Chapter 1: As Small As An Ants Tear.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 195

A girl that passed by today wore a cross around her neck but held the devil on her fingertips. Most acute on the middle. I'm not one to talk about Religion, not even sure what I believe in or if I believe in a high power at all. Although, I don't think I was born simply to be a skeleton buried in the cheapest coffin my parents could buy. That is if I happen to die before they do. Considering the amount of cigerrates they smoke a day, that most likely wont happen unless I get sick or ran over by a car. Murdered maybe. Rumor has it that theres a serial killer that lives in the neighborhood.
I was sitting on the steps of my front porch eating a poorly constructed strawberry icecream cone. I started searching for ants to pile dirt on so I could watch them dig there way back up. I usually would do this until I started to think about the ants feelings. Does that count as being a bully? I'm sure ants have emotions just like humans, sad because their tears are too small to be noticed. Nobody ever notices until they see you crying.
Jordan was relaxing on his porch across the street and we both waved at each other. I guess that was the signal for him to come over and chat.
"Mercy, What's up?" He reached out with his hand balled in a fist. I went along and pounded it.
I looked up.
"I don't know, you tell me." I responded.
"The sky. Clouds to be more specific."
"As expected. I watched the news this morning."
He sat down besides me scooting closer then usual. Most likely because all his friends weren't standing on his side of the street. I don't see why he comes over here if he's embarresed by me while they're there. They probably think Jordan making fun of me.
"So you managed not to burn that?" Jordan said, pointing to my ice cream.
"How could anyone possible burn an ice cream?" I responded irritated.
"I don't know, your name has to be Mercy, for one."
I laughed under my breathe, shoving him lightly. He was right, though. I burn something almost everyday. Earlier I burned frozen waffles. I doubt it had anything to do with my talent in colinary arts but mostly to do with my bad luck. The bad luck I've had since approximately 17 years ago when I was born purple at Saint Elizabeth Hospital in Lafayette, Indiana as Mercy Virginia Merlow. I'm positive that my doctor gave me a shot full of awkwardness.
I sighed, placing my head on Jordans Shoulder. Shameful. I thought. Sure he was embarrassed by me. I still liked him. Isn't that the american teenage story. A girl likes a boy the boy doesn't care for her. Well, it is different. He has made a move. A few actually. So he likes me... just not enough to admit it. To anyone. So, since he wasn't willing to confront me infront of his friends I wasn't willing to let his moves amplify.
"You smell fruity." He smirked.
"That is was fruit punch does to you. You missed it, earlier I had a red mustash."
He started staring toward me. I looked behind to see if something was there. Diddly sqwat. It was either my usual awkward presence or some act Jordan was odorlessly filling the surrounding atmostphere with. By that time my head was already off his shoulder.
"I know who else you might fancy, this girl that I watched walked through the neiborhood, today. She isn't someone you'd want to get to know. But something to stare at." I said making things even more uneasy than they already were. Well, what they were to me. I'm sure Jordan had something else on his mind.
His look changed to confusion and he sqeezed me cheek. The way a woman would do to her new grandchild. He pinched hard so I smacked his hand away.
He pouted.
"You're so silly, Mercy." He stood up from the step laughing. "Let me have your hand." He said, pointing his arm to me. I obeyed.
"Let's dance." He offerd.
"Dance? With no music?" I asked.
A light hum gradually getting louder escaped through the well closed lips of Jordans mouth.
"How cliché." I said, pulling away from the already forced grip and sway.
Behind us my front door opened and my dad walked out. His face was stern. He was conserned about the boy in the yard.
"Hey, dad. You know Jordan, we were just talking." I smiled. Dad grunted. Jordan figdeted.
"Sir?" Jordan took a few steps up and grabbed my hand. "I was wondering if you'd give me permission to take your daughter on a date." He squeezed my hand with hope. Isqueezed back but harder, more painful.
"Well what did my daughter say?" He questioned. He knew me enough to know I wouldn't be interested too much in Jordan.
It was quiet.
Jordan looked and smiled. I think he thought I was actually into him. I rolled my eyes then shrugged.
