A/N: This story is quite a different from "Movie Magic." The rating is for the dirty words that my fingers typed.
I must say, I'm having a lot of fun writing this story. Read and review, please. And give this story a chance. =)
Christian Baxter woke up with a bang - literally. He groped the air around him, searching blindly for the loud and annoying alarm clock. Once he felt the plastic buttons, Christian quickly slammed the snooze button, grateful for the new silence. Christian groaned and immediately held his head in both hands, massaging his temples to ease the pain of the headache.
"Son of bitch…" he muttered as he tried to stand. However, it was to no avail as Christian shakily sat back down on his lumpy bed, feeling the effects of a hangover. It took a few minutes, but once he was sure he could stand, he groggily walked into his bathroom.
Once in, Christian gripped the edges of the porcelain sink and stared at himself in the mirror. His dark green eyes looked back at him, hating the way they were bloodshot and puffy. As he thought back on the events of the previous night, fragments of his memory came back slowly. Christian remembered getting into another fight with his father, then to no surprise, storming out of the house. Carter Hall found him pathetically alone at the mall and insisted that they go and crash a party. He really couldn't remember anything else after that except drinking heavily and making out with some random girl.
After taking a short, hot shower, Christian left his room feeling a lot better. The headache was still present, but it had eased up a little and it was nothing he couldn't handle. He went straight to the kitchen for breakfast and was greeted by a stern look on his father's face.
"Good morning," his father said in a monotone voice as Christian sat across from him at the kitchen table.
"Is it really?" Christian sarcastically asked while pouring himself a bowl of sugary cereal.
His father just shook his head, then asked, "Where were you last night?"
Christian shrugged and took a spoonful of his breakfast before answering. "Out," he simply uttered.
His father put down the newspaper he was reading earlier and took off his glasses to rub his tired looking eyes. "Christian. We've already discussed the rules of this house. You are not to drink. You are not of legal age to do so. You're only seventeen, for goodness sakes."
Christian looked up from his bowl of cereal. "Look, I know you're getting all Ward Cleaver on me right now, but I really don't need it. I think I'm old enough to make my own decisions."
His father frowned, the same colored green eyes squinting a little. Christian felt a lecture coming about him coming home late and drinking, but to his surprise, his father remained silent. Instead, the aging Mr. Baxter just sighed and left the room.
"Whatever," Christian mumbled as he ate the last spoonful of the sugary cereal.
Before leaving the house, he swallowed two Tylenol pills to help the headache, then stepped out of the house just as it begun to rain. Christian decided to walk to school, instead of taking his beat up car. He liked the rain; lately it always matched the mood he was feeling. Christian walked slowly to what he considered to be a hellhole, not caring that he was going to be late for school.
At least I'm actually going to school, Christian argued to himself a he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up to cover his head.
* * * *
"Mom! I'm late!" Grace Moon yelled as she hurriedly ran down the stairs, and at the same time tried to fix her hair into a ponytail.
Her short, dark-haired mother looked up from the dining table as her daughter approached her. "What do you want me to do, dear?"
Grace shrugged and threw her hands up in the air, giving up on her hair. "You could've woken me up, mom!"
Her father, who was sitting silently next to her mother, suddenly chided in. "Grace," he started in his father tone, "it's not your mom's job to wake you up. If you had come home earlier, you wouldn't have had such a hard time waking up."
Grace turned around and started for the door, hoping her parents hadn't seen her rolled her eyes. She felt that it really wasn't her fault that the movie she was seeing with her boyfriend ran late.
"Take something with you for breakfast, dear!" her mother cried just as she was going out the door.
Grace groaned softly to herself before heading back to the dining table. She grabbed a banana and drank a cup of orange juice. Grace kissed her parents goodbye then, like usual, and ran out the door.
* * * *
Christian entered Stony Creek High soaking wet. He was drenched from head to toe and shivering as he walked the empty halls, leaving tiny puddles as a trail. His shoes squeaked with every step, dreading the daily morning encounter with Mr. Kullman, the tardy slip provider. He really disliked the old, balding man. And he had to deal with him practically every morning because it's everyday he's late.
Christian sucked in a breath before rounding the corner. He waited until the last possible second to contemplate whether or not to turn around right then and leave school. However, he forced his legs to walk towards to direction of Mr. Kullman and his strategically placed desk. He was sure the old man urged the principal for a desk, just to make himself feel a little more inferior to the average student. Christian was just glad that they didn't give in when he probably asked for an office. All the old man really had was a desk placed right in the middle of the hallway every morning to greet the tardy students. If Christian didn't dislike Mr. Kullman so much, he'd probably feel sorry for him.
What Christian saw before him made him stop walking dead in his tracks. Instead of seeing an old and balding man, Christian saw a dark-haired beauty sleeping in his seat. And it was no other than Stony Creek High's reigning princess. He approached her quietly.
