-this chapter is dedicated to Faded Soulfire-

Chapter 2
What day is it? And in what month? This clock never seemed so alive. I can’t keep up, and I can’t back down, I’ve been losing so much time…

Before I can blink, it’s Sunday evening. The weekend’s mostly gone by, but aside from studying history with Haley and going out for ice cream with Sam, I haven’t really done much. It’s like I’ve completely wasted this weekend – thrown away three whole days of my life. I hate that feeling.

I curl up in my sofa, Neverwhereby Neil Gaimon in my hand. Sam lent me the book, swore by his life it’d be worth it. And it’s decent, I suppose, but I haven’t been able to get past the first page. I can’t concentrate. I want to go somewhere and do something…but I’m stuck here instead, feeling restless and uneasy. I sigh and dump the book on the coffee table, pushing myself up and out of the sofa. I hate moments like these – when time seems to stand still, and I’m stuck in the middle of it, trying to figure what the whole…point is. I frown and pop a chip in my mouth as I walk through the kitchen. Damn mood swings.

My history binder’s in my room, the notes strewn all over my bed in a haphazard heap. I settle down in the midst of it and pick up a sheet at random. I skim through it, and a couple words leap out at me at random…Stamp Act…Boston Massacre…Boston Tea Party… I groan melodramatically and fall backwards onto my pillow, pulling it out from under me and smothering it over my face. I hear footsteps by my door, but I don’t move. It’s either my parents, or Jacob, and I don’t want to talk to any of them right now.

The door swings open and hits the wall behind it with a loud ‘thunk’. “I SUMMON MY BLUE EYES WHITE DRAGON – ATTACK HIS DARK MAGICIAN AND DESTROY IT! BOOM! CRASH! BAM!”

I groan and flip over in my bed so that the pillow’s covering the back of my head. “Go away Jacob. You can play in your own room.”

He ignores me and continues to make vrooming noises as he makes his way across my room, all the while viciously pummeling his blue eyes white dragon action figure into his dark magician action figure. Don’t ask me why I got him the set for Christmas. It seemed a good idea at the time, but whatever explanation I had for it now eludes me.

Jacob makes his way to my bed and tags me in my arm. “You’re it, Kristopher.”

“My name’s not Kristopher,” I mutter, but it’s a hopeless case and I know it.

Sad fact number 1 of real life: I don’t have an amazingly popular big brother who is, coincidentally, one of the hottest guy in the school and best friends with the other hottest guy in the school who is either already madly in love with me, or in the process of falling madly in love with me through a bet, or in the process of falling madly in love with me while denying it to himself and claiming he’s only trying to ‘protect me’ as he wards away my first ten suitors (hah, ten, as if!). Instead I have a seven-year-old brother who can be, believe it or not, really annoying.

Life’s so unfair sometimes.

Jacob tags my arm again, this time harder. “Come play tag with me,” he insists.

“I said no, Jacob!” I throw the pillow off of me (I think it lands somewhere in my stack of notes) and sit up. My hair’s a mess and I’m sure I look awful, but whatever. It’s just my brother, anyway. “Go away. I need to study.”

“Aw,” he whines. “But you’re always studying.”

I feel kind of sorry for him, so I soften a bit and tussle his hair as he comes closer. “Sorry, kiddo, but I’ve got this big history test tomorrow and I really need to be ready. I’ll play with you later, okay?”

He glares and sticks out his tongue, before trudging out of my room and slamming the door behind him. Whoever said that teenage girls have mood swings has never met a seven-year-old boy. I sit up in my bed and stretch, staring down at my history notes glumly. I ought to study. Really.

The phone rings and I dash out of bed, unconscious of the fact that my history papers are flying in the air behind me. Maybe it’s Diane with a new piece of gossip. Or Sam ordering me to get on AIM. Anything at all to keep me away from history! I slide around the corner and yank the phone off of its hook.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is Kristen there?” I recognize the voice, and smile uneasily. Twirling the phone cord around my finger, I answer cautiously.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Oh, hey Kris. It’s Sylvia. I was wondering: do you want to do the bio project together?”

