Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Kissing Day

Novel By: pyimmy
Young adult



I suppose you may think this is like any other story, or movie about some teenaged girl with an issue well... you're probably right. Really, right!'Cause my life's twisted, pathetic and just plain fu*ked up... Until he walked in, when he came things changed...

Or so, I thought.

Somehow, I ended up on Church Hill, between Cedar’s street and Guther’s Lane intersection. A dark night like this, I should be in my room writing poetry or playing my guitar till I fall asleep. But, no I’m barefoot on a street I basically know by road signs. How I got here barefoot and drunk, I don’t know. My head was fuzzy with unclear thoughts of a party. As if I am a party person.

Sorry, I guess I should better introduce myself. The name is Jazaline Augusta Low your favorite class freak, loner and music extraordinaire. And my head hurts; I think I should add that. I’m staring down at the yellow lines drawn on the road and thinking about how they appear so much shorter when you’re driving. Not that, that bit of information should make your day. It’s not making my night seem peachy.

* * *

 

“Jazeline, you don’t understand… I’m popular. And -- and popular people have to do certain things to stay so. I hate to say it but, I tricked you so you would have a good time,” She paused, “because, your just such a… a loner.” I can’t believe this, my own sister is doing this to me, again. “I wanted you to have a good time, but it went downhill. And then everyone--”

“You know what, I’m glad we had this talk. Now I realized what lives behind that mask of yours.” I turned to walk away then added, “Don’t count on me for anything.”

* * *

“Hey,” She sifts through her laughter. “What do we have here? It’s lil’ sister to the rescue. Da da-da da da-da da!” Her and her little friends group around as if I should feel intimidated. Now that I lost respect for my sister, I don’t have to respect them either.

“Wow, Julie, you always look so hot,” I grab my soda, “Maybe you should, I don’t know cool off!” Of course, I preformed my civic duty and spilled my Spite on the trick. Not laughing when ice is in your shirt, are you?

“Oops. I’m such a klutz.”

“You’re going to pay for that, Jazeline. If you thought you were an outcast before, just wait till Monday!” Julie has her eye on me as if I’m wearing all red; she’s the bull. I know what she's full of too.

* * *

“Thanks.” This is just how little girls get abducted; but what do I know, I let some stranger drive me home last night. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Delilah, we just moved two weeks ago on a count of mom’s job. Day was mad cause he has to transfer Karate schools and leave his girlfriend.” One question and it seems like she’ll tell me everyone’s biography.

“Between me and you, I never liked her.” I had to laugh a little.

“You call your brother Day?” It’s a funny nickname but it’s original. At least, I’ve never heard of it before.

“Yeah, not only on a count of his name but cause he makes everyone happy.”

“Like sunshine and blue skies?” How cute.

* * *

“Ah.” I yelped in pain as I tried to get up in order to throw my food in the trash. One of my heels broke as I was walking on a rocky area of the green. Day was at my side before I could explain.

“I guess beauty really is pain. You must be dieing” He muttered as he helped me back to the bench we had. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a little… embarrassed,” I confessed.

“Don’t be,” He states as he reaches for my foot, carefully taking off the broken shoe. I’m looking from his face to his hand and back. Again, not sure… of anything. He is making me so nervous. So I gently remove my feet from his hands and search my bag for my high tops. “Do you ever want your shoes back?”

* * *

“You’re just like the rest of them!” I scream at him just hoping he could feel it. “How could you be so heartless?”

“Jay, I don--”

“Don’t call me that!” I interrupt him, turning around from the bleachers and back to him again; taking in a long deep, hurt-filled gulp of air. “You know what? Don’t EVER call me at all. I never want to see you, you’re such a liar! Pathetic,”

“Look, I-it’s not…” Sooo, what? Cat got your freakin' tongue? “You know what, I’m tired and when you see what you need to see don’t come crawling back to me! I’m not the pathetic one.” His blue eyes turned so vicious I had to step back as he walks off. I can’t believe this is happening.

I crawl under the bleacher as a light rain drains and cry silently, rocking back and forth on the damp grass.

Kissing Day
Coming to Booksie.com on March 14, 2011
Pyimmy Creations© View table of contents...


