October 11th 2013
Chase's Pov
I couldn't explain my moods, they were just happening that way. It was almost like I couldn't help it. Sometimes I was holding back to throw myself to the floor. Other times I was close to unleashing Spike on the person closest to me.
Were men supposed to experience this?
I didn't think so.
I thought about this as Rachel stood at the front of the table, holding the girls' planner for their vlog as she flipped through some of the pages and several sticky notes. Christine had dragged me along so we could have some time together, but the girls had been so entranced by Rachel speaking she forgot all about the plans. Not that I minded.
Bree was…off, maybe? I didn't get it, but she was nodding off a lot during the entire lunch period. I had a strong hunch that she'd been doing so as well in all her classes too, but had been too distracted to ask her. She leaned against her fist, blinking furiously to keep her eyes open while Rachel discussed their schedule, or whatever they call it. (I seriously wasn't listening.)
"Wake up," I whispered, discreetly kicking her leg under the table. Her head shot up; glaring at me as she rubbed the spot I kicked.
"What was that for?" she hissed tiredly.
I leaned closer, whispering, "Look, I'm pretty sure Rachel's going to ask you something, so you should be thanking me for saving your butt."
Bree continued to shoot me a look, but she knew I was right—like always.
Christine looked pretty busy too. She had a pocket sized notebook open and was writing down names like MacBarbie07 and Stilababe09. Did I miss something?
"What is that?" I asked.
She snorted, a piece of loose hair flying up into the air as she did so. "Have you paid attention to what she says at all?"
I gestured across the table to where Adam and Leo leaned against their arms, obviously asleep. "Need I say more?"
Christine giggled and shook her head. "I'm making a list of YouTube accounts to view later today for more ideas for videos. We're thinking of doing a few costume ones since it's October…are you listening?"
"Sorry." I gave my head a quick shake. "You lost me at videos."
My girlfriend muttered something that sounded distinctly like "typical male," but continued on with her list. I watched her with mild interest and shook my juice before twisting the cap off.
The rest of lunch went something along the lines of that, with Rachel screaming at most of the girls (Bree, mostly) for not paying enough attention.
Wouldn't she make a great boss someday?
Either way, Bree didn't seem to be too concerned. Instead of straightening up under Rachel's fierce gaze like she might've if awake, she sank deeper into her crossed arms and closed her eyes, getting comfortable.
That is, until the bell rang for the end of lunch.
On the walk home, I was only half paying attention to what Christine said, no matter how rude that sounded.
Bree was accompanying us like usual, instead taking up Janelle's offer of getting a ride home with her, Leo, and everyone else.
As my girlfriend talked on, my mind wandered off to the thought of the possibility Bree had brought up the first week of school. But that was ridiculous, Davenport doing such things a month into the new school year. It just couldn't happen, right?
But it would explain the sudden drowsiness in Bree's attitude, and why he seemed especially focused on keeping her chip up to date…
…I was just being paranoid, right?
Of course I was.
Whatever.
I tried to push these thoughts away as Christine gave a particularly hard tug on my arm for my attention. "You're not a very good listener," she commented lightly.
"Sorry, lost in thought I guess."
My girlfriend shrugged. "Either way, I think I might be busy this summer."
What? "How can you already be planning this summer? That tired of school already?" I joked.
"Like you would know what it's like to be tired of school," she teased. "I am dating a geek you know."
"We prefer the term nerds."
She laughed, knocking my shoulder with hers and adjusting her backpack as she said, "But I'm serious. I've been thinking—"
That's never good.
I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud until Christine hit my shoulder again and whined, "Chase."
"Okay, okay." I held my hands up in mock surrender. "If you want me to ask then I will—Christine, my dear, dear, girlfriend"—she rolled her eyes at how dramatic I drag it out to be—"Why are you going to be busy this summer?"
Then she said it: "I think I'm going to an art school."
Silence. Dead silence was the only thing filling the space between us. I was aware of Christine, looking at me as she rocked on her heels, expecting an answer. I completely stopped in my tracks.
How could she be thinking about something like a talent—art school, whatever the hell they were called—when three weeks ago (not even a month) she was telling me how much she dreaded the play.
What had changed?
When I decided to voice my thoughts to her, she shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "I don't know. The play itself isn't something that I find…captivating…" Really? That was the word she was going to use? "But acting itself strikes me as fun."
Fun?
"Don't you think this could be a, you know, phase?" I tried to tread this carefully, knowing if I said the wrong thing, she could go off like I ticking bomb. "I mean, just this summer you were all for Bree and you starting a pet business when you get into college; how did you jump to acting?"
Christine, while not as mad as I was hoping for her not to be, looked a little crestfallen I wasn't completely on board with her sudden career change. Did I mention I was never one for change? No matter how bionic I was and the environment I grew up in?
"Well, Jillard does hand out early acceptance letters."
Wait, was she implying exactly what I thought she was? "Did you already send out an application? Already?"
She rolled her eyes, waving away my assumption with her hand. "Don't be ridiculous," she laughed. "I still have to talk to my Dad and Rem and, dude; it is only October you know."
"But—"
Christine laughed again, resting her index finger softly against my lips. She leaned closer, our noses nearly touching. Her breath puffed out against my cheek. "You know what I like about you best?" she whispered with a playful glint in her eyes. I narrowed mine at her as she continued speaking. "That you can turn into Spike; maybe he wouldn't act this way."
I pulled away, managing to let out a strained, puzzled, "What?" as Christine stepped back, laughing as she bent over, and hands on her knees I was right to find it offensive that she found my confusion so hilarious, right?
