Chapter Six
Swimming through Sick Lullabies
I stared at the phone in my palm for a good ten minutes after Sasuke had texted me. Just staring at it—of course not. Sure, my eyes were glued to the illuminated screen, ignoring the ignored Lit. notes of Neji's that I still had to copy, disregarding the ringing house phone, and damning my television to hell since it was making that annoying beeping noise that it makes whenever I turn to a channel that I don't get.
Don't pretend you don't know what I'm not talking about. Because you know good and well what Mama Saku is talking about.
Bitch.
Anyway, as I said before I distracted myself with my awesomeness, I was staring at my phone, more specifically the chain of text messages Sasuke sent me. It really seemed like he knew what he was going to ask and whatever the wording may've been, it must've been important. He had started to bring it up once before.
Knowing my emotionally deprived brain, I had to hop to the first conclusion that he was going to ask for a booty call. I immediately shot that down, mostly because it is the middle of the week—well, glancing at my clock and seeing the big flashing 12: 02, it is officially Thursday—and I don't think he's the type of guy to tap the ass of a girl he barely knows.
But then again, I could be wrong. Sasuke might've wanted to…hangout? I don't know. He doesn't seem like the type of person that would schedule a future event this late at night. Many possibilities ran in and out of my brain, and, dear Kami, all of them ranged from plain old ridiculous to plausible.
Why the hell was I even thinking so hard about this?
Actually, I could be right. He's a guy, and guys have the raging hormones of a freaking bull. He could've been exceedingly bored, doing nothing but watching free internet porn, and then figured, "Hey? Don't I have that naïve new girl Sakumo's number? Oh—wait-wait, it was Sakura. Hm. Sexy. I'll fuck her instead of my Dell."
Right?
Totally.
So I l threw my phone into some random corner that I will, without a doubt, forget about in the morning, and I will, without a doubt, spend my morning shower time looking for my cell phone, and then I WILL, without a doubt, blame it on my Mother and then force her to let me…let me take a ride from Naruto. He lives around here. And, psh, he owes his life to me, anyway. He almost ran me over.
I went to sleep feeling like I was the shit. Partially because I am. : )
L O A D I N G . . . .
When I drifted into Dreamland and actually had a dream, I was freaked the hell out. This is coming from a teenage girl who hadn't had a real dream since the age of six. Now, the term 'real dream' is most often loosely used.
Look, for example:
"That dream wasn't real; there's no way it'll ever come true."
"It was real, Mommy! You just have to believe!"
"But, Honey Bunny, little boys just don't show up at your window sill, call you Wendy, and take you to worlds where fairies fly around spreading pollen and you always stay a child."
"Father! Are you saying my dream was fake?"
"No. It just wasn't real."
Okay, so, give me a break. I watched all my old Disney movies the other day while washing the dishes. But, real is, in layman terms regarding a dream, when that fantasy can actually occur. It's possible, plausible, and in all rights of the word realistic.
Usually I just dream about chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream with a wafer cone and my ever-wanted Harley, but that doesn't mean I ever have a chance toward getting it. Well, the ice cream is accomplishable, but…before I go off on some new tangent and forget what the point was, let me tell you something.
The dream I had tonight was real and unreal at the same time!
(I know, you probably don't hear the drama music that I hear right now, but I guarantee you that lightening is cracking outside my window, and vampires are seeping out of my closet.)
L O A D I N G . . . .
I was sitting alone and looking like I had just finished crying on the top step of the school's stairs, of which I had fallen from the first day of school. A pretty purple notebook rested on my lap, a blank page open, though it wasn't really blank, tears and water stains adorning the page.
The breeze was gentle, full green leaves shaking on the trees, but the sun was still relentless, beaming down without the mercy that would've burned my ivory skin if it weren't for how cold I was feeling on the inside.
I had to guess why I was crying. Maybe I failed a test? Perhaps something was going on at home? Then again, some of the guys at Konoha Elite are as sexy as sexy can get, and maybe one of them had-GASP-broken up with me.
No matter how much I wanted it to be opposite, the last of the three options felt most accurate. It just seemed fitting. You know?
The cars in the lot were all gone, the principal had even went home with all the deans, talking about going out to get "rounds of sake to celebrate the near end of the school year" and there I was. Sitting. Crying. Looking pitiful.
