Title: Children Of Eden: The Italian Job
Author: Kaitlyn
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: Burning lungs, dirty dancing, nightswimming and second chances...Loud music, tainted smoke, fiery kisses and racing hearts. Everyone remembers what it was like to be 18. Established R/R and eventual C/M
I received yet another review about the off-center depiction of the characters. Once again, that is the intent of this story. This is an AU fic. For those of you who might not know what that means, it stands for Alternate Universe. This means that not everything will be portrayed exactly according to the show's guidelines, or necessarily within the realm of possibility that the show presents. They are out of character for a reason. Believe it or not, I'm not just making this up as I go along :-)
If you would like to review the story with constructive criticism, I am all for that. I like hearing what people think I need to improve on. However, if I explicitly state in the preface that I am making certain plotline decisions ON PURPOSE, I'd prefer that people not continue to point this out to me. It IS intentional, and it DOES require a certain level of suspension of disbelief in order to enjoy it. If you don't like this literary choice, then you might be interested in reading another story.
I KNOW THIS IS A SHORT UPDATE. I wanted to update tonight, and this chapter will quite obviously be an important one in the long run, even if it's not as eventful or long as the others. I promise that this will be the shortest update of the series.
****************************************************************************
"I just wish you knew how beautiful you were." Rachel's words reverberated through Monica's head. She had never been called beautiful before- not from any lovelorn boy or jealous girlfriend. Even her parents preferred such words as "cute" and "ladylike", so her friend's words sent a wave of warmth flowing through her body.
"Rach, I- I don't know what to say. Let's just forget I ever brought it up, okay? I was wrong." Rachel nodded, finally dropping the pillow from the death grip that she'd had it in all night. For the first time since they'd left the club, her shoulders were not held back with such a rigid force and the pronunciation of lines and angry shadows on her face ran away.
"I know I sprung a lot on you at once. It wasn't your fault." Monica smiled weakly, rubbing her friend's arm.
"Okay, good. Let's go to sleep. It's late and I'm pretty tired." The two girls climbed into the twin-sized bed together, facing their separate directions but naturally gravitating towards one another as they drifted off to sleep. They sought condolence and acceptance from each other, each in their own way, and even in their sleep. For a girl whose life had not started until her 16th year, and for another who searched desperately for some sort of absolution in an imagine tinted by golden hair and a glossy smile, the comfort of a too-small bed was all that was required to heal their ailments that night.
***********************************************************************
"Hey, who's that?" Rachel asked, shielding her eyes from the sun's unforgiving rays. She and Ross were standing on a grassy hill in front of the school, facing the street. A few minutes before, a black mustang pulled up to the sidewalk, and a group of girls had not hesitated to congregate around it. Ross shrugged.
"I don't know. He's in my Civ class. He just moved here. I think his name is like Jack, or Joe or something." The group of obnoxious girls was too dense for Rachel to decipher what it's mystery driver actually looked like, but something about the way in which he'd pulled so charismatically and smoothly up to the curb and had provoked a fan base before his feet even hit the pavement intrigued Rachel.
"Where'd he move from?" she asked, still shielding her eyes in hopes of sneaking a peek at his face.
"Uh, Queens, I think. He seems like kind of an asshole, but maybe that's just me." Rachel smiled and rolled her eyes discretely.
"Of course it's just you. You think every guy I ask you about is an asshole. Come on, let's go say hi." Rachel grabbed Ross by the wrist and trotted down the hill to the sidewalk, just in time for the crowd of girls to disperse. Like a situation similar to the parting of the Dead Sea, the mystery Mustang driver was quite climactically revealed to the inquiring couple.
His most distinguishing and overt feature was his obvious Italian bloodline. He had dark hair and eyes, accented by deep Olive skin and a somewhat hard exterior. He was leaning against his car, his legs crossed casually and his arms draped over the hood. His shirt was tight, revealing tones muscles and an expanse of tanned skin. He starred blankly at Ross. Obviously, they would have to make the first move.
"Hi," Rachel chirped, "I'm Rachel! Are you new here?" The Italian nodded but seemed unaffected, reaching up with his pinky finger to retrieve a piece of something that had been stuck in his teeth.
"Yeah. Is this like the welcoming committee?" Rachel would have been offended, but something in his tone told her that he was being serious. Maybe he wasn't as cold as his exterior let on.
"Oh, no, we were just curious about you. I like your car. What year is it?" Italy glanced back at his car as if he were rediscovering its existence.
"Oh, this? It's a '69. It was my dad's." There was a long awkward pause that was finally broken by Italy gesturing towards Ross.
"Who're you?" he asked, his accent ringing out more prominently.
