Take Me Away
By Rosie Real
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Dedication: To chocolate chip cookies
Author's Note: Rawr.
Chapter Three: The High Life
Hatred: Everyone hates something. Unless they're dead or a robot. Or the Pope. Who probably hates something but probably won't admit it. So sketch something you hate, and make me see and feel that hatred. Due at the end of class: no coloring needed, and shading required.
Rachel's indigo eyes focused in on the written assignment written in large, cursive letters, expanding across the out-dated chalkboard. A thoughtful smile grew on her face. "Hatred…" she whispered to herself, trying out the word, playing with it on her tongue. "Hmm…" This is exactly what she loved most about art class; the freedom.
Next to her, Jenny banged her head on the table in frustration. "…My (bang!) …creative (bang!) …capability (bang!) …is (bang!) DEAD! (Bangbangbangbang-)"
Rachel nudged her, drumming her fingers on the desk. "No it's not; you're just over analyzing… again," She smirked teasingly at her art class buddy. "C'mon, this is easy,"
Jenny frowned. "Yeah, says you. You're an artistic genius,"
Despite the rush of pride, Rachel rolled her eyes. "Spare me the flattery. You're only using it as a defense,"
"…And what am I defending?"
She shrugged, knowing her friend was in an annoyed mood, and it was better to try and not provoke her. "Beats me. Look, I'll show you how easy this is. What do you hate?"
"…Wally West…" Jenny spat venomously, as though the name itself was a cuss word. She glared in the boy's direction, where he sat next to Roy Harper, both of them laughing about something probably stupid while they drew.
Rachel bit back a giggle. She always tried to stay serious when trying to produce inspiration, especially in Jenny. "Anything else?"
The pink haired girl banged her head back down on the table. "Mr. Watson… and his stupid research paper,"
"…Anything else?"
"I'm living off half a cup of cold coffee and three hours of sleep. Of course nothing else," Jenny stubbornly snapped, her bubblegum pink eyes flashing in annoyance.
With an exasperated sigh, Rachel glanced up to see if she could get help from their teacher, Mr. Mod. Fortunately, he had been watching the scene attentively, and was making his way over.
Mr. Mod was easily her favorite teacher. No ifs, ands, or buts, he was her utmost favorite. Her first glimpse of him was on that terrifying first day of freshman year, and she knew for a fact that she was going to love having him as a teacher. Part of it was his appearance; it was just so likeable, with his crooked teeth, unruly flaming red hair, and more-than-a-little-interesting style in clothes. Another part was his thick English accent, his unbelievable artistic ability, and his honest criticism. He was a good teacher and a real artist.
Oh, and he was complete insane.
No really!
Jenny's eyes widened as she saw him make his way over. Mr. Mod smiled pleasantly at Jenny, sitting on the edge of the table. "We're going to play a game," he announced loudly, even though he was only speaking to her.
She nodded, shrinking back in her seat, looking a little wary. There usually wasn't a right way to act around 'The Mad Mod', especially when his attention was focused purely on you.
"Say the first thing that comes to mind after each word I say,"
Again, she nodded silently. Mr. Mod smiled at her, giving a full view of his crooked teeth.
"Cracker,"
"Jacks,"
"Oooh, nice. Okay… flower,"
"Power,"
"Righteous! Alright… crush,"
"Wally West," Her pink eyes flew open, and Rachel let out a chuckle. Jenny opened and closed her mouth repeatedly before turning to Rachel, "Please, you didn't think of it as in I like him, did you? Strictly abuse wise. You know? Crush meaning… like… like… you know… punching?" she curled her hand into a fist and smashed it into her other hand to prove her point. Of course, by then, it was just pathetic.
Rachel resisted laughing only because she valued her shins, and Jenny was wearing particularly high heels today.
Meanwhile, Mr. Mod watched the scene with a trace of amusement. "Oy, hormones. What a bitch they were," he said, patting Jenny's shoulder sympathetically.
She promptly gave him her best death glare.
