"What's her name?" Joey asked, giving his full attention to Craig.
"Marilyn Sterling."
Joey nods, "Her parents came to the lot earlier today, which has nothing to do with anything. Do you know much about her?"
Craig thought for a moment, "No. I don't think anyone knows much about Marilyn, she doesn't talk that much and she just moved here."
"Maybe you should get to know her. I don't think you want to end it with Ashley over a crush, sometimes when you get to know people... they aren't as glamorous as you thought they'd be."
"But what if she is?"
Joey puts a hand on Craig's shoulder, "Then I guess you have a big choice to make."
~*~
Spinner makes a face, as if he's trying to think, which ceases the talk by his friends. "What do you guys think of that Marilyn girl?"
"Why? You don't like her, do you?" Sean questioned, in near shock.
"No. I was just wondering, Craig seems to like her."
Marco swallowed his popcorn and began to speak, "I don't have any classes with her, what's she like?"
"As goth as anyone can get, scary, quiet... I don't want to talk about her." Jimmy laughs.
Spinner draped himself across Jimmy's couch, "Why here? She's going to flip our world upside down, and not in a good way."
"Everyone hates her, 'cept Craig... but that shouldn't take long." Sean stated.
"I don't hate her." Marco chimes in.
"Trust me, you will." Jimmy says to Marco. He looks out the living room window and shivers, "She lives across the street from me, how freaky is that?"
Sean stands up and walks over to Jimmy. It was getting dark outside, the street lamps were turning on and small children were being called in by their parents. "She's a loner, hopefully she'll stay out of our sight and we'll forget that she exists."
~*~
Across the street, Marilyn sits at her desk and writes in a small black notebook. Alice In Chains seeped through her stereo, her door was locked and christened with the usual howls of "Turn that down!" She thought about her day, how horrible it was and most likely how it will stay that way.
"I'd rather go to a Hilary Duff concert and enjoy it than go back to that prison cell. It's funny how people can still be the same in different countries, how they can still do anything to feel superior to everyone else... God, do I hate it here. At least back home I had Slade, but I have no one now. There's this boy though, Craig something-or-other, who seems to have taking a liking to me. Amusing, isn't it? He's not my type though, not by any means, so nothing's going to happen.
Jane and Mark have gone gaga over this place, they actually love it here. Things are too expensive and boring here; who pays $3.99 for garbage on a plate? There's no Sam Goody, no good malls, no one here takes American money, and no one's ever heard of any good metal bands. There are things worse than that though, like the people... but I'm not going to get into that tonight.
Marilyn."
She closes her diary and carries it over to her bed, pulling up some sheets, she stuffs the book in a slit in the mattress. Marilyn picks up her cell phone and dials a number, long ago memorized by heart, and waits for someone to answer.
"Mare!" Slade yells into the phone, thrilled that she called. "What's up, baby? How's Canada?"
Marilyn smiles, glad to be talking to her boyfriend, "I detest it here. I want to go back home, it's like a black hole here."
"That bad, huh?" Slade asks, "If it makes you feel better, I love you and miss you." He chuckles.
"[I] Love and miss you, too."
"Met any friends yet?"
"Yeah right, everyone here treats me like toxic waste. I'm used to it though."
"Well, you're a lot like a scar; you're there and there's no getting rid of you."
Marilyn stands up and walks over to her vanity, she notices her fading lip color and touches up the black lipstick. "Thanks." She replies sarcastically.
"I'm just saying that over time, those people are going to love you."
"And when they learn all about me, they're going to love me even more."
"How I miss your sarcasm." Slade says somewhat longlingly, "I'm sure those people aren't phobes."
"They may be." There's another rap on the door, signaling dinner. "I've got to eat dinner, Slade, I'll take to you later."
"Genetically modified chicken parts?" Back in Brooklyn, Slade was a daily guest at the dinner table. He could, most likely, win a contest of guessing what the Sterlings' dinner usually consisted of.
Marilyn pauses as she thinks, smelling the air quietly, "No. Smells more like lamb."
"Damn." Slade laughs, "Bye, hun." He hangs up his line and soon Marilyn does the same.
Tossing her phone onto her bed, she walks over to her stereo and shuts it off, walks over to unlock and opens her door, and heads downstairs. When she arrives in the dining room, he sees her parents already starting without her, not like she cares. Marilyn sits down at an open chair and begins to put veggies on the plate in front of her.
Her mother was already dressed for her job, she ran a liqour store back home and she was able to find a job at a local supermarket easily. The gold nameplate glared 'Jane Sterling' and you could cut through her 'joy' with a knife, "How was your first day, Marilyn?"
"If I adhere pawn frawns to my body, run off to the rain forest, glue myself to a tree, and call myself 'Queen Itchy...' could I never go back to that school?" Marilyn asks flatly.
"It wasn't that bad." Mr. Sterling says as he cuts up his lamb chop.
Marilyn leans back in her chair, "Were you there? I don't think so."
Mrs. Sterling huffs, "You're still going to that school, and would you eat something for once!"
"For the last time, I don't eat meat."
Mr. Sterling points to the potato slices with his fork, "Then eat the potatoes."
"If they weren't cooked in the juices from the slaughtered lamb." Marilyn jabs her fork into some green beans and puts the vegetables into her mouth.
