xmoonlitxdreamx
What do you think of the story so far?
| It's good! |
  
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41.2% | [ 7 ] |
| It's okay. |
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5.9% | [ 1 ] |
| Meh. |
|
5.9% | [ 1 ] |
| I HATE IT. |
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0.0% | [ 0 ] |
| Gimmie da gold, yo. |
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47.1% | [ 8 ] |
| Total Votes: | [ 17 ] | ||
netsofdeath
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- Posted: Wed, 07 Dec 2011 00:13:34 +0000
nice job you got another subscriber! keep up the good work, and btw I think the last chapter was fine dont sweat it.
xmoonlitxdreamx
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- Posted: Wed, 07 Dec 2011 19:45:32 +0000
Thanks, as always! 8D Haha.
xmoonlitxdreamx
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- Posted: Wed, 07 Dec 2011 20:06:58 +0000
Aaaand Tim enters high school. :U Aaaand Jake continues to curse a bunch. :I I hate writing excessive cursing, but people in my high school tend to curse a lot. Actually, people throw out the f-bomb frequently, but I decided not to make the story that explicit. I myself don't curse, so writing tons of cursing is a little odd for me. Oh yeah, I'd also like to point out that Jake's opinions are not my personal opinions on people. I hope I don't offend anyone in this chapter. Jake isn't meant to be the most pleasant character.
RANDOM RANT! How fun. Anyways, on with the chapter. :D
By the way, Dare's not a mind reader at the end, if that's what you end up thinking.... xD
~~~~
***
Chapter 6
9th Grade
Timothy
Once we graduated from the lameness of middle school, Jake ditched the skater boy look and took on the one of a jock. He wasn’t the only one who changed; I barely recognized Dare on the first day of school. Prior to high school, he dressed like an average dude in the standard get-up of jeans and a tee-shirt. His hair used to be short, minus his bangs which were cut just above his eyes. To my surprise, I saw Dare had entered high school with a completely new persona: His jet hair reached below mid-neck while his long bangs, striped with blue dye, covered his left eye. Shiny metal studs pierced his left and right earlobes, and dark damaged jeans seemed to be the pants of choice. Jake also noticed the new Dare that day; he had one word on the topic.
“Fag.”
Clair remained my chirpy blonde girlfriend, but I guess now that we were in high school she saw our relationship as more serious: she gave me the privilege of walking her home and listening to her gripe about the school day.
Today, luckily, she had choir practice afterschool and instructed me not to walk her home since her mom was coming to pick her up. I decided to walk home with Jake, and to my benefit, he invited me over his house to hang out. Hopefully he’d let me stay for dinner since food was lacking at my house. Mom was unemployed again.
Upon our arrival, Jake’s mom made the lovely suggestion of doing our homework. Jake groaned in disagreement, but obeyed anyways. He plopped down on the living room couch, and cracked open the books. I sat myself on the floor beside him.
Jake had his hand propped under his chin and looked to be in deep thought about his Algebra I homework. He shook his head to move thin brown hair from his eyes. Somehow he looked like a completely different person just because he was doing school work instead of lashing out rude (and often dirty) remarks. In fact, he looked like he could be a nice guy.
“Jeez…” Jake pushed his hair back in discontent. “What the hell is wrong with those teachers? They didn’t teach us this s**t at all.”
Well, he looked like a nice guy until he opened his mouth.
“Give it here,” I said coolly and extended my hand. In reality, Jake didn’t suck at math; he just got irritated too easily. If he had a little patience, he’d probably been in Geometry with me.
Jake slipped the paper into my fingers. I looked over the problem.
“You’re having trouble with this?” I smirked.
He rolled his eyes at my taunt. “Just show me how to do it already.”
“Just multiply by the reciprocal.” I pointed to the equation to help with my lesson. “See?”
“Oh yeah. The recipro…cal…” He dragged out his words and stared blankly at the paper.
“The reverse fraction, the upside-down fraction…”
It clicked in him then. “Oh.” He snatched the paper back from me and continued to work. “Damn, why’re you so smart…”
It was rhetorical, but I answered him anyways. “Unlike you, I don’t sleep in class.”
“I can’t help it. It’s so frickin’ boring. I mean, when am I going to use any of this crap?”
I shrugged. Complaining will do you no good, Jake. Just do your work… I shook the thought out of my head, realizing it was a complaint itself. “Probably never. There’s not much you can do about it. It’s the teachers’ jobs to stuff ‘this crap’ into our heads, even though it’s pretty much pointless. But hey, if you ever need to calculate the price of 1/4th of a can of soup or something, you’ll be prepared!” I said the last sentence with obvious sarcasm.
Jake grunted at my answer. We continued working in silence, except for the sound of pencils on paper. Jake needed assistance with another problem, and I walked him through it.
“Thanks. Man… I bet your mom never gets on you about grades and stuff,” he said.
I winced at the statement; I hadn’t told anyone at school about my mom. I even avoided inviting people over to my house just so they wouldn’t see what kind of life I lived outside of school.
“Haha, yeah…” I said in a fake tone. Searching for relief, I changed the topic to Dare. “Hey man, did you see Dare recently?”
He looked up from his worksheet. “Yeah, what the hell’s up with him? He looks so gay.”
“I know, right?” I lied. While I didn’t really accept Dare’s new look, I truthfully wouldn’t go as far as to insult him. What actually intrigued me was why he adopted the “emo boy” style; it didn’t suit his personality at all.
“I wonder if something happened over summer.”
Jake shrugged. “He’s probably just freaking out about high school and is trying to fit in or something. Frickin’ poser… I don’t know why he’d want to fit in with those fags in the first place.”
I bit my lip. Jake usually didn’t faze me, but the sudden resentment toward Dare surprised me. Just last year he talked and joked with the guy like it was totally normal. This made me nervous; to tell the truth, I didn’t think Dare was a bad guy last year. I had a feeling Jake might bail on me if he knew that I didn’t dislike Dare in the same way he did. Dare might’ve changed for the worse, though, judging from his outward appearance. He looked much more… broody.
“I don’t get it either... He looks like trouble to me. High school or not, I still think it’s weird he changed so much.” I noted.
“Yeah, he’s just a poser trying to get attention. I wouldn’t be surprised if he becomes a high school loser.”
