Hey, I'm updating a new chappie, and this one's longer. Enjoy!
Well, you will enjoy if you read it.
And it was my birthday a few days ago, well, not really a few days ago. It was more like a few weeks ago, but it would have been my birthday a few days ago if I had updated when I was supposed to. Sorry. I've been busy. Again. My apologies.
I am now 18! Yay!
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I awoke abruptly, sweat pouring down my face.
Lifting my head up off my bed (just to make sure I am in bed) I discover that I've a major headache coming on. I slowly let my head drop back down onto the pillow.
As I lie back down, thoughts start to fly across my mind. They go something like this: I've had that dream before, if you can really call it a dream and not some nightmare from hell. All that stuff: the doors, the Hall. Fog. What can it all mean?
I've got to relax. It's just a dream.
Relax. Breathe in. Breathe Out. Breathe I---
Just then, in the middle of my breathe in, Dana barges into the dorm screaming. I realize, from the clock sitting on my bedside table, that it is already ten thirty, and I have about thirty minutes to get to English class.
Dana's screaming worsens the pain inhibiting my head. I try to make the screaming stop by voicing out a feeble, "make it quiet again."
God, what could she possibly be screaming about this early in the morning?
"Suze, guess what, guess what!" she squeals, a slow smile spreading across her face.
"You got perfect on your biology assignment," I say unenthusiastically, closing my eyes in a sad attempt to try to get back to sleep (even though I should really be getting ready for class).
"No," she says, shaking her head so hard that her hair flutters back and forth across her face. "Guess!"
I try to mentally shut out Dana's voice by squeezing my eyes really tight. This convinces me further that 'mind over matter' is just a bunch of bull as Dana's voice, contrary to my mind's desires, only gets louder.
"Oh, come on," she says, trying to drag me out of bed. She lifts up my head and bores her blue eyes into my sleepy ones. "Matt asked me out…again!" she squeals, pulling my head to one side while smiling in this crazed sort of way, "but, this time I said yes, that I'd go out with him. I mean, I was afraid to say yes the first time because it obviously wouldn't have gone anywhere," she continues, pulling my head to the other side, giving me a very distorted view of her face, making her look a little possessed, "…. I wasn't going to stay in school but now I might be…" she continues saying, now violently shaking my face, "…that you entered the contest…and it doesn't seem as pointless…blah blah blah," more talk, eyes are closing "…. blah blah blah."
She can really let it loose when she wants to, I swear. I don't know how I managed to escape her grasp, but I did, gulping down three Tylenols on my way out no less.
On my way to class I managed, lucky me, to bump into Jesse, who told me that I look like crap, though not in such derogatory terms. I mean, we're talking about Jesse here. He never says crap, or at least I've never heard him say it. I don't know really know though, maybe, and it's a bighesitant maybe, he says it when he's out with his friends or...
Anyway, back on track, after his commentary, I told him, sarcastically, how pleased I was to at least once in my life receive a compliment from him.
That comment earned me a look from the Jesse, and a smile, reluctantly let out. Then he walked off, shrugging his shoulders in this exasperatted sort of way. I can't say I blame him for giving up on me so fast. I'm a heck to deal with.
Can you believe, that after the Dana torture and Jesse commentary, I still wasn't late for class? I know. I was amazed too. I came just in time to hear Mrs. Johnson screech the next lesson to us. Lucky is me.
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Guess what? (Damn, I'm becoming like Dana) After class, like, right after class, guess who I ran into? (I'm truly a Dana clone) It was that Paul guy, the one I met at the mall, or at the grocery store or wherever, where I was buying junk food.
This is how it went: I was walking out of English class totally not looking where I was going when I ran smack into him, afterwards apologizing for my moment of utter stupidity. HE, the Paul dude, didn't seem to mind at all, in fact, after I annoyed the heck out of him with my complaint about teachers who screech when they talk into their microphone (i.e Mrs. Johnson), he asked me if maybe I wanted to "go out for some coffee sometime or something."
But, I told him, like the dumb moron that I am (completely not realizing that he was sort of maybe asking me out) that I didn't want to go get some coffee with him sometime. Well, not in those exact words, but he still got the drift.
I must have been so drugged at the time, because the guy, this Paul fella, yeah, uh, he was HOT. Like, way way way hot, and I, me, drugged loser, just gave up an opportunity to go out with a hunk like him.
