Liar by Taking Back Sunday
"Liar, Liar. It takes one to know one."
A blanket covering me up, a pillow underneath my head, and a hand around my waist; which one of those does not belong? Well, considering the fact that I do not have a boyfriend, I'm going to go with the last one. There's also a some breathing going on behind me that's making my hair gap open. I would've considered that as one of the choices, but being me I'm very OCD on things. I can't stand the fact that there would be more than three choices; it just looks all... messy.
Opening my eyes, I see my younger brother playing some shooting game on the old recliner. My older brother is, oddly, nowhere in sight. Usually, he'd be up making a corn dog for breakfast or putting shaving cream on my hand. Then again, he's probably upstairs, stinking up the the bathroom with his Axe body spray. Speaking of body soaps, it smelled like Irish Spring. The odor was mysteriously, coming from the person behind me.
I use my index finger and thumb to grab the hand's pinkie finger and remove it off my waist. Like a ninja, I roll off of the couch I had fallen asleep on and almost jump up with cat-like reflexes. Instead, I find myself banging my head on the wooden coffee table.
A yelp escapes from my lips and laughter erupts from the kitchen and the recliner. My brothers had just witnessed me getting hurt and now they were laughing like they were watching a good special on Comedy Central. An abrupt echo-ish gasp comes from the couch I was just laying on. When I look over there, I finally see the person who got a little to close for my taste. He was wearing a mask from the movie, Chucky. (Unless it was his actual face. Of which I doubted since I could see black hair poking out from the mask.
"Dude, what happened last night?" My older brother, Sam, walks into the room. He plops down onto the broken recliner, a Coke can in his hand,"I thought you we're going to scare her!"
The stranger on the couch swipes off the mask and runs a hand through his messy hair. He sits up and replies,"I was waiting for her to get that feeling that she was being watched, but I kinda fell asleep."
"Yeah, obviously," Then Sam turns to me,"You're lucky grandma and grandpa aren't awake, yet. They would've taken both of your positions as a sex sign."
"A what?! I don't even know that guy! They should take it as a rape sign instead," I exclaim, getting up and storming towards the kitchen.
I go searching in the fridge for something to eat. Oatmeal in the fridge? Gross. Switching my options, I go and look into the cereal cabinet. A spider dangles in the middle of it. Other than that, it's full of stale cereal that wasn't even in a container. Strange. Usually, my grandparents had all the food in the world stocked up in every corner of the kitchen.
Closing the cabinet, the stranger appears behind the door. I narrow my eyes at him, studying the ring that was poking out of the right of his lip and the one on his left eyebrow. When I asked my parents for either one, they stared at me a good long time and just turned away. Speaking of turning away, I wondered if this guy had a cereal on him; even though turning away has nothing to do with having cereal on him. Just a thought that had popped into my head.
"Is the lip ring fake?" I blurt out.
He stares at me, weirdly. Then, with a shake of his head, he flicks his dark bangs out of his eyes. A smile forms on his lips as he says,"Nope!"
My eyes grow wide when he says that. He sounded so childish, but had a deep voice at the same time. Not to mention his taste in style. I suck in my lips to prevent my laughter to start spilling out. My eyes start to get watery and when Sam walks into the kitchen, I let it all go. I'm pretty sure my laughing fit caused an earthquake, because my whole body was shaking.
Stranger dude giggles to mess around with me, making me laugh harder."What's so funny?"
"Ftff you fff, tch." Or something comes out of my mouth.
Sam's eyes widen at me (or so what I can see from my watery eyes) and he says,"Noah, what did you do? Cam's going to break her laugh-box and I'll be blamed."
Fanning my face to cool off, I'm finally able to talk without making alien sounds,"I need to borrow ten bucks." My face turns serious as I look over at Sam.
"Grandma's taking us shopping, remember? I'm hoping Grandpa is making his famous pancakes, when he gets up." Sam replies, sitting down at the marbled bar table. He takes an obnoxious slurp out of the coke can and sets it down. How is it that they have Coke, but they don't have important things like I don't know...food, maybe?
A giggle comes from the direction of this so called, Noah. I look over at him, catching him putting on Grandpa's old mailman hat with ear flaps and everything. That's when I realize.... This guy is still a total stranger to me.
"Who are you exactly?" I ask him, putting my hands on my hips. His face turns serious as he looks directly into my eyes. I brace my self for the most epic response to this question ever.
Noah cups his hands over his mouth and breaths deeply. He says in a Darth Vader voice,"I am your father." Then, he starts trying to use the force on inanimate objects. Pointing the fridge, he pretends to pick it up and fling it at Sam.
Sam rolls his eyes at Noah and replies for him,"His name is Noah and he came here with his grandma, last night. Something about needing to pick up cookies?" He stares up at the ceiling in thought, then goes on,"We started playing Halo 3 oh the hardest level and wouldn't stop until we passed it."
