A/N: Heya! Long time, no update, huh? Sorry about that. It's just been a little hectic lately, but everything seems to be straightening out, so I should be able to update a bit more often. Sound good? KK. On with the story.
P.S. Don't worry, MCR will be in it soon, if that's what your reading this for. If not...just enjoy the ride! Thanks for all ur guys' patience. Really appreciate it. :D Over-exagerated smiley face for you!
Chapter 2: Embracing Your Masculine Side....ALOT
Blair's POV
I sat on the egde of my bed, swinging my legs impatiently while Maggie and Devon sat on my bedroom floor, sifting through files of papers. The dead guys applications, to be exact. Devon had called up his cousin or whoever yesterday, and somehow gotten ahold of the files. So here we sat, trying to find the application to St. James. This was our first order of business in the plan. After we found the application, we would call the school and ask where we could send it in. And then we'd get me all...boyish and go from there.
"I swear they were talking about him having applied there." Devon muttered outloud, flipping through the files in an irritated way. "I mean...I think he was even filling it out when I was at his house." Maggie was sifting anxiously as well. If the application wasn't in there, we'd have to come up with an identity for me. Then a thought sparked in my mind.
"Guys...don't they do extensive background checks on the students? Don't you think it'd be a little weird if they found out I was supposed to be dead?" I hopped off the bed and peered over Devon's shoulder. Mason Xavier Foster was written at the top of every application. "Is that my new name?" I added on at the end, out of the blue.
"Yup." Devon stated simply, tossing aside the folder he'd been flipping through and picking up a new one, not yet explored. "And...you shouldn't worry about the death thing. Mason was homeschooled his whole life, so their's no record of him having died with the schools, and believe it or not, they're not THAT careful with who they let in there. Some drug dealer got in a couple months back and turned six kids there into devoute crack users. Nice, huh? It was in the news."
I scanned my eyes over the papers discarded and dumped on the floor. At the corner of one paper, I could see the letters St. J-- The rest was cut off by an application to some other bording school in the town about a two hours drive from here. I grabbed the one for St. James, and held it up victoriously. "Found it!" I exclaimed, tossing it to Devon. He glanced over it.
"Okay..." he said, still devouring the paper with his eyes. "Your new name: Mason Xavier Foster. You live in with your Mom, Taylor, and your father, Jarod. You have no siblings. You're sixteen. Your birthday is April 22nd. And you have never been arrested, gotten a ticket, and you have a GPA of 3.8. Wow...you're a goody two-shoes." I punched Devon's shoulder before hopping up and beginning to pace.
"Relax..." Maggie said in that soothing voice of hers. "We still have two more days until the year starts at St. James. Just chill. We'll work it out." I couldn't help but freak out a bit, though. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. And two days really wasn't that long at all.
"Oh...why did I ever let you talk me into this?!" I groaned anxiously, stopping my pacing and sinking down onto my bed again and clutching the sheets. "Damn you and your persuasive qualities." Maggie grinned broadly, as though I were giving her compliments.
"You did it because you love me. You said so yourself. Now quit whining so we can actually acomplish something here." I rolled my eyes. This advice was coming from the girl who, just minutes ago, had insisted upon parading around in my mom's prom dress while listening to the song Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndie Lauper.
"Oh yes Maggie," I said, laying the sarcasm on thickly, "You are truly the most commited person I have ever met." She shrugged and went back to shoving files un-organizedly into the box Devon had brought them in.
"Well...okay, looks like everything's all good. Now we just need to call the school and set up this application thingy." Devon said, hopping up and dashing down the stairs to go find our seldom used phone book. I think it was probably burried under a stack of Home and Garden magazines somewhere. Who knows...he might not be back for hours. I grabbed the application once more and gave it a quick once over. Then I caught something.
"We should change the contacts." I said to Maggie, pointing to the list of phone numbers it said you could reach the parents at. She glanced down from doing her eyeliner and nodded, agreeing with me. "What about if we give them your number?" I suggested, grabbing a pen from under my bed (I had a small collection of things under my bed from years of lack of cleaning.)
"Uh uh. My parents may never be home, but they check their messages all the time. What if the school calls while we're not there, and they leave a message? My parents would wonder what the hell was going on. They'd probably call the school, and then everything would just crash and burn. My number is not a good idea." I shrugged. It was just an idea.