I let out a sigh. “Well, whatever. He can do whatever the hell he wants, I guess. It’s his life he’s creating problems for.” I closed the discussion, even though I was the one who brought it up. “Can I eat dinner here?”
“Sure. Is it cool with your parents?”
“Yeah, my mom doesn’t really care what I do.” It was one of the few truths I’d told him so far.
He let out a chuckle through his nose, looking impressed. “Lucky bastard.”
My lips twisted into a wry smile.
***
I lived in room 244 of my apartment building. It was made up of only 4-ish rooms: a living room that connected to the kitchen, my mom’s room, a bathroom, and my own room. To get an idea of the size, the two-person couch in the living room barely fit between the parallel walls that enclosed it. The plaster walls flaked constantly, leaving the floor a mess. Actually, the entire apartment room was a mess. Little heaps of clothing lay in random parts of the powdery floor. A disarray of dirty dishes stacked itself inside the kitchen sink, accompanied by empty beer bottles. The stench of tobacco wafted toward my nose from the kitchen table, which was surrounded by a couple unkempt chairs. One chair had an occupant: my mom.
She noticed me walk in. I was a little surprised to see her awake, since ordinarily she either was already asleep at this hour or wasn’t home at all. She stiffened immediately when she saw me, and clenched her fist. With her other hand, she removed the cigarette from her mouth. My feet attempted a quick escape to my room; not quick enough, though, as she spoke to me.
“Where the hell were you?” she grumbled.
I started again for my door, but she interrupted me with an irritated “Hey.” Unable to avoid a conversation, I slowly turned back to her.
“I was at a friend’s house.” I said.
“Why?”
I stood directly in front of her now. “To do homework and eat dinner… since we don’t have anything to eat here.” I shouldn’t have mentioned the last part.
She took a long drag from her cigarette and exhaled the remains in my direction. I coughed.
“And whose fault is that?” she said in a near whisper. I didn’t answer.
My mother suddenly stood up violently and seized me by the collar. Her chair plummeted to the floor with a loud crash. She jerked me forward so my face was inches away from hers.
“I said, whose fault is that?” Her voice stung like venom, her livid eyes pierced me.
“I-it’s--” I choked.
“THIS IS ALL YOUR DAMN FAULT!!” She screeched so loud her voice echoed off the walls. I flinched out of fear. Every word, every syllable rang in my ears.
She flung me away from her, freeing me from her grasp. I retreated to my room, but I could still hear her shouting behind me.
“Why do you think I don’t have any money? Why do you think I don’t have a job?! Huh?! Why the hell do you think that is?” She heaved and took a gasp of breath. "BECAUSE YOU HAD TO BE BORN!” She drew in another sharp breath. “If it weren’t for you, I’d have some money! I wouldn’t be living in this s**t apartment taking care of a brat kid! I’d have a job-- no, I’d have a life! I’d have a life, damn it! If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t‘ve…”
She didn’t finish; her sobs drowned out her words.
Although darkness enveloped my room, I could still see the outline of my furniture thanks to the streetlights outside. I crawled onto my bed and pulled my knees in close to my body. Leaning my head on my knees, I stared outside the adjacent window.
And thought.
I used to think of running away from my mom, though I knew I would never do it. I thought about leaving her. It’ll make my life better, I would think to myself. And it’s true, I hated it here. I hated her. I thought about leaving my mother… just like my father left her.
***
Jake wasn’t at school yet. I left home early to get some time to myself. After putting my school books away, I sat in front of my locker and entertained myself by doodling in a notebook.
“Hey, Tim!” said a familiar voice.
I raised my head, and was shocked to find myself looking at Dare. He wore jeans fastened by a spiked belt with a black “Matchbox 20” tee and biker gloves. Dark bangs hung over his face like a blanked, covering half his face from visibility. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was weird about seeing him here.
“…What?” he asked, noticing my expression.
I sighed and shrugged. As if the answer isn’t obvious, Dare… Everyone’s been talking about you.
“Can I sit here?” he asked, pointing to the spot on the floor next to me.
I nodded reluctantly and he slumped himself beside me.
“What’s that you’re drawing?”
“Dunno…” I stared at him. He just looked so different from how I remembered him last year... but he talked the same. “Dare, I’ve been wondering--”
“--About my clothes?” he finished for me. “What, do you think they’re weird?” He blinked his cerulean eyes.
I scratched my head. “I dunno…” I mumbled, and ducked back to my notebook. It’d be rude to say directly to him that his clothes were weird. Judging from his question, he already knew my opinion on the matter anyways.
I had a sudden realization. “Where’s Rick?” I asked him. He and Rick were practically joined at the hip; prior to today, I hadn’t seen them apart from each other.
Dare frowned uneasily when I mentioned Rick. “I’m kind of avoiding him,” he said, “but I don’t really want to talk about it at school.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Hey, you wanna come over to my house afterschool?” he asked, shifting gears. It was a random question, but it’d probably be best if I went to his house. Maybe he’ll let me have dinner there.
“You can even stay for dinner,” he added.
That caught me off guard. I stared at him curiously. “How did you…?”
He only smiled and said, “I know some things sometimes.”
***
~~~~
By the way, I mention some real bands from time to time in this story. I totally recommend Matchbox 20. ;D Haha.
RANDOM RANT! How fun. Anyways, on with the chapter. :D
By the way, Dare's not a mind reader at the end, if that's what you end up thinking.... xD
~~~~
***
Chapter 6
9th Grade
Timothy
Once we graduated from the lameness of middle school, Jake ditched the skater boy look and took on the one of a jock. He wasn’t the only one who changed; I barely recognized Dare on the first day of school. Prior to high school, he dressed like an average dude in the standard get-up of jeans and a tee-shirt. His hair used to be short, minus his bangs which were cut just above his eyes. To my surprise, I saw Dare had entered high school with a completely new persona: His jet hair reached below mid-neck while his long bangs, striped with blue dye, covered his left eye. Shiny metal studs pierced his left and right earlobes, and dark damaged jeans seemed to be the pants of choice. Jake also noticed the new Dare that day; he had one word on the topic.
“Fag.”
Clair remained my chirpy blonde girlfriend, but I guess now that we were in high school she saw our relationship as more serious: she gave me the privilege of walking her home and listening to her gripe about the school day.
