Do you mind?
Chapter 1: Tripping over the coke can
● ○ ● ○ ● ○ ● ○ ●
Oh, I hear the wedding bells,
Do death do they part they will never have to say farewell.
For that dear God I say amen,
My feet will not walk barefoot on this stupid beach again.
I am stuck on a stupid beach, my feet are itching and it's really hot – it doesn't help that I am wearing this big goofy hoop dress. Ok, I guess hoops aren't that bad, in looks anyway. But I feel ridiculous, standing here and trying to smile so badly I swear my lips are going to crack, in a poofy dress that makes me feel like a Disney Princess.
Sure, Disney Princesses are pretty, kind, loyal and are perfect in all the right ways. But seriously, who were they kidding with these stupid dresses? I couldn't see my feet in this dress unless I bent over and then I'm afraid someone will look up my dress. It also makes it hard for me to itch my feet, not that I would anyway. Loralee would stomp me one, and while she was at it would be going 'Ladies do not scratch their feet!'
But I really, really needed to scratch my feet, or atleast check to see if any kinds of sea morsel have attached themselves to them. I mean, God forbid a crab had attached itself to me and is currently cutting of the circulation of my toes.
I didn't want anything to do with this in the first place but you try saying no to relatives! No matter how many times you practice saying 'no' to them, just one look in those puppy dog eyes and you're gone and you can't stop the words "Oh sure, I'd love to! I'm so honoured!" coming out from your mouth. Well, I couldn't believe I had actually said it at first and then it just registered and my brains like noooo.
My sister tried to warn me, she was all "Elise, don't. You don't know what you're getting yourself into; do you remember that stupid dress I had to wear to Aunt Helen's wedding when I had to be flower girl? The big poofy pink dress that made me look like Princess Peach? Bridesmaid's dresses are just like that, only ten times worse. And the fitting part is even worse; everyone is tugging at your mid section!"
I was only the stupid bridesmaid because Janice – my sister – had flat out refused to have any part of the wedding, whether it be catering or any other kind of position. She didn't even want to take the MC job, and I would have so taken that instead of being the stupid bridesmaid with the big poofy dress which was a hideous shade of green – that reminded me of one morning when I was a kid and I had puked all over the table.
My Dad told me to eat my breakfast and I did warn him that I would puke if I shoved one more mouthful in but he just gave me a daring look. He wasn't happy when his favourite suit got slimed.
"Elise." My name was hissed somewhere among the crowd and my eyes darted along until falling upon Henry Jennings who was sending me a wave. Crap. How the hell did he turn up at this stupid wedding? I swear, that guy turns up everywhere I go. And I know if I don't show that I notice him in some small way he will make a scene.
I smiled politely in his direction and then went back to gazing blankly at the groom and bride who were giving each other doe eyes; did you know weddings are really boring? I mean, it's only the after party is fun and usually I like getting dressed up – but not like this. But I don't even get to go to the after party; I have to get dropped off at my new school for transition day.
Transition day is when you get to go to the school in which you are going to be enrolled (like, next month or something for me) and check it out, make sure you don't want to go to another school. And the kinds of people who run this school hate tardiness. I swear, this one girl ran out crying saying 'But my Grandma was sick!' but they paid no heed to it, no heed at all.
This happened when I went to hand in my application, and no, you can't send these stupid applications. You have to hand them in, in person. Which is kind of annoying where the place you want to go is an hour away, I know it's only high school right? But I want to get into a really good university – or well, my grandma and mum do – so I best be prepared for the craploads of work I'm going to get.
"You may kiss the bride," the dude (what are those bible reader people at weddings called??) said and Jackson – my cousin's newly wedded husband – swept her up into his arms and kissed that girl in a way you could tell would melt a girl's heart. I should know, I mean, I have the perfect boyfriend.
My boyfriend is Prince Charming, seriously. He has gorgeous wavy golden hair, a lithe toned body and eyes the colour of a cloudless sky. The only thing he's missing is the castle and the whole horse and carriage deal. But I'm working on it, ok? He has a red two person bike if that counts for anything.
I'd totally prefer he get a motorbike though, I mean, motorbikes may be no horse and carriage but they sure are wicked. But he told me his Mum thinks they are too dangerous, and even though he said his Mum wouldn't stop him if he really wanted one – he said he wouldn't get one anyway. Because he thinks they're too dangerous also. Whatever.
'Would the Bridal party please stand for photos?'
Oh dear God, must I be blinded again? Wasn't it enough while they were taking their vows and when we were walking down the aisle – oh, and this morning when they took them while I was brushing my teeth?
Loralee send me a withering glance and ushered me over impatiently, which I obeyed of course. Need I remind you of the whole feet stompage? I thought not.
