June packed her colorful band-aids in a tin container with a flowery label saying, "BAND-AIDS." She placed it carefully into a small light green pouch. And then she put the alcohol spray and a few gauzes in there as well. She took a peek into the pouch. Everything that a first-aid kit contained was in there. She smiled and pulled out an orange basket full of different colored small bags. She picked a royal blue one and opened it. June then put her Tame Tangler, two red clips, a pink hand sanitizer, a toilet sanitizer and a couple more sanitizers for practically everything and anything. She zipped the blue and green pouches.
"JUNE!" A voice called from downstairs. "JUNE! C'MON!"
"I'm coming, Feb!" She called back as she grabbed the two pouches and dropped into her large gray bag. She hastily fiddled with the red clip on her hair and smoothened her dark hair down.
"JUNE! Mom's going to kill us!"
She ignored her sister and checked her summer dress. It was okay, wasn't it?
"Alex, can you go check on her?" Her sister said loud enough for June to hear it. June gasped and got her bag. And then as she remembered she had to bring her homework with her. She cursed silently and began to open all her drawers in frantic search for her colorful notebook. Where was it?
"Feb, I don't think I—" Alex began to say, his low voice so different from all the girly voices in the house.
"I said GO, Alex. If you don't, I will never play soccer with you." Her sister threatened.
"I'm going, I'm going." Alex said sounding defeated. June heard footsteps and she began to panic. She didn't want Alex to come inside her room. He and February must have come from soccer practice and he would be filled with dirt and germs. June shuddered.
"June? Are you okay in there?" Alex's voice came from outside her whitewashed door and she squeaked.
"I'm—I'm fine." She replied, spotting her notebook sitting on her computer desk. She snatched it and got a big bottle wrapped in her favorite gift wrapper—suns and flowers.
Alex opened the door and June closed her eyes and sprayed all over his mud-stained clothes. She squealed and walked past him instantly. She didn't stop squirting him with the anti-bacterial spray.
Ale blinked. He was just a year older and yet he was way taller than her. His face was wet and his wet dark blonde hair clung to his face. His clothes were soaked. They stared at each other.
"Oh my God, June! What the hell did you do?" February said, appearing at the top of the staircase. She was smothering her laugh.
"I'm so sorry! Sorry!" June said, blushing. "I just can't take—" She was about to say when Alex laughed.
"Yeah, yeah. You can't take the germs. I get it." Then he stuck out his tongue with disgust. "Ugh. It tastes like alcohol."
February patted Alex's head and grinned. June tried not to feel envious of February's height. Why was she so small? All her sisters (December, February and March) were taller than she was.
"Okay! Let's get going to the beach!" February said as she ran down the stairs. She tightened her ponytail. Alex followed obediently.
June was the last to follow.
"I don't understand why Mom would want me to help her with work. She never asked me to help her once in my whole life." June said, almost to herself. "I mean, she always asked March or you to go and assist her in the studios and all." She went down the stairs slowly, pondering on that thought.
Alex and February were already downstairs. February rolled her eyes.
"Who cares? Maybe Mom wants to spend time with you or something. She keeps whining that she never sees you because you have all these Advanced Advanced Placements."
"Hey! AAP is a very good way of getting into Ivy League colleges. And besides, Mom will never be able to "bond" with me during her work. She'd be too busy."
Her sister waved it off irritably. "Yeah, yeah. AAP is amazing especially during the summer break. You are crazy, for a smart girl, June."
"Feb?" Alex asked, rubbing his right eye.
"What?" She replied, annoyed.
"Shouldn't we be taking her to the beach?"
"Right." February said, opening the front door.
"Wait! You're escorting me to the beach with those filthy clothes, Feb?"
February glared at her. "I'm sorry, June, but other people like it better when they're wearing dirty soccer jerseys than frilly dresses."
Alex grinned and February punched his shoulder. "Stop laughing at me."
