AN: First of all I would like to thank everyone who reviewed... I really wasn't expecting that, and now that I know how good it feels for people to just tell you what they think, good or bad... ok, mostly good, I am totally going to start reviewing now. Ok, here is the second little chapter. I am sorry they are so short, but I'm new at this. It feels like I have wrote something really long and I look and it's not. So you all aren't the only ones being disapointed. And I am really VERY sorry it took so long to post, I have had it written, just not the time to get it on here...Ok, here is the story...
The Supply Closet (still)-
I think I have just done one of the most stupid things in my whole entire life.
First of all, let me just remind you that I was scared. VERY scared. I mean ready to pee my pants scared. And you can't really blame a fourteen year old girl who is under enough stress already from being known as a flat-chested-Algebra-flunking-Princess who is in love with her best friend's brother, (okay, so that last part is only really known by Tina and Dad), to be thinking correctly when she is under the empression that a phsyco-stalker is jiggling the handle of the door of the supply closet that she has been trapped in for the past 15 minutes, can you? I don't think so.
So what do I do when I think I'm about to be fed to the fishies? I grab Boris' violin.
That's another thing. WHAT is it doing in there? I mean yeah, that is where he spends a lot of his time practicing, but doesn't he take it home??? I would totally not be in this predicament if had it not been sitting there.
Ok, back to my STUPID mistake.
So this phsyco-killer, that I can barely make out, opens the door. And... well, I whacked him. I mean, really hard. Hard enough for him to fall to the floor of the supply closet. Right after the door shut again. Only it wasn't a phsyco-killer.
Only it was Michael.
So now I am sitting here. The love of my life knocked out... by me.
THIS IS SO NOT FAIR!
And what if I hit him hard enough to cause his IQ to drop? Not enough that he becomes a Vegetable, but just enough that Columbia will take back his acceptance.
HE WOULD NEVER FORGIVE ME!!!!!!!
Oh God... what have I done?!!
He will NEVER EVER want to be with me now!
Not that he would anyway, but this just adds to the list.
So now I am just sitting here, cradeling Michael's head in my lap, because there is that little room in here, (even though it is kind of nice), waiting for him to wake up and tell me:
a) He is perfectly fine and is not suffering from any type of serious injury that is caused by being hit in the head with a violin.
b) That despite the fact I am flat-chested, not a cheerleader but a Princess, his little sister's best friend, not self-actualized, and I knocked him over the head, that he doesn't care. That he is completely and madly in love with me.
And then after he says all those nice things, it would be even nicer if he took me in his arms and kissed me. Not a Josh Richter or a Kenny Showalter kiss. No, a wonderful, him loving me, me loving him back, Michael Moscovitz kiss.
Looking back over what I wrote I should really start to think about scheduling a session of phsyco-analyzing with Drs. Moscovitz. But seeing as Michael is the son, I don't think that would go too well...
Moscovitz: And just how long have you been in love with Michael?
Me: Since I realised he is the sweetest guy in the whole entire world, and him walking around your apartment without a shirt on really helped too..
Still, I could get a couple of recomendations...
I think I will make a list. I've got nothing better to do.
Pluses of hitting Michael over the head:
1) The fact that Boris might possibly not have a spare violin and will have to wait a couple of weeks for one to come in.
2) Michael's head in my lap.
3) With Michael's head in my lap I can smell his fresh clean soap smell all I want without him ever catching on.
4) Rubbing his soft hair. (I need to stop doing this, as he could wake up, and I would find myself in an akward conversation)
AN: Sorry, but I have to say, even though I didn't put it in the first chapter, thanks to my best friend Ellen... because she mentioned me in one of her fanfics and plus I am really proud of her writing, and the fact she was brave enough to put it out there for other people to read and critique.
The Supply Closet (still)-
I think I have just done one of the most stupid things in my whole entire life.
First of all, let me just remind you that I was scared. VERY scared. I mean ready to pee my pants scared. And you can't really blame a fourteen year old girl who is under enough stress already from being known as a flat-chested-Algebra-flunking-Princess who is in love with her best friend's brother, (okay, so that last part is only really known by Tina and Dad), to be thinking correctly when she is under the empression that a phsyco-stalker is jiggling the handle of the door of the supply closet that she has been trapped in for the past 15 minutes, can you? I don't think so.
So what do I do when I think I'm about to be fed to the fishies? I grab Boris' violin.
That's another thing. WHAT is it doing in there? I mean yeah, that is where he spends a lot of his time practicing, but doesn't he take it home??? I would totally not be in this predicament if had it not been sitting there.
Ok, back to my STUPID mistake.
So this phsyco-killer, that I can barely make out, opens the door. And... well, I whacked him. I mean, really hard. Hard enough for him to fall to the floor of the supply closet. Right after the door shut again. Only it wasn't a phsyco-killer.
Only it was Michael.
So now I am sitting here. The love of my life knocked out... by me.
THIS IS SO NOT FAIR!
And what if I hit him hard enough to cause his IQ to drop? Not enough that he becomes a Vegetable, but just enough that Columbia will take back his acceptance.
HE WOULD NEVER FORGIVE ME!!!!!!!
Oh God... what have I done?!!
He will NEVER EVER want to be with me now!
Not that he would anyway, but this just adds to the list.
So now I am just sitting here, cradeling Michael's head in my lap, because there is that little room in here, (even though it is kind of nice), waiting for him to wake up and tell me:
a) He is perfectly fine and is not suffering from any type of serious injury that is caused by being hit in the head with a violin.
b) That despite the fact I am flat-chested, not a cheerleader but a Princess, his little sister's best friend, not self-actualized, and I knocked him over the head, that he doesn't care. That he is completely and madly in love with me.
And then after he says all those nice things, it would be even nicer if he took me in his arms and kissed me. Not a Josh Richter or a Kenny Showalter kiss. No, a wonderful, him loving me, me loving him back, Michael Moscovitz kiss.
Looking back over what I wrote I should really start to think about scheduling a session of phsyco-analyzing with Drs. Moscovitz. But seeing as Michael is the son, I don't think that would go too well...
Moscovitz: And just how long have you been in love with Michael?
Me: Since I realised he is the sweetest guy in the whole entire world, and him walking around your apartment without a shirt on really helped too..
Still, I could get a couple of recomendations...
I think I will make a list. I've got nothing better to do.
Pluses of hitting Michael over the head:
1) The fact that Boris might possibly not have a spare violin and will have to wait a couple of weeks for one to come in.
2) Michael's head in my lap.
3) With Michael's head in my lap I can smell his fresh clean soap smell all I want without him ever catching on.
4) Rubbing his soft hair. (I need to stop doing this, as he could wake up, and I would find myself in an akward conversation)
AN: Sorry, but I have to say, even though I didn't put it in the first chapter, thanks to my best friend Ellen... because she mentioned me in one of her fanfics and plus I am really proud of her writing, and the fact she was brave enough to put it out there for other people to read and critique.