A/N: Hello readers (even though there's only one follower :3)! I present to you... CHAPTER 2! Time to find out what happens after Zach kisses Brittany. Whatever you're expecting, I bet you're wrong
I ran out the back door, tears flowing down my face. I caught sight of my reflection in the glass, my appearance profoundly crestfallen. On the way there, I had to pass Zach. I was quite happy to see Brooke's red fingerprints still blazing a fire on his face. Once outside, I sat underneath my big oak tree, Roger, we called him, and I just let it all out. I began to cry uncontrollably, hugging my knees to my chest.
I was an idiot. A stupid ugly girl. I was naive enough to think that Zach loved me. I was naive enough to think he was even my friend all this time. Well he clearly wasn't. He clearly didn't give a damn about me, considering that he didn't even feel bad about toying with my heart and then kissing another girl ten minutes later. Guys just didn't like me. I wasn't pretty. I wasn't worth anything in his eyes. And the sad thing was, I fell right into his trap. I was starting to fall for him. Maybe even starting to love him. But, he didn't love me. I was almost convinced that no one ever would.
I sat there for about ten minutes, listening to the sounds of nature, hoping it would calm the emotional deluge pouring out of me. A wolf howled somewhere in the distance, probably over on Eagle's Crest Hill. Maybe he was all alone too.
When my friends came out, I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to go inside. No, I didn't want hot chocolate. No, I didn't need a blanket. I was fine, I told them. Even though I wasn't. But, they already knew that. There was no point in reiterating it.
After about two hours, the sounds of the party eventually started to die down. Cars sped off down the street. The music disappeared, leaving in its place an eerie silence. It seemed as though all human civilization had inexplicably been swept away, adding to my feeling of complete solitude. I was still crouching in the same spot underneath the oak tree. After the last light went out, Holly and Rachel came to visit me.
"I know you don't wanna talk, so just listen. He's a douchebag. And a jerk. And he certainly doesn't deserve you," Rachel snapped
"So don't let him do this to you. Don't let him hurt you like this, and don't waste time thinking about him. Because as much as you don't want to believe it, he isn't thinking about you. And I'm really sorry about that. I really am." Holly added.
They each bent down to give me a hug, and then they walked away without another word. I eventually made my way up the steps and into the living room. And much to my chagrin, Zach was still there. He sure had some nerve.
"Nat, listen. I-
"DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME 'NAT'!" HOW DARE YOU ACT LIKE EVERYTHING'S OKAY BETWEEN US! LIKE WE'RE STILL BEST BUDDIES! SHUT UP! ALL RIGHT? JUST SHUT UP! DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT ANYONE OTHER THAN YOURSELF? NO!YOU DON'T! YOU KNOW WHAT? GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! GET OUT OF MY LIFE! AND JUST LEAVE! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN! EVER! OK?
I must've been on the verge of a nervous breakdown because I began to shake as a bout of crying racked through me.
"OUT! JUST GET OUT! NOW!" I yelled.
And so he turned away and left without another word.
I woke up the next morning as the first rays of sunlight leaked through the window pane. I had that horrible feeling in my throat. The one you get when you've been crying for an extremely long time. But, that was the least of my worries.
My house was a mess. And when I say mess, I don't mean your parents' version of a mess, which is basically a few pieces of laundry on the floor. It looked like a dump. Pizza slices on the floor. Broken glass piled in the middle of the kitchen. A shattered disco ball. Beer bottles scattered here and there. I needed serious help. There was no way on Earth that I would be able to clean the whole house before my parents got back tomorrow night.
Before I could even begin to come up with a solution to my problem, the doorbell rang. I trudged over to open it, and I saw Rachel, Holly, Brooke, and Meagan.
"Hi, Natalie. We just wanted to see how you're holding up. You okay, girl?"
I tried to say "Hi!" or something else that would convey that I was completely fine, even though I most certainly was not. But before I could get a word out, I just started crying. Luckily, They were pretty much expecting this kind of reaction.
