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Kchan: Hee! Chitose has met her match, in one Ai Reed (new character!!)! Eeek! Chapter 10 already! And I put a shojo-ai warning in the Summary now, just because I think it might get a little too girl-lovey to suit some people in a few chapter. Tamora Pierce’s books are also mentioned in here, and just so you all know yes she is a real author and I don’t try to claim to own the copyright on her books. Used to read them as a kid. : D
Warnings: Chitose making fun of goth and emo kids, just because she can. 0.o (sorry, don't hate her! : hugs :)
I think the worst word in here is ‘bloody’. Omigawd!Only because Chitose is the narrator though, and she’s too smart to cuss a lot (at least in my opinion). Can’t think of much to warn about, so enjoy!
Chapter 10
Ai Hate You
.: In Chitose’s POV :.
I needed out of the apartment. Desperately. Minako was now getting on my nerves, as was Umeki. You might think, what’s new? You’re always mad at Umeki. Well, besides my normal annoyance with her, I’ve been cooped up with her for a few weeks straight. I need a break. Plus, Umeki was having one of those days where she hated Minako again, and wanted me to cheer her up or something. And of course, she wouldn’t tell me specifically why she hated Minako; just that she hated him for a good reason. Well I’ll be… I think she believes I’m a bloody psychic.
I just left a note on Minako’s computer, telling him to just leave the papers on the desk and I’ll scan them in later. That, and that I was going out. I didn’t tell him where I was going because I wasn’t quite sure myself. I just knew that I needed to go outside for a while; alone. Maybe just to at least sort out my thoughts.
It was still a little cool outside, since it was still pretty early in the morning. Early enough that the sun was just barely coming up. Mind you, this is the summer, so this was very early. It felt nice though; barely any people out and it wasn’t muggy and hot outside yet. Perfect time to go take a walk.
Now, on the subject of Umeki. What? I can’t get her out of my head; she’s constantly around and its torture. Absolutely horrible. I keep wanting to just say something, but I don’t because I get too nervous, or something like that. And when I get nervous, my stomach starts hurting. I’m going to have stomach ulcers like nobody’s business before the summer’s over with. You just watch.
And she’s so stupid! Can’t she pick up on subtle hints? I’ve been giving her enough subtle hints to choke a horse, but no! She’s completely ignorant. It was rather cute at first, the way she was so childishly innocent. Now it’s just annoying. But then I start wondering if she even likes other girls in the first place? I just assumed at first; her mother used to make so many comments about how Umeki was worrying her, what with her not being interested in any boys.
That got my hopes up a little, and I thought I had a chance. But then there was also, that ‘best friend’ thing to get passed. I knew it might be hard to get passed that barrier, but I didn’t know it was going to be damned near impossible.
I wish I could just outright ask her, and get an answer back and that’s it. Not knowing its going to kill me.
All wrapped up in my thoughts, I stared down at the ground angrily as I walked. This was stupid; I could have run into someone. Incidentally, I did. I felt someone slam into my shoulder as the walked passed. I muttered a, “Sorry” and was about to keep on walking until I heard something drop.
I turned to make sure it wasn’t the person who had dropped. Thankfully it wasn’t; it was only a small pile of books. There was, however, a disgruntled-looking girl who was hastily picking up her books. She had long black hair that was curled into ringlets, and was wearing a black, lacy, short dress. I helped pick up a few and handed them to her.
She glared at me with icy blue eyes when I handed her books back. Lips that were stained bright red with lipstick were set in a slight pout that I don’t think was intentional. Like her face was naturally set in pout-mode, despite the fact that she was glaring. I have to say, she was a little scary. Just a little; I expect she’s about what I look like when I glare at people, except she was prettier and… well… … more gothic-looking.
“Look where you’re going next time” she snapped at me, “You staring at the ground is the reason why I ran into you in the first place”
I gave her my best indignant look I could possibly muster. Who does this gothic bimbo think she is? I gestured to the side walk around us, free of other people since we were apparently the only ones on the street, and countered, “My fault?! You could have well avoided me! Look at all the space on the bloody side walk! You didn’t have to walk in my path!”
