Fiction » Romance »

Peyton Crest High
Author:
PicturesqueReality PM
"Kiss me," He smirked, knowing fully well that he'd win. "Or are you too much of a sore loser to back out on the bet's agreements?" I gritted my teeth and glared, I was anything but. "Cheating dick." I uttered, before unexpected fireworks exploded.
Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Humor - Chapters: 2 - Words: 8,924 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 12 - Updated: 01-14-12 - Published: 11-02-11 - id: 2966559
A+  A-   Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten

Chapter 1.

God, I love Krispy Kreme.

I mean really, who doesn't? It's like sex in the mouth. No one can hate it even if they tried. Like really, really, really tried. Its sickeningly sweet scent, passing ever so slightly through your nostrils, luring you to just grab a bite, tempting you to spoil yourself and indulge in your sweet needs —pun highly intended— probably doesn't help either.

Looking around, I found myself surrounded by dozens of cute little circles, each graced with a single hole in the middle, decorated to be perfection at its finest. The wide and ever-changing range of its varying embellishment adorned the doughnuts with beautiful colors; from the breath-taking caramelized color of the mango passion, to the midnight blue and a tinge of purple, complete with a glazed overcoat of the blueberry delight. Anyone could have easily mistaken these mouth-watering babies for luxurious pieces jewelry with outrageous prices ranging from hundreds of dollars to a million.

Or maybe that's just me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not the gluttonous teenager with weight problems, no, not in the least; quite the opposite, actually. Believe it or not, I am quite contented with the body size I have, with my adorable—catch the sarcasm here—self weighing at around a hundred and six pounds which matches my petite height of 5"2 quite well, if I may say so myself. Regarding the eating habits, though… I simply take what I can and I really adore eating.

Which is the understatement of the year, really, because I can't live without food. But okay, given the fact that no one can really live without food, that was quite a stupid thing to say. What I meant by that was I can't go for even an hour or three without chewing on something. A piece of candy would suffice for me if I was at school, but I'd prefer something like a piece of bread better, or maybe even a grilled steak with cute little onions on the side if I was lucky. But damn, put all of those together and I'd be happy for the rest of the day.

So yeah. Maybe I am a bit gluttonous. Just an itty bit, though. I'd prefer that over being a skinny, seemingly brittle I'm-proud-I-don't-have-any-meat-on-me anorexic teenager with fake blonde hair, galling blue eyes that you just want to claw out, make-up caked face, Britney Spears wannabe like that girl in my Physics class with the name of Jessica "Crony of McBitch number one" Arnolds. Who McBitch is, though, is another story I'll save for next week.

After that thought, I immediately reached out for this alluring piece of vanilla flavored doughnut complete with colorful sprinkles and an aroma that would never fail to send my hazy mind reeling with desire and anticipation. Feeling its soft texture on my hands, I brought it close and closer to my—most probably filled with saliva—lips and began to take a huge bi—

"Arianna Eleanor Elizabeth Reagan!" I winced. Ah, it was a nice daydream anyway, I thought, as I snapped my head up to face my mom. It wasn't everyday that she decides to torment my life by using my full name in order address me. I don't hate my name, don't get me wrong. It's just that it's so… Girly. And before you get any crazy ideas, no, I am not a boy at heart. I am as straight as anyone can get. Except maybe my nose since it isa little bit crooked, seeing that I broke it when I was seven, but hey! I was trying to save my twin brother's ass from being pummeled by a bunch of idiotic bullies who thought that it would help them get the girl they want. Really though, my brother and girls. Attract like freakin' magnets. Gets him into trouble way more than necessary. "Breakfast is ready! Goodness, what are you doing outside staring at nothing?" My mother shrieked out of nowhere, her head popping out from inside our peach-colored house. "God, don't tell me you've lost your mind! Come here before your breakfast gets cold! And for goodness' sake get that dazed expression off of your face! You look like you're high on drugs!" And just I expected, she narrowed her eyes at me murderously. "You aren't, are you?"