"I'm—sorry," she managed to spit out between breaths of uncontainable laughter. "But you have to admit it's true. The way he's always so riled up and on guard; it's kind of sexy."
"What?" I stuttered, appalled and angry. "This is just like Superman! What makes you think I'm going to put with—"
She silenced me. Christine stood on the tip of her Vans. (She really didn't have to.) Her hands pressed down on my shoulders, smashing out mouths harder together, teeth bumping and tongues wetting lips. Like a reflex, my hands grip her hips hard enough to dig my fingers into her skin as I pulled her closer.
It took minutes before our lungs need inflation and we pulled away. Christine looked up at me, flat on her feet again, with a distant smirk on her lips and gleam in her eye.
"Tell Spike that kiss was for him." She winked, skipping off to her porch; just then I noticed we were standing in front of her house.
What the hell did that girl do to me?
Once I'm home, the scent of meat and cheese hit my nostrils like a missile. Tasha was cooking away in the kitchen, Bree sitting at the counter with her head in her arms. Seeing an opportunity, I snuck over and leaned over, my hand poking her shoulder as I whispered, "Your hair is on fire."
"What?!" Bree shrieked in alarm, nearly hitting herself on a used pan she flung up from her chair, hands wildly going through her hair, looking for the flames that weren't there. Once she realized that I was nearly choking on my ribs from laughing and that there wasn't any fire, she screamed and pushed me. Even when she's tired, she still had an impeccable force in her.
"Chase!"
"Yeah, Chase that isn't funny," Tasha scolded, looking up from her pot. "If you really wanted a reaction out of her, you should've said a spider on fire."
Bree gave pointed looks at both of us, glaring as she stomped up to her room, but more slowly than she normally would have.
"I might just be being paranoid, but is something going on with her?" I asked suspicious. Weren't women supposed to tell other women everything? This seemed like one of those cases.
Tasha continued to stir whatever in the pot. "She's under a lot of stress right now, poor girl," she sympathized. "Donald has her working two hours more of training than normal—God knows why—and managing nearly that entire play is getting at her nerves."
"Did she tell you of this?" It was a bit hard to believe Bree admitting as much as that, even if she was admitting it to Tasha.
Tasha paused for a couple seconds. "Call it womanly intuition," she decided. "Girls just pick up faster on things about other girls."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
October 12th 2013
No One's Pov
It's after school, and Christine walked away from her friends, her still stretched into a smile from laughing. Trying to shift her books from her arms into her bags, her Van clad feet went tripping across the ground, sending her and the person in front of her crashing to the floor in a heap.
"Sorry," Christine muttered, distracted as she scuttled across the floor to gather her things before they were kicked too far out of reach. She didn't have time to obsess over a fall; she needed to home to her father to make sure he was still okay—it felt weird to leave him alone for so long when he wasn't right. Rem knew something Christine detected, but she wouldn't tell the girl what.
(And, to be honest, when was it when Rem didn't know something? Never.)
"S'kay," the voice from next to her said back, "I was looking for you."
That grabbed her attention.
Christine looked up into the greyish pools hopefully looking at her while calloused hands held out her textbooks to her. Balancing her notebooks, she warily reached out and took her things back from him.
"Not to be rude, but what are you doing here?" she asked bluntly.
"Well, hello to you too," Hunter huffed; particularly offended she didn't give him a proper greeting.
The brunette really didn't have time for his game, whatever it was. "Fine, hello—now what are you doing here?"
"I need to talk to you about something," Hunter announced nonchalantly.
Christine put her wrist under her nose to check to her Jack Skellington watch. "And you couldn't have waited until ten minutes later when I would've been home?" she asked, lowering her arm to her side again with a look.
"This is really important," Hunter promised, trying to plead with her.
Christine sighed, staring into the distance, eyes going up to look at the darkening sky. "Hurry up; we have five minutes until it starts to pour and Rachel will be livid if I show up looking like a drowned rat to shoot to vlog."
Hunter smiled in relief, reaching out to grab her arm and pull her aside. Once they were in the shadow of the school, out of sight and broad daylight, her still dropped his voice and looked to side to side warily. "I think we should tell."
Her eyes narrowed, twisting her arm out of his grip and crossing her arms over her chest. Even when he towered six inches above her head, she managed to scare the living hell out of him.
"Tell who what?"
Hunter scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Maybe your dad and Chase should know about that few years ago?" he tried again. "Remember when we dated…?"
"Of course I remember!" Christine hissed, letting her voice drop as well. "I'm not an idiot; and who do you think you are to suggest telling either of them such a thing? My father's already under enough distress from seeing my mother for the first time in person for years—we, you, don't need to say anything to make it worse. Are we clear?" Christine stood tall, hands on hips as she waited for an answer.
Hunter's shoulders sunk, but he nodded and mocked, "Yes, ma'am."
They said their stiff good-byes and Christine stood watching as her old friend started to the parking lot, toward his car. But as he did so, she couldn't help but notice another, different, figure's shadow slip into his, but when she blinked several times and focused again, it was gone.
There wasn't a top A/N like usual because there isn't much to say. I'm sorry the update took longer than planned, and that there still isn't another cover, but one is on its way.
And if any of you guys are fans of iCarly, please read my new story, PROM, on that archive.
Guess that is it. Thanks for reading lovelies and please drop a review to comment on what you liked about this chapter.
Before I forget: MacBarbie07 and Stilababe09 are fashion/beauty/vlog accounts on YouTube and both of them are truly amazing. I just now started watching their videos and their advice helps loads! Plus they are both super funny and I highly encourage you to check them out, kay?