Hello there :D So I've finally started a new story on here... It's been a really long time, but I missed writing original stuff.
This one's sort of a cliche, but I only write them because I like them. Hopefully some of you guys like them, too.
I actually intend to finish this one. I really hope I have the attention span to do so. I've already got a few chapters written, but I still have to edit them and stuff. So anyway, here goes. Enjoy.
I twisted the keys in the ignition, but nothing happened except for a quick rear of the engine and a few pathetic sputtering noises.
"Aw, c'mon... Not today..." I muttered.
I tried once more, but the car did the exact same thing. I let my head fall forward onto the steering wheel. Then, after continuously smacking my forehead against the horn a few times, I sighed and pulled my keys out of the ignition. I tossed them into my bag before getting out of my old maroon Taurus station wagon.
My dog, Blizzard, came bolting out of my little brother's room, expecting a stranger at the door that he could jump on. His barking stopped, however, when he figured out that it was just me again. Blizzard wagged his tail as a greeting and went back into the bedroom.
"Car won't start up again..." I yelled, pushing the front door closed behind me with my foot. My mother hopped past the hallway, attempting to put on one of her black high-heeled shoes without losing her balance.
"Darn it. Again? How about you ask your brother for a ride?" she suggested from her bedroom.
"He already left. Got a lift from one of his friends on the basketball team," I replied.
Leave it up to my brother to make friends on the fourth day we move to a new town. We hadn't even started school yet, but Jaime had managed to meet some new people at the pre-season practices for anyone who was interested in getting a spot on the team.
That's just the way Jaime was. He was one of those people who was instantly accepted into a new high school. He could make friends no matter what the circumstances; I was the exact opposite. And not just in that area, either. We were about as different as twins could get.
"I wish I could drive you, sweetie, but I've gotta be at work in..." My mother, having put on one shoe and working on the other, hopped back into the kitchen and glanced at the clock. "Ten minutes."
"Huh. Guess I can't go, then. Really is a shame..." I muttered, taking my book bag off of my shoulder. I slid it across the tile floor so it hit the back of the couch. Then, taking a running start, I hopped over the backrest and landed comfortably on the cushions. Before I could reach for the remote control, however, my mother grabbed it off the coffee table.
"Not so fast, Andrea. I told you. You're starting school the same day as everyone else around here."
I sighed and slumped further into the couch. "But we just moved here, mom! Can't we take a few days just to get settled?" I whined. "Possibly a month or two?"
"You'll stick out even more if you start later than everyone else... You'd be better off if you would just face the music and go, Andrea."
"I'd love to face the music, Mom. But I can't. For two reasons. One, my entire CD collection is still packed away in a cardboard box somewhere,"
"Don't be fresh."
"And two, I have absolutely no means of getting to school."
My mom seemed to be stumped on that one. She stood with her weight on one leg more than the other, thoughtfully tapping her finger against her chin.
I tried to stealthily snatch the remote out of her other hand, but she quickly pulled it out of my reach. "I've got an idea," she stated.
My mother disappeared into the kitchen, but I could still hear the clicking of her heels on the tiles.
I strained my ears and was able to make out pages ruffling and then a short pause before my mom started to dial a number on the telephone. It had been one of the only things, along with the TV, that we had bothered to hook up in the past few days.
She came back into the room, holding the cordless phone between her cheek and shoulder while she smoothed out the ruffles on her black skirt.
"Yes, Eileen?" my mother spoke into the phone in a cheery voice. (Sometimes it frightened me how cheery she could be.) "Hi, it's Grace Crowley. From next door."
I immediately sat up straight and began to silently flail my arms, all the while shaking my head as violently as I could from side to side. My mom rolled her eyes and waved me away, turning her back to me.
"Oh, no. We're doing fine; It's just that we're having a bit of car trouble this morning, and I was just wondering that if your son hasn't left yet..."
There was a short pause on my side of the phone conversation as I waited in anticipation. No, no, no, no, please say he left already...
"He wouldn't mind? Wonderful! Thank you so much, Eileen!"
I began to continuously smack my head against the backrest of the couch. Between this and the steering wheel, it was a miracle I didn't end up with a mean bruise on my forehead.
"Of course. I'll see you at the barbeque on Saturday. Thanks again," my mom said, pressing the end button on the phone.
"Get a move on, Andrea. Eileen said he was just about to pull out of the drivewa-" a car horn from the street outside interrupted her sentence. My mother plopped my bag onto my lap and ushered me towards me door. "Hurry it up; he's here."
"Thanks, mom," I replied sarcastically, referring both to the phone call she had just made and the fact that I could hear the car horn without her help.