"Oh, uh, I'm Ross." He extended his hand, which Italy took. "I think you're in my Civ class. What's your name again?"
"Joey," he said simply. Ross nodded dramatically.
"Oh, right, right. I knew it was something like that. And you're from Queens?" Joey nodded.
"My parents just split and my dad moved back to Italy, so I'm staying here with my grandma for a while."
"You a senior?" Ross asked.
"No, 'fraid not. I could be, but I got held back a year." Ross looked sympathetic, but not particularly surprised.
"Oh, that's tough. What year?"
"Kindergarten."
"What?" Ross asked in disbelief. "I didn't know you could be held back in Kindergarten." This came out more harshly and rudely than he even realized. Rachel didn't miss his insensitivity, though, and she smacked him hard on his stomach.
"Well, apparently so. Something about me not getting the alphabet down. Who knows, though?" Rachel nodded.
"Well, we've got to get going, but it was nice meeting you! If you're ever looking for something to do, don't hesitate to ask!" As Ross and Rachel turned to leave, Joey shouted out to get their attention.
"Hey! Are you two, you know...together?" They both seemed a little shocked at the abruptness of his question, but Rachel finally nodded 'yes'.
"Oh," Joey stated fatly, more than just a little disappointment filling his voice. "That's a shame." He accented his comment by winking flirtatiously at her. With that, he climbed back into the driver's seat of his '69 Mustang and sped away, leaving Ross with his mouth hanging open. He pointed in the direction of the speeding-away car.
"Did you see that!? He totally just came onto you! Right in front of me!" Rachel grabbed his hand and began walking away in the direction of the parking lot.
"Oh, come on, you're overreacting. He was just messing around." She laced her fingers in his in an attempt at easing his insecurities, but he was obviously not letting it go.
"Not a big deal? He WINKED, for crying out loud! Who the hell WINKS?"
"Honey, he was just kidding. He knew we were together. He was being nice."
"Nice!? What would have been NICE was not coming onto my girlfriend in front of my face! Let me tell you something, we're NOT talking to that guy again." Rachel looked up at Ross but still clung to his hand.
"Okay, honey, whatever you say." They made their way to his car in the student parking lot with Ross making a dramatized scene the entire way. Despite what he said, though, Rachel couldn't help but think that this would not be their last time crossing paths with that stoic Italian with the classic car and olive skin.
End Chapter 4. Continued in Chapter 5.
Author: Kaitlyn
Rating: PG-13/R
Summary: Burning lungs, dirty dancing, nightswimming and second chances...Loud music, tainted smoke, fiery kisses and racing hearts. Everyone remembers what it was like to be 18. Established R/R and eventual C/M
I received yet another review about the off-center depiction of the characters. Once again, that is the intent of this story. This is an AU fic. For those of you who might not know what that means, it stands for Alternate Universe. This means that not everything will be portrayed exactly according to the show's guidelines, or necessarily within the realm of possibility that the show presents. They are out of character for a reason. Believe it or not, I'm not just making this up as I go along :-)
If you would like to review the story with constructive criticism, I am all for that. I like hearing what people think I need to improve on. However, if I explicitly state in the preface that I am making certain plotline decisions ON PURPOSE, I'd prefer that people not continue to point this out to me. It IS intentional, and it DOES require a certain level of suspension of disbelief in order to enjoy it. If you don't like this literary choice, then you might be interested in reading another story.
I KNOW THIS IS A SHORT UPDATE. I wanted to update tonight, and this chapter will quite obviously be an important one in the long run, even if it's not as eventful or long as the others. I promise that this will be the shortest update of the series.
****************************************************************************
"I just wish you knew how beautiful you were." Rachel's words reverberated through Monica's head. She had never been called beautiful before- not from any lovelorn boy or jealous girlfriend. Even her parents preferred such words as "cute" and "ladylike", so her friend's words sent a wave of warmth flowing through her body.
"Rach, I- I don't know what to say. Let's just forget I ever brought it up, okay? I was wrong." Rachel nodded, finally dropping the pillow from the death grip that she'd had it in all night. For the first time since they'd left the club, her shoulders were not held back with such a rigid force and the pronunciation of lines and angry shadows on her face ran away.
"I know I sprung a lot on you at once. It wasn't your fault." Monica smiled weakly, rubbing her friend's arm.
"Okay, good. Let's go to sleep. It's late and I'm pretty tired." The two girls climbed into the twin-sized bed together, facing their separate directions but naturally gravitating towards one another as they drifted off to sleep. They sought condolence and acceptance from each other, each in their own way, and even in their sleep. For a girl whose life had not started until her 16th year, and for another who searched desperately for some sort of absolution in an imagine tinted by golden hair and a glossy smile, the comfort of a too-small bed was all that was required to heal their ailments that night.