Today, luckily, she had choir practice afterschool and instructed me not to walk her home since her mom was coming to pick her up. I decided to walk home with Jake, and to my benefit, he invited me over his house to hang out. Hopefully he’d let me stay for dinner since food was lacking at my house. Mom was unemployed again.
Upon our arrival, Jake’s mom made the lovely suggestion of doing our homework. Jake groaned in disagreement, but obeyed anyways. He plopped down on the living room couch, and cracked open the books. I sat myself on the floor beside him.
Jake had his hand propped under his chin and looked to be in deep thought about his Algebra I homework. He shook his head to move thin brown hair from his eyes. Somehow he looked like a completely different person just because he was doing school work instead of lashing out rude (and often dirty) remarks. In fact, he looked like he could be a nice guy.
“Jeez…” Jake pushed his hair back in discontent. “What the hell is wrong with those teachers? They didn’t teach us this s**t at all.”
Well, he looked like a nice guy until he opened his mouth.
“Give it here,” I said coolly and extended my hand. In reality, Jake didn’t suck at math; he just got irritated too easily. If he had a little patience, he’d probably been in Geometry with me.
Jake slipped the paper into my fingers. I looked over the problem.
“You’re having trouble with this?” I smirked.
He rolled his eyes at my taunt. “Just show me how to do it already.”
“Just multiply by the reciprocal.” I pointed to the equation to help with my lesson. “See?”
“Oh yeah. The recipro…cal…” He dragged out his words and stared blankly at the paper.
“The reverse fraction, the upside-down fraction…”
It clicked in him then. “Oh.” He snatched the paper back from me and continued to work. “Damn, why’re you so smart…”
It was rhetorical, but I answered him anyways. “Unlike you, I don’t sleep in class.”
“I can’t help it. It’s so frickin’ boring. I mean, when am I going to use any of this crap?”
I shrugged. Complaining will do you no good, Jake. Just do your work… I shook the thought out of my head, realizing it was a complaint itself. “Probably never. There’s not much you can do about it. It’s the teachers’ jobs to stuff ‘this crap’ into our heads, even though it’s pretty much pointless. But hey, if you ever need to calculate the price of 1/4th of a can of soup or something, you’ll be prepared!” I said the last sentence with obvious sarcasm.
Jake grunted at my answer. We continued working in silence, except for the sound of pencils on paper. Jake needed assistance with another problem, and I walked him through it.
“Thanks. Man… I bet your mom never gets on you about grades and stuff,” he said.
I winced at the statement; I hadn’t told anyone at school about my mom. I even avoided inviting people over to my house just so they wouldn’t see what kind of life I lived outside of school.
“Haha, yeah…” I said in a fake tone. Searching for relief, I changed the topic to Dare. “Hey man, did you see Dare recently?”
He looked up from his worksheet. “Yeah, what the hell’s up with him? He looks so gay.”
“I know, right?” I lied. While I didn’t really accept Dare’s new look, I truthfully wouldn’t go as far as to insult him. What actually intrigued me was why he adopted the “emo boy” style; it didn’t suit his personality at all.
“I wonder if something happened over summer.”
Jake shrugged. “He’s probably just freaking out about high school and is trying to fit in or something. Frickin’ poser… I don’t know why he’d want to fit in with those fags in the first place.”
I bit my lip. Jake usually didn’t faze me, but the sudden resentment toward Dare surprised me. Just last year he talked and joked with the guy like it was totally normal. This made me nervous; to tell the truth, I didn’t think Dare was a bad guy last year. I had a feeling Jake might bail on me if he knew that I didn’t dislike Dare in the same way he did. Dare might’ve changed for the worse, though, judging from his outward appearance. He looked much more… broody.
“I don’t get it either... He looks like trouble to me. High school or not, I still think it’s weird he changed so much.” I noted.
“Yeah, he’s just a poser trying to get attention. I wouldn’t be surprised if he becomes a high school loser.”
I let out a sigh. “Well, whatever. He can do whatever the hell he wants, I guess. It’s his life he’s creating problems for.” I closed the discussion, even though I was the one who brought it up. “Can I eat dinner here?”
“Sure. Is it cool with your parents?”
“Yeah, my mom doesn’t really care what I do.” It was one of the few truths I’d told him so far.
He let out a chuckle through his nose, looking impressed. “Lucky bastard.”
My lips twisted into a wry smile.
***
I lived in room 244 of my apartment building. It was made up of only 4-ish rooms: a living room that connected to the kitchen, my mom’s room, a bathroom, and my own room. To get an idea of the size, the two-person couch in the living room barely fit between the parallel walls that enclosed it. The plaster walls flaked constantly, leaving the floor a mess. Actually, the entire apartment room was a mess. Little heaps of clothing lay in random parts of the powdery floor. A disarray of dirty dishes stacked itself inside the kitchen sink, accompanied by empty beer bottles. The stench of tobacco wafted toward my nose from the kitchen table, which was surrounded by a couple unkempt chairs. One chair had an occupant: my mom.
She noticed me walk in. I was a little surprised to see her awake, since ordinarily she either was already asleep at this hour or wasn’t home at all. She stiffened immediately when she saw me, and clenched her fist. With her other hand, she removed the cigarette from her mouth. My feet attempted a quick escape to my room; not quick enough, though, as she spoke to me.
“Where the hell were you?” she grumbled.
I started again for my door, but she interrupted me with an irritated “Hey.” Unable to avoid a conversation, I slowly turned back to her.
“I was at a friend’s house.” I said.
“Why?”
I stood directly in front of her now. “To do homework and eat dinner… since we don’t have anything to eat here.” I shouldn’t have mentioned the last part.
She took a long drag from her cigarette and exhaled the remains in my direction. I coughed.
“And whose fault is that?” she said in a near whisper. I didn’t answer.
My mother suddenly stood up violently and seized me by the collar. Her chair plummeted to the floor with a loud crash. She jerked me forward so my face was inches away from hers.
“I said, whose fault is that?” Her voice stung like venom, her livid eyes pierced me.
“I-it’s--” I choked.
“THIS IS ALL YOUR DAMN FAULT!!” She screeched so loud her voice echoed off the walls. I flinched out of fear. Every word, every syllable rang in my ears.
She flung me away from her, freeing me from her grasp. I retreated to my room, but I could still hear her shouting behind me.