I was dragging my feet so much that she practically had to slide me across the floor. "Do I have to do this? How about you just write me a late note and I'll walk?"
"Three miles, Andrea? I don't see why you have such a problem with him. He's a nice boy."
"To you, yeah! Last time I checked, you weren't the one covered in ice-cream cake at the end of the Hanson's "welcoming dinner" for us... If you could even call it that at all," I muttered.
"Andrea! Don't be rude; it was a nice gesture. And I'm sure the cake incident wasn't on purpose," she said, nudging me out the door. "Now. Have a good day, and please, Andy... Be nice, would you? Please?"
I readjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder and mumbled something incoherent. Apparently my mom decided to translate it as "Yes, mother," because she replied with a "Good girl," and closed the door behind me.
I plodded to the silver car that was pulled over to the side of the road, waiting for me. I pulled on the car handle, only to find that it was locked.
He pressed a button near the steering wheel that unlocked all the doors in the car, but before I could pull on the handle again, I heard a click that meant he had locked it a second time. This happened a few more times before I started to get frustrated.
"Ugh! Brady! Quit it!" I yelled. He started to laugh, amused by my anger, and finally left the doors unlocked long enough so I could get in.
"You're so immature," I muttered, tossing my book bag into the space between the two seats. I wanted to sit as far away from this pain in the ass as I could, so I leaned with my elbow on the window and stared out onto the street.
"Aw, you're just no fun, Andrea," he teased, starting up the car.
"Stop calling me that, would you? It's Andy, alright?"
"Fine, fine," Brady muttered. "Well, Andy, I'm happy to see you got all of the ice-cream out of your hair. Terribly sorry about that, by the way." I stole a glance at him and saw that he was grinning broadly.
"No, you're not. You threw it at me."
His grin grew wider. "That's not true. I just tripped," he said, shrugging innocently.
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to the houses rolling by outside the window. Of all the places we could've moved to, I just had to end up living next to Brady Hanson.
See, my parents split up a while back, but they hadn't really taken care of all the legal stuff until now. Once they did, however, it was decided that my dad would get our old house in our old town and my mom would get us; the Crowley kids.
First there was me and Jaime; Fraternal twins in our junior year of high school. Our little brother, who was nine years old and spoiled as hell, was named Danny. Don't get me wrong. He could be a perfect angel when he wanted to be. But when he didn't want to be... That was another story. And to top off the family, my dog Blizzard was dragged along to the new house (against my mom's wishes), just because I couldn't bear to leave him behind.
My mom was able to find a job that paid well enough so that, along with child support, she could take care of her three kids. Unfortunately, the job was here. Since we would have to move anyway, she decided it would be best if we picked up and moved as close to her new job as possible. And "as close to her new job as possible" just so happened to be next to the Hanson family.
At first, I actually considered myself kind of lucky. Sure, I had to leave my friends and my house and my school behind... But one look at Brady told me that he was sort of cute, what with his dark hair and startling green eyes.
However, when you take a second glance at a guy through streams of melting ice-cream cake that are dripping down your forehead (especially when he was the one to have put it there), you tend to change your opinion. My second glance at Brady Hanson told me that he was the spawn of Satan.
It wasn't just the ice-cream cake incident, either. This boy had taken every single opportunity he could find in the past four days to make my life a living hell. Today was no exception.
"What's with the opera?" I asked, staring at the buttons on the car radio. Brady had been scanning through the channels, seemingly looking for the worst possible music ever. "You a fan of opera or something?"
"Nope," he stated, keeping his eyes on the road. "You?"
I raised an eyebrow. "No... I hate it."
"Then that's what's with the opera." Brady smirked.
My hand balled up into a fist and I had an overpowering urge to punch him directly in the face. The only thought that made me decide against it was the fact that he was the one driving the car.
After what seemed like an eternity, we finally pulled into the school parking lot. I had grabbed my bag and was already out of the car before it had completely come to a full stop.
"Where ya going in such a hurry, Andy? I can show you around the school, if you want," Brady said, attempting to sound innocent. He ran to catch up with me, but I doubled my speed.
"Right. 'Your first class is Math 11R? Yeah, that's in the janitors' closet...'" I shot back sarcastically.
Brady laughed, but before he had time to reply, one of his friends called his name. He twisted around to see who it was and I took off in the opposite direction while his back was turned.
I know there isn't much characterization for Andy yet, but you'll find out more about her in the next few chapters. As for Brady, I'd love to hear your opinions on him... I'm still debating whether I made him too much of an ass.
Thanks so much for reading, and feedback would be really great, so please review if you can. I'll have a new chapter out pretty soon.