“Oh, so you own the sidewalk, now do you?” she sniffed, “Well excuse me, Princess Priss. I’ll remember that next time I decide to take a walk on your bloody sidewalk”
“Think I’m a priss, eh?” I snapped, “You want me to kick your ass, or do you just get your kicks out of insulting people you don’t know?”. I was too mad at this point to realize we sounded like bickering children. Intellectual children on my part, but children nonetheless.
The other girl opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to formulate a witty response. I couldn’t help but smirk at this; I was winning now. She stopped, and regained her icy glare once again. “Nah, I don’t fancy you kicking my ass. See, I don’t know about you, but I’m not into the whole masochism scene”
“Oooh… burn. It took you that long to come up with that?” I asked, rolling my eyes.
“Oh, grow up” she snarled.
And then it went quiet, and I was surprised to find that we had been aimlessly walking side-by-side down the street. Since when? And why would I want to be walking around with her? She obviously has anger problems, worthy of counseling. Plus, she dresses like some bloody emo kid. My life is pain, gimme a smoke, kind of thing.
“So…what are you reading?” I ventured, trying to glimpse at the covers of the books discretely. You know, so she wouldn’t notice and then think I was really interested in what she was reading.
She glanced over at me, her icy glare melting just a little. Warming up just a degree or so. “It’s really none of your business, but I’ll tell you anyways” she said in a slightly arrogant tone that made me grit my teeth to prevent any snide comment. “Mostly stuff by Tamora Pierce. You heard of her? She writes about medieval times I think, and lots of ‘girl-power’ kind of stuff. Girls going off to become knights when it wasn’t allowed. That kind of thing”
Of course I’ve bloody well heard of Tamora Pierce! I’m a closet fan of her books! I’ll never admit it (especially not to Umeki), but I have most of her series. Like the Song of the Lioness quartet, about a girl named Alanna who dresses up as her twin brother to become a knight. I’ve loved those books since I was like 9 years old.
“Oh, her? I think I’ve read one or two of her books,” I commented off handedly. There’s irony in that statement. And what’s she doing reading stuff like that anyways? Don’t goth people read about vampires and people killing themselves or whatever? So I’m stereotypical, shoot me.
The girl only raised her eyebrow at my comment, in a way that suggested she knew that I had done more that just read one or two of Tamora Pierce’s books on occasion. “I took you for the type to read only glossy magazines and sometimes cheesy romance novels. With big print and easy-to-understand words” she said casually.
I snorted at this. “Just because I’m blonde doesn’t make me stupid”
“And just because I’m wearing all black doesn’t make me a gothic kid” she countered, as if she had been reading my previous thoughts. I gaped at her in bewilderment, but she only shrugged and said, “You kept giving me a dirty look. Just wanted to clear that up”
I rolled by eyes. “Oh, okay. I see, big difference between goth kid and emo kid, right?” I asked sarcastically.
She skipped a few paces ahead of me, clutching the books close to her stomach. She did a quick twirl, and I was horrified to find that I was fascinated by the way the lace trim moved around her legs as she spun. Ooooo… bad thoughts.
“I guess there is a difference, but I wouldn’t know” she answered, and waited for me to catch up with her again before walking, “I just dress however I want. And today, this is how I wanted to dress”
“You’re hypocritical then” I accused, “Making fun of what I decided to wear”
“Only because I thought you were some blonde fashion nut”
“Hypocrite”
.:--:.
We ended up stopping for breakfast at a little diner. Go figure that. I found out her name is Ai Reed. Aparently, she’s part English. Or was it Irish? Eh, who really cares? I certainly don’t. She could be part English, part French, and part bloody Heifer for all I could care (and yes, the cow part was intentional. Hmph, so I hold grudges…).
Anyways, it was actually kind of nice. Besides the fact that I had to listen to a fake emo girl yammer on about my favorite author, and me having to pretend I really didn’t give a care.
