‹ Prequel: A Horrible Romance
A Unique and Torn Romance
Oh my...
Someone knocks on the window and I bring myself out of my trance.
I lift my head and see a blurry Bob. Crying makes my contacts fog up – not from the moist, but from the weird white eye-goo-stuff.
I rub one eye with my finger as I open the door.
“Hey,” he says simply. Nothing else. I kinda appreciate that, even though it makes it all seem a little cheesy. The hot quarterback saves his…
Gosh, what am I saying?
Gosh? Since when do I say Gosh?
I get out of the car with a grunt of complaint. My body hurts and I still can’t believe I used the word gosh.
“What’re you doing here?” I look around as I stretch. I lean my head back and pretend that I’m trying to reach the sky. I always do that. Unicorn-happiness, I guess.
When I look back down, Bob is smirking – looking amused. I laugh quickly – sounding slightly like a squealing pig.
“How was school?” I ask. I don’t remember what his question was, but I do remember that I wanna avoid answering it.
Bob shrugs quickly, before he points at the car behind me.
“The door looks like it’s about to fall off.” I’m about to turn around out of pure instinct, but I stop myself. I don’t even wanna look at that piece of shit anymore.
“Yup. And it won’t start. And the radio doesn’t work. Neither does the wonderfully modern tape-player.” Bob laughs quickly. His entire face lights up and actually shows some emotion. I haven’t really noticed it before, but previously his face has been kinda…monotonous. If you can say that about a face.
“Want a ride home?” he asks, nodding his head towards his car. It’s a nice modern car – real beautiful – but honestly; I like the classic cars. Cars from the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s just have a charm and attitude that I like. They’re awesome for cruising. And I’m much more for cruising, than for racing. Unicorn-speed, I guess.
“What? And leave my beloved car behind?” My voice is sugar-sweet and sarcastic – the sugar will hurt your teeth and the sarcasm will burn your tongue.
Bob only laughs some more, before he turns around and walks towards his car. He doesn’t say anything. Isn’t that wonderful? Someone saying nothing. It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s just that he understands.
I push the car door, but I don’t care if it closes or not. I don’t even bother locking it. No one really ever steals anything in this tiny town, and even if they did steal the car, I couldn’t care less. Then it’d at least be off of my shoulders and on someone else’s.
Just before Bob reaches his car, he drops his keys when he tries to pull them out of his pocket. When he bends over to pick them up, I look. I don’t mind what I look at – come on; it’s completely normal to look at something when it’s thrust right in your face – but I do mind the reaction I have.
I lift my head and see a blurry Bob. Crying makes my contacts fog up – not from the moist, but from the weird white eye-goo-stuff.
I rub one eye with my finger as I open the door.
“Hey,” he says simply. Nothing else. I kinda appreciate that, even though it makes it all seem a little cheesy. The hot quarterback saves his…
Gosh, what am I saying?
Gosh? Since when do I say Gosh?
I get out of the car with a grunt of complaint. My body hurts and I still can’t believe I used the word gosh.
“What’re you doing here?” I look around as I stretch. I lean my head back and pretend that I’m trying to reach the sky. I always do that. Unicorn-happiness, I guess.
When I look back down, Bob is smirking – looking amused. I laugh quickly – sounding slightly like a squealing pig.
“How was school?” I ask. I don’t remember what his question was, but I do remember that I wanna avoid answering it.
Bob shrugs quickly, before he points at the car behind me.
“The door looks like it’s about to fall off.” I’m about to turn around out of pure instinct, but I stop myself. I don’t even wanna look at that piece of shit anymore.
“Yup. And it won’t start. And the radio doesn’t work. Neither does the wonderfully modern tape-player.” Bob laughs quickly. His entire face lights up and actually shows some emotion. I haven’t really noticed it before, but previously his face has been kinda…monotonous. If you can say that about a face.
“Want a ride home?” he asks, nodding his head towards his car. It’s a nice modern car – real beautiful – but honestly; I like the classic cars. Cars from the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s just have a charm and attitude that I like. They’re awesome for cruising. And I’m much more for cruising, than for racing. Unicorn-speed, I guess.
“What? And leave my beloved car behind?” My voice is sugar-sweet and sarcastic – the sugar will hurt your teeth and the sarcasm will burn your tongue.
Bob only laughs some more, before he turns around and walks towards his car. He doesn’t say anything. Isn’t that wonderful? Someone saying nothing. It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s just that he understands.
I push the car door, but I don’t care if it closes or not. I don’t even bother locking it. No one really ever steals anything in this tiny town, and even if they did steal the car, I couldn’t care less. Then it’d at least be off of my shoulders and on someone else’s.
Just before Bob reaches his car, he drops his keys when he tries to pull them out of his pocket. When he bends over to pick them up, I look. I don’t mind what I look at – come on; it’s completely normal to look at something when it’s thrust right in your face – but I do mind the reaction I have.
♠ ♠ ♠
I am pleased to announce that this story is running smoothly! The wheels have been greased and the bolts have been tightened, and not only do I have the next 3 chappies written already, but I also know exactly what will happen in the next 2 that are yet to be written (who knows, maybe I'm writing them while you're reading THIS)!I promise to update more, but if you comment I shall update QUICK!
Yup; I'm a total tease... =D