Despite everything, my heart jumps, and I’m flattered. She’s one of the most popular seniors – and Aiden Caulsworth’s sister – and she wants to work with me? “Sure,” I blurt out. “I’d love to.”

“Awesome,” she says, and she sounds genuinely pleased. “I’ll talk to you later then!” She hangs up, and I place the phone back on its hook slowly.

Idiot, a voice inside my head hisses at me. I sigh and lean against the wall. I know, I whisper. But I can’t help it. What if she means well this time? What if things work out this time? What if we can be best friends again? And she is popular, and it is nice that she wants to work with me, especially when I’m sure there’s dozens of other people willing to work with her. She chose me! Maybe she does care…

Or, the voice continues, maybe she realizes that you’re a complete fool, and that if she wants, she can easily have you do all the work. Doesn’t that sound a bit more like her? I bite my lip. Why do you have to be so goddamn gullible? How many times does she have to stab you in the back before you realize she’s a bitch? How many times does she have to embarrass you, toy with you, and crush you before you realize she’s not trustable? Why the fuck do you keep on trying to be friends with her?

My history with Sylvia Caulsworth is long, and complicated. We’ve been friends since 1st grade – that is, if you could call us friends. We were friends at one point. Best friends, even. And then we grew up…or rather, she did, and I didn’t. She found different friends. Cooler friends. And I almost wish I could say that she forgot me, because that would have been so much more painless. She didn’tforget me; she used me instead. When she needed me, I was there at her beck and call. And when she didn’t…well, she dropped me and sauntered off to her cooler friends, leaving me standing alone and confused, humiliated, almost at the point of tears.

I’ve confronted her before, screamed at her before, and always – always, she has an explanation. Always, she has some pretty words to throw at me, for me to lap up. She tells me she’s sorry. She tells me it’s all a misunderstanding. And I forgive her. I always forgive her…and I don’t even know why. Maybe it’s because she seems honestly sorry – devastated even – when she apologizes. Maybe it’s because she has a knack of turning things around so that I feel like I have to say sorry, when I haven’t done anything wrong. Maybe it’s because, despite everything, I want us to be friends again – the way we used to be.

She’s another possible Cinderella, Sylvia. She’s crazy energetic and witty and funny, but she’s got a dark side that most people don’t see. Her parents got divorced three years ago – an awful, bloody affair. Sylvia used to cry about it all the time. She cries about a lot of things, actually, and when I’m not feeling jealous or angry, I’m feeling sorry and scared – like I need to protect her or something. Strange, huh? She’s older than me, and she’s stronger, but I feel like I have a duty to protect her. She’s got this vibe that draws people to her…

And yes, guys fall for her like dominoes.

Sad fact number 2 of real life: Guys you like can fall for girls you don’t like. Fact number 3: Not all the girls you don’t like are going to be sluts and bitches that everyone else hates too. Sometimes, the girls you hate most are the ones others love most. Sometimes, that’s why you hate them.

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Monday morning comes sooner than I’d like, especially since I stayed up until 1 am studying for the damned history test. I lie in my bed moaning and muttering curses for a good 10 minutes or so before my mother comes in and throws the covers off of me, causing me to yelp and start shivering like crazy.

I take a quick shower and throw on a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt – one of those things I’ve had since 4th grade, but still manage to fit in. I run a brush through my hair quickly and then put it into a quick ponytail. Add a little of lip gloss, a touch of mascara, and I’m done. Presentable, but nothing glamorous.

I grab a bagel, and fall asleep on the car. We’re early, so I take my time trudging up the stairs to my locker. I look around with a tired smile – it’s nice to see everyone again. Diane’s got the locker to my right, and Traci the locker to my left. Haley’s is across the hall. Diane’s already there, talking with a group of friends, but when she sees me she lights up and latches on to my arm.

“Kris,” she whispers, dragging me away. “I have to talk to you.”

“What about?” I ask, as I veer her towards my locker and open it.

Di gives me a look, as if it should be obvious. Then she mouths something. I raise an eyebrow and reply, "I have no idea what the hell you're saying, love.”

She groans melodramatically and practically yanks me out of the hallway and into the empty stairway. “I said Nick,” she hisses when we’re alone.

