Title: Fake Engagement
Summary: I'm black, he's white. I hate him, he hates me. He's wanted by many, while I'm wanted by no one. He's the Greek god, while I'm the social outcast. So someone tell me, why did I fall for someone I can't have? Oh yeah, I forgot, his parents believe we're engaged.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys. And I'd also like thank my new beta B-Dooliie. I'm sorry I haven't updated in the last couple of months. It's just that I'm always busy or I never can figure out what will happen in the next chapter. Anyways, sorry for the wait and I hope you enjoy.
Chapter o3: Forgiving
I hate him. I hate him. It was Michael's fault I was currently being thrown spit balls in detention hall. Okay, so maybe he didn't directly land me in detention, but if he hadn't provoked me…well whatever, what's done is done. At least I'm not the one who still has a black eye.
It happened three days ago and he still has a bruise. I smiled as I remembered him coming to school the day after with a pair of sunglasses on. Our homeroom teacher had asked him kindly if he could take off his glasses. Everybody practically whistled and laughed when they saw the bruise on his right eye.
I cringe as I feel another spit ball hit my ear. I looked up from my sketchbook, towards the front of the room where I know the teacher in charge of the detention hall is sitting. I roll my eyes in irritation as I notice that the teacher also known as Mr. Keegan was completely oblivious to the fact that spit balls were being thrown at me.
He looked deep in thought, and a frown would sometimes mar his face. From time to time he scribbled furiously on the sheet of paper he was currently burning holes through. He was grading papers. From the various expressions he was making I could tell that the grades weren't looking so good.
I thanked the heavens that I wasn't in his class. He taught AP Psychology and if the rumors about him were true that he really did give quizzes everyday then I couldn't help but feel sorry for those who had him. If there was one thing I hated, it was teachers who thought they were doing something good for their students by giving them a shit load of quizzes and assignments all in one week.
Hell, I was in five AP classes and we probably only had two quizzes every month.
This time I flinched when I felt a spit ball land on my bare arm. This guy's really starting to piss me off. I whipped around and glared at him. Liam Matthews, Michael Evan's right hand man.
"What are you, five?" I growl at him in irritation.
He only laughs at me.
"Desiree, turn around please," Mr. Keegan said in his usual bored voice.
"Mr. Keegan, Liam is throwing spit balls at me," I complain as I turn around, ignoring his glare.
"Liam can you please not throw spit balls," he said, his bored voice morphing into one of irritation.
Oh yeah, like that's going to help. I rolled my eyes in annoyance. I was hoping that he might've gotten kicked out or something. Wasn't throwing spit balls illegal or something? They should at least make it illegal in high school. Throwing spit balls is something five year olds did, not eighteen year olds.
All I wanted to do was to begin sketching my painting, something that would make me forget I was in detention for just one moment and would make time fly by.
I groan in annoyance as I feel another spit ball land on my bare arm. My eyes look at the clock above the door. One more hour left.
I groaned again. This was going to be a long detention.
I enter the bathroom, the urge in going to the bathroom killing me. I cringe at the odor of the bathroom. The number one reason why I hated public restrooms – school restrooms especially – was because of the odor.
As I wipe my wet hands I can hear sniffling and crying. All I want to do is go home and take a nice hot shower to wash away the feeling of spit balls being thrown at me.
"Hello? Are you okay in there?" I ask.
I only get the sound of sniffling in response, but the bathroom stall creaks open to reveal a disheveled looking Jessica. She seems just as surprised to see me. Her eyes grow wide and I could clearly see the redness from all her crying.
"What are you still doing here?" I ask, not bothering to question what was wrong to have her crying like this.
"I should ask you the same thing," she said, her voice slightly cracking.
I turn around fully to take a good look at her. Her usually straightened and sometimes frizzy red hair was in disarray, there were still tears rolling down her cheeks and her eyes were red. I couldn't deny that I was slightly worried.
"What's wrong?" I ask as I watch her wipe her face with a tissue she grabbed from her purse.
"Didn't know you cared," was her response as she threw away her tissue before digging into her purse again, for a comb or brush I presumed.
