Teenage Kicks
Chapter One
Disclaimer: Dont own DC never did never will.
Summary: Jen never died and now her and Dawson's daughter Amy Leery is starting Capeside High along with Pacey and Joey's daughter Michelle (named after Dawson's dad, Mitch) Witter and Audrey's son Frankie Sheldon; the three are best friends. Revolves around their teenage years at Capeside High with their friends, Cindy Freeman, Paul Tyler and Alex Carr. Focuses mainly on Michelle and her outlooks on life.
Author Note: I have been thinking about this for ages now and finally decided to put it up. Please r&r all suggestions welcome!
Michelle Witter pulled on her sweater and announced to her best friend Amy she was going home.
"Aren't you staying over?" Amy asked, standing up. "I have my Dad's new movie on DVD. It's an 18, but I snuck it out of Mom's closet. Frankie's staying. Come on, it'll be fun." She tried to persuade the dark haired girl, to no avail.
"No way!" Michelle laughed, putting on her shoes. "My Aunt Gretchen is coming over tonight. She is just so much fun! I have to go see her. I'll see you guys at RED'S tomorrow, though." She turned to face Amy and Frankie who were lying next to each other on Amy's bed.
"She's just scared 'cause it's a horror." Frankie teased, throwing popcorn at Michelle.
"Yeah, Mom and Dad are always saying how much of a scaredy cat her Mom is."
"Well, I'm not my Mom; I just love it when Aunt Gretchen comes to town. I promise I'll see you guys tomorrow. Can you at least wait till I leave before you start smooching? it's disgusting." She squirmed, seeing Frankie kissing Amy on the kneck.
"On second thoughts, just go, Chelle. Catch ya tomorrow, babes." Amy giggled, embracing herself in Frankie's kiss.
Eww! How can she do that with Frankie? She thought. That was always what Michelle thought when she saw people kissing. Kissing was disgusting and so were boys. Michelle had never been one to like boys. She had plenty of boy friends, but she could never even consider having an actual boyfriend. To her, all they seemed to do was smell and tease - and that certainly didn't appeal to her.
"Where have you been young lady? It's 7pm, almost past you bedtime." Her Father, Pacey said in as deep and stern a voice as he could muster.
"Hi, Daddy." She began to laugh uncontrolably as he grabbed and tickled her.
"Ssh, Pace." Her mother entered the room, rubbing her stomach. She was now seven months pregnant with their third baby, a little boy. "Gretchen just got little Kurtis to sleep."
"Sorry, honey." Her father put her down and kissed her mother on the cheek and left the room.
"Come on, Michelle." Joey smiled at her daughter and placed her hand on her head, running her fingers through her daughter's long brown hair.
She sat down on the settee after kissing her aunt Gretchen hello.
"So Capeside High in two days huh, sport?" Gretchen smiled at her and looked at mother and father.
"Don't remind me." Michelle sighed. "I don't see why I have to go, I mean, I'm smart enough; I'm really mature for my age." She protested.
"Yeah, that's what I used to say, too." Her father said. "You know, by the time I was your age, I could almost count to 100."
"Very funny, Pace." Gretchen quiped. "You exagerrate. From what I remember, it was 50."
It was after 12 before Gretchen had left with her 2 year old son, Kurtis. Her mom had gone to bed before 11; she often did, now that she was expecting and her father had insisted that she go to bed too as she was waitressing at his resturant that morning. SHe sat on her bed that night and thought about the next few days of her life. This was where it all changed. This was where she was to begin her life. She climbed off her bed and walked over to her cabinet. Sighing, she pulled out a large hardbacked notepad and took it back over to bed. Opening it up, she continued her story.
Ever since Michelle Witter could remember, she had watned to be a writer. She even wrote her first book at the age of six - sure it wasn't that good and consisted of only 60 odd pages, but to her, she always thought it the biggest achievement in her life. Maybe she had gotten her writing skills from her Mom. She thought about it as she glanced to the bookshelf on the other wall. The top shelf were full of books that her mother had written. It wasn't that she wanted to be like her, she was independant and wanted to be herself, but writting, like her mother, seemed to make her who she was. Also on the shelf were some medals and trophies she had gotten from writting competitions she had won. It was her life and she knew that if she never had anything else, she would be happy with at least that.