He smiled pleasantly at her. "Insanity!"
"…You,"
"Touché my ducky, touché. But too slow… England!"
Jenny was ready, focused this time. "Monarchy!" she said immediately.
"Money!"
"Rich!"
"Monkeys!"
"Gorillas!"
"Candy!"
"Land!"
"Hatred!"
"Unicorns!"
"And that is how it's done," Mr. Mod replied curtly, standing up. After a moment of awed silence, Rachel applauded gently, smiling in admiration.
Jenny blinked, staring in confusion. "…How did he…do that?"
"He's insane," Rachel said nonchalantly, returning to her sketch of a python, its beady eyes staring straight into her, as she shaded its body. "So… unicorns, huh?"
The pink haired girl scowled. "They're just annoying… and all… ooh-ooh-look-at-me-I'm-a-pretty-pony-whore!" She glared at the table, refusing to look at Rachel's amused face.
"My mother forced me to live 14 years of my life in a Unicorn decked out bedroom… Now just shut up and draw," Jenny growled, picking up her pencil and fiercely attacking her sketch book. She continued until the end of the class period, by then, calmed down, and focused on her drawing.
She smiled slightly, glancing over at Rachel who had been long done- the result had been incredible as usual. Mod had stared for a good four minutes, until finally giving his rare praise, which of course, Rachel had replied with a modest shake of her head. And with actual modesty, not that fake 'Oh-I-think-I'm-So-Good-But-Will-Do-Anything-For-Reassurance' kind of modesty. No, Rachel never did anything like that.
Jenny mused over this briefly, glancing over where her friend now sat, reading Pride and Prejudice, her reading glasses giving her an adorable librarian look. Even more so with her shoulder length black hair pulled into a bun. Jenny smiled at her before returning to her sketch.
Her sketch. Ugh.
…It looked like crap… she had totally messed up on the value rendering on the entire front body, one eye was slightly bigger than the other, and she learned couldn't draw hooves for shit. "Nnngh," she groaned.
"Huh. You didn't strike me as the unicorn type," A familiar, playful voice remarked from behind her.
Jenny narrowed her eyes, "And you didn't strike me as the I-Dress-In-My-Mother's-Clothes type, but life is just full of surprises, isn't it?"
And, as if on cue, the bell rang. She smirked, and walked away, leaving Wally standing there, a silly grin on his face. He watched briefly her go before promptly running to catch up with her.
Rachel observed the two of them with a smile growing on her face, before gathering her books in her arms. "See you tomorrow Mr. Mod," she called, a little sad about class being over. But as she walked out, she was immediately pounced on by Kori who linked an arm through hers, demanding to see her latest sketch.
"Because I'm a fan," Kori declared, after Rachel had questioned her. Smiling, the indigo haired girl handed her the sketchbook, more than a little touched when she saw her friend's green eyes light up with admiration. "Beautiful, Rachel," she complimented, calling over Logan so he could see. Rachel smiled, feeling that warm-fuzzy feeling overwhelm her.
She flipped through her sketch book later that day in her eighth period study hall. Her sapphire eyes dragged critically from picture to picture, eye brows rising and falling, mouth opening and closing, eyes rolling and narrowing.
Art is the love of my life and my worst enemy.
Rachel thought about that statement briefly, shuddering inwardly at how emotional she sounded.
Well, art is art, and I suck.
But she kind of liked her hatred picture. She really did hate snakes… didn't hurt that her father's company's icon was a snake. And there was nowhere else she hated more, than that company building.
So technically she hated that building. And her father.
She smirked, sarcastically muttering inwardly, Yeah, that's healthy.
Rachel traced the bold gray lines with a finger, just barely touching the paper in fear of smearing the picture.
She turned the page. A cute little sketch of Kori, smile on her face, posed on the grass with an open face and friendly look in her eyes.
Rachel smiled unintentionally, raising an eyebrow. Kori wasn't much of an artist, was a little short attention-spanned for long periods of serious deep thinking, and didn't really think about hiding her thoughts or emotions. But it was impossible to dislike her.