I rolled my eyes, sitting up from the usual place I occupied in our back yard; three steps to the right of the umbrellas, then four steps backwards, completely opposite where the gnome is. And yes, we have a gnome. My dad joked about getting my mom one for their eighth anniversary but suddenly thought it would be way funnier if he took it seriously. In short, well, he didn't get the result he was hoping for. Instead of putting it inside the house as he expected mom would, it went out here. Way, way, wayin the deepest, farthest corner of the yard. It creeped us all out, with the exception of my dad. He still thought it heartrending for the gnome to be all by itself, as to why he thought it would be cool to buy a Pomeranian dog named Max to keep it company once in a while. Personally, I think even Max is scared of it sometimes, seeing as how he wouldn't even go near the creepy thing when dad's not around. "Oh yeah mom, high as a kite right now." I deadpanned sarcastically while she shoots me a warning glance before going back to the confines of our house.

Sauntering unperturbedly towards our humble abode, I heard a crash from inside, which was instantaneously followed by an obviously displeased Caleb. "Fucking hell! That hurt like shit! Crap, can't anyone fix the stairs? I swear, that things' been out to get me ever since. Fuck."

"Caleb Angelo Patrick Reagan! You become worse every passing day!" My mother's deafening screech scolded him from the dining table as I snickered past her, heading straight for the cupboards. "Your father and I did notraise you up to be someone that swears like a drunken sailor! And we absolutely did not raise you up to be someo—" She halted halfway as she raised an unamused eyebrow while watching an oblivious Caleb who was mimicking her quietly. Caleb, on the other hand, babbled on and on and on with his hands on his waist, mimicking mom, completely unaware of the audience he has gained for himself.

I snorted like no proper lady ever could as mom whacked him on the head so hard, I could've sworn his eyes bulged. Well, serves him right for devouring my favorite cereal last week.

"Geez mom, what was that for?" He grumbled, all the while rubbing the back of sore his head. "It's not like it's my fault this house is nearly prehistoric."

"Cale," I started. "While your knack for overstating the obvious is highly entertaining, there is completely nothing wrong with our good 'ol house. You, on the other hand, might need to get your eyes looked at seeing that a smashed, worn-out beetle could outdo you anytime." I shot him an innocent smile and patted his thick midnight black hair before sitting myself beside our dad and attacking my breakfast.

Cale cast me an annoyed look that seemed to say so much for a loyal twin. "Oh so that's how it is. Gang up on me with mom, why don't you. But at least dad is still on my side. Bros before hoes, that's the motto we live by! Isn't it, dad?"

Dad looked up at him and replied with his usual air of authority, "Your mother is not a ho." I smirked at my dad's choice of words. And with those simple words, he sent Cale mumbling to himself about being adopted and underappreciated, but not before mom whacked him on the head once more for, albeit unintentionally, calling her with something that held a highly degrading connotation.

My mom hasn't always been this violent, as hard as that is to believe. Katherine Reagan spends most of her time catering to everyone's needs and more or less forgets her own. Having been able to successfully deliver twins for her first-born elated her to the point that she spoils us silly whenever given the chance, paying no heed to the gossiping neighbors who thought that she knows not how to discipline her own children. Of course, it probably didn't help that everytime Caleb and I were together, which consisted of three-fourths of our lives, were ultimate time-ticking bombs that brought chaos almost everywhere we go. We got away with the troubles we accidentally stirred up, whether it involved the heavy makeover of Mr. Fitzgerald's favorite cat, Mimi—whom we deemed worthy enough to deserve our special de-hairing services, if you know what I mean—or the spray painting incident when we were in kindergarten, which resulted to a very angry, very purple teacher—pun intended. Needless to say, Caleb and I have been living our lives to the fullest by making others miserable while my mom, God bless her, would turn her blind eye on us whenever angry neighbors would complain, claiming that we were just doing what kids do best, what kids were supposed to do. So there we were, wreaking havoc everywhere—The Terrible Twins, people would call us—with our mom supporting us by the sidelines. Well, until Caleb decided that it was reasonable to pick up a baseball bat and hit this bully—remember the why my nose was crooked?—silly with all his might. To end the story, let's just say that the bully never say it coming, quite literally, while Caleb and I were much more unfortunate, sentenced to face my mother's bloodcurdling wrath for the first time ever in our young lives.

It probably doesn't help that she's currently pregnant with her third child, either. It's scary, really, my mom and her mood swings. But it doubtlessly does suck, with what her uterus being ripped open loud and proud thrice in her lifetime.