“Why do you think I don’t have any money? Why do you think I don’t have a job?! Huh?! Why the hell do you think that is?” She heaved and took a gasp of breath. "BECAUSE YOU HAD TO BE BORN!” She drew in another sharp breath. “If it weren’t for you, I’d have some money! I wouldn’t be living in this s**t apartment taking care of a brat kid! I’d have a job-- no, I’d have a life! I’d have a life, damn it! If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t‘ve…”
She didn’t finish; her sobs drowned out her words.
Although darkness enveloped my room, I could still see the outline of my furniture thanks to the streetlights outside. I crawled onto my bed and pulled my knees in close to my body. Leaning my head on my knees, I stared outside the adjacent window.
And thought.
I used to think of running away from my mom, though I knew I would never do it. I thought about leaving her. It’ll make my life better, I would think to myself. And it’s true, I hated it here. I hated her. I thought about leaving my mother… just like my father left her.
***
Jake wasn’t at school yet. I left home early to get some time to myself. After putting my school books away, I sat in front of my locker and entertained myself by doodling in a notebook.
“Hey, Tim!” said a familiar voice.
I raised my head, and was shocked to find myself looking at Dare. He wore jeans fastened by a spiked belt with a black “Matchbox 20” tee and biker gloves. Dark bangs hung over his face like a blanked, covering half his face from visibility. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was weird about seeing him here.
“…What?” he asked, noticing my expression.
I sighed and shrugged. As if the answer isn’t obvious, Dare… Everyone’s been talking about you.
“Can I sit here?” he asked, pointing to the spot on the floor next to me.
I nodded reluctantly and he slumped himself beside me.
“What’s that you’re drawing?”
“Dunno…” I stared at him. He just looked so different from how I remembered him last year... but he talked the same. “Dare, I’ve been wondering--”
“--About my clothes?” he finished for me. “What, do you think they’re weird?” He blinked his cerulean eyes.
I scratched my head. “I dunno…” I mumbled, and ducked back to my notebook. It’d be rude to say directly to him that his clothes were weird. Judging from his question, he already knew my opinion on the matter anyways.
I had a sudden realization. “Where’s Rick?” I asked him. He and Rick were practically joined at the hip; prior to today, I hadn’t seen them apart from each other.
Dare frowned uneasily when I mentioned Rick. “I’m kind of avoiding him,” he said, “but I don’t really want to talk about it at school.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Hey, you wanna come over to my house afterschool?” he asked, shifting gears. It was a random question, but it’d probably be best if I went to his house. Maybe he’ll let me have dinner there.
“You can even stay for dinner,” he added.
That caught me off guard. I stared at him curiously. “How did you…?”
He only smiled and said, “I know some things sometimes.”
***
~~~~
By the way, I mention some real bands from time to time in this story. I totally recommend Matchbox 20. ;D Haha.
netsofdeath
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- Posted: Wed, 07 Dec 2011 20:55:48 +0000
I actually dont curse often either ( i dont curse at all if u dont include the "H" word ). I think the story is really getting interesting at this point. Looking forward to the next chapter!
xmoonlitxdreamx
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- Posted: Wed, 07 Dec 2011 22:56:54 +0000
Oh, that's good. :,D Now I don't feel so different, aha. One of my friends was astonished that I didn't curse. xD I don't think it's that odd, really.
And thanks! Although, after I get the next chapter up I'll be a lot slower to update. :/
And thanks! Although, after I get the next chapter up I'll be a lot slower to update. :/
xmoonlitxdreamx
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- Posted: Thu, 08 Dec 2011 22:22:34 +0000
Um. ._. This chapter is long too...It was like, seven pages on Microsoft Word..... Which isn't too long if this was a real book, but it's long relative to the other chapters. D:
By the way, I think I forgot to mention that Rick's perspective bounces around from 12th grade to whatever grade Tim is in during his chapters. So his chapters, he'll either be Tim's age or Dare's age. Yeah.... I hope the way I do chapters isn't confusing anyone too terribly. >w>;
Also, this is the last of the chapters I have currently typed. I'll be a lot slower with the updates now. ;A;
~~~~
***
Chapter 7
9th grade
Rick
It was Labor Day; the day before school started. The last day of freedom. Only 24 hours before endless amounts of homework, tests, and quizzes stole all available free time. Before the first day of high school.
It was another day, too: September 4th, Dare’s birthday. Incidentally, I felt a bit of sympathy for him. What could be worse than celebrating a birthday right before school started? I sighed and walked out of my room, shutting the door behind me.
“Rick, is that you? What are you doing up so early?” My dad’s voice came from down the staircase.
“Early?” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “Dad, it’s 8:00.”
“Exactly. Why aren’t you sleeping in?”
I briskly stepped down the staircase and entered the living room. Dad sat on the couch with a cup of coffee and the sports section of the news paper.
“I’m going to Dare’s. Remember? I thought I told you yesterday.” I patted my exposed blonde hair, and looked around. “Have you seen my red cap?” I added. He pointed to the coffee table, and took a sip from his cup. I snatched up my cap and fastened it on my head.
“Hmm… Ah.” Dad had an epiphany. “Now I remember you telling me. It’s your friend’s birthday today, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“How old is he now?”
“He turned 15 today.”
“Do you need a ride to his house?” He pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.
“No, it’s just a 5 minute walk from here.”
He turned his attention back to his newspaper as to give me the “okay” to go.
“Have your cell phone on and be home at around 4. ‘Kay?”
“Okay.” I nodded. I picked up my sneakers, which were under the coffee table, and made my way to the front door. A paper bag containing Dare’s birthday present sat in the door way; I had put it there so I wouldn’t forget it. I grabbed it by the handles and stepped outside.
Because it was early September, the air still felt rather warm. The sun’s rays sifted through large, cotton-ball clouds floating through a bright blue sky. Despite the absolutely beautiful weather, I stared glumly at my feet. It made me feel a little blue to think that tomorrow, I’d be sitting in school during a nice day such as this.
After a bit more walking (and moping), I reached the townhouses of the neighborhood. I always found Dare’s house easily; it was the one with the green door and the maple tree in front. I hopped up the staircase to the front door, and gave it a couple knocks.
