Welcome to the Wonderful World of Love

Welcome to the Wonderful World of Love


The Queen Bee As In Tillary

before she tackled me, bringing us both down in a flurry of brown and red hair and scattered books and papers and lethal razor-sharp diamond-hard fingernails latched onto my right arm…

So, by now, considering the fact that you're still here, still reading this clichéd story of mine, you'll want to hear about the finer details of Rebecca Howards's attack. You clamor: What about Rebecca Howards's attack? What happens?

Let me tell you this: Rebecca Howards's attack?

It hurt.

A lot.

She was clawing at me and yanking on my hair and doing everything in her power to cause as much bodily harm as possible to me, and all I could do was struggle to keep her off long enough so she didn't permanently injure me. I felt a searing pain in my right arm the second before Rebecca was lifted off of me, kicking and screaming wildly. Randy heaved her clear of me and dropped her unceremoniously to the side. I blinked up at the sky, breathing heavily, shocked beyond belief. My arm stung like crazy and I looked down to inspect my injuries. Four long, vertical gashes presented their ugly sight to me. I bared my teeth and swore. Damn claws…

Randy swung to face Rebecca, his eyes flashing, his voice low and threatening. "We're over, Rebecca," he bit out. "I am officially dumping up with you."

Rebecca let out a hiss before turning on her heel and storming off, the crowd making way for her efficiently dramatic exit. The crowd began to disperse, whispering frantically in hushed tones. Randy stooped and helped me up, cursing colorfully at the sight of my wounds. "Fuck it," he growled. "I knew I shouldn't have broken up with her at school."

"You knew it; I just wish you'd acted on your knowledge," I drawled drolly, trying to make light of things.

Randy sighed in frustration and raked a hand through his dark hair, causing it to stand even more wildly on end. "How is it that I always manage screw up everything?" he demanded angrily of himself.

"I supposed you're simply blessed," I quipped. When Randy still didn't lighten up, I rolled my eyes and friendlily (friendlily—is that even a word?) slapped his arm—with my right hand, thus moving my right arm in a sharp and sudden motion and causing unbelievable pain.

Can we say stupid?

After I had effectively expressed my emotions by cursing impressively, I then slapped Randy's arm (again), this time with my left hand—whoo, I'm a genius—and delivered a little Holly Rubyl-style pep-talk. "C'mon, Ran, lighten up. None of this is your fault." I nudged him. "Ya hear?"

Randy exhaled and nodded once. "Yeah…I hear."

I grinned. "Good. Because, after we first stop by my place to bandage up this baby—" here I poked my tongue out at my wounds in a Holly-like childish gesture "—you're going to make it up to me by taking me out to lunch. Ya hear?"

This time, Randy returned my smile. "Yeah, I hear."

"Good," I declared empathetically. Then, in a softer voice, I assured him, "Everything will be fine, Randy. I promise."

But even as the words were voiced, I caught sight of none other than the peroxide-blonde Tillary Julie Johnson—and let me tell you, she didn't look happy. There was wrath in her ice-blue eyes and an ugly sneer curled her lip. Her gaze was fixed on me and Randy (or Randy and I, for all you grammar perfectionists out there) and the expression on her face was one of jealousy, contempt—and dangerous determination.

It was then that I realized that on the path to heaven…there is hell.

Oh, come on, that was INSANELY dramatic.

Aaand I just ruined it, didn't I? Damn it. Why do I talk?

You know what? Don't answer that question.

Seriously, don't.


"Hey-la, what's up?" I chirped, joining Lena at our pre-chosen booth at the Lulu Café.

"You tell me," Lena replied, giving me an expectant look.

I blinked. "Erm…tell you what?"

Lena rolled her eyes. "Don't you 'tell you what?' me. You know what."

I sighed. "I told you already, Randy broke up with Rebecca Howards and she basically went physco bitch on me."

"Yeah, so what happened after Rebecca Howards went physco bitch on you?"

"I told you that already too. Randy pulled her off and shooed her away and we all left."

"So that's it?" Lena asked skeptically.

"That's it," I confirmed.

"Randy broke up with Rebecca H., she went physco on you, Randy pulled her off and told her to get lost, and you left. That's all that happened."

"Just about."

"Ah-ha!" Lena exclaimed triumphantly. "Key words: 'just about'."

"Well, of course they're the key words, they're the only words," I pointed out.

"Oh, shush, you know what I mean," Lena retorted snappily. "You know 'just about' means that my little summary didn't cover everything that actually happened."

I raised my eyebrows. "So…?"

"So, spill!" Lena demanded impatiently.

"Fine," I huffed. "When I 'arrived at the scene', Randy had already broken up with Rebecca Howards. She was raging away at him, and then she saw me." I lowered my voice slightly. "Since she saw us kissing at the Cineplex, she thought that Randy was breaking up with her to be with me. So, she went physco on me." I gestured towards my bandaged-up right arm.

"Go on…"

"Luckily, Randy pulled her off before she could injure me for life and, like you said, told her to get lost. So she did."

"Go on…"

"I am! Then Randy was blaming himself for everything that happened and I was telling him not to be a dumbass when…well, I saw the Queen Bee."

Lena's eyebrows shot up (both hers and mine seemed to be doing that a lot lately). "Tillary?"

"No, some other bitchy peroxide-blonde," I shot back. "Of course, Tillary."

"What about her?"

"I'm getting to that! Patience, woman! So, I saw Tillary, and, well, she had heard Rebecca screaming how it was because of me that Randy was breaking up with her and how she had seen us kissing at the Cineplex, and, well…Tillary was furious. She was practically seething. And the look on her face…" I shuddered. "Pure evil."

"Ouch," Lena winced. "So you think she's plotting something?"

My expression darkened. "If I know Tillary—and believe me, I do—she's always plotting something."


Wow. Seems like I'm getting worse, in frequency of updates, length of chapters, and quality of story.

I know. I hate me too.

Oh well. This was written a while ago, before I started Ever After.

So sorry. Please review.