Disclaimer: I don't own Titanic (though I kinda wish I did,) or other movies, songs, and brands etc that you happen to recognise in the course of this story. Gottit?
Claimer: I do, however, own this story. It's mine. No takey! :)
My Love Will Go On- Celine Dion
Every night in my dreams
I see you. I feel you.
That is how I know you go on.
"...Rose. Promise me you'll survive. That you won't give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise."
"Never let go."
"I'll never let go. I'll never let go, Jack."
I was snuggled up comfortably in the sofa, gripping at the remote control as I watched Leonardo DiCaprio profess his undying love to Kate Winslet. The reality of it all, the cold ocean which was freezing Jack to death, Rose crying broken-heartedly when she realised Jack was dead...
"Jaaaack, don't dieeee! I love you too much!" I wailed, and dabbed at my bloodshot eyes with my sleeve, red from crying. I hiccuped, choking on my tears as I watched my all-time favorite movie 'Titanic' being played on our plasma tv. I heard my brother Christian sigh, and he tossed me a box of tissues which I accepted gratefully.
"Aw, honey, don't cry," came a silky voice from behind me. "I assure you I'm not dying right now."
My eyes narrowed, but I didn't bother to turn around. Who else would it be other than the infamous Jack Sanders, quarterback of the football team and my older brother's best friend?
Well, shall I explain to thee why I whole-heartedly despised his presence? It's simple, really.
Jack Sanders, the Jack Sanders, was the same person who broke off the heads of my barbie dolls as a kid (though not without me poking several large holes in his football for revenge), the freak who sat on my birthday cake when I turned four (sadly my parents still adore him,) the idiot whose idea of fun in freshman year was to dye my hair crimson red whilst I was asleep (which wouldn't wash off for weeks, and the principal even gave me detention for that!)
Aaaand the pervert who, only one year ago, decided to raid my closet for my bras, scribbled my name all over them, fastened a frilly pink one to his chest, and pranced around the school with it for an entire day (though he didn't get away with it without the principal suspending him. At least there is some justice in the world.) For the rest of the week, I was the laughing stock of the school, and had to put up with the guys' hideous eyes glued to my chest everytime I walked past.
Oh, the humiliation!
How unfortunate it was that he shared the same name as my beautiful hero.
"Drop dead, Sanders." I muttered, my eyes still intently following the screen, which once again welled up in tears when Rose was forced to let go of Jack, and his body drifted away into the deep blue...
Sniffling, I grabbed another tissue to soak up a new lot of tears that were threatening to spill.
Before I could register what was happening, the remote control was swiftly swept out of my grip.
I let out a cry of indignation when something clicked and the screen blackened.
"Crying over a sappy love movie is unhealthy," Jack said matter-of-factly, tossing the remote control from hand to hand, his lips curling upwards into a smirk.
I swear, if it weren't for his 'gorgeous' (his past girlfriends' words, not mine) brown eyes, tousled dark hair, and drool-worthy six pack (which I will admit, although with some reluctance, is rather impressive...) He'd, with no doubt, be deemed as a freak for all eternity because of his highly dislikeable personality (the girls who bow to his feet like he's a Greek God have serious mental issues.)
Oh, see how that apathetic asshole has stripped me of my loves?! My darling remote control! My endeared TV! The love of my life, Jack! (The one played by Leonardo DiCaprio, mind you. Not the one who's my brother's best friend, and the stupid asshole who deserves to rot in hell.)
"Chrissss," I whined, turning my cute (snort) puppy eyes to him. "Make him—my remote—"
He didn't even spare a glance at me.
"Thank god, man!" Chris cheered, and high-fived Jack, ignoring me, his sister. The relief was evident on his face. "Damn! Another hour listening to those cheesy lines of dialogue and I'd die!"
Huh. That's sibling loyalty for you.
