamed. I shuddered. The dirty old toad. I should have known—he was just like any other male teacher...favors the blonde, the skinny, the busty. Since I was the total opposite, I usually got the bullshit.
"The lateral area is five hundred and seven," the Bradshaw chick answered smartly. Several people around her looked to her and smiled then gave me disgusted looks. I snorted and wrote down the answer quickly. In front of me I noticed Chris smiling at the girl also. My heart immediately shattered a bit...it wasn't the fact that he was smiling that smile I so wished he would smile at me, it was the fact it had to be to that girl. The girl who obviously didn't like me. How I wished so many times I could have been the girl who received *that* smile. Sure, Chris smiled at me before. But it was never that smile. That smiled where you could tell the person wanted nothing more than to kiss and hold them. No, I always got the 'smirk.' And it was really starting to bug me.
The rest of the class went by so incredibly slow. Finally, Mr. Jarkins let us talk and mingle with ten minutes left until the bell rang. I immediately took out a scrap piece of paper and began to write whatever came to mind. Whenever I had stress, I just wrote it down, whatever came to mind. Most of the time, it didn't even make sense. But it made me feel better.
"What are you writing?"
I looked up to find Chris looking down at my paper, his chair turned around. I automatically put an arm over my writing and he frowned.
"Aww, come on Lark," he whined, trying to move my arm. "Lemme see. You used to read me what you wrote all the time."
I shrugged. It was true...but those times were different. My life had been much less complicated back then, and the things I wrote were simpler. Now, I had all these mixed up feelings in me and my writing made little to no sense, but I understood them. They were my thoughts...and I didn't like sharing my thoughts. I guess I was a bit cold, and sometimes hard, but it was better than wearing my heart out on my sleeve. Something Gordie had never really been good at...
"No!" I snapped, when for the fourth time he tried to pry my arm away.
He sighed and rested his elbows on my desk. I looked up at him and smirked.
"Why not?" he asked, eyeing me suspiciously. I immediately bit my lip like I always did when I lied. I didn't want to tell Chris that my writing was mostly about him—that would probably scare him.
"Er—cause...cause it's private," I stammered. Would I ever learn how to lie? No, probably not. I was far from clever. "It's—er—I don't want you reading it!" Good, some truth. My confidence began to come back to me. "I shouldn't have to share everything with you."
Chris arched an eyebrow and his fingers slowly began to creep across the desk. I slapped them quickly and he tapped them impatiently on the desk. "Larrrrrrrrrkle," he teased, using his nickname for me. I hated it. 'Larckle.' Real original.
"Why don't you go and talk to your smut friend up there?" I snapped, flicking my eyes up to where Bradshaw sat, talking with a few of her friends. Her long, shiny blonde hair hung like silk on her shoulders and when she laughed she flicked it with her hands, making her look almost angelic.
Chris followed my gaze and saw whom I was speaking of. He raised his eyebrows at me. "Amanda Bradshaw?"
I shrugged. "I dunno."
Chris looked over at her again and smiled. "Yep, that's Amanda Bradshaw. She's so freaking smart...and not to mention really hot. Yeah, I think I will talk to her."
I looked up horrified. I wasn't serious. He couldn't talk to her! No, not her! I already held a grudge against her for giving me that cocky look—no! This couldn't be happening to me.
"I was only kidding!" I said, laughing lightly and nervously. But Chris was already distracted. He was halfway out of his seat and was looking her way.
"Amanda Bradshaw..." Chris muttered. Was he even listening to me? I began to panic. I really didn't want him talking with her. I knew the girl wouldn't have any objections—no girls had objections to Chris Chambers talking to them. I already had myself a lot of enemies for being his best friend.
"Chris, no!" My cool was gone now. Out the window, lost, dead, waving good bye to me. "Here, here's my writing!" I waved it around frantically, but he was already gone. Gone. Amanda was laughing, Chris was smiling, muttering to her...her friends were giggling. She was blushing.
I slowly placed my writing on the desk and put my head in my hands. I was having one of those feelings again...that feeling of longing, of being forgotten, of being nothing to Chris. Again, one of his flings were going to become more important to him than me.
Someone tapped my shoulder but I didn't look up. They tapped some more, and finally getting annoyed I sat up sharply and whipped my head around. Gordie stood there, grinning at me. I sighed.
