Author: silentsings PM
He was awkward and quiet, she was gorgeous and popular. They were such an unlikely couple brought together by a turn of events in their lives. ::NEW WRITING STYLE TRIED OUT::Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Words: 1,531 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 5 - Published: 07-13-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2932409
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Another one-shot! :) I just got a little inspiration for this, and unlike some other of my forced writing, I wrote this non-stop for two hours and this was the result. To be honest, I'm kind of proud of it. ;) And that's saying a lot, since I usually bash my own writing no matter what anyone says. Haha.
All reviews are loved; flames, CCs, and praises, or a mixture of all of them. Enjoy.
written by silentsings
It will all work out in the end.
They'd learned that the hard way.
The first time he became friends with her, was when she was heartbroken. He was a geek of a guy, and he didn't know how else to do it. He just knew he couldn't stand people being treated that way. He'd spent his time, practically his life around books and science experiments during most of his free time, and didn't have much of a social life, especially with girls. He was pretty sure that he was the total antithesis of any girl's dream guy.
Her, on the other hand – dashing, popular, and so pretty even without make-up. [He thought she looked much better without the artificial things on.] She'd gone out with the most popular guys and partied regularly, hardly spending time to actually study, unlike him.
Her social status dropped badly when her so-called friends found out that she was on scholarship for the private high school. She had cried, and cried, and turned into a loser and a loner, like the ones she had always picked on.
While he stood in the shadows and watched her, he decided that he'd had enough. He – he Jonathon Hailemen – stood up for her. He was earned some disgusted looks and called an "attention-seeker". She just stared at him in disbelief, but allowed herself to hang out with him.
It was only the start of something beautiful.
The first time she fully gave in to a hug from him, was when she really got an A on her biology essay without cheating. Before that, her mother didn't know about her popularity level diminishing, but she did know about her grades. So when she saw her daughter's report card, her mom had grounded her and told her that there was no way she could go back to partying, if she didn't get those grades up.
That was fine with her. She wouldn't be invited to anymore parties, anyway. But the real problem was the grades.
She was hesitant – shy even – to ask her new "friend" for help. It disgusted her how she could flirt endlessly with the hard-to-get guys and get them, while she couldn't even ask for help from someone like him.
He'd agreed, looking slightly uncomfortable. They'd spent their whole free time in the library, while he helped her with research. It felt odd, and she always had the urge to just run away and leave him with the work, but she figured she owed him something for how he stood up for her.
A few days passed after she turned the essay in. Her seat was between one of her ex-boyfriends and her backstabbing ex friend in Biology class. The teacher slid her essay on the table, with a rare smile on his face and a grudging, "Nicely done."
She was the only one at her table, seeing as the class already erupted into chaos. She flipped the paper over, hesitating slightly, before her face broke into a wide grin, a squeal escaping her mouth.
She spun around, nearly knocking him off of his feet. He was right behind her the whole time. Her eyes gleamed and without warning, she hugged him.
A disbelieving silence settled over the room. She felt awkward in his arms; he was too tall and lanky. She could feel him trying not to squirm, but he soon relaxed. He wasn't like the other guys she was used to.
Her peers started whispering, and she allowed herself to ignore it and think about how wrong it felt, but how much she liked it.
The first time they had officially hung out was when he decided to stop being a coward and voice his opinions. They grew accustomed to hanging around each other now. In school, that is. He would never admit it, but he would love to spend more time with her. Which explained why he his palms were sweating every five seconds, when he thought of what to say to her.
She'd flashed him that pretty smile of hers when he told her, rather shakily, that "maybe we should hang out sometime after school?" He managed a crooked smile back and when she agreed, he was grinning from ear to ear.
They hung out at a park, licking Popsicle sticks while walking barefoot in the grass. It was the most fun he'd ever had – even more fun than reading random articles in Wikipedia to pass time. He had asked her how she felt about her status in school – something he'd never asked her, in fear of her lashing out at him.
She'd just shrugged it off and answered with a curt, "Who cares anymore?" and dragged him to the pond to feed the fish.
He pushed that aside, smiling and feeling happy that she finally let go of it. They lost themselves in the splashing, the squealing, and the hot sun.
A year after their first date, she made him promise her something. Probably the most important promise of all, as she liked to call it.
"Promise me you won't leave me for anyone else," she had insisted.
He had agreed, and she made him say 'the Pledge' which she made up in two minutes. They both burst into hysterics at the how silly, but sincere it sounded.
She was sure – too confident, that he wasn't going to fail her.
A few months later, he couldn't bear it anymore. He couldn't bear to see her smile, to see her laughing, to hear her jokes and retorts, and to feel the numerous punches she had given him when he joked around with her, when he knew that he was going to break his promise.
He had changed over the course of months of her influence. He no longer spent his time around books and he was more civil, but he still had that pride in him. She had changed too. He liked that about her. She wasn't the snobby girl that broke guys' hearts every two weeks. She was more considerate, keeping the venom hidden expertly when commenting on things she didn't like, and more caring, even to strangers.
He didn't know how to break the news to her, but he did. All he remembered was the diner, them talking, him saying that he had an arranged marriage.
He, though, did not forget her reaction. It was so clear in his mind; he felt like it was imprinted there with permanent ink forever. She had stared at him, and for once out of all those months and year, he truly felt terrified of her.
But she hadn't done anything outrageous. Just simply murmur, "That's it?" She'd questioned him on and on about why he couldn't go against his parents' wishes.
He'd tried to explain; he really did. It wasn't like he wanted to, it was just arranged and there was nothing he could do about it.
She didn't bust. She just simply stood up, and pecked his cheek one last time. "I wish you happiness," were her last words before she stepped out of the diner.
He sat there, dumbstruck. He wanted to beat himself up. He wanted her to at least scream at him, cause some commotion, rather than be quiet. It hurt him, because he knew she was keeping those feelings bottled, and one day, it would explode.
The last he saw before his eyesight blurred was his girlfriend of two years and six months and fifteen days, passing by the diner window, a single tear making its way down her cheeks.
Years later, after that incident, she was in the same park, licking the same identical Popsicle stick, alone on "their" bench.
A stranger brushed by, almost knocking the Popsicle out of her arm. He had apologized, and when he looked up, she noticed that he looked a lot like her Jonathon Hailemen, except without the glasses. He had stiffened too, and then offered her a cautious smile, extending his arm.
"Lorrie Nelson," she had replied, just as cautiously. She couldn't help feeling of hope that ignited deep within her, and the butterflies starting. But what was the use? He will probably get married in a few years.
He had paused for a while, before breaking into the too familiar crooked grin. "Jonathon Hailemen; single."
She grinned at the last part.
Please point out any mistakes. Thanks for reading.