After one of my typical inner musings, I realized Caleb shooting me a bemused glance after sending an inquiring one directed at our parents' way. Curious as to what Caleb was being quizzical about, I decided to take sneak peak at mom and dad, noting that they looked like they were communicating albeit silently, which was nothing new for dad, seeing that he did have his quiet moments, but mom? Really? Is the word quiet even in her vocabulary? Apparently. But even so, this is highly suspicious.

I shot Cale a look that conveyed that I felt his uncertainties as well, and nodded slight at him while he returned the action. I swallowed the bite I took just three seconds ago, cleared my throat and stretched my arms to both sides. "What's up, mom?" If there was anything that I knew my mom couldn't handle, it was pressure. And pressure it is being given to her by three beings who silently urged her to answer my question. Four, if Max, our dog, is added. Seeing her grab a hold of dad's hand made me want to take back my action. I never liked making my mom nervous, seeing that her pregnancy was affecting her mood swings a whole lot. But I quote Shakespeare's Macbeth, What's done cannot be undone.

Normally, mom would just blurt out stuff she needed to tell us, but her being exceedingly skeptical about this matter is admittedly keeping me on the edge. Fidgeting nervously under our gazes, Mom looked at dad with hesitation still clouding her eyes. "Andrew, would you mind telling the kids about this?"

Dad nodded, as if he already knew beforehand the fact that mom wouldn't be able to spill the beans to us, whatever kind of bean that is, and knowing their profound understanding of each other, this idea is not to be doubted.

Cale and I looked at each other, puzzled, as dad cleared his throat and declared his announcement. "Kids, I know this will be hard for you, since you have lived here, in this place, in this house, ever since you were born. You started school here, and have made a number of trustworthy friends. I know that this is a very sudden decision, but believe me when I say that your mother and I have thought about this carefully, taking all your needs into consideration." I braced myself as dad paused, knowing fully well that we weren't going to like what he was about to say next. "I was offered a new job."

It was silent for a moment, with only the old grandfather clock behind the head of the table ticking away soundly, until Cale let out a heavy sigh of relief and laughed. "Was that it, dad? Good for you then! I mean, your job as an engineer was really cool, don't get me wrong, but who are we to stop you if you suddenly wanna ditch that? Just mere spawns of your incredibly good genes, mixed with moms', that's who!" He chuckled for a good second and shook his head. "Man, dad, you got me there. I thought it was something big, ya know? What's the new jo—"

"In California." Dad added evenly, at the same time receiving mom's deathly grip that honestly looked a whole lot painful from here.

A pin drop of silence. Mom kept glancing at dad, as if asking whether or not this would be good for the family whilst dad sternly stared at us, waiting for the dreaded reaction he knew he would get one way or the other. I still couldn't understand. In California? Was dad going to leave us here, or is it going to be us leaving the place we came to love with everything we've got? No. Don't think electrons, Aria! I'm sure the parents wouldn't even dare making a huge decision like this one without even asking us about it! They cared too much for us to do that... right?

"What?"Caleb exploded after few moments of silence which was slowly becoming the number one recurrent event of the day. "What do you mean, California? We live in New Jersey, dad!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands about, showing signs of his growing irritation. "You can't just expect us to up and leave for fu—"

"Caleb," Dad started, warning him enough with his tone of voice. It had the desired effect on Caleb shutting him up immediately. He slumping down on the seat beside me, not forgetting to create a number of unnecessary noises which we all know he could've survived without.

He shot me an irritated look, clearly saying, well? Aren't you gonna say anything? I just looked at him with my mouth open agape, and with that, he finally realized that he wasn't gonna get anything out of me, bringing him to his decision which was to turn back and glare at the empty space before him, still fuming.

Dad glanced at mom briefly before looking back at us, and this time, by the way his facial expression looked, I knew that he was going to say the words we didn't want to hear, but knew we had no choice but to, anyway. "Cale, Aria."

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

"We're moving."

And then suddenly, I couldn't breathe.


Author's Note: Hello everyone! This is the story I had on my past account and decided that it still had quite the potential, so I did few major editings here and there, resulting to this! Since I've written the next three chapters for this one already, I'm working of editing those, you know, get rid of the horrendous grammatical errors and shallow characters, and such. So there, watch our for this one, I'm have for it big hopes!

Reviews and criticisms are highly welcome! :)

Favorite : Story Author   Follow : Story Author

  .    .