A muffled voice from inside said “I got it”, followed by the sound of feet tromping down the staircase. The door swung open, and…
“DARE!! What--” I slapped my hand over my mouth, realizing I had shouted. “What happened to you?!” I said in a quieter tone.
“Huh?” He blinked, and looked down at himself. “Oh! My clothes n’ stuff?”
“Yes, your clothes and stuff!” He looked completely… completely… well, emo. I lacked a better word to describe him. His jet black bangs, which looked inches longer than I remembered, swept smoothly across his pale face, shielding the entire right side of his face from visibility. A black tee and dark washed jeans dressed his lean body, among other accessories including studded wristbands and a black-and-white striped arm warmer. Most astonishing of all, his ears were pierced; one silver-colored stud on each ear, gleaming in the sun’s light.
Dare disregarded my bewildered state and talked as if nothing happened. “Yeah, I forgot you hadn’t seen me since mid August ‘cause you and your family went to Illinois to see your grandparents. How was that? Anything exciting happen?”
“Dare! Don’t change the topic!” I scolded. “Seriously, what happened to you?”
He only shrugged. “I felt like changing my look.”
His eyes locked on to the bag I had in my hand. “Hey… is that a birthday present?” he said brightly. He leaned in to analyze it, but I held it above his head. Lucky for me, I had height on my side; I grew during the summer, and was now a full three inches taller than Dare’s height of 5’4.
Dare pouted. “Ri-ick!”
“You’ll get your present after you talk to me about what happened, since you’re obviously avoiding the topic.” I said, and rested my free hand on my hip.
He groaned and straightened back up. “Well fine, if you’re going to be a butthead like that…” he mumbled.
I sighed. “Don’t call me a butthead.”
He gave a crooked smile. “Sorry. Anyways, you can come in y’know. Did’ja have breakfast yet?”
I shook my head.
“Auntie’s making pancakes. You’re welcome to eat, if you want.” He gestured for me to come in the house.
“Oh… Okay, thanks.” I stepped off the doormat and into his house.
The house smelled of warm pancakes and sweet maple syrup. I smiled; one of the best things about coming to Dare’s house was that his aunt cooked amazing meals whenever I came. My mom cooked wonderfully as well, but my mom and Dare’s aunt had such completely different styles when it came to food that it seemed unfair to compare them. My mom grew up in the city and it showed in her food: everything had a classy, almost fancy appeal to it; she cooked with preciseness (not to say she cooked without love). Dare’s aunt’s food had a much more rustic feel to it. It seemed as if she cooked on whim with no real plan of what she would do. But the spontaneity of her dishes interested me; nothing she made was ever exactly the same.
Dare and I entered the kitchen. Dare’s aunt stood in front of the hot stove with a spatula in hand, pouring pancake batter onto the skillet.
“Mornin’ Rick,” she greeted. Her short auburn hair flitted when she turned to see me. “Hey, you’re getting tall. You oughta give some of that height to Dare.” She grinned at her own joke.
I smiled in return. “G’morning, Miss Davis.”
Dare’s aunt’s name was Audris Davis, and worked as a waiter and bar tender at Charlie’s Pub. Davis was her last name, but Dare’s last name was Cromwell. She and he have been living together even when I first met Dare. I had never met Dare’s parents… and when I asked Dare about them, he said he didn’t remember anything of them.
Dare pulled a few glass cups from a nearby cabinet and began setting them on the kitchen table.
“Oh, do you need help with that?” I asked.
“Nah, it’s cool,” Dare said, and gently placed a cup on the red plaid table cloth. “I can do this. You can go ahead and sit down.”
I did as he instructed, and within moments the food was prepared. After we ate, the two of us departed for Dare’s room.
Contrary to Dare’s appearance, his room remained the same as I had remembered: light grey walls with a slight blue tinge, posters of Dare’s favorite bands and singers plastered onto the wall, books and papers (possibly the summer homework) scattered about the carpet flooring… and of course, his bass guitar and oboe in the corner of the room.
“Okay, really.” I began, and closed the bedroom door. “Tell me what happened. You look totally different…”
He only shrugged. “I felt like changing it up.” He looked down at his clothes again. “Do you think it’s weird?”
I sighed. “Well yeah, kinda.” I realized that sounded rather mean. “I-i mean, no… it’s just… not what I’m used to…”
“I kind of like stuff like this.” He grinned.
I frowned.
“What?” He inquired.
“You’re not telling me something…”
He sighed and sat himself on his blue-sheeted bed. Rubbing his chin anxiously, he mulled over his words for a moment before speaking.
“Alright. Lemme ask you this: Why do you wear the clothes you wear?”
I thought for a moment. Then I discovered the intent of his question: I couldn’t think of a reasonable answer.
“You wear what you wear because you like how it looks, right?” he said as a follow-up to his previous question.
“Yeah, I guess…”
“So I’m gonna wear what I like now, not just what other people like. And this,” he gestured to his clothing, “is what I like.”
I sat myself on the floor next to him. “But you know… people aren’t going to just be okay that. They’re going to talk about you.”
He shrugged. “I know that.”
“They’re going to think you’re… different.”
It was a euphemism. I was avoiding calling him gay. I preferred to not use word because it made me feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. I could tell that people were going to make assumptions on his orientation, though; looks highly impacted perception in our school, among both boys and girls. For the guys, it was all a masculinity contest. I could practically hear them calling Dare mean names already.
He shrugged again. “But I’m not. Why would they think I’m different?” He didn’t appear to have picked up on my connotation.
“Because you look different. It’s high school, Dare. People aren’t… not everyone is going to be nice anymore. Probably…” I pulled my knees in close to my body, and looked up at the boy.
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling with a strange aura of benevolence and maturity. “If that’s what they want to do, that’s fine with me.” He let out a heavy sigh through his nose. “Basically, I’m fed up with superficial stereotypes. I mean, it shouldn’t be up to the world to decide how a person looks and acts. Just ‘cause I look a certain way or wear certain clothes shouldn’t—and doesn’t—mean I have to act a certain way.
I don’t really care what people’re gonna say about me… Cliques and popularity… none of that stuff made any sense to me anyhow. Being in high school doesn’t mean I have to play by those rules. I’ll live how I want to. All I want is the freedom to live life the way I think is right. And I have that.”