"OKAY! HOLLY, YOU GET THE COOKIE DOUGH ICE CREAM OUT OF THE VAN, AND RACHEL, POP TITANIC IN THE DVR! OH AND CALL THOSE LAZY ASS BOYS! SOME ONE NEEDS TO CLEAN UP THIS SHIT!"
So, they spent the day watching depressing movies with me, and they even helped me clean up the humongous mess. After seven hours of grueling, nonstop work, the house actually looked semi-decent.
"Finally, it's DONE!" yelled Greg, flopping onto the ground.
"Why the HELL was all that gum stuck to the couch?" Nick yelled.
"Hey, look at it on the bright side," Peter suggested. "Somehow, last night went down in Greenridge history as one of the best parties ever."
"Ok, I'll admit, it was pretty good! You know how to throw a party, Natalie," Nick conceded. I found this funny, considering that I didn't even legitimately try to,throw a party. SOME people just decided to randomly show up at my house.
"Hey, where is Natalie?" Nick asked.
"Over there, being depressed and mopy," Greg muttered.
"AW HELL NO!" Brooke yelled. "GIRL, WHO CARES ABOUT THAT SHIT STICK? YOU CAN FIND TEN GUYS BETTER THAN HIM JUST BY GOING TO THE MALL! NOW GET OFF YOUR BEHIND AND GO AND FIND YA SELF A MAN!"
"Well, unless you can pull a man out of your ass, I think I'm out of of luck. Boys don't fall from the sky," I muttered.
"Skydivers do!" Rachel insisted. "I can totally hook you up with my cousin. He's like a skydiver. Well, kinda. Not really. I mean-
"SHUT UP!" Nick yelled.
"Just go get yourself some damn wonton soup!" Rachel yelled.
"What the hell? I'm not even Chinese! You're so racist!" Nick yelled.
"Oh, that's right. I forgot. You're Mexican." Rachel drawled.
"I'M PHILIPINO! AND F**K YOU!"' he screamed.
"Ladies, Ladies, you're both pretty," Holly smiled.
"THIS IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!" Nick yelled.
"WELL LOOKS LIKE SOMEBODY'S ON HIS MAN PERIOD!" Rachel retorted. "NEED ME TO LEND YOU SOME TAMPIES?"
"WHY WOULD YOU HAVE 'TAMPIES'," he inquired, "WHEN YOU'RE ACTUALLY A-
"OK! THAT'S IT! BOTH OF Y'ALL NEED TA SHUT THE HELL UP before I pull out BERNIE!" Brooke snapped.
"Who the hell is Bernie?" Greg asked.
"MA POCKET KNIFE!" Brooke yelled.
As Peter tried to pry "Bernie" from Brooke's hands, I still didn't have a solution to my current problem.
"Well, ok then. Thank you all for your astounding advice and ever present help and support, but like I said, a perfect man isn't just going to appear on my front steps," I drawled sarcastically.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Brooke got up to answer it and came back with a devious smile on her face. "It's for you, Natalie."
I got up, very confused and extremely curious. When I got to the front door, I was shellshocked.
There was Brandon. 6 feet and three inches of sexy, godly man meat. "Hello, love," he started in his British accent.
I started to blush profusely, and I had what seemed like an almost primal, natural instinct to start fixing my hair. My palms were sweating, I was pretty sure my mouth still smelled like vomit, and I was suddenly conscious of the fact that I was wearing footy pajamas. For the past three years of my life, I had been absolutely infatuated with him. I had pictured kissing him about a million times, and I had very carefully planned out what I would say to him if he was to ever show up at my house. But after all that work, guess what I said.
"I LIKE YOUR FACE!" I blurted out.
As I floundered around like a fish out of water, Brooke snickered from where she was hiding behind the wall. "I'm a mad genius..." she whispered to herself. Next to her, Peter was currently facepalming. "Yeah.. you might be a mad genius, but she can't even stammer out a coherent sentence when he's around. In other words, we're screwed."
"Look, WHO WEARS THE PANTS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP? THAT'S RIGHT! ME! LET ME HANDLE IT! I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!" she yelled, alerting Brandon and I of her position.
