Author's Note: Whoopie Doo, when was the last time I wrote the last chapter? [I have no idea] Well I guess I really got off topic in the plot, so this fanfic is gonna be ridiculously long now! I'm gonna write super long chapters to try and squeeze everything in together. Hope you enjoy!
P.S. I wrote this in about 5 minutes, please excuse my scrawl.
I stand outside the curb watching my mom's car driving smoothly into the school's pick-up driveway. The black, spotless minivan drives up in front of me without a single sound. Kids all around hustled and bustled, tired from a long day of school. I swung my backpack over my shoulder and slid the car door open. My mom looks at me from behind and gives me a sweet, loving smile.
"Hey Mommy," I said, as I climb in my booster seat, clicking the seat belt in place.
"Hey Sweet Pea," She replies, her voice cool and soothing, "How was school today?"
"Fine," I lied, looking out the window. Some of the other parents who walk their kids home looked enviously at us. I have to say, this car practically costs a fortune, and with a hot brunette mom driving it? Who wouldn't be jealous!
My mom gives the observers a little wave, her slender fingers moving gracefully. She smiles at me in the rear view mirror, her white eye-burning teeth flashing at me. Her soft, brown eyes sharp and careful.
She starts driving slowly, down the turn lane, around the school, and we're about to take a turn into the road when she slams onto the brakes. I jolt forward suddenly, my seat belt slamming me back into my seat.
"Cammie," my mom says, her voice in a frantic, "Cammie, honey, who is that boy?" She points across the street at a brown head, who's eyes were green. He was waving gently at us, his smirk wide and strong. His flannel floating the breeze.
"That's Zach mom, he's a new student," I replied my face glued to the window.
My mom turns around the study me, a tiny flick of fear sparkles in her eyes. A car from behind honks at us and my mom slowly pulls out into the road, driving past Zach standing on the sidewalk.
We're about half-way home when my mom suddenly speaks, breaking the silence,
"Tell me about this kid, Cam. What's he like?"
I just shrug, "I don't know mom, he's quite strange." I couldn't tell her that I told our big secret, I couldn't tell her that he could climb a 40 foot tree, because I was up there too, I couldn't tell her that I liked him either. I could hear the crack in her voice.
"Cammie, dear, listen to me," She pulls up into our driveway, "Stay away from that boy, do you hear me, Cameron Ann Morgan? You stay away from that boy," She turns around to look at me again, her eyes full of fear, her voice trembling.
There was something about the way her lips twitched that I didn't dare to answer.
We both unbuckle our seat belt and walk into the house.
It's morning recess. The air is soft and the sky is aqua, lightening up everyone's mood instantly. I walk awkwardly down the pavement and into the huge playground. We share morning recess with the entire school, unluckily for me, I am already trampled by the kids in my grade, and now it's the entire school walking square on my face.
A fourth grader, who's blond, golden hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, walked by me, her backpack giving me a big push backwards. Her little posse followed right behind, their matching pink skirts followed her like clones.
It's snack time. The time in school in which I actually enjoy. This week? Skittles, my favorite. Mrs. Wieber gives everyone a small pack and we all excitedly opens our package, colorful skittles spilling out everywhere. I dump mine out on my table, pushing them in an area so they don't roll off. I pick off all the orange ones and set them aside. Then, I take the rest and jams them into my jean pocket. Here's the silly thing about me: I only eat the orange skittles. You'd probably think that's strange [which it really is] but orange is just my favorite flavor. I love the way it tastes inside my mouth. I love the bright color of orange. Yea, I know, I'm weird, I get that a lot.
I pop an orange skittle in my mouth and let it soften until I chew on it. Someone taps on my shoulder, I look up, startled. A pair of brown eyes stare into mines. It was Andrea Nguyen, the girl that sits behind me.
"Hey, you're Cammie, right?" She says, her long, black hair glistening in the sunlight. I gotta admit, when she said that, the words pierced that me like an arrow. I mean, I sat in front of the girl for almost every single class and subject. She lives across the block from me, and we've basically known each other ever single preschool.