"Yeah, whatever." I said annoyed by the two anxious males darting eyes at me
"Mercy, may I talk to you for a second?" Dad said, going back inside the house.
"I'll be right back." I said, patting Jordan on the shoulder.
The moment I stepped on the creeky stair I got a bad feeling in the core of my stomach. I never listen to it though, I just continued. Dad stood in the interence. He swiched his weight to his other leg.
"I don't want you to go out with him." He said bluntly.
"Well, why not?" I ask.
"He's a boy who wants to take advantage of you."
"I have self control, dad." He started to aggrevate me. He promised to let me do my own thing because he knew that I don't make bad decissions.
"Yes, but you're really vulnerable. I just don't want to see you get hurt."
"Why are you being all protective all of the sudden? You know I wont get into any trouble."
"Since, you know, boys. You would always deny them of being with you."
"I'm not that stobby!" I yelled.
"Well you beginning to be more interested in boys. Like, how you stare at that Cotton fellow."
"This isn't Cotto, though. This is a pity date!"
"Mercy, you aren't going out with him, you're too guilible!" He started shouting.
"Wanna bet?" Then I ran outside and grabbed Jordans hand dragging him to his house.
The last date I was on was in 6th grade with a nerdy kid I had a slight crush on. He took me to a pizzaria. I got pizza with extra cheese and he got pepperonii. We almost sharred a strawberry milkshake but he said he was allergic. That kinda shot that in the face. I already had someone in my life who was allergic to strawberries, my dad. That's more than enough. At the time I thought it was literally crazy to not like strawberries. Considering my mom didn't and she's in a mental institute.
I don't know what it is about girls that makes us date the guys our fathers hate. Or date at all knowing that he doesn't approve. I just knew what ever happens I was going to regret it. So I guess I was vulnerable.
"If we are going on a date you should probably wear shoes." He said looking at my bare feet. I wasn't prepared at all. My hair was messy, I had on a purple pair of pajama pants.
"I was hoping just to stay here and have like a movie date or something. You know, indoors." I said with a shy smile.
I should of been causious of my father coming over and beating Jordans door down but I didn't care.
I hadn't actually ever been inside Jordans house before. The walls in his living room were bloody red, which was starting to give me a headache. There was a white leather loveseat infront of the flat screen. Upstairs, he took me to his bedroom where there was a shelf with tons of DVDs.
"Pick whatever you want to watch." He said pointing to a row of chickflicks.
I searched through, passing the chickflicks, horror, comedy. I passed by a couple porn videos trying to ignore what ever may have came to mind. By the time we got to the movie that actually interested me I had to go through the land of three other movie genres. I picked out Grease, A movie I've loved since I was five.
"Classic." He said putting the movie in the DVD player.
I layed down in his queen size bed, rapping my self in his silk sheets and covers. He shut off the lights and sat besides me. I patted on the empty space on the other side of the bed trying to get him to lay besides me.
"I'm going to go get some popcorn." He said jerking himself off the bed as fast as he could. "I'll be right back, make your self at home."
I didn't understand. He brought one girl after the other to his room, making his way with them. Since he wasn't making the first move I guess I had to.
I unrapped myself from his bedding, tripping my way out of his bed. I searched his dresser for a over-sized T shirt and I quickly undressed myself down to my underwear and dressed myself in the shirt. His scent was strongly reconized.
Jordan walked in the room dropping the bad of popcorn. I laughed, biting my lower lip.
"You did say make yourself at home, correct?"
He nodded as I walked up to him placing my face inches from his.
"Who gets to make the first kiss?" I asked, tracing his mouth with my fingures.
He grabbed my hips pulling me closer to him and we rubbed noses. I seen the want, the passion in his eyes. Then he closed them, as did I. His lips tasted like butter and salt. He wouldn't stop, only for short breath takes. Eventually we ended up laying in his bed his hands were on my breast and mine petting his head. Not a word was spoken. We both knew what I wanted and that's what we did.

Submitted: April 23, 2012

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