Status: Active
Red with Envy
Chapter 4: Restrictions (not done)
"Mierda" Anabelle breathed. "This is your house?"she looked up at the paintings on the high ceiling in awe, looking like a kid having her first bite of chocolate. "I get the feeling that you're about to move in." I joked, leading her up the stairs to my room. "Of course! You're never getting rid of me now!" she said. I laughed, and the motion made me jostle my wrist. The pain shooting up my arm reminded me that I should be upset with Anabelle, not acting all chummy. She saw me wince and fell silent. "Why'd you come over anyway?" I asked, opening my room door. Anabelle looked around my room in quiet amazement before answerinf. "I hate talking on the phone. I prefer face-to-face communication." She sat on my bed. I resisted the urge to yank her up by her hair- how dare she make herself comfortable when I am handicapped because of her stupidity?!
"Okay, well, communicate. Tell me your story." I told her. Anabelle thought for a second. "Why don't we do that whole you-ask-I-answer thing?" I nodded and sat down on my desk chair and spin a little, watching her carefully. "Why did you just come to Dawson prep?" She cocked her head, not anticipating that question. "That's not important-" I cut her off. "I asked it, so it must be pretty important." I snapped at her. With the mere recognition of my pain, we turned back into bitter enemies. Anabelle noticed this and sighed, gearing up for something. She got up and closed my door, then turned back to me. Immediately wary, I backed up. "Stay away from me." I told her. She shook her head. "Forgive me, Isali." Her blue eyes seem extremely sincere. "It was an acident, and you're not dead. Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?" Anabelle is pleading, a desperate look in her eyes. I sighed, not one to hold a grudge. "You are forgiven, Anabelle." She claped and squeaked, and literally bowed down to me. "Thank you, your highness!" My eyes widened at the sight. "Get up!" I yelled at her. Anabelle stood and backed up, dusting herself off. "I must apologize. I may have gotten over-excited." she giggled. I managed to give her a little half-smile. "Friends?" she asked, sticking out her right hand. "Friends." I confirmed, shaking with my right.
Over the week, I was the only one in our clique that had accepted Anabelle. The others- even Kevin, who met her first - ignored her. When she was right next to me, they pretended she didn't exist. Anabelle never stopped being eternally optimistic, even after each rejection. She sat with new friends she made, but tried to catch me in the halls, or before school. I'd shake my head and she's pass me. The day before my date with Alexander, though, I asked Anabelle over to help me decide what to wear. This was the second time she'd been over in a week, and Dasha wanted to meet my new friend. "Oh, Isali, I've never embarassed you before, have I?" she asked rhetorically as she arranged the table. (Honestly, the house does enough on that front-mansion=money=stuck up family. This is why the neighbors shunned us, and those who drove past had jealousy in their exhaust.) Of course, Dasha had never embarassed me in public.
"Okay, well, communicate. Tell me your story." I told her. Anabelle thought for a second. "Why don't we do that whole you-ask-I-answer thing?" I nodded and sat down on my desk chair and spin a little, watching her carefully. "Why did you just come to Dawson prep?" She cocked her head, not anticipating that question. "That's not important-" I cut her off. "I asked it, so it must be pretty important." I snapped at her. With the mere recognition of my pain, we turned back into bitter enemies. Anabelle noticed this and sighed, gearing up for something. She got up and closed my door, then turned back to me. Immediately wary, I backed up. "Stay away from me." I told her. She shook her head. "Forgive me, Isali." Her blue eyes seem extremely sincere. "It was an acident, and you're not dead. Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?" Anabelle is pleading, a desperate look in her eyes. I sighed, not one to hold a grudge. "You are forgiven, Anabelle." She claped and squeaked, and literally bowed down to me. "Thank you, your highness!" My eyes widened at the sight. "Get up!" I yelled at her. Anabelle stood and backed up, dusting herself off. "I must apologize. I may have gotten over-excited." she giggled. I managed to give her a little half-smile. "Friends?" she asked, sticking out her right hand. "Friends." I confirmed, shaking with my right.
Over the week, I was the only one in our clique that had accepted Anabelle. The others- even Kevin, who met her first - ignored her. When she was right next to me, they pretended she didn't exist. Anabelle never stopped being eternally optimistic, even after each rejection. She sat with new friends she made, but tried to catch me in the halls, or before school. I'd shake my head and she's pass me. The day before my date with Alexander, though, I asked Anabelle over to help me decide what to wear. This was the second time she'd been over in a week, and Dasha wanted to meet my new friend. "Oh, Isali, I've never embarassed you before, have I?" she asked rhetorically as she arranged the table. (Honestly, the house does enough on that front-mansion=money=stuck up family. This is why the neighbors shunned us, and those who drove past had jealousy in their exhaust.) Of course, Dasha had never embarassed me in public.