The big round clock above the school entrance rang loudly, announcing the fourth hour, and I sniffed my nose with the BRIIING noise, gathering my backpack and notebook, preparing to seemingly walk home, only to stop, for some odd reason.
Sounds of kids walking by the school came, a teen on his skateboard, obviously a lowerclassmen, whizzed past an old Oak tree, and the sun slipped behind a cloud.
I stared at the Oak tree with longing eyes, my big, emerald eyes widening, and an eventual veil of water lining them. I plopped gracelessly onto the step; almost slipping down them all butt-first, as a toddler would if he or she was feeling particularly lazy or bored, but a hand grasped my shoulder, jerking my fall to a stop.
The person sat down next to me, dark uniform pants coming into my vision from the corner of my eye, but I lowered my gaze, immediately jerking my carnation head in the opposite direction upon seeing familiar worn white Air Force One's, a peace sign, heart and smiley face written in black permanent marker on the side.
I furiously wiped my face, riding it of all tears and rubbed my ear lobe all while ignoring his burning gaze on me.
"What do you want," I managed to ask through all the sniffles and stuffed nose. I'm pretty sure it sounded more like, "Go fuck your mom," but I swear I meant to ask the bastard what he wanted.
…I GIRLSCOUT PROMISE!
He sighed, and I could see him raking through his ebony locks with his fingers, closing his eyes in that I'm-tired-but-I'm-going-to-try way.
"Sakura," my name rolled off his tongue like honey, and sent shivers up and down my spine, "I didn't mean it—not like that."
I remained silent, burying my head into my arms as burning tears dared to slip through my eyes.
Silence enveloped the area, and my throat started itching, searing as if it were on fire. I wanted to talk, no, to yell at him, but I really couldn't. My hands started to get clammy, aching to just hold Sasuke's hand, where it was most comfortable. Where it felt natural.
Desperation, an emotion I thought would never in a million years cross in the Uchiha's emotional vocabulary, laced his voice when he pleaded, "Would you just look at me, Sakura?"
I felt like a child, shaking my head in refusal to just look at him, and I was crying once again now—I could feel my eyes growing red. I sniffled, a useless act just to show my reluctance, and then heaved my head in his direction.
Immediately I felt terrible. There Sasuke was, looking at least half as bad as I did. Dark circles surrounded his impeccably, mysteriously obsidian orbs, which looked all and all tired in themselves, as if he hadn't been to sleep in weeks. Pale skin looked paler, even in the bright sunlight, and his hair—Kami, his hair, seemed to lack in it's usual luster, softness, and style.
My heart stung in my chest, I wanted to cry more, and my mouth was left open, stopped cold in the tracks of some snippy remark. Just staring into his eyes—oh my holy shit crap, this better not be true! Why would I get all…romantic-y?—I was temporarily happy, and the sadness, anger, and all previous negative emotion left me.
I scooted closer to him, flinching back when he tried to wrap his arm around my shoulder, then sighed, smiling lightly, just to be civil.
He smirked a little, though it didn't reach his eyes.
"I remember when I first saw you," Sasuke started quietly, bearing a small glance at me before apprehensively reaching for my hand. I let him, to which his face lit up. My fingers immediately intertwined with his, like a heavy weight being lifted from my shoulders.
He continued as the wind blew. "You were late to school and Naruto dropped me off at the main entrance while he went to go over to the Athletic Office to pay some fees for all the basketballs he 'accidently' popped," I laughed, wet eyes glittering, "And I was walking through the parking lot like I usually would, and I would've kept on about my own business, except I-well-you were by the bike rack that nobody uses and—"
A blush played on my face. "And you saw my beautiful, gorgeous ass trying to lock up my piece of crap bike."
Sasuke laughed, tipping his head back and covering his mouth, and a ringing happiness surged through me. Almost like adrenaline, but not quite. Nevertheless, I couldn't keep but laughing with him.
When we calmed, he nodded, scratching the back of his neck, pink splashing his cheeks.
"Yeah. Yeah; I saw your...you know..., and just like every other guy in the world, I didn't want you for you at first. That's not quite as embarrassing as falling down a flight of stairs after trying to pull open a push door to prove femininity, though."
I scrunched my nose while I smiled, shoving him lightly, which, even if I pushed with all of my might wouldn't have made him budge at all.