"Jessica, I want you to know that no matter what happened between us for the past two weeks, I still care about you," I said as I stared at her reflection in the mirror as she began to comb her hair. When she didn't respond, I continued,
"It's just that you hurt me that day in the parking lot."
"And I told you I was sorry," she said as she dropped the comb into her purse before beginning to apply make-up.
Since when did she start wearing make-up?
Oh yeah, since she started getting all chummy with Michael Evans and his posse. Speaking of which, I had an inkling feeling that this whole emotional breakdown had something to do with Evans.
"You were right," she said, sniffling as she dropped her mascara into her purse before running her hands through her now tamed red hair.
"Right about what?" I ask, raising my eyebrow in question and looking on in interest.
"Like you don't know," she said in irritation before letting out a sigh as she took one last glance at the mirror. I feigned innocence.
"About Michael," she clarifies as I watch her make her way towards the door.
She looked over her shoulder, "Coming?"
I follow her out into the deserted hallway.
"What happened?" I asked curiously. I tried to refrain from smiling. I don't want to sound like a bitch or a know it all, but I'm always right.
"I saw him with that slut Vanessa –"
"That new girl?" I ask, interrupting and receiving a nod in return. "I always thought they were going to get together. Didn't take long it seems. When did she first come, like a month ago?"
I glance over at her to find her glaring at me. If looks could kill I would've burst into flames by now.
"Not helping," she sneers.
"Sorry," I mutter in response.
"I found them leaving the janitor's closet looking disheveled. He didn't even bother to run after me to see if I was okay."
"Were you guys even going out?" I ask in surprise, wondering why I was suddenly finding out now. I then shivered at the mental image of Evans getting it on with Vanessa. In my opinion, they were just too good for each other. I barely knew Vanessa but the way the girl held herself as if she were better than everyone else. She was like Georgina's twin. Her and Evans fit perfectly together I think. But what happened to Georgina?
"That's not the point."
I'll take that as a no to my previous question.
We're now walking through the parking lot towards my car. I don't know what to think of Jessica. Was I ready to forgive her? To just accept her back into my life with open arms? I wasn't sure.
I unlocked my car before looking over at Jessica who wasn't making a move to get in. Catching her eye, I gestured to her that it was okay with a nod of my head.
Once were both seated in the car, I started up the engine before finally driving out of the parking lot and towards Jessica's house.
"It's just annoying how you could really love someone and you'll do anything to get them to notice you but nothing ever works. I'd have to go to school naked for him to notice me," she complains before letting out a sigh. "Boys are stupid."
"I agree, that's why I never understood your interest in Evans."
I thanked the gods that I've never been through such heartache over some boy. Especially someone like Michael Evans. No matter what happens between us or whatever decisions she makes, Jessica is still my girl.
I hope Michael Evans rots in hell. Who knew you could hold so much hatred for only one person?
"There's a lot you don't know about me and Michael."
I continued to stare at the road, taking a left at Washington Street with a raised eyebrow and curiosity bubbling up inside me.
"I know that he's slowly breaking your heart, even if he is oblivious. I know that you both have lead roles playing as star-crossed lovers in the upcoming play Romeo and Juliet. What else is there that you haven't told me?"
We finally made it to her house. Even though I had no intention of going inside I drove into her driveway before turning off the engine. I then looked over at her expectantly.
"Michael and I…we were once friends, practically inseparable. Our parents thought we'd one day marry or something. I remember my brother betting my father that we wouldn't last," she laughed at that. "We already know who won that. We did briefly go out in eighth grade. You can see how that turned out. Everything changed the summer we were going into high school. We just stopped talking. Or more like, he stopped talking to me. He became popular and I was still…me. We drifted apart from then on. These last two weeks that you and I weren't talking, Michael and I had a conversation about how we'd like to rekindle our friendship and maybe from there possibly be more than just friends."
Wow. I had no idea. I voiced this out loud and received a sad chuckle in return.
"How could you? I never really wanted to think of the past and continue to wonder what would've happened if we had still been friends. Whatever. It's not his fault that he doesn't feel the same way."