"'Lo, Gordie," I muttered. He sat down in Chris' now vacant seat and I looked sadly at him.
"Awwe, what's wrong Lark?"
I sighed. Gordie was probably my only other one besides Chris that I could really confide in. He was always just there for me, and I always felt like I was never there enough for him. He had so much sadness in his life; I just wanted to make him happy.
"I hate Chris."
Gordie laughed and looked over to where Chris was now talking sweetly to Amanda. I glared at the pair of them—no doubt he was asking her out to movies or whatever.
"I think someone is just a bit jealous."
I glared at Gordie now, and he smirked. "Yeah...right. Me, jealous! Ha! As if."
Gordie shrugged and glanced at the clock. "I'm not stupid Lark."
"Yes you are," I growled, beginning to pack up my things.
"Why don't you just talk to Chris? Why don't you just let him know that you don't approve of his—erm—'pickings'?"
I laughed and tugged absentmindedly at a stray curl. "I'd sound like his mother. Besides, I don't care about Chris' love life! He could fuck the whole female population—which he probably has—and I wouldn't care!"
Gordie shrugged just as the bell began to ring. "Whatever. Don't listen to me. But I know that you care...erm...deeply about Chris."
I nudged him with my elbow, but grinned at him all the same. "If you tell a soul I will kill you."
He smirked and blessed himself with his pinky. "I swear on my mother's good name." I grinned and we both walked out of class. And I didn't look back at Chris once...well I tried not to anyway.
~*~*~
My locker wouldn't budge. It was stuck—either that or I completely forgot my combination. I stood there—long after the lunch bell had rang and just looked at my locker. I knew it wasn't accomplishing anything...but it was somewhat useful, I suppose. If I ever came across the situation where I needed to know exactly what my locker looked like, I would know every crack and line that was on it.
But it still wouldn't budge. I gave up looking at it and placed my bag on the floor. There was fifteen minutes left until lunch, and if I hurried I'd make it. I doubted whether anyone noticed I was missing—I would have just eaten right there, but my lunch was in my locker, of course.
I pulled hard on my lock, but it just would NOT unlock. What was it with my luck? Why was I so jinxed, all the time?! I heard footsteps behind me, then two people talking. I looked around and my eyes settled on Chris and none other than my favorite person in the world—Amanda. They were walking down the hall, talking and laughing. I glared at them, naturally.
Chris finally noticed me struggling with his locker, and came up. "Hey Lark."
I turned around, as if noticing them from the first time, and forced a smile. "Hey Chris." I looked to Amanda. "Hey Amanda." I may have been cold and hard, but I wasn't immature.
Amanda, however, was a different case. She looked at me as if I was a bug she wanted to squish really bad.
"Lark." She said my name curtly, and nodded. I continued to smile and returned to my locker. I pulled hard, but it just did not want to move.
"Er—Lark you need some help?" Chris asked, trying to keep a straight face. Great, I was a joke to him.
"No," I said shortly. "I'm fine."
Amanda looked at me again and then back to Chris. "I'll see you later Chris," she said, then walked away stiffly. Chris watched her go and I looked disgusted at him.
"What?" he asked innocently, moving me out of the way so he could open my locker.
I leaned against the other lockers while he fidgeted with the lock, and crossed my arms. "Oh nothing. Noooothinnnnnnngggg at all."
Chris quirked an eyebrow at me. "What is it Lark? There something wrong?"
I laughed coldly. "You know Amanda hates me right?"
Chris shrugged. "She doesn't hate you. She doesn't even know you."
"Exactly. She doesn't even know me, yet she hates me."
Chris managed to open my lock and I began to stuff my books into it. I glanced at the clock—I had five minutes until lunch. There wasn't any point going to lunch, so I snatched my bag out of my locker and sat down against the wall. Chris kneeled in front of me. I pulled out my sandwich and began eating it quickly.
"Amanda does not hate you. She's actually really sweet. I'm taking her to the movies this weekend."
I looked up at him and scoffed. "Ahh. Wait—this weekend? Chris, you know that this weekend you said you'd help me paint the garage! You promised like a million years ago!"
Chris grimaced. "Oh yeah. But—I can't just ditch Amanda! I'll help you another time Lark."
I shook my head. "No, I don't care. I'll do it by myself. Jesus Christ, Chambers."
