EDIT NOTICE: The typos were driving me crazy. I fixed them, and added chapter one to it. So you get a clean-up and an update!
So this is just a little something that I've been dabbling into lately. I don't know if you'll like the idea or not, but let me know by reviewing. This is only so short because it's the prologue. The other chapters will be a normal length. That's if you want the other chapters, of course, lol. I own nothing except for my twisted little ideas. Review, por favor?
Infatuation.
That tingly feeling in the pit of my stomach intensifies when his dark green eyes lock with my icy ones. His hand can hold mine gently, and tiny hairs begin to stand up involuntarily, trailing all the way up my arm and to the back of my neck. I find myself waiting for him, always. I take my time at my locker, knowing that he'll be there to greet me sweetly with a chaste kiss on my neck. At night, I meander through my dark house, clutching my cell phone until it sings to me, letting me know that he hasn't forgotten to call - and he never does. When my best friend mentions his name, a crimson blush sweeps across my ivory skin and the sheepish smile cannot be controlled. In the morning, I save a few minutes to double-check my lip gloss and twist my curls around my fingers to give them more 'bounce' because I simply do not want to be anything less than perfect when I am around him. We can flirt shamelessly in public without even thinking about other people and their view of us.
Love.
My head rests on his shoulder heavily and we sit on my couch. The television is off, our cell phones are on silent and neither of us will dare to make a peep - yet, somehow, our unspoken words are racing through the room with vigor. When he walks up to me and I smile like nothing is wrong, he can see easily through my facade. I do not even have to bother telling him my secrets because when I look into his eyes, I turn into an open book and he reads every single word fluently. Seeing his soft lips frown makes me want to sell my soul; I will do anything to make his problems right, regardless of how minuscule they are. He is adamant about marrying me one day and starting our own family, even if it sounds silly coming from teenagers - but we know it's the real thing. Also, the first night that I made love to him will forever be the most beautiful moment of my life. I don't even feel bad about not waiting, because why wait when he's it for me?
Possession.
When I see her, a fire burns inside of me - and not in a good way. I certainly notice her side glances and pathetic admiration. He also detects her girly peeks, of course, but prompts me to ignore her advances because I have absolutely nothing to worry about. The sudden urge to rip her eyes out comes and goes as it pleases, which is odd for me because we all know that I am determined to pursue an anti-violence lifestyle. I cannot help but roll my eyes when I see her follow him out of their third class together. Obviously it is not his fault that they have profoundly similar schedules, but I have to take my frustration out on somebody, and he's the closest person available. My heart sinks when I think about her stealing him from me. He's mine, and for some reason, she doesn't understand. Looks like I'll have to make her understand.
-.-.-
"Clarabelle!" I heard Adam sing playfully. I stuffed my unnecessary books inside of my dingy locker and turned around to see Eli and Adam grinning like fools. The halls of Degrassi were slowly emptying as students rushed home to follow through with their monotonous weekend routines, and the hum of excitement was apparently enough to make even Doctor Doom enlighten us with some cheer.
"What's got you two all mirthful on this lovely day?" I asked with a smirk that would make Eli proud. But clearly, his attention was on my low-cut navy blouse while he oggled me openly. That is, until Adam's hand connected harshly with the back of Eli's head.
Adam's face then contorted into a mask of confusion. "Uh, did you really just use the word 'mirthful'? Who says that?" I can't lie, I felt bad for him sometimes. He was always forced to watch Eli and I be 'grossly in love' - Adam's words, not mine - and it's never fun to be a third wheel. But he has Fiona, so we've had our share of disgusting love-bird-watching, too.
"Apparently, I do, Mr. Torres," I drawled, rolling my eyes at our friend while Eli rubbed his head tenderly. "Anyway, you never answered my question. You both look like . . . well, to be honest, you look like you did something I'm not gonna like. So, spill." Adam laughed slightly before nodding his head in agreement.
"C'mon, Clarabelle!" I groaned when Eli used my new name. His dad, Bullfrog, mistakingly called me Clarabelle shortly after Eli and I started dating. Now, it's almost a year later, and the boys find the horrendous name far too much fun. "The sun is shining, the birds are singing; what's not to be happy about?"
I blinked at him three times before slowly saying, "Okay. What have you done?"
"We haven't done anything!" He defended with a dangerous smirk.
"Why can't we just be jolly without the 20 questions?" Adam interjected with mock annoyance, rolling his neck from side to side like a ghetto girl from a Snoop Dogg movie.
I rolled my eyes again at their antics, crossing my arms over my chest. "Did you really just use the word 'jolly'? Who says that?"
"Touche, lady," Adam muttered, narrowing one eye at me. "Anywho. We have great news for you!" He beamed at me, but I could see the caution in his eyes.
Suddenly, Eli reached into his back pocket and pulled out three tickets with a tentative grin on his lips, matching Adam's. They were red and black, and I knew without examining them that they were Dead Hand concert tickets. "No," I said in a final tone before turning on my heel to run for cover - but Eli caught my arm and pulled me back into him, wrapping his arms around my waist.
My back was flush against his hard chest and I felt myself sigh contently before relaxing into him. "Clare," Eli whispered against my neck. "You lost a bet. It's time to pay up, baby." I shuddered noticeably when he nipped my neck lightly, immediately hearing his low chuckle dangerously close to my ear. It was times like these that made me thankful for Simpson's change of heart. We had our own clothes back, no IDs, no metal detectors or police, and PDA rules were no where near as strict. Everything was right in the world.
"Guys!" I pouted. "It was a stupid game of Monopoly! And it was like, forever ago. Seriously?"
