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"Favorite color?"
"Orange, of course. Favorite movie?"
"Brave Heart. Favorite TV show?"
"Gilmore Girls. Favorite sport?"
"Ew, none. Favorite singer?"
"That's a secret," I giggled.
I looked over at the clock that was sitting peacefully on Sarah's nightstand, ticking the seconds, minutes, and hours away.
4:57 AM
It seemed like it's only been five minutes since Dillon first called. I mean, really, time DOES go by fast when you're having fun. And in all honesty, just asking questions back and forth can be fun, even if they're kept on the light side.
Neither of us had asked about each other's past, or about our families, or if we were taken. Really, the questions were just about us and us alone.
He did ask me what my weight was. I told him the next time we see each other I'm going to slap him.
I know, that was a very sexy and flirtatious move to do.
Not.
It was Sarah's turn to be oh-my-god-shut-up. She was just fine with us talking… Until Jared said he was getting tired and was going to smack the sack. So they said their goodnights (FINALLY) and hung up.
Now she was sprawled across her bed in striped pink shorts and a white wifebeater despite the cold air, and closing her eyes in an irked way. She grunted every now and then, trying to signal that she was going to bed. She even pretended to sleep by snoring extremely loudly.
She was a bad actor.
"Is it, now," Dillon whispered softly into the phone. "And why is that?"
"Oh, because if I tell you, you might tell someone else and the whole world could end up knowing."
"What's so bad about that?" He persuaded.
"My god," Sarah droned. "At least put it on speaker so I can listen to both sides of the conversation and be strongly entertained."
I chose to ignore Sarah.
"A lot of things," I smiled.
"If you say so," He shrugged.
…
That wasn't how I expected that to turn out.
According to almost every magazine on the planet, a conversation like that should go more like:
Guy: What are these things?
Girl: Do you want to know?
Guy: Why yes, I do.
Girl: Then come here and I'll show you.
And blah blah blah blah…
But I guess real life is no damn magazine article. Actually, I don't even read magazines. Sarah does, though, and recites pretty much every article to me. She was practically a human magazine, herself.
But it kinda sucked that Dillon dropped out of the flirt session. I thought I was doing a pretty good job, considering the suck-genes that my parents had given me, one being the inability to flirt. They knew each other since they were born, grew up together, went out, got married, and all that. But they aren't that passionate as far as lovers go. I'd much rather call them friends.
"Hey, are you getting sleepy?" I asked him, in hopes our conversation wouldn't go dead.
"Yeah, I am," he chuckled. "Are you?"
I was wide-awake.
"Yeah, same" I laughed a bit also.
"I guess we should be heading to bed, then…"
"Indeed," I faked a yawn. "See you around, I guess. It was nice talking to you."
Another tip Sarah told me about. Rush the end of the conversation. If you do, you can see on whether or not the guy cares to drag it on a little longer.
"It was nice talking to you, too," He concluded. "Goodnight."
"Good-"
Click.
Well, ouch. That was kinda cold.
"Finally," Sarah growled, rolling onto her stomach as she heard the click. "What year is it? 2018?"
Officially, Sarah isn't a Five-O'-Two-In-The-Morning person.
"No, it's still 2007," I clucked, still listening the dead dial tone. Sarah only knew the conversation was over by the fact that she couldn't hear the faint murmuring of Dillon's voice.
"It sure doesn't seem like it," She hissed, stretching her arms and legs. "Are we allowed to go to bed, now?"
"You're the one to talk," I sighed, finally shutting my cell phone. "You'd be wide awake and happy right now if Jared was still awake. Why did Dillon want my phone number, anyway?"
"Oh," She looked at me and rested her head into her palm, which was propped up on the bed. "You know. Didn't you hear me tell Jared you were bored? He said Dillon was bored also and figured you two could talk."
So he had no desire talking to me. I was just a distraction from being bored? Well, that sure is gnarly.
I mean, really, I kinda hoped he had SOME reason to talk to me, other than Jared telling him to to get out of his boredom. Even if he were to call me just because he thought my halter-top matched my eyes, or whatever, that'd be good enough…
Despite the fact that light sea green doesn't exactly match dark purple. But a girl can dream, no?
Sarah apparently saw the disappointed expression on my face and frowned. "I'm sorry, Mel, it's-"
"I don't care," I faked a smile and a laugh, standing up from the window seat which I had been sitting on all evening. I glanced down at the red cushion and frowned upon the imprint my body had left behind.