Chris glared at me and stuffed his hands in his pockets, standing up. "You're getting all bitchy again Lark and you fucking now it's because you're jealous that I actually have a social life, unlike you who's never been on a fucking date!"
I glared at him. "Shut up Chris." It hurt so bad to have him talk to me like that, but I wouldn't cry. I never cried. It just never happened.
"It's true and you know it."
I sighed and looked away. "Listen, I really don't want to fight right now. I'll just see you after school. Listen, I have a detention, do you think you could drive me home since you always end up leaving late anyways?"
Chris rubbed his head and looked away. "Uh—I'm driving Amanda home. Sorry..."
I cried out in frustration and threw the rest of my sandwich at him. He turned and walked away, and I watched him walk away. I watched him walk away, walk away like he always did.
~*~*~
Hullo, back again! I thought I'd like to point out a few things. One: This story will be done in a somewhat vignette kind of way. And it probably won't be as many chapters as Wonder Years, however, it WILL be a full- length fic. I just thought I'd let you all know that it's a bit vignetty, poetic at times, and angsty. Two: Chapters will definitely get longer as the plot progresses. Three: This is not some fluffy, happy little fic. This story will be real and true...that's all I'm saying. I'm not spoiling the end, mainly because I'm not sure how I want it to end. But I have an idea...and it's not going to be clichéd. Well, that's all I'd like to say. Also: Thanks to my reviewers! Keep them coming. :) Love & Strawberries, The Good Girl. PS- shout outs in the next chapter or next two chapters...I like to do them every so many chapters, depending on how many reviews I get. :)
I snapped my head up and looked at Mr. Jarkins nervously. I hadn't even heard the question...I quickly began racking my brain for possible answers. Five. You couldn't go wrong with Five. Everything equaled five.
"Five," I said confidently, nodding my head a bit to reassure myself. Mr. Jarkins shook his head impatiently and several people around me snickered. I blushed and sunk lower into my seat. How did I always manage to embarrass myself?
"Now really! Miss O'Rielly, have you been paying any attention to the last half hour of class?" Mr. Jarkins looked extremely aggravated. I blushed even deeper looked down to my hands.
"Err..." I managed to mutter out quietly. Mr. Jarkins glared at me and walked toward his desk, pulling open his bottom drawer.
"I suppose you'll learn with detention, eh?" He took out a pink slip and began scribbling away. I wrung my hands nervously. Great, another detention. Just one more thing I needed to deal with. Mr. Jarkins finished with my slip and threw it down on my desk. "See you at three. Now, can someone please tell me what the lateral area is?"
A blonde sitting in the first row shot her hand into the air and smirked in my direction. I glared back—I had no idea who the girl was, but she obviously had a problem with me. Lovely.
"Ahh, Miss Bradshaw!" Mr. Jarkins beamed. I shuddered. The dirty old toad. I should have known—he was just like any other male teacher...favors the blonde, the skinny, the busty. Since I was the total opposite, I usually got the bullshit.
"The lateral area is five hundred and seven," the Bradshaw chick answered smartly. Several people around her looked to her and smiled then gave me disgusted looks. I snorted and wrote down the answer quickly. In front of me I noticed Chris smiling at the girl also. My heart immediately shattered a bit...it wasn't the fact that he was smiling that smile I so wished he would smile at me, it was the fact it had to be to that girl. The girl who obviously didn't like me. How I wished so many times I could have been the girl who received *that* smile. Sure, Chris smiled at me before. But it was never that smile. That smiled where you could tell the person wanted nothing more than to kiss and hold them. No, I always got the 'smirk.' And it was really starting to bug me.
The rest of the class went by so incredibly slow. Finally, Mr. Jarkins let us talk and mingle with ten minutes left until the bell rang. I immediately took out a scrap piece of paper and began to write whatever came to mind. Whenever I had stress, I just wrote it down, whatever came to mind. Most of the time, it didn't even make sense. But it made me feel better.
"What are you writing?"
I looked up to find Chris looking down at my paper, his chair turned around. I automatically put an arm over my writing and he frowned.
"Aww, come on Lark," he whined, trying to move my arm. "Lemme see. You used to read me what you wrote all the time."
