PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!

I'm sorry! I had school, and a new story on fanfic, and I've been helping out with my schools special education program, and I have science fair, so GAAAAAAAAHHHH!

Here's a new chapter.


Early in the morning, I crept out of bed, scoured the floor for a t shirt that was slightly presentable, showered, dressed, stuck a piece of toast into my mouth, and snuck out of the house. The sun was just barely peeking from its hiding place in the hills, and dewdrops were sprinkled on the fresh grass that could only be found in a neighborhood like mine.

The steps that led to the front porch groaned under my weight, making me pause before continuing up the steps. As I reached the house, I carefully lowered myself onto the doormat, and then set about fussing over myself, as I didn't have Marcus or a mother (which Marcus also held as a position) to do the fussing for me at the moment.

Midway through my go over, the door creaked open, and Juliet stepped out, then froze. I glanced up, smiling broadly. I noticed her tan heart shaped face with prominent cheekbones was framed with her thick auburn ringlets, and that her grey eyes were wide and sparkling.

I stood up, brushing myself off. I looked into Juliet's eyes, and then held out my hand.

Smiling, I said, "Want to walk to school with me?"

XXX

"Rumor has it you came to school with the new girl!" Marcus chirped. His messy red hair fell over his green eyes. Marcus had been my best friend ever since kindergarten, when he had kindly lent me some paste for snack time.

Marcus was one of a handful of the male population at our school who held absolutely no interest in girls at all. He had let me know it was because he was, in fact, homosexual. Being the kind of guy who is not one to betray a friend for gossip points, I spoke nothing about it.

Not that Marcus particularly needed my help. He was in theater, sure, but he was also in football and art, and held a substantial interest in motocross. Which was good, because, otherwise, the football team would relentlessly tease him.

" Do you like her?" He interrogated shamelessly. He was bouncing on the toes of his shoes, catching up with me.

"Christ, Marcus, your worse than a girl." I teased. Marcus grinned. "I try."

"So… Do you like her?"

"Marcus, don't test me. I'm using up my self control not to attack."

Marcus relented, scrunching his eyebrows. He gnawed on the flesh of his lip.

"Do…you…"

"Marcus…" I warned.

"Like…the…."

"Last shred of sanity coming undone!"

"New girl?" He whispered.

"THAT"S IT!" I hollered before whipping around to chase him. He yelped and set off down the hallway as I bore after him.

When I caught up with him, I tackled him, sending us both crashing down. Helping Marcus up, I chuckled, slapping him on the back.

"Look's like the odds aren't in your favor." I teased.

"Dick." He murmured. "Why can't you sign up for football and start taking it out on other schools?"

"Like I said, Coach thinks I'm to small. He's worried I'll break in the first ten minutes."

"Bull shit! You're taller than me, and I'm in football! You just don't want to have no free time left." He accused, pointing at me.

I rolled my eyes. "Humph." I grouched as I spun the dial on my locker before taking out my lunch card. "Will you forget it if lunch is on me? It's hamburgers today."

Marcus sighed, smiling. "Yeah… Dude, I'm sorry. I know why you don't want to sign up; you just don't want to turn into a slaughter house in cleats."

I posed, hands on hips. "And I'd be the sexiest slaughter house ever."

Marcus mumbled something I couldn't quite hear.

"Let's go eat lunch."

"What are you looking for, dear?" The librarian asked in a hushed whisper. I was in the library, and there were a few classes doing research for a report.

"Do you have The Great Gatsby?" I asked. The librarian smiled. "Yes. It's a relief that there are some girls these days who are interested in reading more than Twilight."

"That's not the exact way you want to be pegged."

The kindly woman smiled. "I think it's the best way to be pegged."

I smiled back. "Thank you." She handed me the paper slip with the identification number, an I went off to find the classic.