Okay, I apologize for not writing more sooner. Thank you to those who've read and reviewed chapter one. Believe me when I say it gives me the warm-fuzzies inside. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Ziggy, or Barfbag, or the Celebrities (the drill team), or the choir director's mullet (thank God!), or anything else Holes related.
Zigzag's POV
So around eleven o'clock, the bell rang to release us from advisory. In the four hours we'd been stuck in there, I ascertained that Dale Kassinger (who has some freaky Darth Vader fetish) was indeed an escaped experiment from Area 51. Seriously. The guy is loud, and shouts out theories on how and why Darth Vader was framed. I rest my case.
I also determined that this other kid – Jacob – has awesomely awesome hair. It's all curly and red – Ronald McDonald red. And the curls aren't, like, frizzy afro curls. They're all silky and spirally and stuff… Now I sound like the one with the fetish.
Ew.
Callie is really cool. She was running her hands through my hair and massaging my scalp for the better part of an hour and didn't try to inject any weird brainwashing serums into my skull. And the massaging thing may sound queer, but don't knock it till you try it. She's got really talented hands.
We even talked a lot. It was cool.
We were just sitting there, me with my back against the mirror (every time my spot got too warm, I move to another cool, unoccupied one) and Callie lying on her back beside me.
"So, what's your story?" she asked me.
I quirked an eyebrow (yeah, I know. I've got skill.) "What do you mean?"
"Why'd you get sent to CGL?" she asked. "I mean, Louis told me why he went when we met. He also told me all the shit they made you guys do," she rambled.
"Hey Motor-mouth. Be quiet and I'll tell you," I offered jokingly, but not the mean-joking.
Callie blushed and swatted my arm. A moment passed in silence. She arched her eyebrows impatiently. "Well?"
"Okay, okay. Pushy… So, do you know Keith Barringer?"
"Yeah, the jerk from my algebra class last year… I hated him so much."
Surprised, I nodded. "Me too. Anyway, back freshman and sophomore years I was really short and skinny – the perfect bully magnet. He'd do the usual: swirlies, stuff me in a locker, knock the books out of my hands, and trip me on the stairs. I've always been a little "paranoid" as my shrink termed it. He made me even paranoid-er… Eventually, it got to the point where I couldn't stand it any more and so, I burned my school down."
"It wasn't this school… Oh! You went to Creek freshman year, didn't you?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"After the fire, all of Creek's students got zoned over here. Now that the repairs are done, they're only accepting freshmen and sophomores," she told me.
I nodded, finally understanding the whole reason I was at a brand new place. A new place with leaders I still hadn't figured out yet. There was this one lady who was short and fat and had really doughy skin and bad clothes. Callie had referred to her as a "walking, talking traffic cone." I bet she's one of the leaders of the Take Over the World gig. She just screams "BRAINWASHER!"
See? She just screams it.
"What's your favorite color?" I asked randomly. The question popped out of my mouth before the word vomit filters were engaged.
"Green. If you could have any birthday cake, what kind would it be?"
Ooh. Good one. "A white-on-the-inside, buttercream icing with a picture of the Power Rangers airbrushed on it kind of cake." What can I say? I was deprived as a child.
Callie laughed loudly. "You're a true child of the nineties," she said, still laughing.
"Okay, fine. What kind of cake would you have? Something 'pretty' and 'sophisticated'?" I asked with mock-irritation, smiling. She has a nice laugh…
She snorted. "No. The same kind as you, except, instead of Power Rangers, I'd have a 'Beauty and the Beast' picture on it."
It was my turn to laugh. As I did so, she turned an unattractive shade of red.
I received another smack to my arm. "Shut up. I was raised on Disney – you should see my mom's office, it's theme is Mickey Mouse down to the mouse pad – and 'Beauty and the Beast' just happens to be one of my favorites."
Okay, I'd better stop laughing. She's getting defensive.
…Any minute now, I'm going to stop, I swear.
Here's the bet: Insane Ricky thinks this is just going to keep going, unending and Callie's going to hate me forever. He places five dollars on it. Relatively Normal Ricky thinks Callie may find the situation amusing and join in the laughter. He meets Insane Ricky's bet of five dollars.
Or you know, I'll just keep going and going and going and going and…
Ha! I win! Callie just joined me in laughing at herself. I owe myself five dollars.
Is that even possible?
Oh God (not that I necessarily believe in God), am I paranoid and schizophrenic to boot?!
Shit. Now I'm going to get even more therapy…
That's the end of chapter two. About Ricky not necessarily believing in God:
We all have our own individual belief system based on our own particular religion – or lack there of – that we follow. I'm just expressing Ricky's particular beliefs and God is not one of them.
That doesn't mean I agree with him. Ricky is an entity of his own, dwelling within the dark recesses of my mind. I believe in God, I'm a good Christian girl, and I wear a cross to express my personal beliefs.
And no, I'm not trying to push people to one religion or another. Look to the First Amendment of America's Constitution for my reasons why. That, and I'm just not like that.
Okay, I'm off the soapbox.
Aside from my rant, I hope you enjoy this installment. I don't know when the next one will be out. I'm working on two other stories on my other account because those are pretty much consuming my mind.
If you want to check them out (one is Phantom of the Opera and the other is Pirates of the Caribbean) let me know and I'll tell you the s/n.
Thank you very much to everyone who's reviewed and read and enjoyed. I luv ya!!