Hey, everyone!!! This is my first story here on FictionPress. I am particularly proud of this story, it is a random idea that came to me one day that has so far turned into five LONG chapters and an emense storeroom of plot keys. Please read, and I hope you enjoy. Reviews are never a bad thing!!!
By: Tears of My Heart
If it weren't for that goddamn Mickey Mouse, my life would have been just fucking great.
You'll see what I mean. Its nothing complicated, just an ironic twist of fate that I could never have foreseen. Nor do I really know how to handle it, quite frankly. Wait, and soon you'll see me, Connelly High's bad ass black-wearing chick from hell, crying her eyes out into her pillow.
Let me start by saying that my name is Temperance Conners, but my friend calls me Temper. Yes, friend, used in the singular tense. It's sad, I know, but Cole Harris is a one-of-a-kind chum. No one could have asked for a better friend, especially since he takes all my abuse. It was sometimes hard to believe that we had been friends since we were ten.
When school started that day, the sky was cloudy and the impending rain was making the soccer team and cheer squad antsy, but for completely different reasons. The Connelly Cougars were facing their arch rivals, the Pendleton Panthers, in a shot for the playoffs. How very cliché. And how do I know this, you ask? Why do I even fucking care? Well, that would be because good-old Cole, my dearest friend, was on the soccer team.
Now, the cheerleaders were a different story. They were worried about their hair. The collective team probably shared a brain cell between them, and they all had a streak of bitchiness that made them feared among the student body. Except by me. I got my kicks and giggles from egging them on and shooting them down. Ah, the sweet joys of life.
Now, as I said before, the day started out overcast and gorgeous as far as I was concerned. For a Friday, the mood in the school was tense, which was common on a Monday; however, it was a rare occurrence on a Friday. Especially since we graduate in a week. Geez, I was so freaking happy that I briefly thought about being nice to the cheerleaders. It was a brief thought, however.
Walking through the halls, I glared at anyone that dared look my way, giving off the distinct impression that I didn't want to deal with any of their shit. And, of course, I didn't.
After a brief, yet stimulating, argument with my locker, in which the locker won, I made my way to my first class. Advanced algebra. Such joy.
Slumping down in my usual back corner desk, I let my black, patch covered messenger bag fall onto the floor, all the while managing to sigh in a fashion that declared my utter boredom.
"So," I said, looking toward the occupied seat to my left. "Anything new happen between ten p.m. last night and now?"
Cole looked at me as though I had sprouted a second head. "You're kidding, right?"
"Tense, aren't we?" I asked, watching the display of emotion on his face.
"This is the most important game of my career," he said, swiping the black tresses off of his forehead. He puffed out his cheeks and sighed. "We have to win this game."
"Do you listen to yourself when you talk?" I said, laughing. "Its soccer. Wars are not going to be fought based on the outcome of Connelly vs. Pendleton."
Again he sighed, knowing the routine of this argument by now. "Okay, are you gonna be there tonight?"
I smiled. "You bet."
Soon after, their teacher came in and demanded silence. Yeah, like that was going to happen.
Cole leaned my way. "So, what movie did you rent?"
"Day of the Dead," I replied. He groaned, pounding his head back against the wall. It happened to be my favorite movie, and I rented it once a month and tortured him with it.
"Why don't you just buy the goddamn movie? It'd be cheaper."
"Where's the fun in that?"
Groaning again, he laid his head down on his desk. I was practically giggling with glee at the sight, because I loved nothing more than to watch my best friend suffer.
"Why, hello, Cole," a sultry, sickeningly sweet voice drifted our way. Now it was my turn to groan.
Susan Greer was the top of the food chain as far as the masses were concerned at Connelly High. She had perfect hair, skin, clothes, makeup, grades, and blah blah blah. It was perfectly nauseating. Did I mention she was my cousin? No? Well, she is, and we are constantly at each others throats. You see, I'm the family screw up. The classical black sheep. Now, Susan was the golden child. Her mother is my father's sister, and she just loved to rub it in my Mom's face that she had the most wonderful daughter in the whole world, while my Mom had me. Ugh.
