Check Yes, Tinkerbell

“And in other news, the manager of the hit boy band The Jonas Brothers has reported that the boys are taking a one-year break from touring. The three youngest Jonas boys will be relocating with their parents to Fort Worth, Texas, while Kevin, the oldest, will be staying with his fiancé…” the anchor announced loudly.

I sighed and reached across to my bedside table, switching the radio off. I liked the Jonas Brothers’ music. I didn’t really give a crap about their social lives. I looked back towards my laptop and fought off the urge to just close it and throw it across the room. A few days of writers block was starting to get to me, and I knew that listening to the KBFI 99.6 anchor with the annoying, nasally voice wasn’t going to help. Maybe some caffeine would. I huffed as I set the computer on my bedside table, crawling out of bed. It was Sunday night, almost six. My sisters were all out with friends, fitting in last minute movies and manis with their Bff’s (or taking naps, in the case of Piper). I, on the other hand, was stuck at home, because all of my best friends were grounded. Of course. The one weekend I had absolutely nothing to do, VeeJay sneaks out, Matt has a date and Taylor fails a Physics test.

I slowly walked downstairs and into the kitchen. My mother was already down there, standing at the stove, waiting for the water in the kettle to come to a boil. “No luck?” she asked when she saw me. I shook my head.

“Nope. I swear, it’s like, I ran out of ideas or something. Last week I got one idea after another.” I smiled. “Like that one about Seamus going over to her house and proposing at Hogwarts. But I guess, since this week was so boring I just didn’t have anything to write about.” My mother smiled sympathetically as she walked over to the cabinet and pulled out two mugs. She handed me one as she spoke.

“Maybe you just need an eventful week. Who knows, Phoebs? You could wind up finding love, or being held hostage. Then you’d have tons to write about.” I knew she was kidding, and I rolled my eyes as she poured water into both of the mugs.

“Jeez, thanks Mom. Good to know you’re so concerned about my safety. I’m sure Dad would appreciate knowing you think it’d be useful to my writing skills to be kidnapped.” She laughed. I grabbed my box of special Sugar Free Vanilla Caramel Lipton Tea and her Earl Grey out from our tea and coffee drawer, and handed her the box of hers. We both pulled out a bag and stuck them in the cups.

“Don’t you dare tell your father that. It’d just give him another reason to worry about us while he’s in Tokyo.” I rolled my eyes again, and turned to head back upstairs, grabbing a few of my homemade Lemon Drop cookies on the way. “Good luck!” she called. I smiled and waved my hand behind me as I took a sip of my hot tea, signaling thanks. Going back upstairs, I sat down on edge of the bed and slowly drank, peering around my room. I took special attention to my bulletin board above my desk, studying each thing on it. There was a ticket from warped tour last year, the bracelet from the hospital when I broke my ankle checking the mail back in December, and my certificate from the cooking contest our rec center . Then I spotted an old picture of VeeJay, Taylor, Matt and me from two years ago, at the beginning of our freshman year.

I remember the day we got our yearbooks, after everyone had signed it; I had been flipping through, looking for a good picture of me. Low and behold, on the last page, there was a great picture of the four of us, smiling as we sat on the bleachers at one of the games together. VeeJay’s chocolate skin glowed, and her shiny, dark hair matched her dark eyes, which were staring off at the distance, probably at Blake. Taylor was on the other side of Matt, her dark hair shining like the cover of one of those mags she always carried around, and her Blue eyes squinting in laughter. Matt sat between us, arms slung over our shoulders, and though you couldn’t see in the picture, the reason Taylor and I were laughing so hard was because he had one leg slung over either of ours, his crotch wide open for the entire world to see. If our North Side blanket hadn’t been in the way.

Matt, well, he was just being himself. He was one of those guys that proved the point that the pretty boys are most likely gay. Like his model counterparts always do in magazines, he sported a tight tee and fitted jeans, but his wavy brown hair was styled too perfectly. He was almost as fashionable as me. Almost. That’s when he was going through the whole “See, I’m not the wimpy little nerd I used to be!” stage. Tight tee shirts, well fitted jeans, contacts, the whole schebang. He was also trying to prove that, even though we all kind of knew by then, that he wasn’t really gay. But we didn’t care. And last year, when his Dad’d kicked him out because he came out of the closet, my mom had let him stay here. In my room no less. I think she knew as well that he was more in touch with his feminine side. I’m just glad he never went through the baggy pants stage, like Rosmy’s long time boyfriend (now ex) David did. My mom used to have twisty ties on hand and ready when David came over, just to ensure that nothing that wasn’t meant to be seen got shown.

