Life For Fantasy

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

Chapter 7 (v.1) - Say Hello To the Hounds

Submitted: May 23, 2009

Reads: 74

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 23, 2009



“Devin, Devin, sweet heart, it’s time to wake up,” Someone was gently pushing on my arms, trying to pull me out of a deep slumber. With a groan I turned over onto my sides, covering my eyes. I really didn’t want to get up, I was so tired, and it was so much easier to just lie in the warm blankets and go back to sleep. “Come on,” Then the female voice said those magic words. “You’re going to be late for school.” With that I bolted up, pulling the sheets down and rushing up. I looked over at Penny, who just stared at me and I looked down at myself. I’d chosen to sleep in the nude that night, and unfortunately I hadn’t grabbed my cover. I squealed and grabbed a blanket, blushing a deep shade of red.

“I… I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to… Sorry,” I just repeated over and over again, this was a horrible way to start the day. She turned around, laughing and walking to the door.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” She smiled, turning the door knob. “Just get changed, we’re going to leave in about thirty minutes. I’ve made some toast when you’re ready,” she said, and I nodded, still red. After she walked out of the room, I laughed lightly, letting the sheet drift from my body. I picked it up and set it on the bed, not bothering to make it as I walked over to my drawers. Today there would be no dress, today would be a skirt, with a collared shirt and noticeable leggings. Searching through them, I quickly picked out a light orange pencil skirt and a white, sleeveless, button up shirt with a drastic collar. My skin colored stockings felt like silk against my legs, and I slipped on some black heels with a curved toe. Looking in my mirror I examined myself, loving the outfit but hating the missing make up and curler covered hair before walking over to my vanity, gently applying some soft cover up, a little bit of pink lipstick and gloss, black eyeliner, and curling my already long and black eyelashes. I undid my curlers, setting them on the dresser next to the vanity before running my fingers through my bangs and grabbing a black pin, locking them in place. I bit my lip, not trusting it, and grabbed the can of hairspray. Usually this stuff would be in the bathroom, but I did my hair and such in my bedroom, my appearance was my life, if anyone saw how miserable I really was, it’d suck a whole lot. I sprayed, locking it even more. With a satisfied last look in the long mirrors on my closet I nodded and walked out, flashing a dazzling smile at Jeff and Penny. “Good morning,” I said, tilting my curly head to the side. Jeff was in a gray suit, a dark blue tie bringing out the blue of his eyes, and his yellow blonde hair was slicked back, giving him a dangerous, yet sophisticated look. Quite attractive, but in that intimidating kind of way. Penny was washing dishes, tall, high rising blue jeans on her waist with a tucked in plaid shirt. As I walked in, Jeff stood up straight, eyes bulging as I walked into the room.

“Look at you! You look amazing, they don’t stand a chance,” He smiled, and I giggled, looking down at myself then looking back up.

“I feel like Louis Lane!” I beamed, and Penny dried her hands, furrowing her brow.

“Who?” She asked, and I shook my head, remembering that Superman wasn’t famous quite yet.

“Nobody,” I laughed and she shrugged.

“So are you ready to go?” Jeff asked, walking towards me, and Penny smiled, handing me a wrapped up piece of toast and bacon.

“Not without your breakfast!” She cried, wrapping her hands around mine and beaming again. “Oh, you look so pretty! I remember my first days at Churchill High,” A slight dreamy look caught her eye, then she laughed, shaking her head. “Well I’m not going to bother you with my stories, you’ve got to get going,” She smiled, turning me and pushing me towards the door. Jeff laughed, placing his hand on my back and leading me out as we waved goodbye to his pretty little wife. We took the elevator down the four stories, Jeff holding my shoulder bag all the way as I stared at the flashing numbers. He led me out to the car, opening the passenger side door for me and driving me to Churchill. With a smile I climbed out, looking at him and smiling.

“Thanks for the ride, Jeff,” I said, looking at him, then turning back to the school.

“You’re welcome, Dev, I’ll be here about two thirty, ok?” He said, and I nodded.

“Sounds good to me,”

“Good luck, see you after school.”

“Thanks, you too, have fun at work,” I laughed sarcastically, and he did too.

“Knock ‘em dead, sweet heart,” He said, using a pet name that my dad used every once in a while. My heart caught in my throat. No, I would not cry. I smiled and nodded, closing the door and adjusting my brown book back on my shoulder before taking a deep breath. I released it and looked up at the school doors where tons of kids hung around, and a certain group caught my eye as they stood near the left door. All of them were speaking Italian, not that I knew what they were saying, and among them stood the younger boy from the office. My eyes grew wide as I spotted him, then let my gaze lower as I climbed up the school steps, holding my breath as I walked past him. I could feel his gaze on me, along with the rest of them. It was annoying, not intimidating, just annoying. I wanted to, for a bit, turn around and scream at them, asking what their problems were, but I refused the urge. First impressions were the most important, and I wasn’t going to appear as the emotional little white girl. With my head held high and look of cocky confidence spread over my face, I walked into the halls. My eyes grew wide, all of the students had their own clicks. Tan kids were with other tan kids, brown with brown, white with white, and so forth. It was weird. I muttered the class room number under my breath, looking at each door and wondering where it could be. I stayed close to the lockers on the right side, there weren’t many people over there, and I wanted to stay out of peoples way as I stared at my agenda. Suddenly a large hand slammed against one maroon locker, and I jumped, looking up at the sudden disturbance.