So I went over there smiling and pretending like I wanted to be photographed and/or blinded. The people in front of me seemed convinced, they didn't let on if they did know anyway.
"Loralee," I whispered but she was too busy laughing really hard at a really lame joke. She was trying to cover up that, in fact, the joke was incredibly lame. It wasn't working; it was just making her look like a hyena in her pictures. And really, who wants to look like a hyena in their wedding pictures? You think it's bad when you get a bad school photo but when you get a bad wedding picture some relative puts it up on a website.
Also, if you are videotaped doing what Loralee is doing now – aka, laughing like a mad woman – you get it sent into funniest home video shows, and will never live it down for the rest of your life. Anyway, this is why I'm trying really hard not to scowl and look at my watch; otherwise future generations will be like "Why does great great – lots of greats – Aunt Elise look like someone shoved a dirty sock in her mouth?"
And I would have to put up with it for the rest of my life whenever my family gets together for Christmas or something. Which is not good, trust me.
"Loralee," I hissed, trying again but no, she was still laughing like a complete and utter dickhead.
To shame Loralee Jane, to shame.
I felt like kicking the girl, really I did. But I am trying to find non-violent and non-humiliating solutions to my problems lately; I am really trying to turn a new leaf. Oh ,and the fact that if Loralee somehow got murdered one day the future generations will all look at the picture of me kicking her in the shins and go all that's the one. Not saying anyone would want to kill my cousin, but the reality is: they totally would.
My cousin is babealicious, seriously when I caught sight of her in that wedding gown I was all va-va-voom! I mean, if Rove asked me who I'd turn gay for it would totally be her. If, you know, I was remotely attracted to girls in that way and was into incest. Which I'm not, by the way, though in some state in America I think it's legal to marry your cousins.
Anyway, not like you wanted to know all that, but hey, that's a bit more interesting then the boring history they teach at school isn't it? I think it is.
"Loralee," I hissed again and this time she snapped her head around in the middle of her laughing fit and with a fake sweet smile gave me a questioning look "I have to go to school, it's transition day."
She mouthed whatever and gave me a look that totally said without the words needed to say it that she didn't even care if I was there. It was the kind of look that said I-don't-care-how-many-hours-you-spent-getting-your-chest-tugged-at-in-the-expense-of-finding-the-perfectly-fitted-dress or I-made-you-buy-a-stupid-dress-you-will-never-wear-again-just-to-torture-you.
Another reason why I – I mean, someone would want to kill my cousin. I'm pretty sure her best friend Terri wants to kill her too, because that's the guy that Terri called dibs on at the mall – not Loralee. Supposedly Terri doesn't care, like I didn't see those shredded napkins on the table after my cousin told her. Please, I may be ignorant at times but I'm not blind.
Walking off I went to go find Mum so she could give me a ride and that's when Loralee caught my hand and gave it a squeeze "I'm sorry, I appreciate your help. I really do. It's just I'm busy and blind right now, you know?"
Did I ever, she wasn't the only one. If I didn't get going soon, I'd be private boarding school principal kibble.
"Oh, and Elise honey?" she said and I turned my head inquiringly "Have you gained a couple of pounds? Your panty lines are showing."
What? I have not gained a couple of pounds, what is she talking about?
I looked down at my butt.
What is she talking about?! They are so not showing, you could not even see-
Oh God, she did that on purpose, I know she did that on purpose because:
a) She is walking off laughing.
b) She was smiling when she said it.
Why did I not see the warning signs? Why? It was plain obvious what she was going for, that smile was evil. And I fell for it. So now I'm just going to have this photo of me staring at my ass in the wedding pictures, which is just great. Really, it's what I have always wanted, even better then getting caught kicking her or scowling.
But now, I don't have time to name names, I have to get to school. Or else, like I said, I am kibble. The kind of kibble the dog – like mine – refuses to eat, because it is so nasty not even the dog wants it so they just chuck it in the bin and get a new brand – or just take to giving the dog leftovers. What has become of me? I am now lower then leftovers for Christ's sake!
And I am still staring at my ass, albeit blankly. But I have now given a fair opportunity for everyone including my mother and – God forbid – my boyfriend to catch a picture of. Brilliant.
I am so out of here.
"Mum, I need to go! Now!"
"Ok honey, you have a nice angry face? Do you know that?" she said cheerily "You should get mad more often sweetheart, you'd have all the boys after you – no offence, Louis darling."
And of course it's my boyfriend she comforts after such a comment, was I really born from such a lady?
"So," The Principal said, leaning his head on a hand "You got in on a scholarship?"
I stared at him blankly.