The two exited the house and June went along with them, still holding her anti-bacterial spray. And when her big sister wasn't looking, she sprayed her jersey on the way.
The beach was heavily packed with people, especially young teen girls all holding notebooks and pens. June began to get annoyed. And it wasn't from the amount of people or the sweltering heat. She knew instantly what was happening. Alex and February were somewhere, probably playing volleyball or hanging out with Alex's friends. She pushed past the girls and tried not cringe when she touched their skin. She gripped her spray even harder. As she moved her way into the middle of the beach, she saw it.
There were movie cameras everywhere. Movie equipment was set up in almost every corner. There were men and women holding clipboards and talking into their earpieces. She saw women running around carrying bottles of water and towels. She scowled at the screaming girls who were in front of the orange barriers stopping them from running into the set. There were huge bouncers everywhere, their humongous muscular arms crossed against their even bigger chests. June replaced her gray bag on her shoulder when a girl her age fell on her other shoulder. June spurt her anti-bacterial spray on her shoulder three times.
"Get out of the way, girl!" A girl screamed at her. "We were here first to see them shoot the movie!"
June rolled her eyes. These girls were just wasting their time on such unimportant things. According to June, actors and actresses were nothing but people who get awfully overpaid for pretending they were someone else on some lousy big screen. But she couldn't be absolutely against it. Her mother's job was a director of movies. If actors and actresses ceased to exist, there wouldn't be any money to bring her to an Ivy League university.
"Excuse me," June said as politely as she could. The girls ignored her. She might as well be talking to walls that wore bikinis. "EXCUSE ME!" She shouted so loudly that even the bouncer turned his head towards her. The girls moved instantly but without first giving her the most evil glares.
She gave out a big sigh and looked up to the bouncer. "I have to get in, sir."
The bouncer laughed. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."
"You don't understand." She coughed slightly. "My mom is the director for this upcoming movie. I'm sure you know her. Heather Carrison?"
The bouncer leered at her. "Get out of here, kid."
"But I'm serious! I'm not—not like them! I don't care about any of this! My mom called for me and she--"
The whole beach went quiet.
"JUUUUUNE!" A high-pitched voice said and June turned red. Her mother was running towards her with her favorite white dress and summer hat. "I knew you'd come!" Her mom looked at the guard fiercely. The bouncer took a small step aside and June entered the set. When she looked back, all the girls were staring at her, their eyes as wide as saucers.
"I'm so happy you're here, June!" Her mother said, hugging her strongly. "I wanted you to see what I worked so hard for during those past seven months of not being at home!"
June smiled. Her mother was trying to apologize for missing her mathlete championships. "It's okay, Mom. I know how much you work hard anyway. You didn't have to bring me here."
Her mother smiled and took her hand. "Let's go on a tour!"
June's smile turned uncertain. "No, no, it's fine, Mom. I don't really want to—"
"Oh, please, June?" Her mother pleaded, her eyes shining. "I really waited for this day to come."
"Aren't—aren't you busy with, uh, directing? You know, your work?" June asked, allowing herself to be dragged.
Heather Carrison snorted and gleefully waved hello to everyone they saw. "Don't worry, honey, we're on a ten-minute break."
"Good morning, Mrs. Carrison," Everyone would reply to her mother's greeting as they passed she and her mother.
"Hey, June." Her mother said, stopping so suddenly that June almost ran into her.
"Why is it that you hate my job so much?" Her mother asked lightly.
June stared at her with her dark hazel eyes. And then June laughed it off nervously. "I—I don't hate your job, Mom."
It was her mother's turn to laugh. "You're kidding me, right? You hate the very fact of movies, let alone actors and actresses."
"STOP DENYING IT!" Her mother roared teasingly, patting her back with such strength. June choked. "You never liked seeing me do my work because you hate it. You hate every minute you're here, right?"
"I—I just, sometimes, find movies and all this paparazzi, autograph business so…unnecessary." June admitted, still holding her spray.
