|Rocked Like Me
Author: Enigmatic Night PM
I may be somewhat strange, but he's got arrogance down to an art form. I may have thrown a rock at his car, but it's no excuse to concoct a plan to kill me. Honestly, who does he think he is? The nerve of some people. Course language, you've been warned.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Romance - Chapters: 31 - Words: 178,824 - Reviews: 1,138 - Favs: 1,292 - Follows: 446 - Updated: 12-06-08 - Published: 03-25-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2338817
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Summary: "I'm a peanut butter nutter from Sanitarium." Kara's somewhat strange. Jay's somewhat arrogant. They're both somewhat unaware of an attraction. BANG! Her rock smashes into his car window. Love? HA! Throw in normal/abnormal teenage behaviour, a (metaphorically) blind obsessed best friend, and an old childhood mate who happens to ooze humourous charisma, now times that by some -okay a lot- of the randomest facts and expressions. Wrap this all up in manipulation, douse it in a bet and you get this strange... random and hopefully funny story about a Samoan girl who's somewhat off her rocker.
Someone up there hates me.
This would explain why I was born with the inability to act like a normal person. I was never one for subtlety. Nor did I like to back down, even if the odds were against me say four to one? My mouth had a certain tendency to, how shall I say, run off without my brain's permission? I would say that I was working on it, but that would be lying.
I can't help but speak what I think, and I act, way before I even think to think. Are you following me? Well if I could explain it better I would, but I can't. I can't explain why I'm standing in front of four guys, locked in a staring competition that could probably end in my demise, or at least a serious beat down.
How I got myself into this situation is simple. I might have, thrown a small pebble at the main aggressor's car. Okay, maybe I did throw it and maybe the small pebble was a rock the size of my fist.
However that's beside the point, the point is they look ready to kill. Well, one looks ready to kill, one's big enough to kill me with his pinky and the other two make it four against one. I consider myself a tough girl, I mean I can hold my own against one guy.
Two? Uh maybe.
Three would definitely be pushing it.
But four? I don't think so. Alright, just keep the 'I'm not scared of you' look on your face and you'll be sweet. Right? Yeah right. You're screwed!
So maybe I was outnumbered and the odds were set against me, but a wise man once said- think brain! What did the wise man say? The angriest one has really pretty eyes. That's not what the wise man said you vale! When I revert to calling myself stupid in Samoan you just know I'm at least a little bit shitting my pants. Metaphorically, that is, I have too much dignity to ever move my bowels in public, in front of people, especially people who look ready to throw me in front of a bus. I would rather be thrown in front of the bus by people who aren't laughing at me, thank you very much.
I glanced back and a smidgen of fear was replaced by irritation. Note to self: find a better friend. Why? Because my current one, rather than helping me, was too busy standing beside my car ogling at the scary guys. Funny word, ogle. But that's what she was doing, just ogling as if they were demi gods sent to roam the earth at their leisure. I tried to imagine the sky parting in order to bask them in a warm glow and could only visualise lightning striking all four at once. Because if in their leisure they liked kick ass (namely mine) then I didn't want any part of it.
They ranged from tall to taller (save for the weedy short one) and were all very testocerone-y, I suppose. That's a thing, right? The tallest seemed less interested in the staring, rather just stared for staring's sake, the weedy one's glare was troll-like in my opinion.
When would the staring match end? The sun was really beginning to burn my brown skin. Whoever said brown people don't get sunburn was obviously white. I probably should be apologising, after all, I did throw the rock at the pretty eyed guy's overpriced vehicle. Hitting his windscreen and causing considerable damage but in my defence, I was totally aiming for the open passenger-side window in which the blond guy had been catcalling out of. Obviously my aim left something to be desired.
I audibly cleared my throat, all sorts of thoughts running through my scattered brain. The thought of dying here, on the side of the road with my guts spilling over was far from a welcoming thought. I want to live long enough to do things that a person should do before they grow old. But I have to be alive in order to grow old!
Let me grow old… dear God, le Atua e, please let me grow old!
"Did you throw this rock at my car?" The pretty eyed guy growled, no I'm not joking, he actually growled. He held the rock out and I stared at the perpetrator. Yes I'm blaming the rock. Sue me. If he doesn't beat you to it that is. It would seem he was trying to kill me with his emerald glare, and I was trying my hardest to not back down.
"I cannot tell a lie. We may live in New Zealand but let's all take something away from American history. George Washington was a truthful man even in his youth! He and I would have gotten along, if he were here and alive and not dead and a skeleton." Well, that's one way of putting it. I'm a master orator, you just can't tell, because my mouth and brain aren't on speaking terms right now. Or rather my brain is letting my mouth get away with itself.
"This isn't funny." He snapped. Who said it was? I didn't. My 'mata pei gi itu' which translated to 'monster-like eyes' as mother referred to them, remained trained on his green ones. My train of thought wandered back to wonder why my mum referred to my brown eyes as monsterish, I'm thinking it had more to do with the way I set them, as opposed to their colouring. Which, by many standards were plain and in no way monsterish. Allowing my attention to make its way back to here and now I noticed there was a certain tension in the air. It was either that or Old Man Jenkins down the road decided that it was time to air out his apartment.
"Jay, it's okay man. Chill." The blond guy, whom I was originally aiming at, said light-heartedly. After winking at Jess, he pulled the arm holding 'the perpetrator' down. "I'm sure it was an accident." His 'sales man' voice was pretty good. I couldn't help but picture him with a white collared shirt, selling a broken TV at wholesale price.
"No it wasn't, Pete." Jay replied, look I'm on a first name basis with the guy who's going to kill me! Mum would be so proud. His jaw clenched visibly, and I gave an involuntary gulp.