"Sir," I said flatly "The sheet in front of you? Did you read it?"
"Hmm," he said, tapping his chin in thought before brightening "Yes, yes I did. Miss Elise Gardener I presume?"
"Yes sir," I said, bored "That is indeed my name."
He clasped his hands together and grinned at me "Ah, so you are the scholar student then?"
I can't believe it; did he really read that sheet? Looking at him piteously I said with a nod "Yes sir, that would be correct."
"So," he continued on, still tapping his chin "Do you realise how hard the tests are to get into this school with a scholarship?"
Well, considering I took the tests only a couple weeks ago sir – yes, I do believe I remember how hard they are. What is the meaning of these questions? I thought he'd hand me a time table and then usher me out the door, have I been in here half an hour already? Yes, I just checked, I have been in here half an hour. And for ninety-five percent of that half hour he didn't even realise who I was. Huh.
"Yes sir," I said in monotone "I do realise."
"I see," he grinned and handed me the timetable "Well then, off you go."
Ushering me out the door and closing it behind me he let out a hearty chuckle as he read the joke of the day. I looked back; it was the why did the chicken cross the road joke. Tell me, why am I not surprised?
"Sugar, honey ice and-" I found myself tripping over a coke can left on the ground and landing on something very warm indeed "tea..."
"Do you mind?" A deep voice said in monotone.
"Crap..." I moaned.
She rushed right out that open door,
And tripped upon a coke can I had let drop to the floor.
Now her head rests upon my lap,
After she had landed with an almighty 'crap'.
I looked down at her, with vague interest as she lifted her head "Shit."
Ah, how the tables have turned, now she is staring at me "I said, do you mind?"
"His voice is so deep," she murmured and I rolled my eyes back into my forehead. Not another one, I didn't need another bloody fan girl "Shit, I just said that out-"
"Loud," I finished for her in a drawl "Now would you please, for the third time, remove yourself? Or are you happy sitting there letting out random expletives?"
She had the decency to look a little red and got up, dusting herself off from some unknown – and invisible – substance "Technically," she sent me a look "I only said 'one' kind of expletive, and, you only asked me if I minded. You didn't ask me to move."
"It was implied, sweetheart," I picked up my book from where she had nose dived it from my hands and began to read again "Or are your perception skills lacking?"
I looked up and smirked as her amber orbs flashed angrily, but she bit her tongue and continued to trek away. Only, however, to run into a boy wearing coke bottle glasses and a style I could only place as a 'mad scientist look'.
The auburn haired girl looked in shock – not in the good kind – and asked the boy, albeit rudely, why he was there. The boy seemed to laugh goofily and said some kind of dumb ass answer – wait, why am I watching this?
Concentrating on my book I tried to ignore the auburn haired girl.
"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."
Oh for the love of God, screw this. Oh well, I guess it is nearly class time anyway.
Shoving my book under my shoulder I dragged a slip of paper from my pocket and peered down at it.
Locker Number 30
Glancing up and sticking the locker number back in my pocket I peered at the lockers and inwardly groaned when I saw her in front of my locker. I guess it's better then who I had next door to my locker last year. I mean, she jingled when she moved she wore that much jewellery and she always greeted me with a 'God bless.'
None the less I walked up to it and leant next to her, looking down and quirking an eyebrow. She jumped and narrowed her eyes at me "What are you doing?"
"What are you doing?" she said again.
I took a step closer to her and she took one back, I continued with this pattern until she let out a "Stop it!"
A spark of amusement boiled in me and I bit my lip to stop from letting out a slight smile and turned around, opening my locker and shoving Pride and Prejudice in "Stop what? I was just trying to get to my locker, is all. Which, by the way, you were rudely blocking. Have you ever thought of dropping a few pounds?"
The girl looked down at herself incredulously and clucked her tongue, mouthing oh no he did not to herself. She looked like she was going to say something but the coke bottle glasses boy stepped between her and me and sent me an 'intimidating' glance. Or well, it was supposed to look intimidating, he just ended up looking like he needed to go. To the toilet, I mean.
"I'm Henry Jennings," he said sticking his hand out at me "And I just transferred here, I am in your year I presume?"
"Well, considering I don't know what year you're in," I said flatly, ignoring his hand "I couldn't really confirm that."
Taking to ignoring his noise of indignation I slung my book bag back over my shoulder and after securing my locker I walked off with a wave and a 'later'.
But unfortunately, after I had entered the library –which is, conveniently, where my English is held – hoping to have some peace, coke bottle glasses boy entered. I mean, Henry.
"What," he narrowed his eyes, as I inwardly groaned while he settled himself down in the desk in front of me "Are your intentions towards Lady Elise?"