Was that the dumbest move ever performed by the oh-so-talented Suze? I think that ranks pretty high up there, right along with the ice-cream-tied-around-the-head incident. I must tell Dana to tell Paul that I "said no to the coffee getting because I'm kind of busy now---and "sorry I sort of snapped at him" perched somewhere in between that sentence there---but maybe we can get the coffee some time later, like tomorrow."
I better go tell Dana right now, before I forget.
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"No, mov' dis vay, bend like zat, not like zat," Boris instructed. I don't really know what the difference between "zat" and "zat" is, but what I begin doing seems to work, so go me. And, hear this, I've only stepped on Jesse once. ONCE. Now that is truly an accomplishment.
I was especially happy today, compliments to the fact that I, me, was going to go "grab a coffee" with the hot Paul fella right after dance class. I told Dana to tell Paul that I was sorry for snapping at him earlier and I that I do really really want to go out for a coffee with him. Paul, as Dana told me, accepted the apology and told her to tell me that I should meet him tomorrow (which is really today, Tuesday) at Starbucks at eight.
I was so happy I could hardly breathe. A real boy wanted to go get some coffee with me, and he wasn't at all repulsed by my appearance. Like, how many times does that happen?
Not too often.
So, as I was thinking how this was totally too good to be true, I accidentally ended up stepping on Jesses' extra long pants and falling, quite inelegantly, on my butt.
That earned me some more shouting from Boris, who told me I should look where I'm going: "Luk vere go, idiat."
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No! No! No! I am SO late. Oh please please don't leave. It's TWENTY past eight. Boris kept us in extra late trying to convince me that the hips are not just two giant floorboards, that, yes they can move and stuff.
I argued the opposite, stating that no matter what you did to them, my hips were going to stay as stiff as the wall.
And now I'm late.
For a date.
With a hot mate.
And I know I can't rhyme to save my life.
Gosh, I just hope that Paul's still there. If something out there in the world loves, or fancies me even just a little, I hope they can keep him there until I arrive.
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No, nothing out there loves, fancies, or tolerates me at all. AT. ALL. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Hunky Paul was gone when I arrived. He must think I stood him up. I'll bet he'll never again bother to ask me out, or much less talk to me. Ever.
Why? Why must this happen to me? Is this the price I have to pay for being a compulsive liar? Well, when you think about it, I did sort of deserve that.
Sadly, I head on home, back to my lonely, air-conditionless dorm.
When I arrived at my dorm, I told Dana to tell Paul (Oh god, how many times must this pass-this-on-to-Paul-thing happen?), when she next saw him, that I did not stand him up, that I was released late from work (I forbade her to tell him the actual reason for my lateness, which was, of course, dance class), and I hope he isn't mad.
I really hope he isn't mad, because if he is there goes my chance with the only boy who would ever dare to ask me out.
I am now sulking in front of my homework, too upset to digest the material that Mr. Borcowitz tried so hard to force into our unwilling minds.
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Josh called me. Uh huh. THE Josh. I'm amazed. All the embarrassment you can possibly throw a guy has been thrown, and he still comes back.
What does he possibly see in me?
A good murder victim?
I'm kind of honored to be the CHOSEN one. Kind of freaked. But nonetheless honored.
Out of all the potential girls, he chose me as the one he wants to kill. How sweet.
I really must get on with the case. I mean REALLY get on with it, before any more funny business begins. Like, I know he is planning another murder, and that is not the kind of stuff I'm looking forward to, especially if his next victim might be, well, ME.
Oh yeah, let's get back to the Josh called me. He asked me if I was mad because of what happened at the restaurant. After what seemed like hours of reassuring him that "no, I was not mad," he finally left the subject alone and got onto the subject of me, of me meeting him. Of US coming together in a formal meetage---pardon the made-up word---party.
I say yes, of course. I'd love to meet him. Again.
I also said that he is the greatest guy I've ever been out with. Only I never mentioned that he was the only guy I've EVER been out with.
All in all, he seemed really happy.
Oh, and he's picking me up at my dorm building on Saturday. At eight.
We're going somewhere (duh), only I don't know where cause he wouldn't tell me. Is that a good sign?
Whatever. I am back in business.
And onto my next class----which is sociology, by the way.
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A/N: Sorry this one is short too, but I wanted to update as soon as possible. I promise I'll update again before school starts.