"Yeah she looked to be aiming at the car." Weedy guy piped up, he was the shorter of the four, with beady eyes and a somewhat slimy demeanour. "Right Burr?" He said, nudging the broader, taller, of the four, the staring for staring's sake guy who looked dreadfully mulish. Burr merely grunted. Talk about an ironic name.
"You'll have to forgive my friend-" Jess's sultry voice cut through, oh now you decide to help me, however I may have thought too soon, because Jess wasn't finished. "-she hasn't taken her pills." Some friend you are. I tried to send her my thoughts, but obviously her pretty head couldn't comprehend the scowl I gave her, because she merely gave me a coy smile, the ends of her ruby red lips turning up deceptively.
At this, Jay seemed to loosen a little. I didn't really like being thought of as some 'nut-case' but if it meant I wouldn't end up in some ditch, then so be it.
"I'm a peanut butter nutter from Sanitarium." I began to sing, my inability to become embarrassed, which was normally my downfall, was my savior today. I could act as crazy as I wanted without any repercussions (that mattered) and besides, it was fun.
"You're not kidding." Beady eyed guy said with a sniff, he ever so slightly moved back, as if 'craziness' was an infectious disease he could catch via osmosis.
"Yeah well, it still doesn't fix my broken windshield." Jay muttered angrily, running a tanned hand through his dark head of hair.
"Jay where are your manners?" The blond, Pete, asked smoothly. Reaching out an arm to shake Jess's hand, he smiled disarmingly. "I'm Peter, that's Jayjaco, Danny and Burrell, but we call him Burr." I looked on with a guarded gaze as he pointed out each of his friends, his eyes on Jess's cleavage. Jess, like the frivolous flirter she was, smiled at each boy… her pretty blue eyes always returning to the blond before her. Flicking her own red hair back she gave her usual ensnaring giggle.
"I'm Jessica, and this is Kara." I raised an eyebrow at the mention of my name.
Pete stuck out a hand, and rather than take it like a normal person I continued with my 'antic disposition' nipping at it. My teeth gave an audible 'clack' as I purposely missed.
"She tried to bite you dude!" Danny exclaimed, repulsion dripping off of his words.
"Feisty." Pete muttered.
I gave a short bark of laughter, earning me a worried look from Jessica. I sent her a cold smile that could only have been interpreted as, 'You wanted crazy, well Crazy's here and she ain't leaving.'
However as much as I wanted to get Jess back, what I really wanted was to get to school. A slight pang as I realised we could be late ricocheted through my body. We've already established that I'm a little odd. Why not fan keep piling on the oddities? I like school. I love the smell of textbooks and erasers, not to mention the feel of the desk's surfaces, etched with the petty graffiti of past students.
Besides, anywhere that wasn't here, in front of my 'would be murderer' was where I wanted to be. Jay was giving me an odd look, akin to interest. As if dissecting my every action, his green eyes, so angry before, were now filled with a sort of curiosity. He'd still not spoken to me directly after the initial growls.
I briefly wondered if he was going to reach out and slap me, however he stayed put, so I reckoned it was safe to reach out and snatch the rock out of his hand.
"Souvenir, shot. Rocks are meant to be stoned." I said solemnly. Turning slightly to slap Pete across the face. I gave a feral grin, as his surprised amber eyes met mine. "I never miss twice." I said baring my teeth, referring to the rock that was meant for him. I sang a favourite song of mine that I made up about rocks.
"Aggregates of minerals.. dum dum, and or mineraloids.. dum duumm. Three types, rock my world. Pun intended! Igneous, sedimentary and dum dum metamorphic." Jay gave a low growl, was my singing that bad? He was interrupted, however, by a surprising third party.
"I'm hungry." Burr spoke suddenly, causing me to jump slightly, like a cat on crack. Looking up at Burr's towering frame I was surprised to be confronted with the kindest eyes I'd ever seen. They were a deep hue of blue mixed with a little bit of orange, deep set eyes under heavy brows. I hadn't gleaned this from my earlier observations.
"Me too." I said truthfully.
"Twinkie?" He offered, pulling two packets out of his pocket.
"Ohh please!" I exclaimed, taking the offered food. I stuffed my face happily and just like that, I knew I'd found a friend in the big guy. Munching away I was slightly saddened to know that this would be the first and last time I would ever eat a Twinkie with Burr, what were the chances of us ever meeting again? And let's face it, I suck at keeping touch with strangers I felt a 'kindred spirit connection' with and Burr would be the first. As I finished the Twinkie, I smiled up at him in thanks.
I hadn't noticed that Jay and Danny had both gotten back into Jay's car, I could feel their gazes on me. Knowing that they were regarding me, like one regards a caged wild animal. Cautiously.
As Burr turned away, I walked towards a flirting Jess and Pete. Grabbing Jess by the forearm I towed her towards my car. "I'll call you." Pete said smoothly.
"You better." Jess said flirtatiously.
As I started the car, I was glad to have escaped that one alive. Though sad that I would never meet anyone as cool as Burr, I was more relieved that I would never have to face Jay's arrogant growling glare ever again.
But once again I was speaking much too soon, because I've said it before, and I'll say it again:
Someone up there hates Me.
Disclaimer- The Peanut Butter Nutter Sanitarium Jingle does not belong to me… but to Sanitarium. The term "Antic Disposition" comes from Hamlet, attributed to Shakespeare.
What do ya think? Interesting start? Lemme know, I'll appreciate it! Random I know, but it just came to me and demanded to be written. So review if you're interested. An Update would be pending it's reception.