"Um… yea," I replied, looking her up and down.
Andrea had just about the most glowing skin in the world. Her complexions was just right. It wasn't too tan, and wasn't too pale. Her eyes were large and daring, and she was sweet and fair. And then it hit me. This was a little suspicious, I mean, Andrea was Maracelle's best friend. The two pretty much makes a perfect pair. They were both popular, both gorgeous, both good at art, and both smart. But someone as sweet as Andrea just doesn't go along with evil little Maracelle.
They always walked arm in arm, walking across the playground, their little posse following them around, obeying their every command, or should I say, Maracelle's command. Even though Andrea was nicer than Maracelle, Maracelle just simply excels her in everything, by just a little. Maracelle was just a little prettier, just a little more popular, just a little more… perfect.
Andrea reaches out her clenched hands and opens them, looking down upon them, I saw a stash of orange skittles. I gasp a little.
"It's for you." She says, I didn't dare reach up to grab them, even though I wanted to, very badly.
Andrea laughs a little, "Go on, take them. I've watched you all year, sorting out the orange skittles, and only eating the orange skittles. I thought maybe you should have mine,"
Possibilities swarm through me. What did she do to them? Did Maracelle poison them and told her to give them to me? I didn't know why, but I hands reached out, and Andrea dumped the orange skittles into my palm.
She rests her chin on her hands and smiles warmly at me. I pick one of them up with my other hand, and smelled them. It didn't smell poisonous. They were a little damp, from the heat of Andrea's body, but I didn't mind. I pop one in my mouth, waited it to soften, and then chews it slowly.
I felt my pulse. I wasn't dying, wasn't puking, wasn't choking. I look up at Andrea, and smile at her, REAL big.
"Thanks," I reply simply, unable to say more. Andrea was still smiling, her grin wide and stretching a mile a minute. And then, just like that, it disappeared. Wiped off her face faster than light.
She stared blankly behind me, and I slowly turn around to be facing a white-laced dress, who's body belonged to- Maracelle.
"ANDREA!" She screamed, hands on her hips, head cocked, eyebrows narrow. She scrunched her lips together, "What are you doing? Giving your candy to this-" She looks at me, "thing,"
I bolt upright, fist clenched, teeth grinding.
"I can assure you, Maracelle Langsdorf, that I am not a THING," I shove myself at her, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see her flinch a bit.
"Whatever," she replies, unable to say anymore. She turns her attention back to Andrea, "Next time, when you even think about betraying me, you'll regret your every nerve."
And with a flip of her hair, she turns around and walks back to her desk. To my surprise, no one stared at us, no one noticed a thing.
Zach's hand jumps into the air and he practically shouts, "MRS. WIEBER! MAY I USE THE RESTROOM!" Without even an answer from our teacher, he scrapes his chair back, and briskly walks out the door.
Coincidental, I swallowed my skittle without chewing it, and it traveled down my body. URGH. Heart Burn.
I raised my hand, "Mrs. Wieber? May I get a drink?" She looks up at me, and nods slowly
I fly out the door and ran towards the drinking fountain down the hall pass the North exit.
After getting 17 gulps of water, the heart burn died down and I was back to normal.
I sighed, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. I walked back down the hallway, and when passing the North exit, something, or should I say someone, caught my eye.
Zach was outside the school, again. He was covering one ear with his hand, and was talking into the phone. I couldn't help but slid below, where there was so glass to see through. I pressed my ear against the door, and the words came clearer than I thought.
"Yes, yes. Yes, I know, I won't screw up, I promise," there was a pause, "Yes, yes sir, the subject has not made contact," there was another pause, "I know, will you hold on, sir? It seems like there's a little birdie listening on my conversation,"
And before I could run, the door opened and I fell forward from leaning against the door.
He stares down at me, eyes gleaming with hysterical, "I'm gonna have to call you back sir," and with that, he claps the phone shut, and leans against the wall, eyes still glued on me. A glint of amusement crossed his face.
"Spying on me, are you now, Cammie?"