"How about Devon's number, then. His mom never checks the messages, she's always too something or another to do anything." Devon's mom was an alcholic, and I felt bad sometimes because it was really hard on him. Mrs. Wilde was really a nice lady, but after Devon's dad died in a car crash two years back, she'd been a mess. Booze and smoking and partying. She was hardly ever home. Her abscence, I think, is probably one of the reasons Devon sleeps around so much. I think he's trying to fill the hole in his heart with something, anything. Because it's the closest he can get to the real thing. He may not look it on the outside, but Devon is actually a very sensitive guy.
Excuse me for getting all deep and stuff, I just thought I might explain. I crossed out the original phone numbers and wrote in Devon's number for the home phone, and his and Maggie's cell phone numbers for emergency contacts. "Okay...its all good. You guys have caller ID on your phones, right? We wanna be able to tell when the school is calling so we don't pick up and go, like, 'whassup?!' or something." Maggie nodded, still preoccupied with getting her liner JUST right. I rolled my eyes.
Suddenly Devon was walking into the room, the phone book under his arm. "Okay, Mag, you wanna do the honors, or should I? We are the parents after all." Maggie squealed excitedly and darted for the phone.
"Oooh! My turn to play undercover! What's my name again?" After we informed her that her name was Taylor Foster, she proceeded to dial the number we had managed to locate in the phone book. After a few rings, it seemed to pick up, 'cause she started speaking in an imitation womanly voice. It was pretty bad, but we'd have to make do. "Hello, yes, this is Taylor Foster calling. I was just wondering, what is the process of applying to your school? I know it's on very short notice, but we made a last minute decision, and your school seems excellent." She winked at me and Devon. "Yes, I'll hold for a moment."
She placed her palm over the end of the phone. "How am I doing?" she whispered. We both nodded encouragingly and waited to be connected again. "Yes...oh...an appointment?" Maggie said once someone was on the line again. I gulped. Oh shit! Holy mother of Ghandi! What were we gonna do?! "Umm...yes...yes, of course. Tomorrow? I think I can get that in. Yes, we'll drop the application off then. Thankyou. Alright, you too." And she hung up. I sprung forward.
"Maggie! We can't go to an appointment! I don't have any parents, remember?!" I exclaimed, shaking her by the shoulders. Devon grabbed my waist from where he was sitting and pulled me back until I landed with a thud on the floor in front of him.
"Blair, chill. I have a plan." Maggie said, getting that gleam in her eye she always gets. Usually right before someone ends up in the ER with a broken arm. (The summer of fourth grade + a game of tag in the woods + and an unstable log = a few weeks in a plaster casing.) I tried to stay calm while Maggie explained. "It's simple. Me and Devon will just be the parents." My jaw dropped open at her stupidity.
"Um...Mag, I hate to break it to you, but if that were the case, you'd've had to have given birth to Blair while you were still in the womb." Devon pointed out. Maggie rolled her eyes.
"We'd have to put on disguises, dumbass. I'm not THAT stupid and ridiculous." Me and Devon just looked at eachother. "So we get Devon a fake moustache and I put on a wig and some glasses, and you get all dressed up as a dude, and BAM! We're one big, happy family. How hard can it be?" I still couldn't believe this, and apparently, neither could Devon, 'cause he just sat there shaking his head. "C'mon you guys. If Blair can dress up as a guy, I think we can pull off looking a little older. It's not like we have to be fifty. We just need to look...maybe....thirty. Let's just say you got me pregnant really young." Devon grimaced.
"Okay, eww..." was all he said. I giggled at his reaction.
"C'mon, Dev. You'd get to wear a fake moustache." she said in a fake, cooing voice. That's when Devon hesitated. His hmmm-that-might-actually-be-kinda-fun look came over his features, and he soon agreed. "So it's settled, then. The meeting's at noon tomorrow. I think it's high time we ran out and bought some disguises, don't you agree?" Devon hopped up, eager to paste a french moustach on his upper lip, or something. I followed reluctantly. Something tells me today is going to be a LONG day.