And she had her greedy little sights set on Cole.
"Susan," he said in acknowledgement. Nodding, she glanced at me and sneered. Our relationship was no secret; however, she preferred that it not be brought up. Who was I to argue with that?
"So, do you want to go somewhere after the game tonight?" she whispered suggestively. Now, she isn't a cheerleader, because, well, that's just too much work for her to do, but she goes to all the games. I'm not stupid. I know she's been after Cole for a while, but you have to respect the guy, so far he's dodged every one of her advances successfully.
"Actually," he started. "Temper and I have plans later."
The sound she made in response could be described as a growl with attitude, but coming from Susan, it was annoyance laced with upcoming revenge.
"Yeah, bye-bye," I smirked and waved cheerfully when she stormed off.
Cole rolled his eyes, turned to me, and rolled his eyes again. "How are you two related?"
"I'm convinced that one of the two of us is alien spawn. I'm just not sure which one yet."
"Have I ever told you that you are pure evil?"
"Hey, I am not as evil as Susan!" I said indignantly.
"No, she is condensed evil, there is a difference," Cole said, pointing at me. His black t-shirt stretched over is chest, and I could definitely see why Susan wanted him so badly. He was definitely hot. No joke. All the girls were after him.
All except one. You see, I'm not the sweet little girl that all mother's dream of. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm the type of girl that if mothers knew their daughters would turn out to be, they would start mourning the second the baby was born.
My hair was long, and dyed black with purple streaks. Hell yeah. My usual outfit looked something along the lines of too-big jeans held up by a studded belt, and a band t-shirt. Not to say that other variations weren't allowed. Sometimes I would wear a smart-ass shirt with witty words scrolled over the chest. My shoes were either Chuck Taylor's or flip-flops, never heals or anything cutesy. Never.
It was a curse. My love for Hot Topic and a clear-cut disdain for American Eagle and shit like that had me singled out as a loner in our small school. And, I suppose, my outspoken attitude and my foul mouth didn't help, either.
I glared menacingly at the teacher as she began her lecture. It was so fucking pointless. School was over in a week, did we really have to deal with this?
By the time lunch rolled around, I was just ready to die. For some reason, teachers felt that at this point in the year, it was okay to step up the game with more homework. Why not, right? School was going to be over soon, so let's finish the year out strong. Whatever. Assholes.
Slamming my bag down in the lunchroom table, I looked around for Cole. He was not going to believe how much fucking homework I had just gotten in the last three periods. Unfortunately, he wasn't in all of my classes, but he was gonna be there with me for the last two. I sighed. If only school wasn't so structured. Then I could just whiz through life unnoticed. Ah, and what a sweet life that would be.
When my friend sat next to me at the table, he looked just as frazzled. His hair had the distinct look of being pulled at, and I knew that one of his bad habits is that when he's stressed he pulls at his hair. And bites his nails. And he snaps at everyone. He's not very good at handling stress.
"Homework?" I asked, shoving a plastic-wrapped ham sandwich his way. My mom knows I hate ham. Yet she throws a sandwich into my lunch bag every morning, declaring that my bag of Twinkies and Coca-cola weren't healthy for a growing mind.
"The game," he said, digging into the sandwich with relish. "It's messing with my brain, trying to fuck me up."
"Don't stress, dude. You'll always be the school's golden boy soccer star, and this game won't change that. Just do what you normally do."
"Yeah, but I want to finish out my senior year with a bang, you know. No way in hell am I playing in college. Playing soccer and trying to study will screw up any chances I have of getting into law school."
"I still think you should study psychology," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Only because you want free therapy."
"I think that's a sound motivation for wanting your best friend to pick a certain profession," I said, smiling my brightest at him.
"Yeah," was all he said as he finished the sandwich. Swiping his hands against each other, he glanced at my brown bag and the can of coke in front of me. "Got anything else?"
"No," I said, snorting. "You know my mom hates my diet of sugary cereal, pop, and candy bars. I think she's jealous, personally."
"You wish. That middle of yours is starting to expand."