"Marilyn Sterling."
Joey nods, "Her parents came to the lot earlier today, which has nothing to do with anything. Do you know much about her?"
Craig thought for a moment, "No. I don't think anyone knows much about Marilyn, she doesn't talk that much and she just moved here."
"Maybe you should get to know her. I don't think you want to end it with Ashley over a crush, sometimes when you get to know people... they aren't as glamorous as you thought they'd be."
"But what if she is?"
Joey puts a hand on Craig's shoulder, "Then I guess you have a big choice to make."
~*~
Spinner makes a face, as if he's trying to think, which ceases the talk by his friends. "What do you guys think of that Marilyn girl?"
"Why? You don't like her, do you?" Sean questioned, in near shock.
"No. I was just wondering, Craig seems to like her."
Marco swallowed his popcorn and began to speak, "I don't have any classes with her, what's she like?"
"As goth as anyone can get, scary, quiet... I don't want to talk about her." Jimmy laughs.
Spinner draped himself across Jimmy's couch, "Why here? She's going to flip our world upside down, and not in a good way."
"Everyone hates her, 'cept Craig... but that shouldn't take long." Sean stated.
"I don't hate her." Marco chimes in.
"Trust me, you will." Jimmy says to Marco. He looks out the living room window and shivers, "She lives across the street from me, how freaky is that?"
Sean stands up and walks over to Jimmy. It was getting dark outside, the street lamps were turning on and small children were being called in by their parents. "She's a loner, hopefully she'll stay out of our sight and we'll forget that she exists."
~*~
Across the street, Marilyn sits at her desk and writes in a small black notebook. Alice In Chains seeped through her stereo, her door was locked and christened with the usual howls of "Turn that down!" She thought about her day, how horrible it was and most likely how it will stay that way.
"I'd rather go to a Hilary Duff concert and enjoy it than go back to that prison cell. It's funny how people can still be the same in different countries, how they can still do anything to feel superior to everyone else... God, do I hate it here. At least back home I had Slade, but I have no one now. There's this boy though, Craig something-or-other, who seems to have taking a liking to me. Amusing, isn't it? He's not my type though, not by any means, so nothing's going to happen.
Jane and Mark have gone gaga over this place, they actually love it here. Things are too expensive and boring here; who pays $3.99 for garbage on a plate? There's no Sam Goody, no good malls, no one here takes American money, and no one's ever heard of any good metal bands. There are things worse than that though, like the people... but I'm not going to get into that tonight.
Marilyn."
She closes her diary and carries it over to her bed, pulling up some sheets, she stuffs the book in a slit in the mattress. Marilyn picks up her cell phone and dials a number, long ago memorized by heart, and waits for someone to answer.
"Mare!" Slade yells into the phone, thrilled that she called. "What's up, baby? How's Canada?"
Marilyn smiles, glad to be talking to her boyfriend, "I detest it here. I want to go back home, it's like a black hole here."
"That bad, huh?" Slade asks, "If it makes you feel better, I love you and miss you." He chuckles.
"[I] Love and miss you, too."
"Met any friends yet?"
"Yeah right, everyone here treats me like toxic waste. I'm used to it though."
"Well, you're a lot like a scar; you're there and there's no getting rid of you."
Marilyn stands up and walks over to her vanity, she notices her fading lip color and touches up the black lipstick. "Thanks." She replies sarcastically.
"I'm just saying that over time, those people are going to love you."
"And when they learn all about me, they're going to love me even more."
"How I miss your sarcasm." Slade says somewhat longlingly, "I'm sure those people aren't phobes."
"They may be." There's another rap on the door, signaling dinner. "I've got to eat dinner, Slade, I'll take to you later."
"Genetically modified chicken parts?" Back in Brooklyn, Slade was a daily guest at the dinner table. He could, most likely, win a contest of guessing what the Sterlings' dinner usually consisted of.
Marilyn pauses as she thinks, smelling the air quietly, "No. Smells more like lamb."
"Damn." Slade laughs, "Bye, hun." He hangs up his line and soon Marilyn does the same.
Tossing her phone onto her bed, she walks over to her stereo and shuts it off, walks over to unlock and opens her door, and heads downstairs. When she arrives in the dining room, he sees her parents already starting without her, not like she cares. Marilyn sits down at an open chair and begins to put veggies on the plate in front of her.
Her mother was already dressed for her job, she ran a liqour store back home and she was able to find a job at a local supermarket easily. The gold nameplate glared 'Jane Sterling' and you could cut through her 'joy' with a knife, "How was your first day, Marilyn?"
"If I adhere pawn frawns to my body, run off to the rain forest, glue myself to a tree, and call myself 'Queen Itchy...' could I never go back to that school?" Marilyn asks flatly.
"It wasn't that bad." Mr. Sterling says as he cuts up his lamb chop.
Marilyn leans back in her chair, "Were you there? I don't think so."
Mrs. Sterling huffs, "You're still going to that school, and would you eat something for once!"
"For the last time, I don't eat meat."
Mr. Sterling points to the potato slices with his fork, "Then eat the potatoes."
"If they weren't cooked in the juices from the slaughtered lamb." Marilyn jabs her fork into some green beans and puts the vegetables into her mouth.