Two Walmart trips, and a stop at shotty downtown disguise shop later, Devon was dropping me off at my house. We had kicked Maggie out about five minutes earlier at her house, and now we were just pulling into my driveway, singing along to But It's Better if You Do by Panic at the Disco. Devon pulled the car to a stop and killed the music, waiting for me to hop out. I was riding in the front this time. As I slid out the door, Devon spoke up.
"Hey, Blair?" he said, grabbing my elbow to stop me from leaving.
"Mmmmhmmm?" was all I could manage, as I was currently chowing down on beef lo mein from the chinese fast food place on main.
"You okay with going through with this tomorrow?" He was talking, of course, about our little situation.
"What? You mean the plan where I have to dress up as a dude, impersonate a dead guy, and spy on a bunch of assholes who probably have tea and crumpets for breakfast?" Devon just looked at me pointedly, telling me to ditch the sarcasm. This was his serious side, peeking out from under that hyperactive exterior. I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I'm okay. I mean...it's for Maggie, right? She's my best friend. I'd do anything for her. And if that means taping down my boobs, or lack there of, and wearing a sweater vest for a few days, then I'll do it." Devon smirked.
"'Kay. We'll come over around nine tomorrow to help you embrace the man within you and shit. Not sure how long it'll take us to get ready and stuff, but it's a half hour drive up there, so we're starting early. Get some sleep, 'kay?" I smirked.
"Sure thing, Mom. Anything else you want to tell me before I go? Eat my vegetables? Wear a coat when I go outside?" He snorted and started pulling out of the driveway. I blew him an over-exagerated kiss as he sped away, and then skipped inside. "I'm home!" I called when I got in. The house was dark, and no one was answering me. I thought for a minute.
Okay...possible explanations for this: A) My family was brutally murdered by a psycho killer who's waiting for me upstairs, B) They are being held against their will by a terrorist organization for ransom, or C) They left the house. Knowing my luck, it's probably some sort of twisted combination of all three, but I was hungry and there was pizza in the fridge. I decided that pepperoni was more valuable than my life, and if I were to die, I'd want to do it eating pizza. Hence, I trudged onward through the dark house.
I skidded around the corner and pulled open the fridge door, quickly locating the pizza box. Yum! Reaching for it, I realized a post-it note had been slapped on the front of the box. I recognized it as my mom's handwriting. That, and only she would know that the only way I would ever have found the note was if it were taped to a pizza box. I....am pathetic.
Blair,
Me and Chris had to run out to pick up the dresses and stuff for Aunt Trish's wedding. The way to the dress shop is two hours both ways, so we should be back by nine. (Sorry! No crazy house parties for you!) Hope you had fun today, you were out for awhile. This is the part where you say "I love you, Mom." , and I would say "I love you too, Bug."
xoxo, Mom
P.S. I ate the last piece of pepperoni. Whoops...hehe :D
I rolled my eyes. Bug had been my nickname since I can't remember when. "How can you love me if you've taken the last slice of pepperoni?!" I said in pretend increduality, flipping the box open to see if she was just teasing me. But, sure enough, only sausage was left. I hate sausage. It should be illegal. I stuck it back in the fridge, and settled on a giant bowl of Cocoa Puffs that had been decomposing in the back of my cupboard for several months. But hey...Cocoa Puffs are Cocoa Puffs.
Glancing at the clock, I realized it was only 6:00 p.m. What to do for another three hours? I thought for a minute. Well...what better to do for three hours than watch The Shining?! Stephen King's version, not the original. I stuck it in the DVD player and settled on the couch with a Cherry 7Up and my Cocoa Puffs.
I was just getting to the part where they lock the dad in the closet when my cellphone started to ring.
"She's hot like wasabi! Looks like a barbie! She's way too hot for me!" blared out of my tiny device. Maggie. I flipped it open, not bothering to pause the movie. I've seen it a million times.
"What's crackin', Magpie?" She snorted on the other end.
"Whatcha doin'?" She said in a sing-song voice that could only be described as criminally insane material. I shrugged, the purpose defeated, as she couldn't see me.
"Just watching The Shining." I said half-heartedly, slightly tired from our long day. There was a pause.
"Oh...okay. We're picking you up at nine tomorrow. Have fun watching Wendy get her fuses blown or whatever it is happens in that movie. I haven't seen it in years. Bye!" And with that she hung up. I wasn't even going to begin to wonder. Maggie did that all the time. Where she'd call me, ask me a random question, make a comment and then hang up. She was weird like that. I guess I was more tired than I thought, because before I knew it, I was drifting off.