Though I agreed with all that he said, I remained dissatisfied. My hand instinctively went to my hair. “But that’s still not good…” I mumbled.
He looked back down at me. “How come?”
I paused for a moment. “I don’t want people to be mean to you…”
Dare’s face mellowed into a sheepish smile. “Rick, you’re too nice sometimes…”
I drew my knees closer to my chin, somewhat embarrassed for speaking.
“But don’t change that.” He continued. “It’s something a lot of people don’t have.”
Unsure of what else to say, I smiled weakly and said nothing.
Dare looked away to the floor and changed the topic. “This is also an experiment.”
I raised my head. “What is?”
“These clothes.”
He sighed. “It’s like… It’s not that I want people to insult me. I’m just… curious.”
“About what…?” I asked.
“I want to see how much of an impact a person’s physical appearance has on others.”
I raised my eyebrows. “It sounds like a title to a science experiment…”
He smirked briefly. “It kind of is, in a sense. I wonder if teens are really as shallow as the media makes them out to be. And… Well, I just want to know if anyone else thinks like I do. When I was little—well, younger—I promised myself that I wouldn’t be a ‘mean teenager’ like in the movies who gossip behind peoples’ backs, tell lies, hate their parents… I just… want to be a good person. Or at least try. How I look shouldn’t affect that.”
He uneasily swept his palm through his bangs, revealing his face.
For the first time today, I noticed his cerulean eyes; the eyes I knew so well and had known since I met him. They hadn’t changed. Those bright blue eyes still twinkled with an innocent truth underneath that thick black hair. And though he spoke with maturity and understanding, the basis of his beliefs were due to his childish heart.
This boy didn’t want to grow up.
I nodded. “Okay. Um… thanks for telling me.” I said, unable to think of a way to conclude the topic.
Dare laughed. “Thanks for listening, then. Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk so much.”
“No it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” I sprung up from my spot and handed Dare his birthday present. “Anyways, happy birthday.”
He brightened up. “Awesome! Thanks!” he said, and took the bag from my hands. He got up from his seat as well. “That reminds me, I got you something too.”
I blinked. “You did?”
“Yup.” He rummaged through his closet, and pulled out a small red box. “Your birthday was August 23rd, right? You were away, so I couldn’t give it to you then.” He handed it to me with a bright smile.
“Oh um… thanks…” I smiled shyly. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I wanted to.” He shrugged.
He plopped himself on the floor cross-legged, and I sat in front of him on my knees. I watched him as he opened the present I gave him. “Oh, nice. New earphones!” He looked up with energy in his expression. “Mine’ve been broken.”
I nodded. “Uh-huh. I remember you’d said that, so…”
“And an iTunes gift card…” he continued. “Thanks, Rick.” He smiled widely.
Putting the bag to his side, he leaned forward and awaited me to open my gift. “Okay. Now open yours.”
I took the lid off the box and pulled out a square CD container and a pair of old-school headphones. “The Goo Goo Dolls!” I exclaimed after reading the label on the CD case. “They’re my favorite band.”
“Yeah, you listen to them a lot on the radio, but I don’t think you have many CDs and stuff.”
I nodded in agreement. I held the headphones closer to my face to get a better look at them. The base was a light grey color striped with white, while the cushions on the ears were a leathery red. “But… why the headphones?”
Dare laughed. “I dunno, they just seemed really you. Somehow. But yeah, you could plug them into your computer and listen to movies and music and stuff. Do you like them?”
“Yeah. They’re really cool.” I smiled.
Dare grinned warmly. “That’s good.”
My heart gave a strange twitch. I found myself unable to look away from Dare’s face; his friendly and slightly crooked smile captured me. I couldn’t help but stare into his sparkling blue eyes and notice the length of his dark lashes. I saw for the first time how soft his hair looked in the natural light of his room, and how it gently cradled his face. An unfamiliar feeling was building up. It made my face warm, my palms sweat, my pulse quicken.
Oh no. Please, no… Please don’t let this be what I think it is…
***
~~~~
(By the way, I love The Goo Goo Dolls. ;u; Check them out sometime if you're into rock music. ;D)
By the way, I think I forgot to mention that Rick's perspective bounces around from 12th grade to whatever grade Tim is in during his chapters. So his chapters, he'll either be Tim's age or Dare's age. Yeah.... I hope the way I do chapters isn't confusing anyone too terribly. >w>;
Also, this is the last of the chapters I have currently typed. I'll be a lot slower with the updates now. ;A;
~~~~
***
Chapter 7
9th grade
Rick
It was Labor Day; the day before school started. The last day of freedom. Only 24 hours before endless amounts of homework, tests, and quizzes stole all available free time. Before the first day of high school.
It was another day, too: September 4th, Dare’s birthday. Incidentally, I felt a bit of sympathy for him. What could be worse than celebrating a birthday right before school started? I sighed and walked out of my room, shutting the door behind me.
“Rick, is that you? What are you doing up so early?” My dad’s voice came from down the staircase.
“Early?” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “Dad, it’s 8:00.”
“Exactly. Why aren’t you sleeping in?”
I briskly stepped down the staircase and entered the living room. Dad sat on the couch with a cup of coffee and the sports section of the news paper.
“I’m going to Dare’s. Remember? I thought I told you yesterday.” I patted my exposed blonde hair, and looked around. “Have you seen my red cap?” I added. He pointed to the coffee table, and took a sip from his cup. I snatched up my cap and fastened it on my head.
“Hmm… Ah.” Dad had an epiphany. “Now I remember you telling me. It’s your friend’s birthday today, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“How old is he now?”
“He turned 15 today.”
“Do you need a ride to his house?” He pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.
“No, it’s just a 5 minute walk from here.”
He turned his attention back to his newspaper as to give me the “okay” to go.
“Have your cell phone on and be home at around 4. ‘Kay?”
“Okay.” I nodded. I picked up my sneakers, which were under the coffee table, and made my way to the front door. A paper bag containing Dare’s birthday present sat in the door way; I had put it there so I wouldn’t forget it. I grabbed it by the handles and stepped outside.
Because it was early September, the air still felt rather warm. The sun’s rays sifted through large, cotton-ball clouds floating through a bright blue sky. Despite the absolutely beautiful weather, I stared glumly at my feet. It made me feel a little blue to think that tomorrow, I’d be sitting in school during a nice day such as this.