After a few comforting words to her we moved on to more pleasant things to talk about. After about a half an hour we both bid each other goodbye before agreeing that I'll pick her up for school in the morning. As I watch her get out the car, my mind is screaming, get a damn license! But whatever, I didn't necessarily hate the fact that I drove her from and to school. I actually liked driving. It was just that the price of gas always went up.
I found a nice parking space right across the street from my house. I was met with silence the minute I entered the house. I expected George to be in the living room watching ESPN while Nancy was in the kitchen preparing one of her many delicious meals. As for Deon, I didn't know what to expect. George and Nancy were two very predictable people but Deon, he was anything but. These days, I felt like I hardly knew him. I hardly knew any of his interests.
"Nancy! George!" I called out as I dropped my keys onto the coffee table, thinking that they were just being unusually silent. My ears then caught the sound of giggling.
Curious – as you can tell I'm a very curious being – I walked towards the source of the noise. My first thought was Nancy, my foster mother, but on second thought the giggling was too high pitched to be hers. As I got closer to the top of the stairs I could hear whispers.
I was surprised and slightly freaked to find out that it was coming from my room. I was hesitant to enter, afraid of what I might find. The giggling was unfamiliar.
Seconds later I charged right towards my bedroom that clearly said "KEEP OUT". I busted open the door, a loud gasp passing through my lips. My eyes grew wide as I saw my brother hovering over a girl I never saw before in my life. Did she go to our school? Probably.
It finally came to me that they were on my bed. MY BED! The girl's expression, I'm certain, matched mine. As for my brother, his expressionless eyes landed on mine. If there was one thing about Deon that never ceased to amaze me, it was the fact that he was never easily embarrassed.
I thanked the heavens my skin was dark enough to hide the blush that was currently creeping into my cheeks. I watched as the no name got up from her position on my bed. I averted my eyes from her slightly undressed state.
I cleared my throat before saying, "Why are you in my room?"
My attention turns to Deon who's slowly pulling his t-shirt over his head. From the corner of my eyes I notice the girl fully dressed. I hear her murmur a "goodbye" before walking past me and out the door.
"My room was messy," he said calmly before shrugging, as if it were a good enough reason.
"So?" I growl, my embarrassment morphed into annoyance.
"Relax sis," he said, a slight hint of irritation evident in his voice. "We didn't do anything."
"That's because I walked in, God knows what would've happened if I hadn't gotten home sooner," I hiss.
He stands up from my bed and I watch as he walks towards me.
"You're overreacting," he said, irritation turning into amusement.
"I'm overreacting? You almost did it on my bed! You're only fucking sixteen years old, you shouldn't even be thinking of sex. Want to be a father at sixteen?"
"I'm a boy," he responds. "I'm bound to be a hormonal teenager at the age of sixteen. You may be my older sister but what I do is none of your business."
"You made it my business the moment you decided to get too familiar with that girl on my bed!" I screech in frustration.
"Whatever," and with that he brushed past me and out the door.
I growled in irritation as I pulled at my hair. Whatever happened to that sweet and innocent little brother I used to have? The brother that was always willing to share his secrets with me. I guess he had to grow up sooner or later.
I let out a sigh. This was one long day.
I've come up with a conclusion, a conclusion that guys are shallow. Or at least guys like Michael Evans. I thought this as I drove to Jessica's house, nursing a cup of coffee. Speaking of Jessica, I was curious as to how today would be. The moment we entered the school, would everything go back to the way it was before I found Jessica in the bathroom crying? Will I be back to sitting by myself while Jessica is sitting with her new so called "friends"?
I didn't want to think so lowly of her, but how could I not after these past two weeks? People tend to do hurtful and stupid things just to be part of the popular crowd, Jessica being one of those people. Even though I'd forgiven her, I was still pissed. But I found that my anger was slowly disappearing.
I wasn't mad that she claimed I was in denial over my feelings for Evans. But the idea that she would choose a guy over her best friend was all the more hurtful. Especially a guy who's made my life living hell for the past 2 years I've known him. This was the guy who made me cry over and over again.
I honked as I drove up in front of Jessica's house, my cup of coffee now empty. I looked at it in disappointment, stilling feeling tired. I had hardly slept last night, the couch was hardly the best place to sleep, but it was my only option. I just couldn't gather up the courage to sleep in my bed after finding my brother and some girl up there. All I could do was replay the scene in my head. I couldn't help but shiver.