And then there was me. I sat in between my two best friends in the picture. My then blonde hair, which, at the time, I’d thought was ahdorable, made my face look rounder than it actually was, but my hazel eyes stood out with the small amount of eyeliner I wore. I remembered that when I cut the picture out, I looked on the back and realized that there had been signatures on the page. I had surveyed the writing carefully before I had tacked it to the bulletin board.

“HAGS Phoebe! Don’t ever change! <3 Tami”

My vision diverted to the mirror next to my desk. I could clearly see myself still in the Texas daylight. It shone off my brown, chest length hair, and the eyeliner I wore was a lot more that I would have used during freshman year. I could see the solitary purple streak I had put on the underside of my hair from the view in the mirror. I had changed. I was a different person than I was last year. Granted, my love for reading and writing hadn’t changed at all, but the way I acted and spoke to people had definitely taken a turn for the better, as had my acne and split ends, which I thanked God for on a daily basis. But most importantly, I wasn’t so much the quiet chick in the back of the room anymore. My friends had branched out. And while I still kept the same to best friends I’d had since about sixth grade, my lunch group had nearly tripled in the last year.

I had just finished my tea when I heard a small bleep from my computer. I set my mug on my desk and scooted back onto my bed, grabbing my laptop and yanking it open. It was a new IM from Taylor. Taylor is a close friend of mine. She helps me when it comes to designs and stuff, and she’s always there for me when I need her. The dependable one-like Matt, only with the same anatomy. VeeJay is the wild child in the group. She’s loud and has guys chasing after her like flies-not that she cares. She’s been head over heels for one guy, and one guy only since about second grade-Blake Longhurst. Who, out of the most inconvenient situation ever, also happens to be going out with the “Queen Bee” of the Junior Class, Jade Justin. Double J. Like her chest-the one that guys stare at all the time in class.

Okay, so she’s not thatbig. Maybe D’s. But still. She needs to keep those puppies wrangled in more. I mean, I’ve got large C’s and I don’t go flaunting my cleavage everywhere. Granted, I don’t have the skimpy little cheerleading uniform to show off my oh so tanned thighs or my flat, toned stomach (she says sarcastically-really, I swear, I’m not that flat).

Getting back on topic, Taylor is a relatively new friend. She moved into the district about two years ago, before Freshman year, after the recommendation of her aunt, the Varsity Cheerleading Captain at Westlake Academy, who also just so happened to be the mother of said Queen Bee (Guess who got a lead spot her sophomore year?? Gag me).

One thing I should mention before I go into this, though. Taylor, she’s one of those obsessive Jonas Brothers fans. Like, the reason she was IMing me, I’d assumed, was because of the NewsCast I’d heard earlier. She’s one of those people who would stand outside in below freezing weather just to see their hand sticking out of a window. Come to think of it, she was one of those girls who was outside at that show they did at Nokia in Dallas way back when. Hence…

JonasSweetie312: OMJOMJOMJOMJ!

I blinked. What? Ohhhhhh. Right. I remember. Sarah said that once when we were IMing. Ok, I get it. Oh my Jonas!

TinkerBell14: Jeez! What’s the 911?

She responded immediately.

JonasSweetie312: k, I know u won’t care, but I NEED to tell someone this. And it HAS 2 b someone who WON’T SQUEAL.

TinkerBell14: Uhm...ok. Your secret’s safe with me?

JonasSweetie312: U PROMISE not to tell?

TinkerBell14: Quit it with the caps already. And yeah, I promise.

JonasSweetie312: KK. U will NEVER believe what I saw when I was filing in the office on Friday.

JonasSweetie312: I mean never. Sorry….

I rolled my eyes. Same old Taylor. She worked in the office during her free period filing things for Principal McAdams. I personally know the only reason she gave up her valuable free time is because she has a massive crush on the office attendant during that period, Peter Devane.

TinkerBell14: It’s fine. And what did you see?

TinkerBell14: Please don’t tell me it’s another report on Matt. God knows he can’t get in another fight this semester. He’ll get kicked off the team.

JonasSweetie312: Matt's not in trouble. But, we have a new student coming tomorrow! And he’s in ur 1st period!!

TinkerBell14:That’s it?

JonasSweetie312: NO! I mean, no.

JonasSweetie312: It’s someone who is going to rock the world of every girl at our school.

TinkerBell14:Uhm…ok, I’ll bite. Who is it?

And that’s when my phone started ringing, and I realized it was well past seven, and Sarah was calling to see if I had anything posted.

TinkerBell14: Sorry Tay, I gotta go! Sarah’s calling. Just tell me tomorrow morning, K?

I logged off AIM and answered my phone, and three hours later, I was showered, packed, and ready for bed.

The only thing I wasn’t prepared for is this: That announcement that the whiney, annoying announcer had been making a few short hours ago? That news was going to change my life. Forever.