Ahhh...the sweet, sweet blackness of closed lids, drifting in and out of a peacefull sleep. I was vaguely aware of the din of far away noise, and the distinct smell of something I couldn't pinpoint. French toast, perhaps. It smelled cinnamonny. And then the noise became louder. Clattering and shifting and sizzling. A faint chortle of attempted quiet laughter. And then I could feel stares baring down at me in all directions.
My eyes shot open, and what I saw had me tumbling off the couch. Maggie started to laugh hysterically, sinking down onto the coffee table as I tried to pull myself up. Her face had been about half an inch from mine when I'd opened my eyes.
"Here's Johnny!" she said, quoting the original Shining.
"That's not the version I watched." I grumbled, hobbling towards Devon, who was sitting at the kitchen table, eating french toast. My mom was at the stove. "How the hell did you even get in my house?" I said grumpily, sitting down next to Devon.
"Blair Christine Hunter, watch your language in my house." my mom complained from the stove, brandishing a spatula. I apologized and awaited my answer.
"Your mom let us in. Now hurry up and eat and stuff. We have alot of work to do." Maggie said.
"What're you guys doing, anyways? You got here awful early." My mom questioned, setting a plate of french toast in front of me. We all exchanged looks.
"Umm...we're gonna help Maggie with an article she's doing for the school paper." I said, not really wanting to lie to my Mom. I mean, sometimes was okay, but if I could avoid it, I usually told the truth. She trusted me and all.
"Oh? What's it on that you have to be up so early for?" I almost groaned. Why did my Mom pick now, of all times, to pry? I knew she was just curious, but still.
"I'm actually doing it on this boarding school for boys called St. James. Just odds and ends about it. I have an interview with the headmaster at noon, and I need Devon to drive me up there, and Blair just offered to come along." Maggie didn't want to lie to my Mom either. She was good at coming up with cover-up stories, though. And everything she'd just said was true, for the most part. My mom nodded.
Then I remembered the other part of our plan. Getting me out of the house for a little bit. "Ummm, mom?" I tried to get out through a mouthfull of french toast. "Um, Mag is going up to her cabin until the first of september, and she was wondering if I could stay with her." My mom thought for a minute.
"Isn't that the day before you go back to school?" she questioned, oh so mom-ishly. I fought back a gulp.
"Well, yeah...I guess it is. But...um...we were just--" I stopped when I saw that my mom was smiling.
"Oh what the heck." she said, giving a short laugh. "Why not. When are you going up there, Maggie?" I rose my eyebrows. Either somebody spiked the french toast, or she was in a REALLY good mood today.
"We're planning on going up on the 28th, so...in about two days." Maggie answered promptly, looking very pleased that everything was working out so well. My mom went back to thinking. Flipping her mental calendar.
"That should work. The only thing you would miss is the barbeque at Mrs. Daniel's, and it's not like that's something you HAVE to go to, or anything. Yeah...that sounds good. Okay...28th: Mag and Blair up at cabin through the first of September. Got it." I couldn't believe how easy this was working out. It's like in a friggen movie.
I finally scarfed down the last of my french toast, and then the three of us dashed up to my room to turn me into a boy.
"Okay..." Maggie said slowly, seating me on the edge of my bed. Devon was pulling bag after bag of crap he had managed to sneak up to my room this morning, out of my closet. "First off, and I KNOW you're going to be pis-sed about this, but... Blair...we need to take the color out of your hair." she said, cringing and putting her hands up to her face as though I were going to smack her. I groaned.
I loved my freakish, multicolored hair. It's part of what made me...me! I placed my hands up to my locks and ran my fingers through it. "C'mon..." Maggie tried to persuade me, "You can dye it back when we're finished. I'll even pay for the dye myself." I took a look at my hair in my mirror, and stroked it.
"You promise?" I asked, reluctant to give up my trademark. Maggie nodded.
"Besides...I got you something new to try for your color. How does black sound, and then we can do some really dark red streaks in it?" I pictured myself with that. It wasn't my multicolored, but it would probably still look good. "We don't even have to cut your hair, 'cause it's short enough already."