Michelle pulled open her closet and began rummaging through it for something to wear. She looked over at the Grateful Dead t-shirt and jeans she had laid out last night and shook her head. Pulling clothes out from the closet fast and furiosly, she picked out a cute little pink shirt and three-quarter length jeans. That'll do she decided, pulling them on. It's not like I'm Amy. I don't view school as beign some fashion parade. Falling over the shoes on the floor she found the sneakers she was looking for and tied them up.
High school she thought. This is it. I'm becoming an adult. I'm taking charge of my life. I am going to high school. The realization suddenly struck her as she sat back down on her bed, taking deep breaths. For the first time, she was going to have to actually take charge of things unlike she had ever done before. She picked up the phone and hit #1 on the speedial button.
"Yo."
"Hey, Amy, it's me. Can you believe this?" She asked her best friend on the other end of the line.
"Chelle, it's not like it's some life-altering moment or something. It's not as if it's D-Day or anything. It's just high school. Besides, what have you got to fear? It's not like you've never been to school before!" Amy laughed on the other end of the line and Michelle took a moment to gather herself.
Maybe Amy was right. She was probably making too much of a big deal already. Sure, it was important, but it was just another day. There would be plenty more days in her life that ranked higher than her first day at high school.
"Michelle?" Amy asked.
"Sorry, I'm here."
"I'll get you at RED'S in about an hour?"
"Sure, what about Frankie?"
"He stayed over."
"Does Aunt Jen know!" Michelle asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No! Of course not! Ever since we started dating she put a stop to it, but what she don't know won't hurt her."
"You really shouldn't lie to your mom." She warned.
"Why not? As not as though she never lied to me about anything. Besides, we never done anything. We haven't yet. I'm not like those other girls, Chelle. I don't put out."
"Too much information." Michelle smiled as though her friend could see her. "But I'm glad. At least there's still one sane part of you left."
"Thanks(!)" Amy giggled. "See ya later chick."
"You too, chick."
She hung up the phone and sat relishing in Amy's confession for a moment. She had been worried about her for a little while but now she knew her best friend wasn't as stupid as she sometimes made herself out to be.
Linking arms, Michelle and Amy walked into Capeside High together, with Frankie lingering somewhere behind them. She glanced at Amy's face and saw an amazement and wonder spread across it that she had never seen before. Despite her best efforts, it was obvious that this day meant as much to Amy as it did to her. Amy squeezed her arm gently as they rounded the corner to where their lockers where.
She studied the piece of paper in her hand as she slid the combination into the lock. It swung open to reveal some books and a luch bag inside. She looked at it puzzled for a minute and rechecked the number on the locker.
"Hey, I think you must have the wrong locker. That one's mine."
Then she saw him.
A tall boy with dark hair swept across his face and hazel eyes walked towards her carrying a green book bag.
"Oh." She exclaimed. "Sorry. It says the same number right here." She said, handing him the paper.
"It's okay." He said, flashing her a smile. "I already spoke to the Asst.Head this morning. He said some of us have to double up for a while. Is that a problem for you?"
"So long as your lunch doesn't stick of fish. I don't want my books smelling of tuna."
He laughed and extended a hand.
"Alex Carr."
She shook it and smiled back.
"Michelle Witter."
Their eyes and hands met for a few seconds longer than required before she pulled away. A strange feeling invaded her stomach. What was it? She had never felt it before, but it was pleasant. She felt lips forming into a smile again as something tugged at her shirt.
"Chelle, come on!" Amy yanked her out of her thoughts and darted her back to the real world as she fet herself being led up the corridor away from him; her locker still swinging open. Her feet resisted movement, but to no avail.
It wasn't the locker she was concerned about leaving. It was something else.
What did you think? All suggestions welcome. Should I continue with this story? Tell me your views. Please r&r.