Lucky Me

Chapter 004


Ever met someone you knew was the personification of a word?

Like Mr. Thinks-He's-So-Funny-Man Bobby was the living embodiment of the word "jerk". Honestly, he tried to be funny with me and all I could do was sigh, roll my eyes, and glare directly in front of me. I was surprised I hadn't cracked the floor or something with the way I was always staring so hard at it.

And yes, I call him Bobby because even though he was over 25 he acted like such a two-year old that I could hardly tell the difference.

Mr. Summers turned into personal trainer man that even hell spat back out for being too tough. I guess his word would be "strict". I finally (after two weeks) crawled out from under the rock I'd been hiding under (my room), snaked downstairs to eat with the rest of the people, and the first thing he did was steal my cookie!

I was sitting there about to nibble it like a rabid mouse and he snatched it away saying something about it throwing off my muscle-sugar-whatever.

Who steals other people's cookies for crying out loud?

And I met the reason I wasn't suppose to start my new school at Salem Center High. This was worse than skunk woman, Oreo (I still couldn't pronounce her name!), and Mrs. Jean (I had a tough time associating her with her Nazi husband- it was one freakin' cookie!) combined. Her name was Daisy Meagon Bloome. Wasn't that just too-cute?

Well, let me tell you the whole story. Okay, not the whole story because I would have to give credit to laugh-at-my-own-jokes Bobby, so I snipped to keep it short (maybe).

On that day at six, Mr. Summers came to my door and started to lightly pound on it. I grumbled, literally fell out of bed, opened the door a crack to say 'in a minute', and then went about my business of getting ready for 'drop and give me a million'. I was used to the routine but I have to admit it gave me a small pleasure being able to shut the door on his face. I was weird, this I know.

So halfway through, "You're doing it wrong," and "Bend at the knees!" This tall guy (the blonde one from a few nights ago in the kitchen?) came into the gym and said that we're supposed to be in the main hall in a few minutes. Also, that the Prof wanted to see Mr. No-cookies-for-you-Summers right away.

Of course, the man said the exercises were over and went right away to the Professor. The blonde guy, who helped me get off of the padded table, (I hate weight training, that much I had decided) introduced himself as Sam Guthrie.

"Ah haven't seen too much of ya," Sam said simply, watching as I panted with my sweaty bandaged chest heaving. Little did he know I was having what I refer to as a 'stick up', meaning the shooting pain in my back started up again.

Man, it hurt.

"Yeah," I croaked out, my elbows on my knees and my entire back curved to the ceiling, well, skylights. "I'm not much for new places."

"Ah know what ya mean. When Ah first got here, dang, must have been near six years ago, Ah hid in my room too. Course that didn't last too long, they'll starve ya out. Ah guess it was easier for me 'cause Ah had other kids my age to talk to and stuff."

There were only two parts of his mini getting-to-know-you speech that caught my attention, the first was 'starve you out' and the second was 'kids my age.'

"How can they starve you out?" I asked, straightening up after the invisible knives begun to only throb instead of stab and twist at my spine.

"They hide the food." I looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. How can they hide food? "Ya see, they have a boat house where Scott and Jean stay and if they think a new person isn't mingling enough, they take all the food down there and make you ask or something like that."

Ah ha! So the cookie Nazi also took everything else! Did I mention I had a serious problem when people touch anything with an absurd amount of pointless calories in it and take it away from me?

Standing up, I wobbled, and began to look for my towel. I didn't really know what else to say to him, so I kind of smiled and said 'nice to meet you' while making a mad dash for the door. I was a weird chicken who had a fetish for cookies—it was chocolate chip, dumb Summers.

So after a quick shower, dispensing of my bandages and rewrapping them, (the top part of my arms and most of my legs now were losing skin) I slunk downstairs. I had a death grip on the railing as I went down the stairs very slowly. I had a habit of not knowing how to operate my own feet when I got nervous.

I heard talking coming from the side room, I think the proper title was the 'sitting room.' It's more like a place they stick you so you didn't see too much of the mansion or the people in it. Whatever it was called in snotty society, I sighed and tried sneak over to the half-open door to peak in.

A small group was collected in the room. Please forgive my names, but I was still learning. There was Cookie Man (Mr. Summers), Mrs. Jean, Professor, a new guy I hadn't seen before with a business suit and wavy blonde hair, and the Oreo woman sitting around. They were talking about why the person (who I couldn't see) was here. I wondered if they had that speech memorized.

"Whatcha doing out here?" a voice asked right by my ear.

I yelped in surprise. Then I tried to turn around to see who it was and ended up tripping backwards over my own feet, crashed through the doors, and landed on my arse in the occupied room.

I glared, finally, at Funny man who was leaning against the doorframe smirking at me. I didn't have to look to know everyone was probably staring at me.

"This is our other new student. Kerry, would you come over here and introduce yourself?"

It was Mrs. Jean's voice. I knew I was red as her hair at this point but decided to save what little dignity I had left and clambered to my feet, completely ignoring mean-man Bobby's outstretched hand. On my feet again, I began to walk to the middle of the room, only to trip over the rug but this time it wasn't a complete wipe out.

Shoot me. Put me out of my misery.

"This is Daisy Bloome," Oreo lady politely told me. The girl stared back at me with big blue eyes and a sweet smile.

The girl just looked bouncy and I was proven right when she chirped (I'm not kidding!) "I go by Daisy-Mae. It's short for Daisy Meagon."

Somebody shoot me again. Where did she come from, Green Acres? Maybe even Kansas with that type of name.

"Hi," I muttered, "I'm Kerry D'mon." I wanted to ask where her braids and overalls were, but remembered I didn't want to set a bad example by doing that or something crazy like falling on my bee-hine trying to get into a room.

"She goes by Grace, as you could probably tell," Bobby-jerk chimed in.

I couldn't exactly throw him a nasty glare since he was behind me, but I did let my shoulders tense.

And you know what she did? The worst thing anyone under this roof can possibly do, she laughed at his joke! I about gagged on my own tongue. After she laughed, there was no stopping him. Bobby-meanie kept dishing them out and the more he told, the closer I inched to the door.

Later that night, Daisy-Mae (I could feel cavities coming already) bounded into my room and said she wanted to be friends. The word I think that would describe her best is "naive".

She's the type of girl you know in high school who has all the guys after her, perfect GPA, and is in every club. Daisy-Mae even called me Grace, thinking that Bobby-meanie was for real.

I really wanted not to like her, I tried so hard not to be nice to her, but it wasn't any use. Daisy-Mae was one of those girls that was so smart and ditzy at the same time you felt like throwing a barbed wire fence around her and say 'Don't feed Chocolate' or something.

"What's your power?" She asked, after a half an hour of talking about her family and such, since I was hesitant to discuss my past.

"My skin drops off," I deadpanned. Her face dropped for a moment, but then her smile came back on and she said something about hers being a healer's touch. Another half hour passed before she hopped out of my room. I was left to wonder if her smile was due to plastic surgery or was she really just that happy? And what was she smoking to make her that way?

Oh yeah, I almost forgot, in two days I got to go shopping for furniture and room stuff. It was embarrassing having one of the random people come get me for dinner, see my Wal-Mart bags and ask if it was trash. I had to say no and tell them that was my clothes. Talk about embarrassing.

My last thought was: Would cookie-taker-Summers take Daisy-Mae's cookies too? (It was traumatic for me!)