After a bit more walking (and moping), I reached the townhouses of the neighborhood. I always found Dare’s house easily; it was the one with the green door and the maple tree in front. I hopped up the staircase to the front door, and gave it a couple knocks.
A muffled voice from inside said “I got it”, followed by the sound of feet tromping down the staircase. The door swung open, and…
“DARE!! What--” I slapped my hand over my mouth, realizing I had shouted. “What happened to you?!” I said in a quieter tone.
“Huh?” He blinked, and looked down at himself. “Oh! My clothes n’ stuff?”
“Yes, your clothes and stuff!” He looked completely… completely… well, emo. I lacked a better word to describe him. His jet black bangs, which looked inches longer than I remembered, swept smoothly across his pale face, shielding the entire right side of his face from visibility. A black tee and dark washed jeans dressed his lean body, among other accessories including studded wristbands and a black-and-white striped arm warmer. Most astonishing of all, his ears were pierced; one silver-colored stud on each ear, gleaming in the sun’s light.
Dare disregarded my bewildered state and talked as if nothing happened. “Yeah, I forgot you hadn’t seen me since mid August ‘cause you and your family went to Illinois to see your grandparents. How was that? Anything exciting happen?”
“Dare! Don’t change the topic!” I scolded. “Seriously, what happened to you?”
He only shrugged. “I felt like changing my look.”
His eyes locked on to the bag I had in my hand. “Hey… is that a birthday present?” he said brightly. He leaned in to analyze it, but I held it above his head. Lucky for me, I had height on my side; I grew during the summer, and was now a full three inches taller than Dare’s height of 5’4.
Dare pouted. “Ri-ick!”
“You’ll get your present after you talk to me about what happened, since you’re obviously avoiding the topic.” I said, and rested my free hand on my hip.
He groaned and straightened back up. “Well fine, if you’re going to be a butthead like that…” he mumbled.
I sighed. “Don’t call me a butthead.”
He gave a crooked smile. “Sorry. Anyways, you can come in y’know. Did’ja have breakfast yet?”
I shook my head.
“Auntie’s making pancakes. You’re welcome to eat, if you want.” He gestured for me to come in the house.
“Oh… Okay, thanks.” I stepped off the doormat and into his house.
The house smelled of warm pancakes and sweet maple syrup. I smiled; one of the best things about coming to Dare’s house was that his aunt cooked amazing meals whenever I came. My mom cooked wonderfully as well, but my mom and Dare’s aunt had such completely different styles when it came to food that it seemed unfair to compare them. My mom grew up in the city and it showed in her food: everything had a classy, almost fancy appeal to it; she cooked with preciseness (not to say she cooked without love). Dare’s aunt’s food had a much more rustic feel to it. It seemed as if she cooked on whim with no real plan of what she would do. But the spontaneity of her dishes interested me; nothing she made was ever exactly the same.
Dare and I entered the kitchen. Dare’s aunt stood in front of the hot stove with a spatula in hand, pouring pancake batter onto the skillet.
“Mornin’ Rick,” she greeted. Her short auburn hair flitted when she turned to see me. “Hey, you’re getting tall. You oughta give some of that height to Dare.” She grinned at her own joke.
I smiled in return. “G’morning, Miss Davis.”
Dare’s aunt’s name was Audris Davis, and worked as a waiter and bar tender at Charlie’s Pub. Davis was her last name, but Dare’s last name was Cromwell. She and he have been living together even when I first met Dare. I had never met Dare’s parents… and when I asked Dare about them, he said he didn’t remember anything of them.
Dare pulled a few glass cups from a nearby cabinet and began setting them on the kitchen table.
“Oh, do you need help with that?” I asked.
“Nah, it’s cool,” Dare said, and gently placed a cup on the red plaid table cloth. “I can do this. You can go ahead and sit down.”
I did as he instructed, and within moments the food was prepared. After we ate, the two of us departed for Dare’s room.
Contrary to Dare’s appearance, his room remained the same as I had remembered: light grey walls with a slight blue tinge, posters of Dare’s favorite bands and singers plastered onto the wall, books and papers (possibly the summer homework) scattered about the carpet flooring… and of course, his bass guitar and oboe in the corner of the room.
“Okay, really.” I began, and closed the bedroom door. “Tell me what happened. You look totally different…”
He only shrugged. “I felt like changing it up.” He looked down at his clothes again. “Do you think it’s weird?”
I sighed. “Well yeah, kinda.” I realized that sounded rather mean. “I-i mean, no… it’s just… not what I’m used to…”
“I kind of like stuff like this.” He grinned.
I frowned.
“What?” He inquired.
“You’re not telling me something…”
He sighed and sat himself on his blue-sheeted bed. Rubbing his chin anxiously, he mulled over his words for a moment before speaking.
“Alright. Lemme ask you this: Why do you wear the clothes you wear?”
I thought for a moment. Then I discovered the intent of his question: I couldn’t think of a reasonable answer.
“You wear what you wear because you like how it looks, right?” he said as a follow-up to his previous question.
“Yeah, I guess…”
“So I’m gonna wear what I like now, not just what other people like. And this,” he gestured to his clothing, “is what I like.”
I sat myself on the floor next to him. “But you know… people aren’t going to just be okay that. They’re going to talk about you.”
He shrugged. “I know that.”
“They’re going to think you’re… different.”
It was a euphemism. I was avoiding calling him gay. I preferred to not use word because it made me feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. I could tell that people were going to make assumptions on his orientation, though; looks highly impacted perception in our school, among both boys and girls. For the guys, it was all a masculinity contest. I could practically hear them calling Dare mean names already.
He shrugged again. “But I’m not. Why would they think I’m different?” He didn’t appear to have picked up on my connotation.
“Because you look different. It’s high school, Dare. People aren’t… not everyone is going to be nice anymore. Probably…” I pulled my knees in close to my body, and looked up at the boy.
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling with a strange aura of benevolence and maturity. “If that’s what they want to do, that’s fine with me.” He let out a heavy sigh through his nose. “Basically, I’m fed up with superficial stereotypes. I mean, it shouldn’t be up to the world to decide how a person looks and acts. Just ‘cause I look a certain way or wear certain clothes shouldn’t—and doesn’t—mean I have to act a certain way.
