My Life As Sienna Brown
Part 45
***the next day***
After school, Frank, Heather and I headed for my house, all our party clothes tucked under the study books in our bags. As you might have guessed, we got home and started blasting the stereo- the Misfits for exact.
Heather, being as jet-set as she possibly can, quickly ran upstairs. I'm guessing it was to get all her make-up and hair accessories in order. But she really hasn't been looking very good the last couple days. She's been paler than normal, and she really hasn't been feeling good- the only weird thing is she's been eating- lots.
Frank dropped his bag on the floor and started writing something on the back on his history book, while I started dancing around the kitchen trying to juggle my many supper tasks at hand.
About twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door and I went to pull back the curtains and saw Bob standing there, smiling through the window. I swung open the door and loudly announced, "Bob's here," and jumped on him.
Frank came running in the room and tackled us both to the ground. "Hyia Bob," Frank said and got up to get back to his history book.
I laid, sprawled across the floor until I remembered about the spaghetti sauce still cooking on the stove and stood up to go prepare the rest of the meal. Bob came in, smelt the air, complimented my cooking; then went to go want TV.
Just as I plopped the spaghetti strands into the boiling water, Gerard and Mikey walked in and Mikey (who hadn't said anything to me in at least the last two days) ran upstairs, probably searching for Heather.
Gerard, being the nice and considerable guy he is, walked over and offered to help with supper.
***
All the extra chairs in the house had been pulled into the dining room, where a long medieval-like table sat. Everyone was crowded around it, passing pasta and salads across the table to each other, deep in conversation. But I did find it kind of annoying that ever since we've gotten home, all Frank's been saying is, "This is going to be awesome."
It was also kind of odd, that since yesterday, I really haven’t heard Heather talk at all. She's really only been sitting around with her head down and only talking quietly to Mikey, and a few other words to every one else.
Bob was filling us in on his super-cool college experience and Frank kept making funny faces every time Ray said something about his little pop-punk band. Because Frank thought he'd seen almost every pop or punk band in Jersey, and never once had he seen Ray's band (not like that's a bad thing).
I was sitting between Bob and Gerard being rather bored. Everyone was talking to each other but me. No one even said anything about my cooking- which I didn't think was that bad.
I pulled back my chair and threw out the remaining food on my plate. I didn't feel much like eating- I actually felt very much that my friends were hiding something from me. I walked outside and sat on the stepped, pulling out a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it. The sun was already starting to go down, and it was barely six-thirty. The air was starting to get sticky, which meant it would probably rain tomorrow- or during the night- but not any time soon; there weren't any clouds in the sky.
"You're starting to smoke more than I do," Frank appeared behind me, making me jump.
"It's just a habit."
"A dirty one."
I smirked, "Look who's talking."
He sat on the steps next to me and pulled the cigarette out of my hand for himself. "That was mine; you could have gotten your own."
He smiled, "But sharing is so nice."
"Whatever," I said, pushing him across the steps. He only huddled in closer and draped his arm around me.
"So... what are you out here for, all by yourself?"
"I don't know, I'm just thinking."
"About me?"
I smiled, "You wish, you know, you're not on every one's mind twenty-four/seven."
He stuck out his bottom lip. "But why can't I be on yours?"
I got confused, wondering whether or not he was kidding. He didn't really sound like he was kidding- but he must have been.
"Anna, you haven’t seemed very happy lately; please tell me what's the matter?"
"Nothing, "I said, changing the subject as I stood up.
"We should go inside before they think something weird is going on. They're probably getting ready now anyways."
I felt so bad like telling him it hurt every time he got too close- knowing that this isn't how we're supposed to be. I felt like telling him this isn't okay. I actually felt like saying 'I hate you', I even felt like hitting him; maybe even punching him for all of this. I felt like telling him he was killing me.
But I didn't- because I always keep my mouth shut, and I suffered because of it. I was the only reason we weren't the way we were supposed to be. I guess I was afraid of what would happen if we did. Gerard was right- I'm surprised Frank doesn't hate me by now. So I walked in the house and ran up the stairs to my room, where Heather was straightening her hair in front of my mirror.