"No probs," Jack replied, grinning evilly. He obviously has this warped-up brain and a twisted sense of humour, since torturing me seems to be purely enjoyable on his behalf. I swear, his only goal in life must be to annoy the hell out of me or something. What a sad person. I pity his parents for bringing him into their lives, allowing their devil-of-a-son to tarnish the beautiful, innocent world!
After several minutes of futile attempts to grab back my beloved remote, I threw my hands up in exasperation and defeat, and flung back into my comfort zone: the sofa.
"I hate you," I stated, glaring at Jack so hard I wanted to burn holes in his face. "And you!" I added sharply, and Chris flashed a sheepish grin in my direction.
"Now can you please kindly explain to me why you interrupted my tv time?" I said, turning back to Jack. "Or is it just your sad, lifelong ambition to get on my nerves?"
"Ouch, Del! I'm hurt," He exclaimed, pressing his hands upon his heart like the melodramatic fool he was. "Can't I even ask you to go to our celebratory dinner?"
"Huh?" I frowned, confused.
And then it struck me. They had just gotten home from a game...
"Holy moly! You guys won the football match against Jackson High today?!" I blurted, eyes wide with disbelief.
Jackson High was our rival school, who almost always beat us on the battleground (ie the football field.) Winning a match against them was considered a huge feat. Our school, Valley High, seldomly managed to beat them, they had tough and bulky players on their side.
"Oh my Gosh! Congrats you guys!" I squeeled excitedly, all irritation from previously had vaporised into thin air. I leapt out of the sofa to hug both of them.
"Talk about a split personality," I heard Jack mutter when I embraced him (daym he smelt good, what cologne does he use?!) but I chose to dismiss his comment in my moment of bliss.
Never had I felt prouder of my school, which I had every reason to be embarassed about (like the astounding percentage of the school's population who were not virgins, the number of people who get kicked out per day...)
"Our team led Valley High to ass-kickin' victory only because of their awesome captain!" Chris announced proudly, thumping himself on the chest.
"Hey, man!" Jack protested, and punched my brother lightly on the shoulder. "We wouldn't have won if not for my awesome quarter-back skills!"
"What?!" Chris cried out in mock-disbelief, and they started to bicker who it was that led the football team to success, just like old ladies bargaining prices. Then the conversation drifted to a heated discussion of football and whatnot.
I rolled my eyes. This triumph sure did wonders in boosting their already jupiter-sized egos.
"Man, that Alex Patterson! Did you see his face when the referee called him out?"
We were sitting in Pizza Parlour, munching on slices of pizza, cheese bread and taking swigs of soft drinks as the guys bragged about how they helped the football team win.
How painfully boring is that? Descriptions of how they tackled the football captain of the rivalling team, the speed and accuracy and all that blah... Now that I really didn't need.
An hour passed slowly, full of smiling non-comittally (on my behalf) as the conversation revolved around football and hot chicks the guys dug was really wearing me down, and I struggled to keep my eyes open as the football conversation dragged on. Pulling an all-nighter on McGavern's US Government essay was really taking it's toll on me now.
Luckily, I had been able to invite my best friend over, Akiko, or else a few hours of my life would have been wasted listening to brainless jocks talking about brainless, non-educational crap.
She's probably the only friend I have who isn't friends with me based on my relationship with the school's football players, and for that I really appreciated it.
I befriended her in freshman year when she first transferred here from Tokyo, due to complicated family matters which she didn't like to talk about.
You could, I guess, consider Akiko a frosty bitch, but then again, that's what brought us together. My outgoing, yet sometimes kiddish personality seemed to match with her cold and withdrawn self. It used to bother me, how she wouldn't open up to me about things like crushes and secrets, but I got used to it. I talk, she listens and offers good advice. It's perfect.
She's fifty percent vietnamese (on her mom's side) and fifty percent japanese (her dad's side,) with shiny black hair that did the swish thing whenever she tossed her head. It was like in those cliched chick flicks, when the starring bitches seemed to have fans blowing at their hair whenever they entered the school, except Akiko's hair had that effect without the need for artificial wind.