Rachel couldn't be bitter towards her friend, but she couldn't help feel the tiniest bit envious… not of her looks, or of her openness, or even of her ability to speak easily in public… something Rachel could never even hope to gain.
But no, none of those.
It's her gift of having nothing to hate.
The sudden thought made Rachel raise an eyebrow, remembering how Mr. Mod firmly believed that if you were human you hated something. Rachel stared into Kori's drawn eyes, wondering to herself what her best friend could possibly hate.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The school bus seat view was not something Kori would boast about. The road was a dusty, dirty gray, decorated with splotches of white and yellow street paint and electric blue graffiti. Rows and rows of houses, white, yellow, green, blue, white, red, white, blue, all the same style, all the same yard. The architect was quite a creative one…
Kori stared back up at the gray sky, trying to ignore that deep feeling of dread that had currently taken a strong hold on her. She wished, more than anything, that she was going over Rachel's, or that she could have dance class today, but it had been canceled.
Suddenly, the sun peaked out from under the gray clouds.
She closed her eyes, feeling the sun's warmth soothe her clenched eyelids, letting her shoulders relax, letting them drop.
She wasn't unhappy, she was just… preoccupied.
Yeah, with being unhappy.
No, she wasn't unhappy at all. Everything was fine, she had dancing class to look forward to tomorrow, she'd gotten an A on her English report, and she didn't have any math homework. Everything was fine.
Everything is not fine. You don't want to go home.
Well, sure, home wasn't exactly the most welcoming place at the moment, but that was an exaggeration.
Becca's home.
She let a long repressed sigh escape her, her body tensing. So what if her older sister was visiting? She should be happy.
But you aren't.
Okay, so maybe Becca was a little…
Bitchy. Evil. Bitchy. Hateful. Bitchy.
Critical, but that was nothing Kori couldn't handle. She was used to this. It was the way Becca had always been.
The way she'll always be.
"You look unusually depressed," Wally West remarked from the opposite side of her bus seat. Kori glanced at him, slightly startled.
"Depressed?" She questioned in a perky voice, "No, just tired. I'm taking an extra dancing class," She faked a yawn for the effect, but it ended up turning real.
Liar, her conscience growled at her, but she was determined to ignore it.
However, not even she, the great pretender, could convince Wally West. He was good at separating lies from truth. His gaze turned from thoughtful to a little concerned, but Kori shot him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, really,"
Luckily, or unluckily, she didn't know which to choose, the bus slowed to a stop. Her stop.
"See you tomorrow, Wally," she said quickly before he could press further. Or would he bother?
I'm having some self esteem issues today… she grumbled inwardly, as she snatched her backpack and climbed down the bus stairs. The crisp autumn air almost turned her entire mood around, as a gust of wind blew her auburn hair out of her face. She couldn't help but feel a little bit better as her black and white converses made a loud crunching sound as she trudged through her leafy front yard.
The Andrews Mansion was a very impressive site to see. It was very aged and Victorian style, with faded red bricks, iron gates surrounding the yard, appropriately placed balconies, and emerald green ivy climbing across the front of the house. Dark green, trimmed hedges surrounded the house like a guard, cut so perfectly that they seemed like blocks of dark green marble.
But it was as cold as it was striking. Kori felt the familiar chilling shiver as she walked from the cool, sweet smelling outdoors into her air conditioned, perfumed home.
"Brr!" She exclaimed to herself, slipping off her shoes as she hurried to the stairs. Kori giggled as she climbed up the blindingly clean stairs that Rachel repeatedly said were meant to be marked up with muddy footprints- just to piss off whoever built the obnoxious staircase.
"What's so funny sister dear?" Becca's velvety, seductive voice taunted from the top of the stairs.
Your face.
Kori smiled sweetly, "Nothing, just thinking about something that happened today," she lied quickly, smiling warmly. "How was your day?"