After school, Frank, Heather and I headed for my house, all our party clothes tucked under the study books in our bags. As you might have guessed, we got home and started blasting the stereo- the Misfits for exact.
Heather, being as jet-set as she possibly can, quickly ran upstairs. I'm guessing it was to get all her make-up and hair accessories in order. But she really hasn't been looking very good the last couple days. She's been paler than normal, and she really hasn't been feeling good- the only weird thing is she's been eating- lots.
Frank dropped his bag on the floor and started writing something on the back on his history book, while I started dancing around the kitchen trying to juggle my many supper tasks at hand.
About twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door and I went to pull back the curtains and saw Bob standing there, smiling through the window. I swung open the door and loudly announced, "Bob's here," and jumped on him.
Frank came running in the room and tackled us both to the ground. "Hyia Bob," Frank said and got up to get back to his history book.
I laid, sprawled across the floor until I remembered about the spaghetti sauce still cooking on the stove and stood up to go prepare the rest of the meal. Bob came in, smelt the air, complimented my cooking; then went to go want TV.
Just as I plopped the spaghetti strands into the boiling water, Gerard and Mikey walked in and Mikey (who hadn't said anything to me in at least the last two days) ran upstairs, probably searching for Heather.
Gerard, being the nice and considerable guy he is, walked over and offered to help with supper.
***
All the extra chairs in the house had been pulled into the dining room, where a long medieval-like table sat. Everyone was crowded around it, passing pasta and salads across the table to each other, deep in conversation. But I did find it kind of annoying that ever since we've gotten home, all Frank's been saying is, "This is going to be awesome."
It was also kind of odd, that since yesterday, I really haven’t heard Heather talk at all. She's really only been sitting around with her head down and only talking quietly to Mikey, and a few other words to every one else.
Bob was filling us in on his super-cool college experience and Frank kept making funny faces every time Ray said something about his little pop-punk band. Because Frank thought he'd seen almost every pop or punk band in Jersey, and never once had he seen Ray's band (not like that's a bad thing).
I was sitting between Bob and Gerard being rather bored. Everyone was talking to each other but me. No one even said anything about my cooking- which I didn't think was that bad.
I pulled back my chair and threw out the remaining food on my plate. I didn't feel much like eating- I actually felt very much that my friends were hiding something from me. I walked outside and sat on the stepped, pulling out a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it. The sun was already starting to go down, and it was barely six-thirty. The air was starting to get sticky, which meant it would probably rain tomorrow- or during the night- but not any time soon; there weren't any clouds in the sky.
"You're starting to smoke more than I do," Frank appeared behind me, making me jump.
"It's just a habit."
"A dirty one."
I smirked, "Look who's talking."
He sat on the steps next to me and pulled the cigarette out of my hand for himself. "That was mine; you could have gotten your own."
He smiled, "But sharing is so nice."
"Whatever," I said, pushing him across the steps. He only huddled in closer and draped his arm around me.
"So... what are you out here for, all by yourself?"
"I don't know, I'm just thinking."
"About me?"
I smiled, "You wish, you know, you're not on every one's mind twenty-four/seven."
He stuck out his bottom lip. "But why can't I be on yours?"
I got confused, wondering whether or not he was kidding. He didn't really sound like he was kidding- but he must have been.
"Anna, you haven’t seemed very happy lately; please tell me what's the matter?"
"Nothing, "I said, changing the subject as I stood up.
"We should go inside before they think something weird is going on. They're probably getting ready now anyways."
I felt so bad like telling him it hurt every time he got too close- knowing that this isn't how we're supposed to be. I felt like telling him this isn't okay. I actually felt like saying 'I hate you', I even felt like hitting him; maybe even punching him for all of this. I felt like telling him he was killing me.
But I didn't- because I always keep my mouth shut, and I suffered because of it. I was the only reason we weren't the way we were supposed to be. I guess I was afraid of what would happen if we did. Gerard was right- I'm surprised Frank doesn't hate me by now. So I walked in the house and ran up the stairs to my room, where Heather was straightening her hair in front of my mirror.