“I haven’t see you before,” A tall, broad shouldered boy spoke as my hazel eyes met his green pair. “You new?” He asked, and I smiled politely.

“Um, yeah,” I laughed lightly, looking down at my shoes before looking back up. “Is it that obvious?” He laughed as well, leaning against the lockers.

“Just a little bit,” He smirked, looking down at me, and I knew right away by his clothes and his air what he was. A jock. I didn’t categorize people, but it was just so obvious! I tried giving him the benefit of the doubt though. He looked back down at me, his tall form being at least a foot or more taller than myself.

“Well, can you help the new girl out?” I asked him, leaning against the metal wall. “I need to find rooms 126, 165, 154, and 183.” I stated and he took my paper, lighting up immediately.

“We, newbie, have second, fifth, and lunch together,” He smiled. “Come on, I’ll show you.” He said, and I nodded, adjusting my bag. As I did he took my bag from me. I looked at him, eyes wide.

“A girl as small and pretty as you shouldn’t be carrying this,” he smirked, winking, and I smiled.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it,” I wasn’t here to flirt. In my mind I was still with Michel. I reached for my bag, but he pulled it out of my reach. “Please,” I said, starting to feel uncomfortable. “I want to carry it.” My voice was starting to get stern, and I looked at him, but he avoided my gaze as he messed with me. “Come on, give it here,” I said, stiffening up and glaring. The football player looked down at me, getting a false sorry look on his face.

“Oh, come on, little girl, I’m only having a bit of fun, you can appreciate that,” He smirked, coming down to eye level with me.

“You’ll learn that when I ask you to do something, I don’t like to have fun with it.” I growled. “Now give me my bag.” My voice turned to a growl, and I clenched my teeth.

“Give me a kiss.” He said, looking at me. My glare grew worse as I adjusted myself. I reached for the bag once again.

“Just give it here,” I groaned, as he raised it high in the air, out of my reach. Just then someone came up from behind me, and an accented voice spoke from over my head.

“Give me the bag, Martin.” It said, and I turned around, eyes going wide as the skinny Italian boy glared. His dark brown eyes could kill as they made contact with the bright green. Martin stood up straight, menacing.

“Mind your own business, WOP” He growled, and I just looked from one guy to another, eyes wide.

“I… I don’t want any trouble boys,” I started, not wanting any trouble, but when my ears caught the last part of Martin’s statement, I froze angrily. “Excuse me? What did you just say? You don’t just go around calling people that. Who the hell do you think you are?” I demanded, and without thinking, I shoved him. I believed in equality amongst human beings, and for him to say something like that, well, it was inappropriate. To hell with the fact that he was three times my size.

“It’s ok, Bambina,” The boy said, looking down at me to calm me down.

“No, it’s not ok!” I yelled, this really bugged me, and I wasn’t about to let it go.

“God damn, Newbie, get out of the way,” Martin growled, grabbing my arm and pushing me roughly to the side to get to the Lambardi boy from the office. I cried out as anyone would if they were shoved to the side, and all of a sudden a fist caught hold of Martins jaw. I gasped as I watched the boys, hazel eyes wide with surprise and fear as they wrestled.

“Oh god what have I done?” I asked myself, rushing towards them, but someone grabbed me by the shoulders, holding me tight around the arms to keep me from getting in the middle of it. “Let go!” I yelled, struggling against them as teachers ran up to separate the two boys. As they pried them apart they obviously handled the Italian boy rougher than Martin, but he managed to pull away for a brief moment to pick up my bag. Walking over with a deep red cheek he extended it to me, looking at the mail plate on the strap of it.

“Here, Devin,” He said, and I looked up at him, mouth slightly agape as he handed me my bag. Catching myself staring as I got lost in his voice, I shook my head, looking down a bit before looking back up.

“You didn’t have to do that, I would have gotten it back eventually.” I said quietly, and he shrugged, not smiling still.

“I wanted to show you not all guys in this school are complete cazzo’s.” He merely said before being grabbed by a teacher and led to the front of the school. I stared after him, lips parted and bag clutched tightly in my hands in shock. I looked back over at Martin, who was yelling at a teacher. His eye was starting to get a purpley color, and his lip was bleeding. I looked back down the hall, then back at him, an unbelieving smirk on my face as I shook my head and found my way to my first period English class.

