Chapter 2: by potatoes-are-not-for-sex

I wake to up to the smell of Bryan burning the toast again and the taste of Carrie's lips. It's a slow drudgery, my dreams slipping away between the fingers of my rousing mind, silken and insubstantial, they glide on by despite my best efforts. Still slightly incoherent and sleepily melded into my sheets, I savour the indulgence of her piquancy, so real and overwhelming despite the empty pillow beside him. She tastes warm and brilliantly noxious, and I clutch haplessly at the slowly fading memory, silently counting down the seconds before the imminent wail of our smoke detector would drag away any last vestiges of slumber.

I don't have to wait long.

I've only just begun to daydream- it's Carrie, of course, that damn girl won't leave me alone even in my own thoughts. There's a glorious, smug smirk painted across her face, her strong legs are straddling my waist, her luscious hair cascading down in a blonde veil, her full lips relentlessly descending onto mine- then the shrill cry fills my ears and slogs me from my pillow to the kitchen, where Bryan is unsuccessfully fanning the alarm with the morning paper. Getting up onto the bench, I reach out with protesting muscles, straining until I manage to flick off the alarm, before clambering off and fixing my brother with an unabashedly odious glare.

"You can't cook toast for shit." One piece of the burnt bread is already hanging out of his mouth and he shrugs off my words with nonchalance only a teenager could manage.

"At least I don't look like shit." I don't bother with a reply because he probably makes a good point. I'm yet to greet my reflection, but all bets are a mirror would reveal that my three hours of restless sleep have left their toll in even more dark circles beneath my eyes. You'd think my parents would be more worried, but I assume they've put it down to

The score settled for now, we both guzzle down breakfast in verbal silence, our fraternal feud hardly worth the energy I had at this time in the morning. Before long, I'm dressed and trudging to school, backpack bouncing off the back of my thighs. There's an extra spring in my step, pulling me towards the rusted gates of school, even if it's only been a few hours- I'm burning up to see Carrie once more.

She's there before I am, as always, perfectly and poised, lips pursed with disdain as I enter the classroom. The snarky insults are only a moment behind.

"It must have been a sad day for your parents when they realized you weren't going to grow out of it."

The bait is irresistible.

"Grown out of what? Being this gorgeous?" I mimic flicking hair over my shoulder, a pointed jab at Carrie's infatuation with her golden locks. If she gets the references, the only sign of it is her eyebrows itching slightly higher up her perfect brow.

"Well, maybe the doctors had hoped for something better, but apparently your face is stuck looking like an arse forever." A few of the other kids chuckle at this, but I have a reputation riding on this and I'm not about to surrender to a quip like that.

"Is that the best you can come up with? Frankly, lets just consider ourselves lucky that you're not the one with an arse for a face, because given the choice- at least mine would get through doorways." Carrie hitches her skirt a little, her eyes narrowing. A slight tilt of her head is all it takes for my memories to take hold again, grinding on her innocent floral bedspread, my hands clasped firmly around that frankly gorgeous-

"At least I'm not some rake looking like a particularly pathetic sliver of nothing that's slithered up from the sewers and would just about bite your arm off for a decent meal. Didn't anyone tell you that humans are supposed to actually have muscles? Or did they just get lost somewhere within that awful mound that you actually have the insolence to call hair!" One hand automatically rising to flatten down the aforementioned tresses, I'm just about to retort when I hear a loud cough from behind me.

Shit.

I spin on the spot to face our form teacher, Miss Langham, who's threatened both Carrie and I more than once about our, what she called, 'un-sportsman like' behavior. If I were to warn sometime about Miss Langham in two sentences, the first would be that it's always easy to spot her coming across the yard to yell at you, the bright orange hair really stands out amongst a crowd. Secondly, Miss Langham is really not a morning person. (800)

"If the entire class is not sitting down and quiet by the time I'm at my desk, it's detention for all of you until April." The threat is deadly real and almost enough to shut us up- for now we all scurry to our seats, Carrie beside in the second row, her nails already scratching into her desk, leaving malicious messages for me to find later no doubt. I head to the back row, nodding a greeting to Charlie, before tossing myself into the chair and swinging my feet up to rest on the desk.

Miss Langham drops her bag onto the desk noisily and glares at us all, just waiting for an excuse to follow through on her threat of detention. Tipping my feet off the desk, I slump my chin forward to rest on the splintered wooden surface and stare ahead glumly. Another whole day of school before tonight, can I really wait that long? It's just classes and school work and stupid teachers. Shifting my gaze slightly, I watch the back of Carrie's head tilt sideways as she listens to whatever Miss Langham is rattling on about.

There's something exquisite about her, despite the ugly descriptions I constantly throw her way. I know she'd obviously never think the same of me, she's stated that quite clearly, but there's a silent surge of satisfaction at the thought of me being the one who's bedroom she's going to be sneaking into tonight, despite many others who'd do give an arm and a leg to take my place. Sure, she's a bitch, but there's no denying that she's a stunning one.

At some point, Miss Langham started doing the roll, because I'm startled out of my thoughts by the call of- "Alex Day?"

"Here!" I reply, and in the silent moment before she calls the next name, Carrie mock whispers, "And horny as hell!"

Snapping her folder shut, her face reddening to match the shocking shade of her hair, Miss Langham tilts her head forward, peering over the top of her glasses directly at me.

"I do beg your pardon Mr Day, could you repeat that for us all to hear?" As the class turns around, faces slightly brighter at the initiation of some humiliation to start off their day, I catch Carrie's eyes, glinting with maddening purpose. The crafty minx.

Tonight definitely can't come soon enough.

Yay two chapter! I hope you liked it, please let me know what you liked, what you didn't and hopefully see you soon :D

xxx panfs

p.s. how epic was that first chapter? seriously.