I don’t really care what people’re gonna say about me… Cliques and popularity… none of that stuff made any sense to me anyhow. Being in high school doesn’t mean I have to play by those rules. I’ll live how I want to. All I want is the freedom to live life the way I think is right. And I have that.”
Though I agreed with all that he said, I remained dissatisfied. My hand instinctively went to my hair. “But that’s still not good…” I mumbled.
He looked back down at me. “How come?”
I paused for a moment. “I don’t want people to be mean to you…”
Dare’s face mellowed into a sheepish smile. “Rick, you’re too nice sometimes…”
I drew my knees closer to my chin, somewhat embarrassed for speaking.
“But don’t change that.” He continued. “It’s something a lot of people don’t have.”
Unsure of what else to say, I smiled weakly and said nothing.
Dare looked away to the floor and changed the topic. “This is also an experiment.”
I raised my head. “What is?”
“These clothes.”
He sighed. “It’s like… It’s not that I want people to insult me. I’m just… curious.”
“About what…?” I asked.
“I want to see how much of an impact a person’s physical appearance has on others.”
I raised my eyebrows. “It sounds like a title to a science experiment…”
He smirked briefly. “It kind of is, in a sense. I wonder if teens are really as shallow as the media makes them out to be. And… Well, I just want to know if anyone else thinks like I do. When I was little—well, younger—I promised myself that I wouldn’t be a ‘mean teenager’ like in the movies who gossip behind peoples’ backs, tell lies, hate their parents… I just… want to be a good person. Or at least try. How I look shouldn’t affect that.”
He uneasily swept his palm through his bangs, revealing his face.
For the first time today, I noticed his cerulean eyes; the eyes I knew so well and had known since I met him. They hadn’t changed. Those bright blue eyes still twinkled with an innocent truth underneath that thick black hair. And though he spoke with maturity and understanding, the basis of his beliefs were due to his childish heart.
This boy didn’t want to grow up.
I nodded. “Okay. Um… thanks for telling me.” I said, unable to think of a way to conclude the topic.
Dare laughed. “Thanks for listening, then. Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk so much.”
“No it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” I sprung up from my spot and handed Dare his birthday present. “Anyways, happy birthday.”
He brightened up. “Awesome! Thanks!” he said, and took the bag from my hands. He got up from his seat as well. “That reminds me, I got you something too.”
I blinked. “You did?”
“Yup.” He rummaged through his closet, and pulled out a small red box. “Your birthday was August 23rd, right? You were away, so I couldn’t give it to you then.” He handed it to me with a bright smile.
“Oh um… thanks…” I smiled shyly. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I wanted to.” He shrugged.
He plopped himself on the floor cross-legged, and I sat in front of him on my knees. I watched him as he opened the present I gave him. “Oh, nice. New earphones!” He looked up with energy in his expression. “Mine’ve been broken.”
I nodded. “Uh-huh. I remember you’d said that, so…”
“And an iTunes gift card…” he continued. “Thanks, Rick.” He smiled widely.
Putting the bag to his side, he leaned forward and awaited me to open my gift. “Okay. Now open yours.”
I took the lid off the box and pulled out a square CD container and a pair of old-school headphones. “The Goo Goo Dolls!” I exclaimed after reading the label on the CD case. “They’re my favorite band.”
“Yeah, you listen to them a lot on the radio, but I don’t think you have many CDs and stuff.”
I nodded in agreement. I held the headphones closer to my face to get a better look at them. The base was a light grey color striped with white, while the cushions on the ears were a leathery red. “But… why the headphones?”
Dare laughed. “I dunno, they just seemed really you. Somehow. But yeah, you could plug them into your computer and listen to movies and music and stuff. Do you like them?”
“Yeah. They’re really cool.” I smiled.
Dare grinned warmly. “That’s good.”
My heart gave a strange twitch. I found myself unable to look away from Dare’s face; his friendly and slightly crooked smile captured me. I couldn’t help but stare into his sparkling blue eyes and notice the length of his dark lashes. I saw for the first time how soft his hair looked in the natural light of his room, and how it gently cradled his face. An unfamiliar feeling was building up. It made my face warm, my palms sweat, my pulse quicken.
Oh no. Please, no… Please don’t let this be what I think it is…
***
~~~~
(By the way, I love The Goo Goo Dolls. ;u; Check them out sometime if you're into rock music. ;D)
netsofdeath
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- Posted: Thu, 08 Dec 2011 23:33:52 +0000
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I hate cliff hangers!!! jk I actually love them but i hate the suspence XD write on, and btw when you get out of school or when u have the time you should try to turn this into a book ill be one of the first to buy it lol.
xmoonlitxdreamx
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- Posted: Fri, 09 Dec 2011 01:04:14 +0000
Hahaha. ;D Gotta keep you interested, right?
It would be great if I had that sort of opportunity. ;u; But who knows what'll happen in the end, right? xD Thanks as always!
It would be great if I had that sort of opportunity. ;u; But who knows what'll happen in the end, right? xD Thanks as always!
netsofdeath
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- Posted: Fri, 09 Dec 2011 02:58:02 +0000
Haha urwelcome, And trust me if u want to turn it into a book, u'll definately be able to. I wouldn't be suprised if its a bestseller within the first week XD. no but seriously ur really good, keep up the good work!
xmoonlitxdreamx
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- Posted: Thu, 15 Dec 2011 03:36:36 +0000
Aha, thanks. xD I'll try to work on the next chapter this weekend if I'm not too busy. :)
netsofdeath
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- Posted: Sun, 18 Dec 2011 22:00:12 +0000
so yeah i voted that its good but how come there wasnt an option that said something like: OMG ITS FREAKING AMAZING!!!
xmoonlitxdreamx
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- Posted: Sun, 18 Dec 2011 22:04:52 +0000
xDDD I didn't want to sound ambitious. Thanks for voting! I'm working on the chapter now, and I want to finish it today. :D
netsofdeath
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- Posted: Sun, 18 Dec 2011 22:11:39 +0000
lol alright, and ill try to read it as soon as its posted. i finished editing the first 3 chapters of my stroy (except for some comma splicing that i may not have noticed) and now im adding some last few details
xmoonlitxdreamx
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- Posted: Sun, 18 Dec 2011 22:13:59 +0000
Awesome! ;D I'll read it when you post it~