"It is not!" I practically screamed at him. I threw my now-empty pop can, hitting him squarely on the shoulder.
He only glared at me, as though that pop can was going to injure him enough that the game would be ruined. What a wimp.
I heard the distinct and disgusting sound of giggling behind me, and I grimaced. The cheerleaders had just found their way into the cafeteria. Ugh.
Leaning back in my chair, I rolled my eyes and glanced at Cole.
"Oh my god!" I hissed at him. "You are ogling them."
"What?" he said, as though he had just come out of a stupor. "Uh, no."
"Uh, yeah. I saw you with my own two eyes."
"I've been telling you for years, Temper, that you need glasses." Bending forward, he rested his forehead against his arms and pretended to sleep. I left him alone as I leaned my head back and stared at the tall ceiling. A few minutes later, I spoke up.
"I have two papers, three homework assignments, and six chances for extra credit due by next Friday," I finally said as I flung my bag over my shoulder so that we could continue to our other classes.
"So far I only have that one assignment in math," he said, his lean face pulling into an arrogant smirk.
"That's because you're the shit-for-brains who took blow off classes this year. You know, some of us actually have neurons in our heads." I really didn't mean to snap at him, but he's such a good scapegoat for all of my problems.
He only walked on, used to my harsh mouth. Sighing, I followed him into the classroom, and awaited the rest of this god-awful boring day.
The crowd cheered as our team scored another goal. I screamed with them, because, big surprise, Cole was the player who had scored. It was also scored just before time out, but unfortunately, our team did end up losing. Damn.
Jumping up from my spot on the home team bleachers, I quickly checked my back pocket to make sure that I had my wallet and keys, and then I was off. The team was, no doubt, in the locker room by now getting battered by their coach, and of course I had to be there to pick up the broken pieces that used to be Cole. I knew he was going to have a hard time of it tonight, so I fervently vowed to be extra-super nice.
I waited outside of the men's locker room, but I could hear the distinct sound of shouting. Coach Matters could be such a pain in the ass sometimes. He always threw all of his weight at the team, and he made this game into a life-or-death situation for them.
Leaning my head back on the wall behind me, I waited patiently until the door opened, and a dirt and sweat covered Cole pocked his head out.
"Hey," he said, sounding dejected.
"Hey. Coach is going kinda hard on you, huh?"
"Yeah, but don't worry about it," he said, trying his best to sound nonchalant.
"Dude, go take a shower, and I'll meet you at my house, okay?" Pushing forward from the wall, I smiled out him. "No way am I gonna deal with your stink for the rest of the night."
He laughed, smiling for the first time, and went back into the locker room. I took off, walking through the halls of the school until I got to the parking lot. Taking a quick look around I noticed that there were only about a dozen cars left and I recognized the beat up Honda on the right as mine.
Walking over, I reached my hand into my pocket for my keys.
"Fuck!" I bit out, checking all of my other pockets, but to no avail. They must have fallen out.
Okay, so I decided to retrace my steps. For once, the logical side of my brain kicked in. Walking back into the school, I stared at the ground as I went by, hoping to see those keys attached to a Goth Mickey Mouse keychain.
My ears detected the near-by sound of thunder, and soon after I heard rain as it pelted the roof and outside street. Sighing, I dreaded having to drive home in the storm. That is if I ever find my goddamn keys.
Running my hand through my hair, I sighed roughly as I looked from all ends of the hallway to see there was anything. Before I knew it, I was back at the locker rooms. I could hear the voices of the boys on the team, but I wasn't worried about them. Cole was in there, and even if they started trouble, I could take care of myself.
"So she glares at me, right," I heard from inside the door. Intrigued, I stand still for a moment, straining my ears to hear. The light from under the door was ominous in the dark school, which had a completely different feel to it at night. I stood by the bleachers on the inside of the gymnasium, and the sound of the team bustling about was loud and clear in the large, echoing room.
"And I sit quietly, hoping the bitch will shut up for once. It's so fucking annoying."
Frowning, I begin to wonder who they are talking about.