Third period sent me directly to creative writing, and it brought a smile to my face. I got to write, I could write about anything and everything. Edie, Justin, Michel, Mommy, Daddy, Dario, everyone could be a character, everyone could be in it. I could pour my heart out as a journal, and no one would know. I walked into the class room and smiled kindly at the teacher as I walked up to his desk, a young man, who looked at me kindly. “Hello, are you Devin?” He asked me, slightly confused, and I nodded. “I expected a boy, oh well, it doesn’t matter,” He smiled, signing my agenda and looking around the class. “There’s a seat over there by Alessandro’s seat,” He said, and I just stared at him blankly, not knowing who Alessandro was. He looked back up at me. “You don’t mind, do you? Or would you feel more comfortable sitting next to Chris?” he asked, and I just continued looking at him, confused.

“I um, don’t know who you’re talking about,” I laughed lightly, pulling my bangs back as they’d fallen free from the pin.

“Oh! It’s the seat in the back, I hope you don’t mind,” He smiled, motioning to a the desk in the back by the window. I laughed and smiled.

“No, it’s completely fine!” I said excitedly, taking my agenda and walking to the window. This was the perfect spot for a writer. I could daydream out the window, images bouncing in my mind as I let it wander. It was going to be great. Setting my bag down by the leg of the desk, I sat down, looking out the large glass that stretched out over the school yard. The light was just perfect, it was almost like God was shining down on all of us. It was beautiful.

“I didn’t take you for un scrittore,” That voice from earlier spoke, and I looked up at him, confused.

“Un what?” I asked the Italian boy, who I was surprised was even here considering that he’d just gotten into a fight. If that had happened at my high school they would have been suspended from three to ten days each.

“A writer,” Alessandro said, translating for me as he sat down in the desk next to mine. “Or did they just place you in this class because they didn’t know what to do with you?” He set his stuff down and stared at me intently, I just leaned against the wall, facing him and looking at him strangely.

“No, I chose this class. I love to write. And what about you? You like to write or did they do that to you?” I asked him, tilting my head slightly. He leaned back against the metal bar that held the desk and chair together and shrugged.

“It’s an easy grade and it’s my last year. I want to pass.” He said, not really caring about it. “I suck though, so it’s not like it matters. Carmelo only cares that you try. You could write about killing yourself or bombing the white house, he’d and he still give you an A.” I let out a long ‘ooh’ and turned my head against the wall, looking up at the window. We sat there in quiet for a little while, but he ended the silence. “I never got a Grazie, by the way, Bambina,” He said, leaning forward on his seat. I looked at him, wondering what kind of thank you he wanted.

“Um, thanks.” I said curiously, and he sighed. Shaking his head.

“You don’t seem very thankful,” He stated obviously, and I rolled my eyes.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked him, lifting a brow and looking at him.

“I want you to say it like I just beat the crap out of the guy who stole your bag,” He laughed, and I smiled, shaking my head. When I stopped, I looked at him gently.

“Thanks for getting my bag back, you really didn’t need to hit him though, he was going to give it back eventually.” I laughed, and he lifted his brow.

“And you didn’t have to go off on him calling me a WOP,” My face blushed a light red color as he spoke and I shrugged.

“He had no right to. He was a fucking ass hole and you just don’t go around calling people that. It’s fucking retarded.” I said, swearing as the subject caught my nerves again. “Fucking dumb ass,” I muttered under my breath, growling a bit. His eyes grew a bit.

“Look who’s got a mouth on her!” He said, and I laughed. “Bambina isn’t as innocent as she looks,” I laughed and shook my head.

“Where I’m from you’ve got to…” I stopped in mid sentence. Everyone thought I suffered amnesia, and I turned my body away from him, not letting his gaze meet mine. “Never mind.” I muttered, and he lifted a brow.

“Where is that, exactly?” He asked, and I looked at him.

“I um, don’t remember.” I lied, and he tilted his head.

“You’re lying.”

“No, Penny and Jeff found me in the street, I don’t remember what happened,”

“Miss Jones, Mister Lombardi, I know you’re new and trying to get acquainted with your fellow classmates, but I’d appreciate it if you’d stop talking in the middle of my class. Save it for passing period.” Mr. Carmelo stated, and I sunk in my seat, turning another shade of red. I mumbled a ‘yes sir’ and moved my bag. Alessandro nodded, then as the teacher continued talking, ignoring us once again, he leaned toward me.

“What lunch do you have?” He whispered, and I looked at him

“Fifth, why?”

“Same, we’ll talk later,” At that, my stomach churned. He knew I was lying. How, I couldn’t figure out how, but he did. “Meet me by the big palm tree,” I just stared at him, I didn’t really have a choice now, did I?

“Um, Alessandro,” I began, very wary of it all. I was scared a bit, if it got out that I wasn’t telling the truth, that I wasn’t an amnesia victim, then I’d be sent away, and that was the last thing I wanted.

“Miss Jones, Mister Lombardi! I’m going to have to separate you two if you don’t be quiet!” The teacher yelled again and I sunk in my chair again. We muttered our apologies and I opened my notebook, doodling a bit.

“Remember,” Alessandro said, “The palm,” and I just looked at him, rolling my eyes before looking back down at the papers that were connected by a ring of metal bars.

© Copyright 2017 Ashley Marie. All rights reserved.


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