I liked her eyes. They were dark brown, with specks of gold deep inside if you looked closely (of course I wouldn't be so stupid as to gaze adoringly into her eyes, she'd think I was crazy or something.) Her bodacious curves also contributed to her physical attractiveness. I think those are the main features which attract guys to kiss her feet like she was some exotic goddess, but too bad for them, because Akiko already has a steady boyfriend of one year, Hinamoto Takahashi.
I didn't really approve of him since he was so possessive and all, I mean, he literally snarls when guys approach his girlfriend (kind of like a guard-dog, but he doesn't have fleas. Though he does kind of smell like a dog...)
Pshht, hasn't the uptight dude ever heard of sharing?
A flirtacious voice, presumably belonging to my brother's friend Matt, broke in.
"Heya Akiko, a bit too cool, aren't you? Join me for the night and I'll bet you'll become too hot," He said, winking. I scoffed at his lame joke (if you could even call it that.)
She raised her eyebrows coolly, clearly unimpressed, and deadpanned, "I don't do boys who think with their dicks, moron."
A few oohs and ouches echoed across the table, and I watched with interest as the jock turned a bright shade of red.
Half of me felt sorry for him being humiliated by his mates, though the other, more sardonic half of me surged with pride on the fact that my best friend just owned a brainless jock. Ha, now he'll think twice before he makes a pass on girls in the future.
"Babayyyyy," a sickeningly sweet voice purred, and voila! My brother's recent fling, Vanessa and her posse were stood in front of our table. They were donned in identical pink tube tops and miniskirts which barely covered up their ass. It was like a huge page torn out of a porn magazine, but this one was even better. These girls were real.
Oh, and here's the catch, you don't even have to pay to see the view.
Vanessa took it upon herself to place her fine piece of ass on my brother's lap, and within a millisecond or two, her lips were surgically attached to Chris's. I nearly puked when she started making weird sounds at the back of her throat, sounding a bit like the noises people made at the early stage of mankind, you know, when humans didn't even know how to talk? At that time we knew just about nothing except for eating, sleeping, grunting and sexually reproducing (which, in my opinion, was all Vanessa was ever capable of doing.)
Pretty soon my brother and his current girlfriend were engrossed in a deep, slobbery french kiss, and thus, her other friends were evenly distributed out to the guys (including Jack, to my utmost annoyance,) so everybody on the table was occupied except for Akiko and I.
"Let's escape before we get covered in their drool," I said loudly, feeling satisfied when a few guys and girls self-conciously wiped their mouths, including Vanessa. With a small tug, Akiko got up and we linked arms as we marched out of the restaurant.
"Oh, Delaney, how ever do you put up with your brother, who's just another jock with a lack of brain cells?" she asked, an amused smile on her lips.
I playfully slapped her on the arm and dismissed the insult, used to her bluntness and sarcasm. "You were mean back there, Aki," I said instead, laughing as I remembered the Matt's expression when she rejected him.
"He made a move at me, and I have a boyfriend." she stated simply.
I sighed, shaking my head. "But Hinamoto's so... I dunno. He kind of creeps me out." I shuddered as I remembered meeting her boyfriend. He had calculating black eyes, his black hair was shaved into a buzz-cut, a style fit for entering an army, and his biceps were disgustingly bulky.
"He's my boyfriend," Akiko said defensively, with an edge to her tone, her brown-black eyes ablaze. "I will not tolerate you insulting him."
I jumped, surprised at her sudden outburst. "Okay..." I murmured, slightly weirded out. "Touché."
Realizing how snappy she was just now, Akiko shook her head as if to clear her thoughts, before adding sincerly, "Sorry."
"It's cool," I replied uncertainly, still puzzled at the way she acted.
The silence streched for a while, that is, until an annoyingly cheerful voice appeared behind me. "Hey Del!"
I whipped my head around and groaned, rolling my eyes up heavenwards upon seeing who it was.