“So anyways” Ai continued, flipping a black ringlet of hair out of the way, “Enough about books. What kind of music you listen to?”
I sipped at the iced tea I’d ordered. The waiter was taking forever to bring the food. I thought about her question, and answered (just a mite snobbily), “Nothing you listen to, I imagine. I mean, I think you probably listen to My Chemical Romance on repeat”. Erk… nevermind I had a thing with said group for a while. Ai was giving me a funny look, so I hastily continued, “Actually, I don’t listen to anything in particular. Just whatever comes on the radio. Except country. Hate country music”
“Glad that your almost open-minded” Ai snorted.
I drained the last of my iced tea and glanced around the diner for the waiter. Nowhere in sight. I sighed and turned back to Ai. “What about you then? My Chemical Romance on repeat?”
She actually looked a little flustered at the question, and glanced around with shifty blue eyes. She leaned forward and gestured for me to do the same. I did so there were only a few inches between us. Close enough that I could smell what shampoo she used.
“Jazz. Love it. Great to dance to. Same with techno.” She answered, and then leaned back in her chair, giving me a wink.
What was that for? The wink I mean? Apparently there was confusion on my face, because Ai said, “You’re going beet red. It’s kind of funny, because I’d never expect you the type to get red in the face like that. Except if you’re mad”
Erk. What?! Who says I’m blushing, dolt! “I am mad! Who says I’m blushing” I countered while stating my inner thoughts, and then looked back around the diner and finally saw the waiter, “It’s taken forever just to get breakfast!”
Ai glanced down at a little red watch on her wrist and giggled in the most annoying way you could possibly imagine. She gave me a sort of triumphant look and announced, “It’s only been 5 minutes, love. Do you go red in the face when you're mad, or are you just blushing? I think you’re just blushing, but I can’t figure out why…”
“I think you’re just blushing, but I can’t figure out why…”
The way she said that just implied something.
I pounded my fist on the table, rattling the empty glass and her cup of hot chocolate. “I do NOT think you’re attractive, if that’s what you’re saying!”
The other few customers in the diner stopped talking and looked in our direction. I slunk down in my chair, feeling my face grow hotter, and absolutely seething with hatred for the girl across the table. Ai though, seemed unfazed by all of this. She simply shrugged and took a sip of her hot chocolate that she hadn’t touched since it was brought out to her. “I said nothing like that. You put those own thoughts in your own head, love.” And she winked at me again, “But I like your thinking”
“I hate you” I hissed quietly, so the eavesdropping customers would stop listening in.
“Hate is a strong word” she said.
“Fine!” I yelped, disregarding the other customers once again, “I abhor you! I loath you! I detest you! I… I… I dislike you!”. Can we say, Chitose is running out of vocabulary here?
“Oh, well that’s alright then, isn’t it?” she asked sarcastically.
So, there was another silence that lasted a long time (but according to Ai was only another 5 minutes). The silence with finally broken by the waiter, who brought my order of French Toast (or Freedom Toast I guess, if you’re a George Bush fan), and Ai’s order of scrambled eggs and sausages. Everything was either burnt or underdone. Ai gave up on her eggs half-way though, because if they were any more undone they’d be clucking. My toast on the other hand, had apparently gone through the fires of Hell to be cooked, since most of it was crispy and blackened.
No tip for you!
And, on finishing eating and getting the bill, we definitely didn’t leave a tip. I think the waiter muttered something like, “Nazi’s” when he collected the money. Lovely place; I think I’ll never eat here again. Ever. Even on the threat of torture.
Ai and I (say it out loud; it sounds a little funny) left the diner and talked for a little bit. And I guess somewhere in there, I realized I didn’t hate her that much. We ended up exchanging phone numbers and decided to meet up again another time. I don’t know why I even went along with it. I should have written down a fake number and I’d never have to see that fake-gothic-brat ever again.
Maybe it was the angry banter. It’s nice to have someone to properly argue with, that won’t break down in tears if you try to speak your mind for once.
.:Kyande:.