"Alright...go ahead and do it before I change my mind." Maggie grinned, and Devon grabbed two boxes of hair dye from a bag. We all ran to the bathroom. Maggie told me to wet my hair first, so I did as she instructed. When my hair was to an acceptable dampness, she had me lean over the tub and started pouring the terribly cold liquid over my head and rubbing it in. Devon was reading the directions out loud so she knew what to do. The dye had to sit for ten minutes, so we passed the time by helping Devon pick out his fake moustach. (He had insisted on picking several.) After forcing ourselves not to choose the Hitler looking one, we picked a sort of Tom Selleck ish one.
Then Maggie scrubbed the black shit out of my hair, and the water looked like something out of a horror movie. Then she did the dark red streaks, which turned the water a wine color. And before I knew it, I had completely new hair. I gazed in astonishment at it for several minutes before Devon pulled me away from the mirror, and scrubbed my face down.
"Just to remove any excess makeup." he informed me, scrubbing particularily hard on my eyes.
"Hey...you wear guyliner." I pointed out, swatting his hand away. He just grinned.
"It'll make your eyes look too girly." After that, I didn't protest anymore. Particularily because he made a good point. Then he started rubbing gell on my eyebrows, and rubbing in all directions. "Your eyebrows are too girly. This'll make 'um look more manly." I rolled my eyes.
When my face was makeup free and my eyebrows were, as they put it, 'more manly', Devon left the bathroom so that Maggie and I could tape my boobs down with a roll of bandage. I pulled one of Devon's old Iron Maiden t-shirts on over my head and the smallest pair of guys jeans we could possibly find from the stores we had been to. I did a twirl in front of the mirror. "How do I look?" I asked, twirling again.
"Awesome. You definetly look like a dude, just a little bit feminine is all. But there can only be one true test of how good you look. Let the gay guy tell you what he thinks." And she wrenched open the door. Devon was leaning against the wall, flipping through a magazine. He glanced up and his eyes bugged.
"Wow...if you were actually a guy, I'd probably check you out." was all he said. I shook my head. "Nice job, Mag." She grinned with self-satisfaction.
"Thanks. You were pretty good, yourself. Now...it's time for dear mummy and daddy to get ready." She said, adopting a British accent halfway through the sentence. Oh Maggie...poor, crazy Maggie... What have you been smoking? Besides ciggarrets, that is.
About half an hour later, we had completed their disguises. Devon was clad a button-up shirt and some sort of casual, dressy pants he had found burried in his closet somewhere. We pasted on his Tom Selleck moustache, and pretty much laughed our asses off for approximately ten minutes. We gave him some creepy sideburns to go with his creepy moustach, and then we gelled his hair into a state of perfection Elvis would have been proud of.
Maggie's was hilarious. We put all her crazy red hair up in a wig cap and put this beautiful curly blonde wig we had found at the disguise shop downtown. Then I powdered her face and gave her more sophisticated make-up. Red lipstick and all. But the best part was defintely the pregnant belly we had jokingly picked out at the disguise shop as well. With a black sundress, and peep toe heels, I didn't even recognize her. That and the fact that she looked about five months pregnant. She turned excitedly to us after looking in the mirror.
"Okay...I'm pregnant, you're a boy, and Devon looks like a rapist. Who's ready to go?" We laughed and I hollered to my mom, who was in the shower, that we were gonna head out and didn't know when we'd be back. She didn't seem to care much and told us to have fun and good luck, so we bolted to the door, trying to avoid Chris.
We managed to make it out alive, and Devon was shifting stuff around in his seat so he could fit us in his car. We didn't want our wigs or something flying off in the wind if we sat in the bed of the truck. Hopefully, they wouldn't do that, but just in case...
"Hey..." Maggie whispered to me. "How do I look? Is the pregnant belly on right, or is it crooked? I can't tell." She was looking down at it, and tilting from side to side, trying to see how it looked. I stared at it for a minute.
"Umm...hold on...I think it's a little farther to the right than it should be." I started punching the stomach so that it would shift to where it was supposed to be. "Stupid baby!" I said loudly, punching it with gusto. I heard a gasp and looked up. The elderly couple was sitting on their porch again. And this time, instead of watching Maggie slap my ass, they get to see me punch a baby. Nice...nice... "Oh...we're just...It, um--" I stuttered, laughing nervously. "Ummm, let's go before I get arrested for abuse."