I raise an eyebrow and ask,"So, you passed it?"
"Sam got mad and threw the controller on the ground, breaking it." Noah speaks up, a smile planted on his lips.
"I'm guessing that's how you got the idea of trying to scare me with a Chucky mask," I glare at him. He makes some sound that crosses with an "eep" and a squeaky scream. It makes me jump and squeal with surprise.
Grandpa appears, silently, making it seem like he was eavesdropping the whole time. Sam turns to him with delight, watching as he goes to the pantry and pulls out some pancake batter to make his fluffy pancakes. Noah watches him with his mouth in an 'o'. I watch him closely, seeing that hes hiding something in his hand. Something red and plump. My jaw drops to the ground as I realize it's a pomegranate, one of the best fruits ever! (Thank you, Aphrodite.)
"Is that what I think it is, Grandpa?" I eye him, suspiciously.
He turns to face me, holding up the red fruit, innocently,"I have no idea what you are talking about, Camellia."
Crossing my arm over my chest, I respond by humming a,"Mhm."
"Sorry, Cam. This pomegranate is for a friend." Grandpa says, in his raspy voice.
I sigh, but end up saying,"That's alright. I'll buy one at the store or something."
I leave the room and travel upstairs to my guest walls were painted a cream color. There was a dresser, closet, television set, and a double-sided bed in the room, while old glued-together puzzles of sailboats hung on the wall. A photo of the whole entire side of my mother's family was in a golden frame on the dresser.
Walking over to the dresser, I pull out a pair of black skinny jeans and a violet V-neck. I walk out of my room, into the bathroom to take a shower, when I hear an unfamiliar laugh come from downstairs. Curious, I look down the railing to see that Noah had made a burnt pancake with a cherry on top as a joke. He notices me and holds it up.
"I'll make you one special!" He shouts, putting up one thumb-up.
I laugh and walk into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Once, I strip away my clothes and step into the shower, the cold water pokes the part on my head I had hit on the coffee table. The mascara I had forgotten to take off, runs into my eyes, and I feel as though I've just pulled my eyeballs out of my head. Last but not least, the smell of a burnt pancake drifts up into my nostrils. What kind of a shower was this?!
I cut a triangle shape out of my fluffy, slightly burnt, pancake that Noah had made for me; "Special." Mmm, tasted special to me. I guess it's the thought that counts.
Noah finishes up making two pancakes for himself and sits on the bar stool next to me. I watch, secretly, as he takes a bite of his pancake. His face brightens up even more than it already is and he giggles. He has to do this while I'm drinking my milk, doesn't he? I end up splurting it out as I laugh. Sam, being right next to me at the bar table, stuffs a giant piece of pancake into my mouth to get me to shut up. Well, I'd like to say it worked. Let's just leave it at that.
"I don't know how you make her laugh so hard, but could you quit it?" Sam grimaces at Noah. Noah smiles in return and practically pours the whole syrup bottle onto his pancakes.
"Noah?" I ask, my eyes widening at the pancake that was practically screaming for help.
"Mhm?" He responds, swaying on his chair side to side and looking at me with a goofy grin.
"Your pancake is like...drowning."
"Save it!" He practically screams at me.
Not knowing what else to do, I lean down and put my lips onto the drowning pancake. I start blowing on it, trying to give it oxygen or... cakegen? The syrup bubbles under my lips and I erupt into giggles, causing the gooey stuff to fly onto my chin. Suddenly, a hand pushes me down into the pancake, making the syrup cover all of my face. Immediately, I sit up and glare at my little brother, Nathan, who happened to be passing by when the incident happened.
Not only is he laughing, but Sam and Noah are, too. I slap Sam's arm, making him wince. Looking over at a worried Noah, I'm about to hit him, too, when suddenly, he gives me the Puss-in-boots eyes. This is when I just notice his dark gray eyes. In all of my life, I had never seen eyes that are his color. They had little splashes of light gray in them that made me just... happy?
I guess I stared into his eyes for too long, because Sam started shaking my shoulder. Before I tear my eyes away from Noah's eyes, he gives me a small smile that makes me blush. I think it's the fact that I just embarrassed myself and he knows it.
I felt like posting a new story for some reason. I started writing the plot down in school today and then, it just sort of stuck on me. (Plus, my friend wouldn't stop bothering me about writing a story based on songs. It's kind of hard though, if you ask me.)
When I came up with the part where Noah goes all Darth Vader, I was watching this weird video on youtube. It went a little something like this:
Darth Vader:"Luke, I am your...mother!"
Anyway, before I started to spread my nerd cooties around I better end this author note.
~The girl who dances with pirates.