Giggling, I replied, "Whatever, Sasuke-kun. Whatever."
L O A D I N G . . . .
Okay, so now that I've shared with you my uber confusing and quite uncharacteristic dream, can you please share with me where in the motherfucking world my cell phone is!
L O A D I N G . . . .
Breakfast with my mother was…odd to say the least.
I normally try to avoid the act of sharing daily events with family as much as possible, especially if that family member happens to be, I don't know, sharing a house with me, and really embarrassing, preppy, and obtains a freaky resemblance of a leprechaun.
If you haven't caught on, or my terrible description has left you wary of your previous assumption of my mother's appearance, I am, in fact, talking about that woman.
She was sitting across from me, daintily cutting up her little buttermilk pancakes without chocolate chips, posture straight, fiery red hair pulled back in an 'office-proper' bun, eye makeup in place. She sipped her 'fixed up' with crème and all that other crap coffee, giggling lightly to herself in giddy happiness and euphoria.
I furrowed my eyebrows, averting my gaze to the side, toward the open kitchen window while I sipped the milk from the cup in my hand with a bendy straw.
When she finished some ten minutes later, she smiled.
"How is school going, honey?"
I swallowed and licked my lips, (not really) pretending to have more interest in the nature and wildlife in the backyard. Oh, look…rabbits…making more rabbits. How enjoyable!
A sigh escaped my lips, "Fine; thanks for asking."
Her forest green eyes drooped some, a babyish pout fixing her lips. She was probably expecting a long, extraneous answer, ranging from the very moments I met each person I now know, their ages and birthdays, parents, and—
"Have you," she smiled widely, "met any cute boys?"
I ripped my eyes away from the bunny loving and sneered—unconsciously of course. Once I saw that she wasn't going to let this question go, that she wasn't some game remote with a skip option during the questionnaire section, I groaned, smiling falsely.
"Yes."
…What? Where you expecting more, too?
Didn't I already explain to you that I don't talk to my mom?
L O A D I N G . . . .
I found my phone underneath a clothes pile—seriously, I wouldn't have never guessed that it would be there—and scrolled down my Contacts list until I reached the letter 'N', clicking Naruto before I pressed the square between my shoulder and ear. I listened to the ringing while I smiled weakly back at Mother, who was just leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, trying to fend her off for a little while longer.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Naruto-baka," I greeted. "Can you do me a favor, please?"
A gust of wind grazed my back, swishing my hair to the side. I glanced around, only to see Mother Dearest right next to me, obviously trying to eavesdrop. I almost popped an eye gland trying not to roll them.
"Just because I almost ran you over doesn't mean I owe your life to you!"
I smiled, laughing. "Yeah, it kind of does—"
"NOT."
"Well I'm sorry," I said forcibly, ending his whining on the other end. "But, can you lend me a ride? Please?"
Safe to say that a few back-and-forth's later, finding out that Naruto was also letting Sasuke (joy, after last night's dream…) and his younger cousin ride with him. If I had other options, I honestly would've taken them head on. From what I've heard about Konohamaru, he's either unexplainably sweet, or explicitly evil. Either way, though, I have to get to school.
Bummer.
I sighed, "I'll see you soon, then, Naruto."
L O A D I N G . . . .
"Who's Naruto?"
"What?"
"The boy! The boy you were talking to!"
"…a friend I made at school."
"Oh. Okay."
"Yeah. I'm going to go now—"
"Is he like your boyfriend?"
I figured I didn't have to explain anything. Not even my boiling anger toward that accusation.
L O A D C O M P L E T E . . . .
a/n: I forgot to add 'LOAD COMPLETE' last chapter. Lol. Anyway, I was late today since, unfortunately, my school year is about to begin. I've tried out for swimming and made JV (YAY! go freshmen!) so I'm really busy right now.
I'll probably be busy until the end of October. :( sorry.
Anyhow…onto the story. If Sakura's mom is…over exaggerated, don't worry. There's reason. I kind of wanted to make her an over the top version of Ino for possibly later usage in the story. I have two pathways to go with Mrs. Haruno…
I can't find anything else to talk about…
(**supamegahwinkie**OMG I WONDER IF SAKURA'S DREAM WILL COME TRUE?**supamegahwinkie**)
XD.
LATERZ~~~
~Lillypop414
Winks!