Becca didn't know the meaning of dressing for comfort. Her black hair was brushed to a shine, sitting provocatively on her shoulders. She wore a short, pleated jean mini-skirt sitting on her hips, a dark purple slim fitting tube top, with black strappy sandals. She slipped on a slim black leather jacket that set off that jet in her hair, and complimented her figure.
Knowing she wasn't going to answer the polite but unimportant question, Kori skipped past her sister, heading for her refuge, her bedroom.
"Kori," the velvety voice stopped her before she could retreat. Kori glared at the ceiling briefly before turning around, "Yes, Becca?"
"C'mon, I want to take you somewhere,"
Kori raised an eyebrow in curiosity, looking at her sister's attire, and then at her black snap on/off sweatpants with the white stripes running down the sides, and her green camisole. "Should I change?"
Becca tossed her hair, managing to smile impassively. "No, you're fine," Kori felt her spirits lift slightly, a hopeful smile growing on her face. Hope. That seemingly impossible hope that her sister would become the loving, friendly girl Kori had once known so long ago.
There were many times when she wished she could just ignore that hope, it seemed so unlikely. But, then again, who's to say what they long for?
Kori pondered this as she sat in the front seat of her sister's silver jaguar, glancing at the side of the car.
-Ten minutes later-
Red hair gathered into a long ponytail bounced up and down, as black and white converse tennis shoes hit the pavement road with each bound. The ground was a blur as Kori ran, stubborn tears hanging in her eyes, hatred pounded in her heart- sparking that adrenaline rush that made her go faster and faster and faster and just keep going and going.
"I'm a little concerned about your… weight issue," Becca said, purple eyes glinting with that familiar loathing. "Remember, as a dancer, you need to keep your figure,"
Kori nodded, looking out the window. This was typical behavior of her sister, who knew that out of everything, Kori was most self conscious about her weight. The burden of a dancer.
The car slowed to a stop. "So you're going running, little sister. It'll do you good, believe me. So run until you're as thin as… well me! …So go fast, dear!" Becca laughed, turning the radio on loud once again before Kori could reply indignantly. Then, her ebony hair flying behind her in a black whirl, leaving Kori five miles outside of town, 15 miles from her home.
Unwanted, bitter tears fell.
She stood there for a long time. Hating herself for not having the guts or the will power to do anything but do as her sister said. So she ran.
Kori bit her lip hard, hard enough for it to snap her out of her angry rampage against her sister.
Don't let her get to you. She could hear her little brother Ryan's voice commanding her, and felt her lips curve slightly. However it didn't lessen the weight of her sister's words. She always did this. Well, not exactly the abandoning Kori in the middle of no where, but the snide little weight comments.
Becca hadn't always been like this.
Kori's heart beat faster, as she ran through town, not exactly sure where she was going. Instead of panicking, she continued to run casually, knowing that sooner or later, she'd run into a familiar street.
She didn't know how long she had run, until she head a familiar male voice call you, "Kori?"
She slowed her run to jog, to a walk, and then to a stop. Panting, sweaty, and tired, she turned, smile in place. "Zachary, hi,"
Zachary studied her up and down, from feet to eyes. "What did you steal?" he asked.
She blinked. "I-I d-didn't steal anything," she stuttered, face reddening.
He smiled playfully at her, showing his surprisingly nice, white teeth. "Kori, nobody runs that fast, unless they've just stolen something,"
Taken back, she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. "No, I haven't stolen anything. I just felt like running," She shifted under his stare, aware that she was sweaty and gross.
"How far have you gone?"
Kori opened her mouth, and then closed it. She thought back to where she started, "…I began running outside of town, on Apple Gate Avenue, near the bridge?"
Zachary's mouth dropped. "Kor, that's nine miles,"
She blinked. "Oh… oh wow," He stared at her, eyebrows raised. "You actually ran all that? Why are you not on the track team? God, I can hear Wally West spazzing…" he trailed off, shaking his head at the thought.