Her mother smiled warmly and took hold of her hand. "That's my girl. You're so amazing, you know. Most girls your age would be out there, terrorizing those poor big men and yelling for the actors to come out."
Poor big men? June thought stubbornly. It's their job to bounce the people anyway.
June spoke softly, "I don't despise the making of movies. But documentaries are just so much more useful. Maybe you could start with making some, Mom?"
"On with the tour!"
A man named Johnny wearing some very tight leather jeans and a white polo unbuttoned halfway down handed her a very cold bottle of water. He was a make-up artist of one of the actresses in the movie.
"I haven't seen you before." He commented, looking intently at her face. He began to scratch his chin.
"I haven't seen you before either." She replied nonchalantly, zipping her bag open and getting the blue pouch full of her sprays.
"So, another daughter or Mrs. Carrison, huh?" He answered just as imperturbably, checking his nails.
"Yes." She answered, grabbing a small bottle that had her personalized stickers on them. She began to squirt some on the whole bottle and when she opened the cap, she sprayed on the sides of the opening of the bottle.
"You're a weird one, aren't you?"
"Well, I suppose you're pertaining to yourself."
He laughed. "How interesting. I like you better than your sisters. July, was it?"
"Ah. Which one had the ponytail and the boyfriend?"
June thought about that. He must be talking about Alex. "February."
"Your mother and father definitely played with your names, huh? They're daring to name all of you after months."
"Where's my mother?" June said tetchily, securing the cap of her water bottle.
"She's working, darling. She—"
And then a woman with a blue clipboard interrupted them, shouting into her earpiece. She asked Johnny. "Have you seen Connor?"
"Johnny! Now's not the time. Heather is asking for him. She doesn't like wasting time, you know." The woman said, a vein pulsing on her temple.
"I certainly have not seen that handsome man anywhere, darling." Johnny said, checking his nails once more. "You must control that boy."
The woman practically growled at him. She turned to June and with a scary forced smile, she spoke in the most fake sweet voice. "October—"
"Actually, it's June." June said just as fake sweetly as the woman did. Was it the heat that was boiling June's head or the fact that she really did not want to be inside the set?
"June," The woman said through gritted teeth. "I'm sure you know Connor Ivey. Have you seen him anywhere here?"
June smiled. "I'm sorry but the only Ivey I know are Yale, Brown, Dartmouth, Harvard and Princeton. Which one are you referring to?"
June almost laughed out loud when the woman's right eye twitched. "Is that so? I will be going then." She grabbed Johnny by the collar and said, "You are coming with me. One of the other make-up artists wants you." And they both disappeared.
June sighed as she took out her rainbow notebook and tried to concentrate on her ALP homework. She had only a few years until college and she had to prepare to enter one of the best universities in the world. She thought about her dream to go to one of the Ancient Eight and graduate valedictorian in her PhD course. She smiled and then shook her head.
Don't lose your focus. She thought to herself as she opened the notebook. On the first page were the eight universities' mottos. Those always inspired her to do her best and achieve the greatest. As she read them there was loud clutter behind her. What is it now? She said to herself, aggravated.
She turned and found a sandy-haired boy on the sand along with wires and old spotlights. He was wearing a white v-neck shirt (now dirty, thanks to the sand) and a pair of dark blue shorts. He was sprawled on the ground and June's eyes trailed to a part where his shirt didn't cover his slightly tanned body. It exposed Superman boxers. The guy's lean body showed through his clothes. His muscles, his well-built chest, his—
June flushed. Mortification!
"Oh crap," He cursed, holding his hand. There was a big gash on the palm of his right hand. June stared. How did he get such a wound if he fell on sand?
"Um," She began to say when his head spun around and their eyes met. He raised an eyebrow.
"What is a girl doing here?"
June felt her muscles tense with anger. "My name is June, not girl. I've had enough of girl calling today, thank you."