I shrugged. It was true...but those times were different. My life had been much less complicated back then, and the things I wrote were simpler. Now, I had all these mixed up feelings in me and my writing made little to no sense, but I understood them. They were my thoughts...and I didn't like sharing my thoughts. I guess I was a bit cold, and sometimes hard, but it was better than wearing my heart out on my sleeve. Something Gordie had never really been good at...
"No!" I snapped, when for the fourth time he tried to pry my arm away.
He sighed and rested his elbows on my desk. I looked up at him and smirked.
"Why not?" he asked, eyeing me suspiciously. I immediately bit my lip like I always did when I lied. I didn't want to tell Chris that my writing was mostly about him—that would probably scare him.
"Er—cause...cause it's private," I stammered. Would I ever learn how to lie? No, probably not. I was far from clever. "It's—er—I don't want you reading it!" Good, some truth. My confidence began to come back to me. "I shouldn't have to share everything with you."
Chris arched an eyebrow and his fingers slowly began to creep across the desk. I slapped them quickly and he tapped them impatiently on the desk. "Larrrrrrrrrkle," he teased, using his nickname for me. I hated it. 'Larckle.' Real original.
"Why don't you go and talk to your smut friend up there?" I snapped, flicking my eyes up to where Bradshaw sat, talking with a few of her friends. Her long, shiny blonde hair hung like silk on her shoulders and when she laughed she flicked it with her hands, making her look almost angelic.
Chris followed my gaze and saw whom I was speaking of. He raised his eyebrows at me. "Amanda Bradshaw?"
I shrugged. "I dunno."
Chris looked over at her again and smiled. "Yep, that's Amanda Bradshaw. She's so freaking smart...and not to mention really hot. Yeah, I think I will talk to her."
I looked up horrified. I wasn't serious. He couldn't talk to her! No, not her! I already held a grudge against her for giving me that cocky look—no! This couldn't be happening to me.
"I was only kidding!" I said, laughing lightly and nervously. But Chris was already distracted. He was halfway out of his seat and was looking her way.
"Amanda Bradshaw..." Chris muttered. Was he even listening to me? I began to panic. I really didn't want him talking with her. I knew the girl wouldn't have any objections—no girls had objections to Chris Chambers talking to them. I already had myself a lot of enemies for being his best friend.
"Chris, no!" My cool was gone now. Out the window, lost, dead, waving good bye to me. "Here, here's my writing!" I waved it around frantically, but he was already gone. Gone. Amanda was laughing, Chris was smiling, muttering to her...her friends were giggling. She was blushing.
I slowly placed my writing on the desk and put my head in my hands. I was having one of those feelings again...that feeling of longing, of being forgotten, of being nothing to Chris. Again, one of his flings were going to become more important to him than me.
Someone tapped my shoulder but I didn't look up. They tapped some more, and finally getting annoyed I sat up sharply and whipped my head around. Gordie stood there, grinning at me. I sighed.
"'Lo, Gordie," I muttered. He sat down in Chris' now vacant seat and I looked sadly at him.
"Awwe, what's wrong Lark?"
I sighed. Gordie was probably my only other one besides Chris that I could really confide in. He was always just there for me, and I always felt like I was never there enough for him. He had so much sadness in his life; I just wanted to make him happy.
"I hate Chris."
Gordie laughed and looked over to where Chris was now talking sweetly to Amanda. I glared at the pair of them—no doubt he was asking her out to movies or whatever.
"I think someone is just a bit jealous."
I glared at Gordie now, and he smirked. "Yeah...right. Me, jealous! Ha! As if."
Gordie shrugged and glanced at the clock. "I'm not stupid Lark."
"Yes you are," I growled, beginning to pack up my things.
"Why don't you just talk to Chris? Why don't you just let him know that you don't approve of his—erm—'pickings'?"
I laughed and tugged absentmindedly at a stray curl. "I'd sound like his mother. Besides, I don't care about Chris' love life! He could fuck the whole female population—which he probably has—and I wouldn't care!"
Gordie shrugged just as the bell began to ring. "Whatever. Don't listen to me. But I know that you care...erm...deeply about Chris."
I nudged him with my elbow, but grinned at him all the same. "If you tell a soul I will kill you."
He smirked and blessed himself with his pinky. "I swear on my mother's good name." I grinned and we both walked out of class. And I didn't look back at Chris once...well I tried not to anyway.