Kori watched him, a little amused. "I don't like running all that much and I have ballet," She walked over to a nearby bench, eager to give her aching feet a rest. He followed, attention back. "So are you, like, one of those non-social ballet dancers?" He stood across from her, managing to look careless and sexy at the same time.
A red tinge warmed her cheeks. "No, but I do dance a lot,"
"What's a lot?"
"Six days a week, four hours a day,"
Zach whistled. "No kidding, care to show off?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Where?"
"Right here,"
Kori smiled slightly. "There's no music,"
"I'll sing Baby got Back,"
She was giggling now, which only spurred him forward. "Don't laugh; it's a touching song. I always get a little teary eyed at the poor shapely girls… Cosmo making fun of them and all,"
"Aww, feeling a little insecure?" She slapped a hand over her mouth instantly, but Zach still heard, and his eyebrows shot up high.
"Kori!" He gasped animatedly, grinning, "Why how… unlike you!" Embarrassment was rather becoming for her, he decided, as she giggled.
"You're just annoyed because I've figured you out,"
Was she flirting with him? Zach chuckled, but rose to the verbal spar challenge. "…You got me," He raised his hands high. "I have low confidence for my chubby appearance," Her laughter rang in his ears, and he chuckled with her. She rose up to his remark, "Not chubby, curvy. Because real men have real curves,"
Zach let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. "You surprised me, cutie, I didn't think you were quite so…"
"Witty? Intelligent? Beautiful?" She implored, batting her eyelashes coyly.
He smirked. Okay, now she was definitely flirting with him. "I was going to say amusing, but at risk of keeping my balls, I'll add that I already knew you were witty, intelligent, and beautiful,"
She kicked an empty Pepsi can in his direction, though he still had her smiling. And then it dawned on him… He was actually joking around, possibly even flirting with Kori Andrews. The school Snow White. Pristine, sweet, and pretty. One of the untouchables for guys like him.
Kori stood, stretching. "I should probably get going if I want to get back home in time for dinner," Zach nodded, realizing she was probably recognizing the strange territory they were treading. He felt a small sense of disappointment at her leaving. She really was pretty cute when she was laughing.
"Want a ride home?"
...Did I say that? He wondered, watching as she turned back to him, a smile growing on her soft lips.
…Soft lips… Wow, this is getting pretty pathetic. Even for me.
She shuffled her feet, "I'd love to, actually, if you really don't mind,"
He waved his hand, shaking his head. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't mind,"
"Of course you would, it's polite," she said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. But he couldn't really be annoyed by it, she was so different from the girls he usually hung out with. If anything, it was kind of a relief.
He smirked at her, scooting a little closer to her. "Yeah, well, I'm not polite," She stared at him, unsure of how to respond. He smiled, loving her discomfort… Oh; she would be so fun to tease. "C'mon," he said, suddenly backing away, "My ride's this way,"
She stood rooted for a few seconds before following. "What do you drive?" she asked timidly, trying to make conversation.
"You'll see," he said mysteriously, leading her to the back of a 7Eleven, where his baby was parked. She gasped, paling a little. "You… But… a motorcycle?"
Zachary grinned. Maybe he was enjoying this a little too much… "Something wrong Princess?"
Kori blinked. "No, not at all… it's just… I've never ridden on one before," Her green eyes took in the motorcycle; it was a jet black, clean and polished, the typical red flames near the end. It was well taken care of, and clearly very loved.
"It's gorgeous," she added quickly. Zachary glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "You like it? Really?"
She nodded eagerly, "I love it! Did you buy it?"
He stared at the bike fondly before shaking his head. "No, a gift. You ready?" He climbed on easily, tossing her his one helmet. "I only have one; it's a bitch to get on though,"
Kori nodded, taking out her long pony-tail before putting the helmet on. She fiddled with the straps for a few minutes before Zach motioned her towards him. She blushed, "It's hard," she muttered, a little flustered.