I pulled Maggie to the car, shoved her in there, and then climbed in myself. Well...looks like I'm off to go apply for an all boys academy.....
OH MY GOD! I'm going to apply to an all boy's academy!
Thirty-two. This is the exact number of minutes it takes to drive from my house to St. James Academy for Boys. Yes, I counted. I do that when I'm nervous. I make sure everything's exact. When I stressed a bit about finals, I cleaned my room. When I freaked out because I thought Maggie was going to move to Nebraska in fifth grade, I organized a book shelf. I guess I never clean normally, so when something freaky happens, I have to do something that stimulates the unused cleaning part of my brain or something psycho like that.
Devon slid his beat up truck into an open parking space nearest the door as he could get. It had started to sprinkle rain while we were driving, and I guess it was vital that I didn't lose my man eyebrows, or something, 'cause Maggie made me shield my face with the application we had brought with us. There was also a collection of Mason's report cards (mostly all straight A's) that Devon had obtained through his cousin. We all hopped out. I was shaking a little bit. What if I screwed up? What if my wig fell off? I started to straighten the pile of papers I was holding.
Maggie knew of my tendancy to organize when I was stressed, so she tried to comfort me in the best way she could. Maggie was not a good comforter. "Just relax, Blair. You'll do fine. Just let me do all the talking." We were doomed.
"Okay, Maggie, I think you're making her a little nervous. Let's just review. Okay, what's your name?" Devon asked, trying to keep my mind busy.
"Mason Xavier Foster. And your guys's names are Taylor and Jarod. My birthday is April 22nd. Trust me, I reviewed while you guys were getting dressed." I took a deep breath. "Okay...let's get this over with." They both nodded and led the way to the main entrance. A beautiful set of oak double doors with intricate engravings carved through it. Two silver knockers were posistioned and lonely looking. Probably hadn't been used for awhile. Devon didn't use them either. He walked in ahead of us, letting the door slide slowly back.
"Hey!" Maggie playfully snapped, "Hold the door for the pregnant woman, you ignoramus!" She wobbled into the entrance hall and stared, wide-eyed, like me. Cherry wood floors surrounded us, and three, dark grey, arch pillars stretched up to the ceiling only about twelve feet away from us. Beyond that, we could see what I guess was the grand staircase that led to the second floor. It was a HUGE staircase, man! There was a chandelier dangling above us, and a neat rug on the floor. Potted plants and chairs stood solemnly by the walls, and wall lanterns glowed dimly in their places.
To our right, there was a set of smaller double doors labeled Headmaster's Office on a gold door plate. I gestured towards it. Maggie took a gigantic breath. "Okay...Let's hear your man voice, Blair." she whispered, looking anxiously at the door. I groaned. We had been practicing my manly man voice on the whole ride up.
"Fuc-k you." I said in my most boy-like voice. Maggie grinned.
"Perfect!" she exclaimed. "Alright...let's do this. Come on Jarod, we've got to hurry or we'll be terribly late for Mason's appointment." she said, picking up her womanly voice, which had improved since the phone call here. Behind the door was a cluttered desk with a perky blond secretary sitting behind it. She wore a light pink blouse and a grey pencil skirt with stilletos.
"Bonjour. I will be right with you." she said in a heavy french accent. Then name plate on her desk read Clarette. She pressed a button on what looked like a telephone, and waited for something to happen. Suddenly another voice clicked on.
"Ugh! Y-Yes, Clarette, what do you need?" a voice stuttered on the other end. He sounded busy, whoever he was. The secretary giggled.
"You're twelve o' clock is here." It was a wonder anybody could understand her. She sounded like a garbage disposal.
"Y-Yes, well...I'll be right out. I'm just, ah...finishing up in here." Him with that strained voice again.
"Please...take a seat. The headmaster will be right out." Clarette gestured to an array of waiting room chairs up against the wall. We all plopped down and settled in. A few minutes later, the door cracked open, and wildly grinning woman slipped out. She was blushing and fixing the last button on her blouse. Her hair was in slight dissaray. Looks like Mr. Headmaster's been hard at work with his number 2 pencil, if you know what I mean. About two seconds later, a creepy man with piercing grey eyes and quiff hair peeked out at us.