"Excuse me," I said to Brandon, smiling. I then quickly turned on my heel and marched over to Brooke. I then proceeded to smack her on the head.
"Were you eavesdropping on us?!" Natalie whisper-yelled. "What the fudge?"
"We were not eavesdropping," Peter replied. "We were...washing our hair?" he provided, using the nearby bathroom as inspiration.
Brooke then facepalmed, and I turned to Peter with a look that clearly said "Really? Do you expect me to believe that?".Thus, Brooke proceeded to stare Peter down with an extremely annoyed look on her face and said "YOU'RE AN IDIOT! AND YOU REALLY NEED TO WORK ON YOUR EXCUSES!"
"But that's what you love about me!" Jacob responded, smiling coyly and causing Brooke to facepalm yet again.
"Look, I don't even care anymore," I replied, turning around and walking back to Brandon.
"You imbecile!" Carolyn whisper-yelled at Peter. "You almost blew the whole damn thing! If there's any chance of this working, you need to KEEP YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH SHUT!" She then turned around and stormed into the kitchen.
"What did I do to deserve this?" Peter sighed. "I'm dating a mad woman..."
As Brooke returned to the kitchen, she was suddenly bombarded with a boatload of questions and comments:
"What's going on?"
"Who was that?"
"Was it Zach? IMMA KILL THAT BITCH!"
"No it couldn't be!"
"Well maybe it was!"
"Maybe it's Miles!"
"No way! That douche is probably busy knocking up Brittany!"
"ALL OF Y'ALL NEED TA SHUT YA TRAPS NOW!" Brooke interrupted. The room fell so silent that you could hear a pin drop. "Good. Now, that you're quiet, listen up. Do NOT ask me any more questions. Do NOT get involved. And do NOT nose around in my business. The more people that are aware of what I'm doing, the higher a risk I run of being figured out. I have everything perfectly planned out down to the very second, and I've accounted for everything that could possibly go wrong."
"What the hell are you talking about?" inquired Holly.
"She's officially gone crazy," Nick replied sardonically as he rolled his eyes.
"Ok. You can call me crazy," she smiled slyly. "But it doesn't matter. All the pieces are falling into place.
Meanwhile, I had finally found my tongue, and I was actually having a decent conversation with Brandon. Turns out we had a lot in common. We were both straight-A students, and we both loved science class. He was a musician just like me, and the UK was his favorite country too. He was even more spectacular than I had ever dreamed of. A guitarist who spent an entire month every summer building water purification systems for the poor, starving children in Africa? He was perfect. Practically a God.
I suddenly had a theory as to why a majority of the Earth's males were ugly jerks. I'd like to think that when God made humankind, he had a big bottle of sexiness and perfection. He probably tried to spread it all out evenly, but he tripped and spilled it all onto Brandon. Thank you to whatever blessed thing tripped God.
"So, do you wanna go catch a film with me?" he asked. I was shaken from my ruminations by this very unexpected question. I didn't even know what to say. I finally appreciated the word "Brainfreeze." But I guess my mouth took over and knew what to do, because without my brain's consent, I heard myself reply, "Yeah. That sounds great."
"Ace! I'll be back here at around seven o'clock, and I'll drop you back off at your flat when we're done? Sound good?" he asked.
"What movie do you want to see?" I inquired.
"American Hustle looks brilliant," he replied. "Plus, Jennifer Lawrence is gorgeous. Well, I mean, not as gorgeous as you," he winked. I was pretty sure my face couldn't turn any redder.
"That sounds amazing," I replied.
"Well, I'll see you then," he smiled. Damn, he had an adorable smile. Before he left, he grabbed my hand and placed a kiss upon it. I was wrong. My face actually could turn redder.
As I made my way upstairs to go shower, get dressed, and do whatever else I needed to get ready, Brooke sat in the hallway, her back slumped against the wall.
"Like I said before, it's all falling into place." she smiled wickedly.
I strolled into the bathroom and turned on the shower to warm up the water. I took out all my makeup and arranged it on the counter. After I had thoroughly scrubbed and conditioned my hair, I started deciding what I would wear.