"What do you want, Jack?" I asked, failing to notice Akiko discretely slip away, leaving us both alone.
"Your virginity," came the curt reply, and my eyes magnified three times it's usual size before I realised he was joking.
Damn, I should have known from that cheeky tone of his. I narrowed my eyes at the sight of his stupid, smirking face.
"Well then, do you want to know what I want of you?" I asked him, my mind conjuring up all sorts of witty retorts in response to him, right as soon as he said yes...
"No," he said, his smirk growing even bigger, and I mentally kicked myself. Dang it, why hadn't I seen that as a possible answer?
"Your brain is smaller than a baby ant," I retorted oh-so-smartly, giving him the look, which didn't exactly work well when he was a head taller than me.
"Oh really?" he asked in a low voice, a corner of his mouth lifted. "And how small is that?"
I took a small step backward, surprised when my back pressed against the surface of a brick building, right beside the Pizza Parlour.
"I..." I trailed off as he leaned in closer to me. "You...?" he questioned, his voice becoming husky.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! alarms were sounding off in my head. This was going waaayyyy overboard, what with the flirtatious teasing and all. I was his best friend's sister, for God's sake!
"Look, Jack, this—" I was cut off when I heard a consistent whack! whack! sound.
In a split second, Jack was a few feet away from me, his hand caressing the back of his head, and he was wearing a rather startled look on his face. Beside him stood an angry old lady, nearly half his size, holding her purse so tightly her wrinkled fingers seemed even more calloused.
Her thin eyebrows were knitted together with disapproval, and she glared at him in a rather frightening way. Even Jack seemed a bit scared.
"Young man!" she reprimanded in a shrill voice, "How dare you?! How dare you molest the poor girl standing in front of you. Nevertheless, in public! Do you have any respect for her at all?! Do you have any self-respect?! For shame!"
Evidently she seemed pretty upset, because she aimed a swing at him again with her purse, and I stifled a laugh as I watched Jack duck and attempt to shield himself.
"Ma'am! I— ouch! Hey!" I watched at the hilarious scene unfolding in front of me, Jack frantically trying to explain, the old lady who wouldn't hear of his excuses, and several passerbys sending curious glances towards our direction. I finally decided to intervene when I saw a faint bruise forming on his forehead.
"Ma'am!" I interceded, gently stopping her as she raised her arm to whack him again. "He didn't mean to, uh, molest me. I allowed him to um... kiss me," I lied, my cheeks growing a bit warm.
I suppose it was necessary to fib for Jack's sake. He totally owes me a month's supply of smoothies for this favor.
The old lady peered at me through her thick-rimmed spectacles, her gaze penetrating deep into mine. "Dear girl, he forced you to say this, didn't he?" She shot a murderous look at Jack again, and I almost believed she could beat him to pulp with her fluffy, pink purse.
"No," I said, biting my lip to keep from smiling.
She furrowed her brows and then she inspected me closely, and I nervously shifted my feet.
After what seemed like forever, she seemed to buy it, and promptly turned on her heels, heading back to where she came from.
"Hormonal teenagers nowadays..." She muttered as she shuffled away.
OH NOOO. ANOTHER BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND CLICHE? *groans*
I don't know what the heck triggered me to post this awful cliche on fictionpress. But it was a 'spur of the moment' type of thing, maybe just for side-tracking me from horrible algebra revision. So if you're generous, leave a review, if not, scram. Feel free to flame me, rip my throat out, and say stuff along the lines of 'FictionPress has enough of these romances, get the hell out of here!' and... yeah. Frankly, darling, I don't give a damn. :P To be honest, I'll probably just take this off a few days later, since it is heavily influenced by several infamous FP cliches. If people actually enjoy this piece of crap, I'll continue :) (Though I guess it's highly unlikely.)
edit 16 Jan '09- THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS, YOU DARLINGS :) I'VE DECIDED TO CONTINUE WITH THIS STORY!