~*~*~
My locker wouldn't budge. It was stuck—either that or I completely forgot my combination. I stood there—long after the lunch bell had rang and just looked at my locker. I knew it wasn't accomplishing anything...but it was somewhat useful, I suppose. If I ever came across the situation where I needed to know exactly what my locker looked like, I would know every crack and line that was on it.
But it still wouldn't budge. I gave up looking at it and placed my bag on the floor. There was fifteen minutes left until lunch, and if I hurried I'd make it. I doubted whether anyone noticed I was missing—I would have just eaten right there, but my lunch was in my locker, of course.
I pulled hard on my lock, but it just would NOT unlock. What was it with my luck? Why was I so jinxed, all the time?! I heard footsteps behind me, then two people talking. I looked around and my eyes settled on Chris and none other than my favorite person in the world—Amanda. They were walking down the hall, talking and laughing. I glared at them, naturally.
Chris finally noticed me struggling with his locker, and came up. "Hey Lark."
I turned around, as if noticing them from the first time, and forced a smile. "Hey Chris." I looked to Amanda. "Hey Amanda." I may have been cold and hard, but I wasn't immature.
Amanda, however, was a different case. She looked at me as if I was a bug she wanted to squish really bad.
"Lark." She said my name curtly, and nodded. I continued to smile and returned to my locker. I pulled hard, but it just did not want to move.
"Er—Lark you need some help?" Chris asked, trying to keep a straight face. Great, I was a joke to him.
"No," I said shortly. "I'm fine."
Amanda looked at me again and then back to Chris. "I'll see you later Chris," she said, then walked away stiffly. Chris watched her go and I looked disgusted at him.
"What?" he asked innocently, moving me out of the way so he could open my locker.
I leaned against the other lockers while he fidgeted with the lock, and crossed my arms. "Oh nothing. Noooothinnnnnnngggg at all."
Chris quirked an eyebrow at me. "What is it Lark? There something wrong?"
I laughed coldly. "You know Amanda hates me right?"
Chris shrugged. "She doesn't hate you. She doesn't even know you."
"Exactly. She doesn't even know me, yet she hates me."
Chris managed to open my lock and I began to stuff my books into it. I glanced at the clock—I had five minutes until lunch. There wasn't any point going to lunch, so I snatched my bag out of my locker and sat down against the wall. Chris kneeled in front of me. I pulled out my sandwich and began eating it quickly.
"Amanda does not hate you. She's actually really sweet. I'm taking her to the movies this weekend."
I looked up at him and scoffed. "Ahh. Wait—this weekend? Chris, you know that this weekend you said you'd help me paint the garage! You promised like a million years ago!"
Chris grimaced. "Oh yeah. But—I can't just ditch Amanda! I'll help you another time Lark."
I shook my head. "No, I don't care. I'll do it by myself. Jesus Christ, Chambers."
Chris glared at me and stuffed his hands in his pockets, standing up. "You're getting all bitchy again Lark and you fucking now it's because you're jealous that I actually have a social life, unlike you who's never been on a fucking date!"
I glared at him. "Shut up Chris." It hurt so bad to have him talk to me like that, but I wouldn't cry. I never cried. It just never happened.
"It's true and you know it."
I sighed and looked away. "Listen, I really don't want to fight right now. I'll just see you after school. Listen, I have a detention, do you think you could drive me home since you always end up leaving late anyways?"
Chris rubbed his head and looked away. "Uh—I'm driving Amanda home. Sorry..."
I cried out in frustration and threw the rest of my sandwich at him. He turned and walked away, and I watched him walk away. I watched him walk away, walk away like he always did.
~*~*~
Hullo, back again! I thought I'd like to point out a few things. One: This story will be done in a somewhat vignette kind of way. And it probably won't be as many chapters as Wonder Years, however, it WILL be a full- length fic. I just thought I'd let you all know that it's a bit vignetty, poetic at times, and angsty. Two: Chapters will definitely get longer as the plot progresses. Three: This is not some fluffy, happy little fic. This story will be real and true...that's all I'm saying. I'm not spoiling the end, mainly because I'm not sure how I want it to end. But I have an idea...and it's not going to be clichéd. Well, that's all I'd like to say. Also: Thanks to my reviewers! Keep them coming. :) Love & Strawberries, The Good Girl. PS- shout outs in the next chapter or next two chapters...I like to do them every so many chapters, depending on how many reviews I get. :)