I'm buttless.
I seriously have no butt.
That imprint was pathetic.
Sure, having no butt would be nice, and everything, but it's really a pain, because when a guy decides to slap- Okay, I really needed to go to bed.
"Are you sure?" Sarah asked, scooting over to one side of her gigantic king-sized bed.
"I'm very sure," I giggled, and got under the blankets (unlike Sarah, who somehow appreciates the cold), laying down and closing my eyes.
"Goodnight, Sar."
"Goodnight, Mel."
Just a couple minutes later I could hear the steady breathing of Sarah's lungs. She was lucky she could fall sleep easily.
I, on the other hand, couldn't sleep at all. No matter how much I tried to think about The Used's new CD, which would be coming out soon, or the Pre Calculus test I should've been mentally studying for that I was going to have on Monday, or just anything in general, my thoughts somehow traveled back to Dillon, and how our conversation was just for a boredom filler, nothing more. I also briefly thought about the scent of his chest, and how our bodies felt so good pressed together…
Then I remembered Charlie, and what he had said. About how I truly was a sex object for Dillon to play around with for five minutes.
I realized then that Charlie was obviously lying. Dillon would've wanted to talk to his sex object.
He didn't even care if we talked or not.
And when I say dark, I mean really dark.
Super pitch-black, in the darkest-
"Ow!" I yelled, just as something collided with the right side of my head. I squeezed my eyes shut in pain, holding my head.
What the hell was that thing?
Slowly after a few seconds I opened my eyes and looked at what had fallen by my feet (not to mention hit my head).
It was a giant green apple, the size of my head.
"What the fuck?" I asked myself, bending down and trying to lift it up.
It was too heavy, though. No matter how hard I tried, it just wouldn't budge.
"Hey, beautiful," It said.
…It spoke.
The giant green apple could talk.
"W-What?" I stuttered.
"You're so gorgeous," It whispered.
The apple was now sexually harassing me. Lovely.
But slowly as it spoke, it became less and less apple like. It gained eyes, a nose, lips, and started forming into the shape of a head. Pretty soon it had ears.
And green hair.
Click.
"Dominatrix Barbie! She can stretch, she can open her mouth, and she talks! Get it now, limited edit-"
Click.
"Meet Abby! Abby is a seven-year-old with no heat in her home-"
Click.
"-And here's Al, with the weather!"
Click.
"CAAAAAALL ME, BEEEEEEP ME, IF YOU WANNA REEEEEEEACH ME-"
Click.
"Dude! You do NOT put your best friend's girlfriend in your top five!"
Click.
"Pimp my ride, MTV!"
I sighed and clicked the TV off. Sunday morning TV sucked. Maybe the media thought that every single person in the universe was off at church so they decided to put the suck shows on?
Do they not care about the people who aren't religious, or don't go to church? How lovely of them.
At least Sarah's couch was comfy, and I was eating some Honey Nut Cheerios.
Mm, Cheerios.
"Ugh, the worst," Sarah moaned into her cordless home phone as she walked into the living room with a glass of orange juice. She glanced at my cereal sadly, wishing she could have some, herself. But eating while on the phone wouldn't be attractive. And Sarah is a loud chewer.
You can guess whom she's talking to.
She giggled. "Well, thanks. Same to you, too."
She took a sip of her orange juice and put it onto the coffee table, walking back into the kitchen.
I took a bite of my cereal.
By the time noon rolled around (Sarah and I had both woken up at ten, and didn't get much sleep) I was still spread across the couch (only in jeans and a t-shirt, now) and staring at the TV blankly as Sarah CONTINUED to talk to Jared.
They talk WAY too much.
I wonder if I should pick up on another line…
"Oh, stop it," She grinned, twirling her hair in a girly fashion.
I heard him say something back.
"Oooh," she sighed contentedly, almost moaning.
Oh my god.
I think that cereal is going to find its way out of my stomach.
"Well, look at that!" I pointed at the clock on TVGuide. "It's already 12:17! I'm gonna get going, now!"
GO GO GO!
"Hold on," She told Jared before covering the receiver with her hand. "Thanks for coming over. Talk to you tonight on AIM, or whatever."
Then she went back to talking to Jared. Seriously, just like that. Not even a "let me help you get your bag!" or anything.