As for what I was going to wear, I decided on something casual, since it was a movie date. I pulled out a pair of stone washed, light blue jeans and proceeded to put them on. I also grabbed a loose floral top with straps, a blue background and pink peonies. I then strolled into the bathroom to apply makeup. I usually didn't wear much, so I just applied my favorite mascara and some light pink lipgloss. I slipped on my red Chuck Taylors, and then everything was done, except for my hair.
I had EXTREMELY curly hair. So, the top of my head usually looked like wet poodle fur, but today, the odds were in my favor. My curls were perfect. I parted my hair to the side and I was ready to go. I descended the stairs, strolled into the living room, and plopped myself onto the couch.
My friends were currently watching a romantic comedy. Peter was on the couch, his arm around Brooke, and for once, she was completely subdued as she rested her head on his shoulder. Greg was occupying one of the recliners, and Rachel and Meagan were sharing the other one, since there was no more room. Nick and Holly were taking up the other half of the couch, keeping an awkward distance between themselves. I know it seems EXTREMELY cliché, but almost as they were in a movie, they reached for the popcorn at the same time, and their hands touched. They both jumped a little at the unexpected contact, and turned their heads down to look at their hands. They stared and let them linger there for several seconds, but suddenly, they simultaneously pulled apart at the speed of light.
I smiled. It was no secret that they liked each other, but they were taking things slow. Which made the whole thing much cuter.
In about 15 minutes, the doorbell rang. I looked at the clock.
That's Weird. I thought. It's only 6. He was going to come at 7.
Nevertheless, I walked towards the door and opened it.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" I screamed. It was Zach. I thought I told him to LEAVE ME ALONE.
"Please, please, listen to me," he begged.
"I want nothing to do with you," I responded. "I already told you to get out. I mean it. You are not welcome on my property. Now, get out before I call the cops." I responded.
"NO!" he yelled. "You need to listen to me!"
"Go away!" I screamed.
"WHAT'S GOING ON OUT THERE?" Brooke yelled. Several, seconds later, she appeared at the door.
"OY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE! I THOUGHT WE TOLD YOU TO F**K OFF!" she yelled. "THAT'S IT! YOU, MA FINE SIR, ARE ABOUT TO GET BERNIED."
"Bernied? What does that even-
Before he could finish, Brooke came at him with all her fury. She sprang forward with her pocketknife, causing Zach to jump back. When she continued to brandish "Bernie," he sprinted down the lawn, hoping to escape her wrath. But this wasn't enough for Brooke. She chased him off the property and continued to follow him as he dashed all over the street, hoping to lose her.
"THIS'LL TEACH YOU TO MESS WITH ME!" she yelled as she tackled him to the ground. "WHY YA HITTING YOURSELF?! WHY YA HITTING YOURSELF?!"
Brooke then slapped him across the face, kneed him in the nuts, and punched him in the jaw. At this point, he was begging for forgiveness, but Brooke still wasn't satisfied. Somehow, he found an opportunity to scramble to his feet and run away, but his house was too far. Brooke's speed and relentless pursuit of him resulted in him being tackled to the ground yet again.
While I stood there, enjoying the show, a silver Mercedes pulled into my driveway and came to a stop. Brandon came out, and when he spotted me, he smiled. He was dressed casually, like me. He was sporting dark blue jeans, a gray beanie, a red and blue plaid shirt, and black vans.
"Hello, love," he said to me. "Ready to go?" he inquired.
"Yes," I smiled.
As I made my way to the car, he opened the door for me and gestured in with his hands. I sighed. He was such a gentleman. Once we were both in the car, he rolled the windows down to let in the cool spring breeze. However, before we could leave, we heard a triumphant shout from down the street.
"THAT'S RIGHT PRETTY BOY! REMEMBER THIS NEXT TIME YOU MESS WITH BROOKE AND BERNIE!"
"What on EARTH was that?" Brandon inquired, astonished.
"Nothing!" I blurted out very quickly. "Just drive! Drive