***********************************************************************
"Hey, who's that?" Rachel asked, shielding her eyes from the sun's unforgiving rays. She and Ross were standing on a grassy hill in front of the school, facing the street. A few minutes before, a black mustang pulled up to the sidewalk, and a group of girls had not hesitated to congregate around it. Ross shrugged.
"I don't know. He's in my Civ class. He just moved here. I think his name is like Jack, or Joe or something." The group of obnoxious girls was too dense for Rachel to decipher what it's mystery driver actually looked like, but something about the way in which he'd pulled so charismatically and smoothly up to the curb and had provoked a fan base before his feet even hit the pavement intrigued Rachel.
"Where'd he move from?" she asked, still shielding her eyes in hopes of sneaking a peek at his face.
"Uh, Queens, I think. He seems like kind of an asshole, but maybe that's just me." Rachel smiled and rolled her eyes discretely.
"Of course it's just you. You think every guy I ask you about is an asshole. Come on, let's go say hi." Rachel grabbed Ross by the wrist and trotted down the hill to the sidewalk, just in time for the crowd of girls to disperse. Like a situation similar to the parting of the Dead Sea, the mystery Mustang driver was quite climactically revealed to the inquiring couple.
His most distinguishing and overt feature was his obvious Italian bloodline. He had dark hair and eyes, accented by deep Olive skin and a somewhat hard exterior. He was leaning against his car, his legs crossed casually and his arms draped over the hood. His shirt was tight, revealing tones muscles and an expanse of tanned skin. He starred blankly at Ross. Obviously, they would have to make the first move.
"Hi," Rachel chirped, "I'm Rachel! Are you new here?" The Italian nodded but seemed unaffected, reaching up with his pinky finger to retrieve a piece of something that had been stuck in his teeth.
"Yeah. Is this like the welcoming committee?" Rachel would have been offended, but something in his tone told her that he was being serious. Maybe he wasn't as cold as his exterior let on.
"Oh, no, we were just curious about you. I like your car. What year is it?" Italy glanced back at his car as if he were rediscovering its existence.
"Oh, this? It's a '69. It was my dad's." There was a long awkward pause that was finally broken by Italy gesturing towards Ross.
"Who're you?" he asked, his accent ringing out more prominently.
"Oh, uh, I'm Ross." He extended his hand, which Italy took. "I think you're in my Civ class. What's your name again?"
"Joey," he said simply. Ross nodded dramatically.
"Oh, right, right. I knew it was something like that. And you're from Queens?" Joey nodded.
"My parents just split and my dad moved back to Italy, so I'm staying here with my grandma for a while."
"You a senior?" Ross asked.
"No, 'fraid not. I could be, but I got held back a year." Ross looked sympathetic, but not particularly surprised.
"Oh, that's tough. What year?"
"Kindergarten."
"What?" Ross asked in disbelief. "I didn't know you could be held back in Kindergarten." This came out more harshly and rudely than he even realized. Rachel didn't miss his insensitivity, though, and she smacked him hard on his stomach.
"Well, apparently so. Something about me not getting the alphabet down. Who knows, though?" Rachel nodded.
"Well, we've got to get going, but it was nice meeting you! If you're ever looking for something to do, don't hesitate to ask!" As Ross and Rachel turned to leave, Joey shouted out to get their attention.
"Hey! Are you two, you know...together?" They both seemed a little shocked at the abruptness of his question, but Rachel finally nodded 'yes'.
"Oh," Joey stated fatly, more than just a little disappointment filling his voice. "That's a shame." He accented his comment by winking flirtatiously at her. With that, he climbed back into the driver's seat of his '69 Mustang and sped away, leaving Ross with his mouth hanging open. He pointed in the direction of the speeding-away car.
"Did you see that!? He totally just came onto you! Right in front of me!" Rachel grabbed his hand and began walking away in the direction of the parking lot.
"Oh, come on, you're overreacting. He was just messing around." She laced her fingers in his in an attempt at easing his insecurities, but he was obviously not letting it go.
"Not a big deal? He WINKED, for crying out loud! Who the hell WINKS?"
"Honey, he was just kidding. He knew we were together. He was being nice."
"Nice!? What would have been NICE was not coming onto my girlfriend in front of my face! Let me tell you something, we're NOT talking to that guy again." Rachel looked up at Ross but still clung to his hand.
"Okay, honey, whatever you say." They made their way to his car in the student parking lot with Ross making a dramatized scene the entire way. Despite what he said, though, Rachel couldn't help but think that this would not be their last time crossing paths with that stoic Italian with the classic car and olive skin.
End Chapter 4. Continued in Chapter 5.