I trudged up the stairs, careful not to stomp too loudly and scare Sarah's mom, who was cooking in the kitchen.
Within five minutes I was done packing all my clothes into my white Adidas bag (much shoving and pushing was involved; and my god, that sounds SO wrong) and heading back down the stairs.
But as I was going down the stairs, Sarah's dad was going up them
"Oh, Melissa!" He said, smiling. "Are you leaving so soon? Well, thanks for going with Sarah to that club- I appreciate it."
We passed each other.
I glanced at him nervously, biting my lip. It was bad luck to pass someone on the stairs.
AND YES I AM SUPERSTICOUS, OKAY!?
"You're welcome, Mr. Robinson. Thank you for letting me stay over."
"Anytime," he smiled, and headed to his room smoothly.
I, on the other hand, took one step more down the stairs and managed to slip.
All… the way… down…
And land on my face, with searing pain instantly rushing to my brain from the impact my nose had to take, and my overstuffed and crappily packed bag on top of me.
Can't. Move.
"Oh, you broke another string?" Sarah asked into the phone, heading into the hallway and toward the kitchen, completely ignoring me.
"I just broke another leg, if you care," I muffled darkly into the white carpet.
Sarah heard me and glanced on the floor, gasping. "Oh my god! Melissa, what happened to you?"
"I fell down the stairs, of course," I said to her, getting up and limping towards the door. I managed to hit my knee, too. "Well, see you later."
Wow, can you say 'oblivious'?
She shrugged. "Bye." And went into the kitchen.
…My best friend is truly dependable.
When I got outside, I walked—well, limped— to my blue jeep (it wasn't mine, really, more like my dad's, but still) and shoved my stuff into the passenger seat. Then I walked around to the other side and got in, buckling up (safety first, kids!) before putting the stick in drive and rolling away.
Sarah and I didn't live very far apart, in terms of distance. The only problem, really, was having to go through town in order to get to my house, unless I wanted to take the long way.
And I just wanted to go home and take a bath…
…With bubbles.
In just five minutes I was already in the square of the town, where a bunch of people were just hanging around for the bright sunny day, going on walks and hanging out with friends.
Ooh! And of course the water for the bath would be burning hot, and so relaxing. I could just feel it now, the peacefulness…
And that's when my car started to slow down.
I seriously felt it go from fast to slow. I glanced at the thing that read the speed I was going, and my eyes widened. The pointer was slowly going from 30 MPH to 15. I frantically searched to see what was the cause. I checked my breaks, if I was in drive, etc. Finally, I looked at the gas measurer and realized what was the problem.
I ran out of gas.
"Shit," I muttered, turning the wheel to the right in order to park on the side of the road. The people behind me beeped furiously, wanting to get by.
"Bite me!" I yelled out the window, finally parking and stopped. Everyone whizzed by, relieved that the slow one was out of the way.
Quickly, I stepped out of the jeep and onto the sidewalk. People walked by casually, not noticing me.
What was that thing I learned in Driver's Ed?
Go the nearest gas station, get a tank of oil, and bring it to your car…
That didn't sound right, but it was worth a try.
A few minutes later, I was walking down the street, to the gas station that seemed to only get further and further away.
I would've kept walking, I seriously would've…
If it wasn't for a little something I saw in the window of an instrument store called "Joe's Music".
A keyboard stood in the window, looking a little old and on the down side. There was a chip on the side of it, and the buttons looked on a little worn in. But the keys were perfect, shiny and neat as if they were new.
I looked above it, at the "SALE: $200.00" sign.
200 dollars was a bargain, compared to the prices of most keyboards.
I could just take a little look at it…
Mindless Self Indulgence: Hahaha. Green hair is cool. ) It's very pretty. Thanks for reviewing.
xav:
Hahaha. The green hair thing was a spur-of-the-moment. I wrote the
first two chapters in February '06, so… Yeah.
Hey,
what's wrong with Dillon? And why Charlie? ;) Hehehe.
And
as for the French part, because in the U.S. fries are called French
fries. Thank you for reviewing. :D
Not..brat: Thank you! And I'm sorry about your computer.
BLORP: Thank you!!
Red-Ink156: Thanks for reviewing. :D
Bansira: If I'm lucky, the story will turn out as well as I hope it will. Thank you for reviewing.