Logan walked into the guest house for the first time in a while. He never really went into the guest house, his grandma always complained about how it had no air conditioning and it was hot as hell. So, the last time Logan had been in that house was when he was six. The room now had an eerie feel to it, like a ghost had somehow taken over it, and it lost the luster and magic it once held when his grandma lived in there. The outrageously green colored walls now looked like slime, splattered across the wall like paint on a canvas. Logan slowly walked further into the house, his feet guiding him instead of his brain, his face looking straight ahead, and his eyes empty. He had stopped crying when he had left PCA and now his eyes were dry, and stone-looking.
"It feels weird doesn't it?" his father put his arms on Logan's shoulders, "Like, this house is somehow haunted or something since she's gone". His voice was dry and raspy, from the cigarettes he had smoked on his way to pick Logan up, the smell was intoxicating.
Logan hated it when his father smoked, and he especially hated it when he overcrowded his personal space. Logan quickly pushed away from his father and stood apart, "It really sucks", Logan whispered as he walked deeper into the hallway, "I didn't even get to say goodbye".
"Logan…" his father walked closer to him, turning on a weak lamp in the hallway, "Logan these things aren't planned. We never – no one got to say goodbye".
"Yeah I know", Logan stepped into his grandmother's room, "But you were here. I was off at PCA – I could've done something – anything! Instead being there, being useless". Logan sat down on his grandmother's bed. The sheets were stripped bare and he sat on the bare eggshell mattress, the springs digging into him. It was just so hard to swallow, the fact that she was gone. It was almost – impossible.
Chase Matthews had started writing when he was three, even before he could write words he'd make up stories and little picture books and maybe change the story every time he read it, but the plotlines were still there, the idea was still there. He wanted to be an accomplished writer by the time he turned 23, he wanted to be someone famous, someone known. Someone that women desired and would find his writing as amazing as he was. But Chase Matthews wanted a lot of things, and one thing about dreaming is knowing that they won't come true.
The music still played as he waited in his chair, playing wallflower was something he wasn't ashamed of. It was something he was used to. Just like he was used to see her dancing with other guys and not knowing the true feelings that harnessed in side of him for so long –
"Chase?" Zoey walked into the lounge and sat down next to him, "What are you doing?"
Embarrassed, Chase covered his laptop and set it on the table, "Nothing – nothing at all. I was just – um waiting for you Zoey. Yeah, I was waiting for you". He was slightly disappointed that Zoey had broken his concentration, he was in an amazing, enthralling writers' zone – but however he enjoyed Zoey's company and wasn't mad at all that she had started talking to him, he wasn't mad at all. Nope, not at all.
"Doesn't seem like nothing", Zoey smiled, "What were you writing?"
Chase felt a tickle of pink color his cheeks, he quickly laughed it off, "Something stupid I bet, just a story I made up, and no you can't read it". Chase let out another laugh, "Let's get out of here".
"Why can't I read it?" Zoey crossed her arms, "I'm your best friend I should be able to read it".
"Look – reading a story isn't nearly as good incomplete as it is finished. When I finish I'll let you read it", Chase stuck up three fingers, "I swear scouts honor. Okay?"
"Cross your heart and hope to die?"
"Stick a needle in my eye", Chase stood up, "Let's go to Sushi Rox or something", Chase picked up his laptop and walked outside with Zoey.
I'm not ever going to finished that story, Chase thought to himself, Never.
Quinn didn't think of herself as attractive, she didn't think she was ugly either, oh no. She was just unique and that something about her kept guys sort of – afraid – of her more than attracted. It didn't break her heart or anything, at least she had Mark who was one guy that Quinn could call her own, and like it. She liked it so much that she was acting so outside herself when she was around him, like suddenly looks were the only thing that mattered. She'd suddenly start spending her time messing with her hair and looking in the mirror when she knew she wasn't going to change. And I guess it sort of broke her heart, knowing that she wouldn't change.
"Quinn, open up", someone started tapping on her door, "It's Mark".
"Oh Mark! I'll be there in a second", Quinn started adjusting things around her dorm room and messing around with her outfit. She pulled her hair up in a ponytail and walk towards the door, "Hey Mark"; she batted her eyelashes and smiled seductively as he walked in.
"Quinn, what's wrong with your eye?" Mark pointed, "I have some eye drops in my dorm…"
"Everything's fine Mark", Quinn sat down on her bed, she patted the seat next to her, "Sit?"
Obediently, Mark sat in the seat next to Quinn, "You have a really nice dorm Quinn, I – I've never really been in it but now I see, wow you have a really nice place here. Yep you do".
Slowly, Quinn moved in and kissed Mark mid-sentence, she began to shove her tongue down his throat.
"QUINN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" Mark stood up.
"Kissing?" Quinn looked alarmed, "Am I doing it wrong? I'm so sorry Mark".
"Quinn there's something weird going on with you".
Quinn closed her eyes and nodded, "I know – I know. I'm just new to this whole dating thing and I don't know what to do. I don't know if what I'm doing is the right thing to be doing".
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know", the words uttered Quinn's mouth softly for the first time, and for the first time Quinn didn't have a solution to this problem and it was tearing her apart.
Dana sat at her computer trying to think of best e-mail to send to Logan. She wanted to sound subtle, not too clingy, but she wanted to show that she cared, that she at least had a heart. She firmly placed her manicured nails over the keyboard and slowly typed:
Dear Logan, (ERASED)
No, it makes me sound clingy. I'm so NOT clingy. EW. "Dear Logan". It sounds like some kind of grandma card, and his grandma died which is a million times worse.
Hey Logan! (ERASED)
"Hey Logan!" What am I thinking? ACK. I sound like Nicole, which I'm not. And I sound perky, which is so not me and it does NOT help the situation to make myself be perky when his grandmother is DEAD.
Logan,
Good, subtle, to the point. Now all I have to do is write the e-mail…
Nicole Bristow and Michael Barrett were in the courtyard playing basketball, the wind was flying in Nicole's hair as she jumped up and attempted to make a basket, the ball slammed into the backboard. Devastated, and defeated yet once again by Michael, Nicole ran to retrieve the ball and threw it at all Michael.
"Best two out of three?" Michael offered as he and Nicole sat down onto the cold concrete surface of the courtyard. He set the ball on his finger and began spinning it around.
"Not fair!" Nicole exclaimed helplessly and grabbed the ball back from Michael. She ran up to the hoop and scored a basket, "Oh! In your face Michael!"
Michael stood up, "Too bad we're not playing", he grinned, "Give me the rock".
"No!" Nicole defended, "No way!"
"Nicole, we could make this hard or we could make this easy, give me the ball!"
"No!" Nicole repeated.
"Nicole!" Michael ran and began to chase Nicole around the courtyard, playfully they laughed and knowing their situation, Michael play tackled her and she fell to the ground with him on top of her, and while they lay in that compromising position, Michael lowered his head and kissed her.