"Sorry about the wait. Me and Jenaveve were just going over some, er...financial issues. But, please, do come in." We entered his office and saw that everything seemed neat and tidy, except for a chair that lay forgottenly tipped over in a corner. The scene of the crime. "Welcome, Mrs. Foster, Mr. Foster." He shook Maggie and Devon's hands politely and took a seat, waiting for us to do the same.
"Thanks for seeing us on such short notice, sir." Devon said, playing up his man vocals. The headmaster nodded.
"Yes, please...call me Kirk." I tried not to gag. I hated that name, though! Maggie snorted in laughter, but managed to morph it into a cough. "Bless you." Kirk said. She just nodded and tried not to laugh again. "Anyways, if you don't mind, I'd just like to look over your son's application, and various things. What was his name?" After being informed that my name was Mason, he began to scan the application, making various noises of approval. "Well...everything seems to be in order here. Did you have any questions?"
"Oh no, I think we understood everything." Maggie said, in a sort of undetectably false, cheerful voice. Headmaster Kirk grinned. Ew...he had a gap. I don't have a problem with gaps, but the man gave me the creeps!
"Okay...as you know, the year begins at St. James in just two days. The board requires us to start earlier than other schools because the last week of our school year is a retreat. Some of our students that live farther away, have actually already arrived." He smiled cheesily. "Your son seems very bright, Mr. and Mrs. Foster. Almost all straight A's. He certainly seems like he'd be a wonderful addition to our school." I forced a smile that I'm sure came out as more of a grimace.
"Yes, he's very intelligent." Devon boomed. "We want him to excel, so we think this school would be a wonderful choice for him, don't you think so, Mason?" I nodded.
"Huh, quite the quiet one? Don't worry, everyone here is very nice. I'm sure he'll be able to develope socially here as well as academically." I hated it how he talked about me like I wasn't even there. What...an a-hole.
The rest of our time was spent with him telling us how wonderful his school was, and Maggie trying not to laugh at his sissy name. Add about ten extra minutes of Devon stroking his moustach and almost ripping it off, then we were finished. "Thankyou for stopping in." Headmaster Kirk said, ushering us out of his office. "We look forward to seeing you here on opening day. Thanks again, have a good afternoon." Clarette traded goodbyes with us too, most of hers in garbled French. I was laughing quietly with Maggie as I reached for the door knob, her and Devon trailing slightly behind me.
Twist! The door slid open before I had even touched it. A pair of hazle eyes under a fringe of black hair looked down at me. Those chilling eyes sparkled against milky white skin. My mouth dropped open. I was in complete awe. "Sorry..." the mystery boy muttered, backing up so we could get through. Maggie pushed me out into the hallway, and the boy slipped inside the office.
"Euh, Gerard. The headmaster will be with you in a moment." I heard Clarette say before the door slid closed. I still had my mouth hanging open like I was special Ed, or something.
"What are you gawking at?" Maggie pushed me playfully as I shuffled to the door we came in through, glancing back over my shoulder. I was hoping to see that boy again. Something strange had fluttered up inside me when he'd looked down at me. Something new, and adventurous, and dangerous, and all sorts of words that end in -rous. I know that sounds like cheesy romance novel material, but it's the only words I know how to describe that with.
"Hey...that guy was hot." Devon defended me. "I was gawking too." Maggie punched his arm.
"You dirty, flithy man. How could you say such things in front of your wife?! I'm having our baby, you pig, you scum!" she shrieked, jokingly. I was hardly paying attention. My mind was twelve feet away. In that office door, with the mystery boy and his sparkling hazel eyes.
A/N: Ah...our first introduction to the MyChem boys. Even though it was only one of them. This is sort of a filler chapter, the next one's will be very interesting, I promise you. Pushing myself to regular updates. Expect weekly ones on this, unless something goes wrong. So...that means, my next chapter should be up by next Saturday. Have a nice day, and come again. Oh and reviewing would be nice....Just maybe... HINT HINT. ;D
Song of the Week (According to Moi) : Telephone by Lady Gaga.
Last Updates Week Song : Lisztomania by Phoenix