Chapters:

1

Submitted:Mar 14, 2011    Reads: 44    Comments: 1    Likes: 2   


Somehow, I ended up on Church Hill, between Cedar's street and Guther's Lane intersection. A dark night like this, I should be in my room writing poetry or playing my guitar till I fall asleep. But, no I'm barefoot on a street I basically know by road signs. How I got here barefoot and drunk, I don't know. My head was fuzzy with unclear thoughts of a party. As if I am a party person.       Sorry, I guess I should better introduce myself. The name is Jazaline Augusta Low your favorite class freak, loner and music extraordinaire. And my head hurts; I think I should add that. I'm staring down at the yellow lines drawn on the road and thinking about how they appear so much shorter when you're driving. Not that, that bit of information should make your day. It's not making my night seem peachy.     The road is cold on my feet. There are houses to the left and right of each road. You would think that a car would come here by now, I guess it's later than I'm thinking. I wonder how the road would feel on my skin. Will the coldness slowly dissipate or will it make me feel even colder than I already am, inside and out?       I suppose lying on the road barefoot with a bottle of Vodka would make me look like a substance abuser. I'm not, though, I just needed a pick-me-up. Oh yeah, now I fully remember what happened. I tried not to, and almost succeeded. I'm groaning at the memory. Someone's stupid dog is barking too loudly, a light comes on from a house two doors from me. How good would it feel to scream, not at myself but everyone? What the heck, I'm drunk; I have an excuse to scream.       Just as I open my mouth a red mustang comes along the road. Run me over. What am I thinking? It honks at me but I'm not budging. The driver opens the door and I roll over. All I can do is hear what this person is doing now. They're closing the door and silently walking towards me. Common sense would tell me to move, but she's on hold while I'm taking a mental shower.       "Are you okay?" A guy asked, his voice sounded more concerned then I thought it would be. I open my mouth to respond but shut it back closed. Instead I nod my head; then I shake it. I don't know if I'm okay. I sigh. He's walking around to face me now; I'm closing my eyes. Shameful. "Whatever it is, there's no need to drink over it." I remember when I used to dream about guys like that: knights in shining armors. Now I just dream; I hardly even remember what I dream about these days. "Do you need some help?" He asks me. It's my turn to actually exchange words rather than breath and sighs.     Aw crud, what should I say? "Yeah," I could have done better. Ah, the 'yeah'. A simple but vague way to agree to something. I wish I knew were it originated, maybe Africa. People there speak many different languages. 'Yeah' is the universal word of agreements; it's the verbal version of water! [Sorry, I'm running out-too much sweet drinks. I blame cooperate businesses that sell us that junk. I'll own one soon though. Running on again.]       "Let me help you," It sounds like a question to me. Do you want to help me? I should probably open my eyes. A part of me does not want to see this person. He might be someone I have seen, he might be utterly gorgeous or down right hideous, or he might be like me: a regular.     I should not be caring.       I open my eyes to find that he is sitting next to me on the road; his car still running. He seems to be athletic, at least by looks. His hair is short and dark brown. His head is turned, looking down Guther's Lane. I don't know what to think, or do. So, I'm getting up and I have trouble.     He quickly turns around, revealing clear blue eyes. He is helping me up and getting up at the same time. Knight in shining armor, I'm thinking. Stay away. I look him in the eyes, nod my head sharply (fuzzy-like actually) and begin to walk away.     "Wait!" He says, I guess he forgot to mug me. He slowly walks towards me and reaches for the Vodka. "It's too late to be drinking." As if I should be drinking at all. "Maybe, you should let me take you home." He does not wait for me to reply. Instead, he walks to his car and signals for me to come.     The car is moving, slowly.     "So, where to?" His eyes switch from the road to me and again.     "Where to what?" I'm wondering what the heck he's talking about. Then I remember, "#22 Georgiana Street, Black and White Townhouse." I state and my voice still sounds groggy.     "Okay," After a few minutes he says, "Must have been some night." I'm not into conversations, at all. Exchanging words is how people lunge at the chance to judge. He already saw me lying on the road with alcohol, now he thinks I'm a big partier. I suppose he is just concerned again. I shake my head.     My street is coming up soon, I did not realize how fast we were going. It felt good, the air I mean. Big supplies of oxygen ramming into my nose and slapping my hair and face. I want to stick my head out the window like a dog. I wouldn't dare stick out my tongue, but I do it anyway. He laughs.     "Well, here you go." I pull my head back in to see my house. I don't know if I should pay him. It's the right thing to do. I'm searching through my jacket pockets to find only three dollars. I try to give him it, but he disagrees. "That's okay." I stare at him in amazement. Everyone exchanges something for something. I could go in my room to get more money, but accepting none at all. Why, that's inhumane! My eyes run wild as I'm thinking. I look back at him, shake my head and slowly get out of his car. As I shut the door he says, "You should take two Advil pills in the morning. It's better to have that and a bucket by your bed tonight to prepare yourself."     He's advising me? Why, we're strangers he shouldn't care what happens to me in the morning; as long as I'm not in his car. He's lucky I did not puke on his nice interior. "Thanks," I murmur and walk away.     "Okay, no problem." He says, I'm turning around wondering why he's so nice. I guess we moved to Richmond, Virginia last year because it has nicer people. But I think we moved to dissolve memories of my dad. I nod my head and walk up to my bathroom, place the pills and water on my bedside drawer and place a bucket by my bed. I fall asleep thinking about this horrible night and this gentle guy.




2

| Email this story Email this Novel | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.