The sound of the door opening brought me out of my musings. I looked over, my eyes growing wide at what I saw. My eyes then rolled upward in annoyance.
Jessica was currently wearing embroidered hip hugger jeans with a low cut shirt that seemed to stick to her like second skin. As she opened the car door I noticed her thong showing. Since when did she wear thongs? Her hair was straightened, the flaming red hair hanging just below her shoulder.
"What are you wearing?"
I was scared that Jessica would end up turning into Vanessa Santos or Georgina Peterson but much more whorish. I feared that I would have to call an intervention.
"I'm not doing this for Michael," was her response as she stared at the road.
But I didn't say anything and instead turned on the radio to hear Dead and Gone blaring from the speakers.
I've been travellin' on this road too long (too long)
Just tryna find my way back home (back home)
The old me is dead and gone, dead and gone
And oh (eyyy)
I've been travellin' on this road too long (too long)
Just tryna find my way back home (back home)
The old me is dead and gone, dead and gone, dead and gone
Ever had one of them days wish would've stayed home
Run into a group of niggas who gettin' they hate on
You walk by
They get wrong
You reply then shit get blown
Way outta proportion
Way past discussion…
Most of the car ride to school was silent save for the music which filled in the awkward silence.
Once I cut off the engine after finding a parking space I didn't make a move to get out. I had a question I wanted to ask Jessica before going into the real world, a question that has been plaguing me ever since last night.
"Jessica," I said trying to get her attention. With her hand on the door handle, she looked over at me with a questioning stare. I let out a sight before voicing my thoughts. "Is everything going to go back to the way it was, to the way we were just before two weeks ago? Or will we just act like nothing happened in these last twenty four hours?"
I watched as she let go of the handle.
"I don't know."
My shoulders tensed. I no longer had the energy to be pissed off at her. But why did she have to do this during senior year, becoming part of the popular crowd I mean.
"They're going to hurt you. Not just Evans but the others too. When they get bored they're going to just toss you aside."
"I know," she said with a sigh. "But I don't care about those people. I only care about Michael."
Okay, I was beginning to think her "crush" on Evans was beginning to border onto obsession.
"He's not worth it."
And then it's silent. Everybody's now just making their way towards the school.
"Well, we should head inside."
I nod in agreement as I take my key out of the ignition before unzipping my backpack and dropping the keys inside.
As I bid Jessica goodbye the moment we entered the school, I only had one thing in mind. Kill Michael Evans. I march through the hall, pushing through the occasional crowds as if on a mission.
I spot him by the boy's bathroom talking with Liam Matthews, the infamous spit baller.
"Evans!" I yell, drawing attention to myself. I watch as his eyes grow wide before morphing into amusement. Why was it that everything I did was amusing to this guy?
I looked over at Matthews.
"Get lost," I growled. Of course that didn't have the effect I wanted it to. He didn't run off scared (a girl could only hope), he only held up his hands as if meaning no harm before turning around and walking away.
My attention then turned back to Evans who was looking on with a raised eyebrow, his eyes twinkling.
Before I let him say anything, I pushed him against the wall, ignoring the stares.
"If I knew you wanted me so –"
"Shut up!" I hiss in annoyance, he was just so full of himself. "You're an asshole, do you know that. Yesterday I had to comfort Jessica because she saw you with that slut Vanessa. You can't possibly be oblivious to her feelings for you. She's in love with you and I quite frankly don't understand what she sees in you. It certainly isn't your charm. You're an obnoxious, self centered and shallow human being. And I –"
"Miss Johnson," an all too familiar voice called, drawing attention from the students still roaming the halls.
I turn around to find the principal sending me a look of absolute disappointment.
"I'd like to see you in my office."
I groan. And from the corner of my eye I see Evan's lips twitch, forming a smile. Oh shit, not again.
A/N: I'm so sorry that it took me this long to get the third chapter out. I'm currently on my summer vacation and my goal is to update as much as possible. I'll either be updating this again or thirty days. I already have some of chapter four planned out. Tell me what you think. And until next time…