Eli released me from his hold and stepped back towards Adam with a look of defeat. Adam glanced at Eli before mumbling something about our gross PDA, but he was ignored because Eli cut him off and said, "Edwards, we've been together for a long time and you still haven't come to a single Dead Hand concert. If you can't accept my other love, then . . . " he turned his head to the side and placed his hand on his chest dramatically, "then this just won't work." He even went through the trouble of giving me a fake sob. After a couple of seconds, he peeked at me with one eye to gauge my reaction.
"Stop being a drama queen. How many times have I asked you to come to church with me? And you never do," I quipped.
"Aha! But how many bets have I lost on that territory?" Eli threw one of his fingers in the air, further enhancing his melodramatic behavior.
"Three," I breathed flatly, watching his smile vanish and his finger fall in disappointment.
We were silent for a short moment, staring blankly at each other, waiting for someone to say something. Adam scowled, his untidy bangs pressed against his forehead beneath his dark blue beanie. Eli wore his usual grey button-down with his black vest and loose tie. And of course, you can't forget the black skinny jeans. It was nice to see my favorite boys look like themselves again - you know, instead of public school robots.
"Fine," Eli droned. "We'll just have to go by ourselves! Adam's more fun than you, anyway." He stuck his tongue out at me and wrapped his left arm around Adam's shoulders in a loose guy hug.
"Yeah," Adam agreed. "We'll have a great time without you, so there!"
Wait, did I say they're my favorite boys?
"Well, you two just look so damn cute together. Why would I want to disrupt that?" I said with no emotion. That was enough to make them look at their comprimising position, and Eli dropped his arm quickly.
He took a step closer to me and wrapped his arm lovingly around my waist, leaving a sweet kiss on my temple. "Aw, don't be jealous, Clarabelle," he articulated. "You know you're the only one for me - unless Kurt Cobain decides to come back from the dead, of course" I giggled at my boyfriend and my curls swayed when I shook my head at his goofy mindset.
Adam leaned against the chipped, yellow lockers with a heavy sigh that sent his light bangs floating up into the air with a huff, and landing again over his big eyes. "Looks like we'll have to find someone else to take to Dead Hand."
And those are the words that turned my happy little world upside down. Had Adam kept his mouth shut (though I love him), none of this crap would have happened. Eli and I would have gone on, blissfully unaware of possibly the most psychotic girl to ever live. To be fair, though, if I would have risen up to my side of the bet, then there wouldn't have been an extra ticket to give away in the first place . . .
But all facts aside, I blame Dead Hand for simply existing.
"Um, sorry. Did I hear that there's an available Dead Hand ticket?" A petite girl walked up to us hesitantly, her pale cheeks blushing. She had long, inky black hair that was perfectly straight. Her eyes were rimmed in onyx liner and her clothes looked like they had fallen off of a Hot Topic model. She wore black fishnets and a purple mini skirt with studded pockets. The girl's shirt was black with some purple graphic that I didn't bother to pay attention to. She looked like Eli with boobs.
"Actually, yes," Adam snapped, glaring at me shortly. "We have an extra for front row seats tomorrow because someone doesn't know how to follow through with a bet."
Eli laughed, slicing the tension with ease. His arm was still secure around my body which made me feel better, but I couldn't shake the odd feeling that was starting to grow in my chest. "By 'someone', he means my girlfriend." He looked down at me and smirked. "She's a sore loser," he winked.
I could feel her stare coldly into me. She kept a warm, friendly smile for good measure but her eyes were telling another story. In girl world, she had declared war. That's an action that requires no words, and other females understand this. It was simply the way that her brow arched in challenge and her head tilted to the side - just enough for another perceptive girl to notice - with flared nostrils. It was a face-off, and it spoke volumes.
The girl coughed uncomfortably. "Girlfriend?" she asked pensively.
Wow, way to be blunt, sweetheart.
I felt like all three of us froze and held our breath, while the look on my face easily screamed, "Oh, no you di-ent!"
Adam shifted his weight awkwardly, suddenly intrigued by the tiled floor. The interesting girl held her hand out to him, trying to change the subject, I guess. "I'm Miranda Osbourne," she announced.
"How fitting," I muttered, not expecting Eli to hear me but his finger poking into my ribs proved me wrong.
"Adam," he replied, lifting his head a smidge. "Adam Torres." And then his attention was drawn back to the crusty ground.
Next, her hand moved towards Eli and he reached for it cautiously, looking down at me with a raised brow. Finally, he mumbled his name and let go of her tiny hand. Miranda actually batted her eyelashes and threw a seductive little smile in my boyfriend's face. "I like it, E," she grinned. I felt Eli tense and look anywhere but at Miranda.
I rolled my eyes. "E? What happened to other syllable?" I heard Adam snicker but couldn't tear my narrowed eyes away from Miranda long enough to yell at him. Both boys must have been surprised by my straight-forward comment.
She bit her bottom lip innocently and held her hand out to me next. "And you are?" she asked, clearly ignoring my question.
I examined her hand and her black nails before deciding that I would not touch her. We would not be friends, and she would not be friends with my friends. I'm usually not someone who judges people quickly, but my gut told me that this Miranda was bad news. And honestly, if I shook her hand, nothing would stop me from ripping her eyes out - so instead, my hands rested on my hips. I looked into her raccoon eyes, running my tongue across my canines impatiently.
"I'm Girlfriend," I declared saucily.
So, ta-da. That's the new and improved (?) prologue. It just didn't feel right leaving it where I did last time. So what do you think? The story has been properly introduced and it's time for the drama to unravel!
PS: Follow me on Twitter. I'm InsightDelight there, too. :D