He grinned at her. "I know, didn't I tell you?" He leaned forward towards her, from his sitting position. "Come a little closer," he said. She obeyed, moving a couple inches toward him.
He chuckled, "I won't eat you," He grabbed the bottom of her shirt, pulling her forward, revealing, for a few moment, a patch of smooth, tan skin. It hit him at how intimate that gesture could be.
Seconds later, the helmet was tightly secure. Kori's face couldn't have been any redder, as she hoisted herself onto the bike, scooting away from Zach a little, although she was already a little too close for comfort.
In the front, Zach smirked, ready to give her the ride of her life. "Ready?" he called over the roar of the engine.
"…No…!" She squeaked, a little scared.
"Too bad," he called, starting off, picking up speed with each second as he flew down the streets. Kori let out a short shriek, and held him for dear life, modesty forgotten.
Zach laughed aloud, driving faster, now getting out of the busy streets. Kori pressed herself up against him, but lifted her face from his shirt. The wind blew through her hair, as the earth whipped around her, a blur of colors on the street below them. She smiled, a thrill growing inside her as he picked up speed.
And then they were on the highway. That's when the real fun began, as Zachary burst into speed, racing down the highway, the tune to Born to be Wild playing loudly in his head.
As for Kori… she didn't know if she had ever had so much fun in her life. "Faster!" she called out, not sure if he had heard her, but he obeyed either way, picking up more speed.
She squealed allowed, chilled by the fast moving wind, thrilled by the speed, and grinned involuntarily. This was, by far, the happiest she had been for weeks. Maybe even months.
The speed continued for minutes until she realized that they were heading in the opposite direction of her house. She smiled evilly, letting him go for a couple more minutes before making herself tell him.
A couple minutes later, Zachary slowed to a stop, feeling the adrenaline rush leave him. "We're here!" he announced loudly tossing his brown hair out of his eyes. Kori held in a sigh, but smiled, reluctantly getting off the motorcycle. "That was…"
He got ready for her fearful input.
"Incredible."
"Well, I guess it's a guy thing-what?" He stared at her. "Really? You liked it?"
She spun around, still hyper from the thrill, "I loved it! You must promise me that you'll give me a ride again," Her green eyes danced with delight, and Zachary found himself quite beyond his control.
"Sure thing, cutie,"
She grinned. "Do you swear?"
"Every damn day,"
She rolled her eyes, still smiling. "You know what I mean. And that was a complete rip off The Mummy,"
He stared at her. "You've watched The Mummy?"
"It's only one of my favorite movies," she retorted, taking off the helmet. She hugged it to her, close, smiling at the bike.
Zachary blinked. MARRY ME.
He shook his head. "Wow, Andrews, you didn't seem the type," He shook his head, turning his bike on again. Turning back at her, he smiled at her wistful expression. "I swear," he reassured, "Anytime you need a ride, just tell me, Princess,"
And with that, drove off, leaving Kori standing there, watching him go with a happy grin on her face. She hugged the helmet to her, and glanced back down at it in surprise. "Oh… gosh darn it," She said in a fake, sad voice, still grinning. She it closer to her, spinning around on her driveway before dancing her way back to her room, to the safety of her bedroom.
She closed her eyes and felt the wind whip across her face, her hair flying back, the world in a blur around her. Kori crashed onto her bed, wondering to herself how there could ever be a greater high than that.
Self criticism: Unorganized, beginning unrelated to ending, and overly detailed.
Self Praise: …I kind of liked my The Mummy reference. :-) Which I do not own. I don't own Born to be Wild either… good song though.
Mad Mod is, by far, my favorite villain to use in AU's.
Anyways, I want to thank: RedXStarRob, D-I-WaRrIa, Epiff Annie, Spead-My-Wingz-And-Soar, SushiChica, Valda, FallenTeenHearts, xox.Annie Potter.xox, Shay Bo Bay, and amande-san1491.
Thank you so much for your reviews!
…Speaking of which...
:-)
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-Miss Rosie Real-