Knock, Knock, Stalk, Stalk

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1) - chapter 2

Submitted: September 27, 2009

Reads: 148

Comments: 4

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Submitted: September 27, 2009

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CHAPTER TWO: Cassandra Brooklyn Beth
 
 
"WHAT ARE YOU looking at? You can’t even talk - so pft to you!” I murmured to King as he sat on my stomach, his paws indenting my skin. His eyes were big amber opals staring at me like a lamb on Christmas Eve, about to be eaten. “Get off, will you, you weigh like a ton!” I pushed the Toy Poodle off my abdomen and to the side of the bed. He yelped and I stuck out my tongue at him.
 
I was cranky in the morning. It was seven-fifteen and way too early for me to be up. School started at eight. “Thanks wake up call!” I mumbled getting to the shower. King followed me in and I pushed him out the door with my bare foot. “Stop being such a pervert, King!” God, sometimes that dog drives me insane. I lived almost alone with King, so we’re sort of best friends…more or less. I swear he could talk. At least I hear it.
 
I opened the curtains and got in, letting the flood of freezing water bask my skin. King used all the hot water last night for his bath. Damn dog. I finished scrubbing my scull like crazy then got out just as the door swished open. I was in a towel and about to scream at King when I realized it was just Brian; my house mate slash other best friend. “Damn, Brian, I thought it was King!” I walked out of the bathroom and to my room, sparing a glance towards Brian. His hair was messy brown and spiked while his eyes were still sleepy.
 
“Sorry toots. I didn’t want you to be late.” He said rhetorically as he smiled crookedly, leaning on my dresser. Anyone would think that if a guy barges in to your bathroom you would freak out, but it’s not that way around Brian. He’s totally gay; he gets a free pass. “Uh-huh. When’s the last time I was on time for school? Second grade?” I rummaged through my dresser, trying to find my favorite pair of skinny jeans.
 
“Hey Bri, can I borrow your skinny jeans, we practically wear the same pants?” I teased, grabbing a denim skirt instead. He scrunched his face in a pout of sarcastic humor. “Ha, ha, make fun of my pants.” I entered my closet, throwing on my cloths for the day, then admiring myself in the mirror. My sleek back hair wasn’t fully dry, my eyes still rung with sleep. Brian opened the door and said “You look beautiful, now can we go? I said I would meet Jeff by the gym.” Jeff is Brian’s boyfriend; I hate that son-of-a “Brian?” I looked up to him, his eye brows plucked up. “What?”  Tell him, tell him you love him! God, Brook, you’re such a – “does this skirt make me look fat?”
 
We walked side by side down the villa, Brian carrying my back pack. My parents were away somewhere in Italy for God knows what reason. I don’t care, I was just glad to be with Brian. “So, you got a hot date with Jeff tonight or what?” I pried, my hair brushing against my cheeks. Brian looked down to me his hazel eyes questioning. “Yeah? Interested in knowing the details?” he smiled sleepily, yawning. I frowned, picturing the details. “Ew, keep you’re gayness to yourself. I just wanted to know if you were busy tonight, I wanted to hang out.” I looked away towards the church on Staples Mill Hill.
 
“Sorry toots, duty calls. Hey, why don’t you hang out with Tom? I think he’s into you.” Brian suggested, adjusting the two book bags on his shoulders. “Pft, Tom? Never in a life time. I love Tom as my friend, but he’s a perv.” Just like King. Brian frowned, slightly pushing me with his side. “Hey, you’ve been single for what, a year now? Surly a pretty girl would get a date, you’re not going bender are you?” Brian uses weird slang, this term, being gay. Quite literally. “No, of course not, it’s just all the guys seem to have only one thing in their mind.” Yeah, good excuse, Brook!
 
Just then, two hands cup my eyes, blinding my vision. “Guess who!” a muscular voice sounded. God, I hate it when guys do gay things like this, even Brian didn’t do this! “I don’t know, Brad Pitt.” I answered dully. “Ha-ha, no.”
 
“If only I was lucky…” I murmured. “Tom, give it up, will you?” Tom Reilly was the average womanizer. He was charming, but boring. Tom had helped me a lot when I was in trouble, but he did it only for something in return, if you get what I’m saying. So far, he hasn’t been paid yet. “Aw, how did you know?” he asked, swooping me from the ground and carrying me bridal style. “Let me down, meat-head, I’m wearing a skirt!” I punched him in his big giant arms, but they must have been made out of steel. “All the better babe!” He winked one of his topaz eyes, smiling.
 
“Man, let the lady down.” Brian stated, wrapping an arm around my waist, and taking me from Tom. He placed me on the ground, patting my head. “I hate being man-handled!” I pout, growing red. Tom laughed a big hoot of a chuckle, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Aw, Brookshires, I’m messing with ya.” Tom smiled, brushing his dirty blond hair back. Just then, I looked up to Brian, his eyes a creamy brown and I silently sighed. I turned my gaze to the side, and saw a small jewelry boutique. A man was running out the door full speed, holding a gun in his right hand.
 
After that, everything happened so fast. I didn’t even realize how I ended up being on the hard cement ground, or how my hair fluttered back as I fell, or the way the back of my scull was pressed to the dirt, or even how Brian’s arms were secured around me as I lay on the ground. I could smell the leather of his jacket, just as I realized there had been a gun shot, and that Brian had covered me from the bullets. Laid on top of me, was the man I loved. The man that was shot.


© Copyright 2020 Sasha Ceaser. All rights reserved.

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