"Christ, dude, I don't even know how you deal with it all the time. You must have some serious acting skills, I'm telling you. Or is she the one with skills?" I could hear the smirk in this new voice, and the crude, underlying innuendo that he held.
"I see what you're saying, Grady," a third voice chimed in. "She must be a hot fuck if you're still hanging out with her."
"Please, do you think anyone would want her?" the original voice said. It nagged at my mind, and I started to become agitated. "Come on, the only reason I'm her friend is because I feel bad for her. She's been an outcast since middle school."
My breath hitched in my throat. No . . . .
Yet my fears were confirmed when they door slowly opened, and a leading figure turned back to his friends and fellow team mates.
"You guys don't even know how much I hate Temper," he said, laughing. The sound of metal scraping reached my ears.
Cole stopped and looked down. Bending, he soon straightened, holding up a set of keys with a certain cartoon mouse on them.
"Shit," he whispered.
He turned so fast that I thought he was going to trip on his own feet. And he had the good graces to look embarrassed. His eyes widened marginally while Grady and the others snickered and nudged each other with their elbows.
"He's in for it now," one of them whispered, reducing some of them to mean-hearted giggles.
Gaining my balance, and putting on a straight, brave face, I marched up to him. Slowly, though. With as much grace as I could pull together, I looked him right in the eye.
"I'm going to need these," I whispered, snatching the keys from his hand.
Then I walked away. Step by step I made my way toward the exit of the gym, and I even swayed my hips a little, as though to prove to him that his words, his mean painful words, had no effect on me.
Yet they had. Inside, I was torn apart. The only world I had ever known was shattering, and I was powerless to stop it.
As soon as they gym doors closed behind me, I ran. My feet hit the floor so hard I thought I would trip, that my Converse shoes would not be enough to get me to my car. Once out the school doors, I knew it was raining hard, I could even feel the wet and the cold as it soaked through my clothes, but I didn't acknowledge it as I found my car and ran toward it like a lifeline. The rain mingled with the few tears that I allowed to fall, but the rest I held in bitter check, because I would be damned if I would let him see me cry. My hands were shaking so badly that I couldn't get the key into the slot. I fumbled and scratched the paint on my door more than once before I finally slid the key home and turned.
When I was inside of my car, I turned it on and was filled with the music of My Chemical Romance, and I listened to the sad songs as I drove through the pounding rain. The display read that it was only eight twenty-four p.m., and I regretfully and instinctively knew that my Mom and Dad would be up watching a movie in the living room when I got home.
And they were. When I walked into my house a few minutes later, the blue glow of the television greeted me, and I was also thankful for the surrounding darkness. Maybe then they wouldn't see the tears that threatened at the seam of my eyes.
"Hi, honey," my Dad called over his shoulder as he continued with the drama that Mom was making him watch.
"How was the game, dear?" my Mom asked. It was tradition. She would always ask a million questions about the day before she left me alone, but it's her god-given right as a mother.
"Ah, I'll bet Cole is disappointed. He always works so hard at these things. What movie are you two watching tonight?"
"Actually, Mom, he doesn't feel too good, so he's decided to head on home."
"Oh," she said, the tone of her voice mild. "But that's never stopped him before."
"Well, it's something bad that's going around school. He's vomiting and he has diarrhea, so, uh, he didn't want to be here, for um, obvious reasons."
"Okay, dear," she said, but I could tell from the sound of her voice that she was suspicious. "There's food in the fridge if you want anything."
"No, actually, I'm really tired. I think I'm just going to go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
Without even saying 'goodnight' to my parents, I ran up the stairs and locked my room door. I walked in a daze to my dresser and changed into my black pajamas, and I crawled under the covers of my bed.
And this is where I am now, crying softly into my pillow, the tears that rolled down into the soft fabric. I didn't know how I was going to get through the rest of this week with him at every turn, but I was going to have to. At least, after this week, I would be rid of Cole Harris for good.
Okay, so that's chapter one!!! Tell me what you think, especially if I'm going to keep this story going. Alright, until next time . . . .
Tears of My Heart.