Elise? So that's what her name is.
"Oh, my intentions you ask?" I drawled, leaning back in my chair as his glare intensified "What intentions?"
He looked at me for a while and things went kind of silent, well except for the squeak of my chair going back and forth as I rocked on it. Henry's face had reddened, and he shook his head at me "You know exactly what I am speaking of, Brandy."
I chose to let out one of Elise's choice expletives and let my chair drop back forehead "So, how'd you find out my last name, Jennings?"
Henry looked at me stupidly and then I sucked in my breath. Right, my t shirt has my name inscribed on it. Stupid question, though I can't help being rich enough to do so can I? To have my name written on my shirt, I mean. Not the question, stupid questions are inexcusable and I give sarcastic answers to each and every one of them.
"Nevermind," I said running a hand through my hair – a habit of mine – and looking down at my English work disinteresting. There was a stupid joke at the top of it, and obviously our principle was responsible for this, it was the chicken joke. Again.
Why do they feel the need to put pointless and humourless jokes on top of English homework? I mean, gees, as if doing the work wasn't enough for them. They just have to find some other way to waste our time, and synonyms? What was I in, grade four? This is beneath me, it really is.
"You didn't answer my question," Henry said and I stared at him resignedly "Do you remember what my question-"
"Yes, yes I did. And I have no intentions," I said dryly "Trust me."
He looked as though he didn't believe me and went on to add "Seriously, she'd never go out with you – I mean, she said no to me. Can you believe that?"
With ease Henry, with ease.
I tried to offer a comforting 'Uh, no?' but I needn't have bothered, he wasn't listening anyway.
"Look, I know you're well, passably looking I guess." He squinted his eyes at me. Passable looking, passable? Dude, that is so not cool, "But you'll see, maybe not now. But just you wait – don't say I didn't warn you."
"Right, thank you so much." I said sarcastically, but he didn't seem to catch on to the insincerity because he just grinned at me and went over to the book section and started to read Star Trek.
What a nerd, though I guess it's no less nerdy then me actually sitting here actually doing my work.
Sigh, why on Earth would a damn elephant be telling a knock-knock joke?
"Josh," I said flatly to my best friend who was sprawled across the corridor floor "Get up; I can't believe you are still doing this. Come on man, we are not thirteen anymore."
Josh made a kissy face to a girl walking past, who promptly ran into a pole "See, that girl could have gotten brain damage from that."
"Dude," he replied, rolling his eyes "She was a blonde, she doesn't have half a chance career alone anyway."
"Need I remind you of the last time you assumed that of a blonde?" I inquired and he winced, holding his hands over his family jewels "Yeah, and you haven't learned from that at all have you?"
Josh had never quite learned from all those painful experience, even at one point when I told him he'd never be able to have children if he kept sustaining that kind of injury too many times.
Though of course he didn't care, he said he didn't want children. But he has no idea; I have seen that boy play house when we were kids. Somewhere, in that giant mass of male testosterone, he wants kids. He would not have gone near that Baby Born if he didn't.
I sure as hell kept my distance from it. I mean, it peed every other second for Christ's sake with the amount of water those little girls shoved in it's mouth. I'm all for real babies though, because atleast those you can hire a nanny for. Nobody, and I mean nobody, would let you hire them to look after one of those things. Trust me, as a boy of eight at the time I know from experience.
The little girl I was forced to play with said it was illegal to hire a nanny, and hell, I believed her. She was bossy; she carried a toy mallet in her overalls. This brought up some interesting discussions next time my parents tried to get me a baby sitter, as I tried disconnect their phone with plastic scissors.
"Man, please, don't remind me." He said, still wincing, and then his eyes popped out again "Damn, I think we have an innocent over there."
"What?" I said blankly "A what?"
"An innocent," he whispered to me and I looked at him blankly still, he sent me an irritated look "A virgin, dumbass."
"Josh," I said "I'm a virgin, what are you talking about?"
Josh stared at me "Really? I didn't know that. Anyway man, behind you, look behind you. Man that chick is cute."
Rolling my eye's I said "How on Earth are you meant to tell just by one look that a girl is an 'innocent' as you say?"
He ignored me and gestured behind me.
I turned, rolling my eyes again and letting my eyes fall upon the site.
It was Elise, cursing at her locker.
● ○ ● ○ ● ○ ● ○ ●
Sorry guys for slack updates on my other stories, as I said, cousin :p
Anyway, I shall be drawing some pictures of my characters in Christmas gear sooner or later. My friend asked me to draw that for her for Christmas, so I am. But I shall scan it and send it to you guys also. Well, not individually of course, but I'm sure you can manage copy pasting links, can't you?
Chocolate Ice Cream!