"Behold, a sight to see," he announced loud enough to wake his former childhood friend up.
Grace Moon stirred slightly and slowly opened her eyes. She blinked a couple of times, getting used to the fluorescent lights before turning her head to look at him. With the confused look on her face as she looked at him, Christian had to admit to himself that he was a bit disappointed that it was taking her a long time to figure out who he was.
"Has it been that long already, Grace?" he asked as he bent down and examined her closely. "Did you forget who I am already?"
Grace shook her head and straightened up her posture in her seat. "I know who you are, Christian."
"Do you remember my last name?" he asked. Christian had a motive for asking. He smirked when he saw the look of horror on her face.
Christian allowed himself to reminisce on the day when the two were younger, possibly when they were in the fifth grade. The younger versions of them were playing on a seesaw when Grace asked, "Can I marry you?"
A confused fifth grade Christian, not totally turned off by her offer then asked, "Why?"
Grace gave him a toothy grin, one with a tooth missing. "Because I like your last name. And if I marry you, I get to have your last name."
"Ok," he answered.
Christian chuckled softly at the memory and the look Grace was still giving him.
"Yes, Christian Baxter" Grace hissed, as if she were afraid people were going to find out about what she asked him many years ago.
"Anyway," she continued, "I don't think Baxter's such a cool name anymore."
Christian pretended to be hurt. "Does that mean you want a divorce?"
Grace leaned back in her seat and pushed a lock of black hair behind her ear. "It's good to see you haven't changed, Chrissy. Still the same egotistic guy who thinks everything's always about him…"
Christian shook his head. "You forgot lovable. Still the same egotistic and lovable guy who thinks everything's always about him," he corrected her.
He added in a stern voice and a scowl on his face, "Don't call me Chrissy."
Grace smiled triumphantly. "I see I've struck a nerve."
"Moonface," he teased back, using an old nickname that she hated. He had thought of it because the shape of her face was round, like the moon. Christian liked the shape of her face, even when he was a fifth-grader, but he would never admit to it.
Grace's eyes turned to slits in anger. She opened her mouth to counter back, but their heated elementary-like verbal fight was interrupted by a monotone voice.
"Welcome, Mr. Baxter, Ms. Moon," Mr. Kullman greeted.
"Face," Christian added for him.
Mr. Kullman's graying eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"Moonface," he stated. Christian glanced back at Grace to see her reaction. She rewarded him with a death glare, but remained silent.
Mr. Kullman ignored what Christian had just said and waited until Grace gathered her things and got up from his chair. Grace then stood next to, but not close to Christian.
"Mr. Baxter. I see that this will become a daily visit from now on. It's been - what? Five days in a row that you've been tardy?"
Christian shrugged. "Well, I have grown fond of our time together, Mr. Kullman. You must know how keen I am of you," he said sarcastically.
Christian could see from the corner of his eye that Grace, despite herself, smiled.
However, it was not funny enough for Mr. Kullman who kept the same bored look on his face. With the comment from Christian, though, his face did show a look of disappointment as he handed him his tardy slip.
Mr. Kullman then turned his attention to Grace. "…And now you Ms. Moon."
Grace automatically stood up a little straighter and wiped her mouth clean of the smile. "Sir?"
Christian laughed out loud at her formality. He really couldn't believe how much of a brown noser Grace turned out to be. His loud bellow got him another evil glare from not only Grace, but also Mr. Kullman.
"I assume this will be the last and only time? You're the Winterball Princess, and you should set an example for your fellow classmates.You don't want to be like Mr. Baxter there," he said lazily as he handed Grace her tardy slip.
"No, of course not," Grace replied.
Mr. Kullman sighed, obviously bored. "Go on now, you two. Get to class."
Christian saluted to him. "Yes, sir," he said, mocking Grace.
The two walked down the silent hall together and once Mr. Kullman was out of sight, Grace slapped him hard on the arm.
"Jesus, Grace! I already have a fucking headache… was that slap really necessary?"
"First off, you really need to cut back on the swearing." She paused before continuing, "And secondly, Baxter, you look like shit."
"You should take your own advice, princess," Christian said as he rubbed his arm, showing his pain.
"That swear word was necessary to emphasize how you really look," she said sweetly.
Christian frowned. "Well, unlike some people, I don't give to high regard what others think of me."
Grace's smile dropped and she stared at him, surprised and her mouth agape. She then bit her lip to keep from saying anything else and turned around to walk away.
Great going, Baxter, he thought to himself. You haven't spoken to the girl in four years and the first conversation you have with her, you hurt her goddamn feelings.
He made a mental note then to kick himself later that day for being an asshole. Christian really didn't mean to actually hurt Grace, but his thoughtlessness always shined in the early morning.