He rolled his eyes and got up from the sand. "Whatever." He patted his dark blue shorts and scowled at his dirty white shirt. She noticed his height. If only she was as tall as Feb, she could totally stand up to him, though she still wouldn't be able to look him straight in the eyes. He turned around, his back facing her.
"Aren't you going to get that wound fixed up?" She suddenly asked. Now she really was pissed with herself.
He looked back and she then realized why girls adored him. His face was perfect; his blue eyes were mesmerizing but that didn't mean he was as nice as he was handsome. "What?"
She sighed again. She might as well treat it. It would be practice for handling children. "Your cut. Don't you want to get it treated? You do know that there are more than a million germs all around this place and now about half of that million is inserting themselves into your body and then they will break down your—"
"Stop talking." He said simply, now moving towards her. "You're so paranoid."
She opened her green pouch.
"Don't tell me you have a first-aid kit inside your bag."
She glared at him. "And why not? It's better to be safe than sorry."
"It's better for you not to talk at all."
"That's not a real quote. Your comeback is not valid." She replied, handling her alco-spray.
Connor gazed at her strangely and smirked. He sat beside her. "What kind of girl are you? Why aren't you squealing in my presence?"
"How humble." June replied. "Can I please take a look at your hand?"
He opened his mouth to reply when he got a taste of her anti-bacterial spray. He closed his eyes instantly and heard spraying sounds. When it stopped, he opened his eyes warily. He was drenched in her anti-bacteria formula.
She smiled at him. "I forgot you fell on the sand. Imagine all the germs dwelling in there." She sprayed him some more and then sprayed on herself.
His sandy hair had turned darker and it hung limply in front of him. "What is your problem, June?" He tried to wipe his face with his arm but then realized that it was wet too. "Great," He muttered.
June gave him her pink handkerchief. "Here. We wouldn't want you looking ugly in front of the camera do we now?" He accepted it hesitantly. And when he wiped his face, he caught a faint smell of vanilla on the handkerchief.
Without his permission, June gripped his right wrist tightly. She examined it thoroughly.
"Whoa, whoa." Connor said, drying his hair with her handkerchief. "What are you—"
"There are a few pebbles inside the wound. I'll take it out, okay?" She said, not minding him. She took out a pair of small tweezers from her green bag. But before that, she uncapped her alco-spray and spurt it on his wound.
"Hey!" He said, wincing at the pain. "What the hell is your problem?" His left hand held his wrist on top of June's to ease the ache.
June pretended not to notice that his hand was on top of hers. She ignored his whines. She picked the pebbles out of his wound. "Don't be such a big baby."
"I'm not a big—"
"Stop that!" He said angrily, closing his eyes at the sting.
"I thought you said you weren't a big baby."
"June, I'm warning you." He said, gaping at the reddening wound on his palm. "If they see this, they're going to kill me."
She smiled again. "Don't worry. When there's pain, there's healing or even more pain. But I guess it's healing." She took out her silver tin that said "BAND-AIDS."
"What color of band-aid do you want?" She asked, unfastening the cover.
"Never mind. I'll pick for you." She said mischievously.
He just stared at his cut.
"Close your eyes."
"What, so you can spray more of your demon water into my wound?" He replied, pissed.
"Shut up. Close your eyes."
He did what she told him and she placed the band-aid on the wound. The band-aids she owned were bigger than the usual size so it covered the gash completely.
"Okay. Open them."
He opened his blue eyes and found a very pink Hello Kitty band-aid stuck to the palm of his hand.
Author'sNote: Hello hello! I'm sort of new at this writing thing so please bear with me. :) Tell me what you think through…REVIEWS! Please review! Reviews make me so super happy. And I know what you're thinking: Emma from Glee is my inspiration for June. Well, actually, June is based on a good friend of mine from school. HAHA, hi dearie. ;)
A little thought: You can review even without an account! Just reminding all those people out there. :D I remember when I figured that out… hihihi!
Anyhoo! Till next chapter, honeypies! REVIEW! I love you if you do!