“Oh…” I laugh. “Sorry.”

She rolls her eyes. “You should be,” she says, pretending to be wounded. But her smile’s back within seconds, and she’s practically glowing. “So, guess what happened?”

“He asked you out?”

“God, don’t I wish. No, he didn’t. But he did ask to be my partner in that bio project. How awesome is that?” She’s definitely glowing now.

Nick Guist, one of the hottest guys in our class, has just asked my semi-best friend to work with him? “That’s fantastic. Hey," I tease, "maybe he likes you."

Her smile drops and her voice falters a little. “I don’t think so, Kris. There’s so many girls who like him…he could pick any of them. What would he see in me?”

“An extremely hot girl with a rather nice personality,” Sam answers with a grin, coming up behind us. “Hey girls,” he adds, draping his arms across our shoulders. “How are you lovely ladies doing?”

“Sam! Were you listening?” Di shrieks.

“Me? Listening? Nonsense,” Sam smirks. “Though if you two want to know a little something about a certain Nick Guist…” Di hits him, and he laughs. “Di, you do know it was kind of obvious from the start, right?” There’s something strange about his tone, and I turn around to examine him. Is that…bitterness I hear?

“Oh, whatever,” Di grumbles. “Don’t tell anyone,” she tells Sam viciously before stomping off.

I glance over at Sam. “Nice going.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.” He watches her leave and then turns to me with a lopsided smile. “Well, I ought to get my stuff from my locker. I’ll catch ya around later, kay Kris?”

I nod. “Alright.” He too leaves, and I’m left alone with my thoughts.

Could Nick actually like Di? It’s possible, certainly, if not likely. She’s a pretty girl, prettier than most, and he does seem to hang around her a lot… It’s strange, actually, how much time he spends with her. She’s not his type at all. I shrug. It’s none of my business…and yet a small, selfish, self-pitying part of me is saying, "Why can't it be me? Why can't I be the one on the edge of my seat, wondering if this hot guy likes me?" The bell rings, snapping me out of my thoughts. I shoulder my backpack and head up the stairs again. My first class is photography, an elective. It’s a nice class, and there’s only seven people in it: Lorraine Singer, Meg Jocelyn, Brian Hartcroft, Randle Smith, me...and, well, how could I forget? Shaylee Richardson and Aiden Caulsworth.

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A/N: Well, I’ll admit it, I was going to ditch this story. I started a new one (the Risks Worth Taking…if you haven’t read that, please do! It’d mean a lot to me), and decided to just stick with that one. Then I got a review from Faded Soulfire…and well, I read the review, and was like, “Damn, you know, maybe I should continue this story…” So, this chapter’s here because of her, really.

I think what I’m going to do is alternate between the Risks Worth Taking and this one. I’ll continue both, unless I change my mind later on. As for the others…aside from Forgotten Autumn Nights (which I may still be motivated to update every 10 months or so :P), I think I’m putting them all aside. I really need to finish a story, and I can’t do that if I’m working on 9 at once.

Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter! I kind of rushed it, and it’s not as long as I would have liked…but it’s done (for now), and it’s up, and I’d love to hear some feedback. More characters have been introduced, many of which you will get to know a lot better as the story progresses. Sam’s a central character, Di’s a central character, and Haley will certainly show up again.

Of course, there are still new characters to meet. Nick, Shaylee, and Aiden are all really important – and theywill be introduced officially next chapter. It’ll be fun hearing what you guys think about them. :) Nick especially.

So who’s prince charming? Some asked if it was gonna be Aiden. I’ll just shrug for now, and smile mysteriously, and tell you to keep on reading.

One of the things I’m trying to do with this story is have it be virtually cliché-free. I want it to be realistic, something that could happen to anyone – not just the girl with a popular older brother, or the girl who’s neighbors with the guy she likes, or the girl who’s part of a bet. So please, warn me if I start falling into any clichés. Also, I’d like to say that if there’s any romance between Kris and Aiden, it will not be because of the project Kris and Sylvia are doing together. So, don’t worry about another project cliché…

Anyway, thanks for reading! I’ll try to update soon…but no promises yet.