Misty sat next to Tom. Both watching Lacey quietly walk into the kitchen. Where Ronnie was making dinner. "Looks like she decided she's ready." "Looks like." Tom adjusted in his winged chair as he spoke. "You think I need to dress like her and act like her to get his attention?" Tom smirked at Misty. "I thought your mother wouldn't let you be caught dead in gypsy skirts." "Seriously Tom." She hissed. "Isn't it obvious that she's the first girl he's given this much attention to?" Tom looked towards the kitchen, turned back to her and shrugged. "Did you try telling him how you feel?" She ran her hand through her hair. "Like any of you would take any girl seriously if she came out and said she has a thing for you." "This is about you and him. Not any of us. If you're not going to tell him, how do you expect him to know and find out if he feels the same way?" She shrugged. Does he even know what he's talking about? But he did know
Lacey came out of the shower with a towel wrapping her. She made her way to her locker. She blinked once when she saw it was open. She rushed towards it and looked inside. She saw her top first. Picking it up, pieces of the grey fabric fell to the ground. Shocked and confused, she examined it. There were holes in it. She grabbed her skirt and it was the same. Her clothes had been cut. Her forehead creased, her breathing slowly deepened. What the heck it this? She looked up from the mess and looked around. Abby stood with her hands on her hips. A triumphant smile on her face. "Isn't it about time you dressed a little different? We decided to help and speed it along." She tilted her head. Her friends laughing behind her. She held up the scissors. "How do you expect to keep Tate in those rags." She laughed. "I would look for a better word. But they were just as much rags as they are now." Lacey's grip on her skirt tightened. "Your gym clothes were all sweaty. So we took care of tho
She tapped the door lightly and waited impatiently for whoever was on the other side to open up. With her hands in her pockets her feet tapped the ground, excitement running through her like warm water. The door flew open, and there with a smile stood his mother. "Good evening Lacey" his mother greeted. "He's in his room." she said pointing down the long hall way. Lacey nodded and headed down the hall. One more night, one more night and she would be gone for an entire year without being able to see her friends or talk to them. Her parents had said no distractions and she couldn't protest. The others did it already. She stepped into his room, arms stretched out, but stopped when she saw the picture in front of her. Her hands dropped to her sides, disdain in her eyes. "Jody?" She spat out in confusion "and Dennis?" she laughed, denial filling her every thought. Her friend jumped off of her boyfriend's bed in fear. "
Her heart beat faster again as she stepped into the class room. Her eyes cast downward while her art teacher re-introduced her to the entire class. She raised her head sharply and spotted dear Jody in the far corner, eyes bent over her note darting from one page to the other. Then she bent her's again and took the closest empty seat which was the one closest to the door and the first in the first row. She took out her book as the indistinct chatter about her late entrance was quieted down by her teacher. Few moments later the class bell rung, and the entire class began to leave before the teacher could finish his last sentence. Quickly, she got to her feet and followed the crowd out the class and into the hallway. With her books tightly held to her chest, her long flowing gypsy skirt swished as the made her way to her new locker. Dreading coming back to school, she had managed to convince her mother to let
Walking into her room she tossed her bag on her bed and went straight to her reading table, eager to write the things that had filled her mind all throughout school. She pulled her chair and took a seat, moving her laptop out of the way she took out a blue patterned note book and its matching pen and started: -Ialwayswonderedwhatitwouldbeliketodatethemall,theniceguy,thestarycrush,theonetime
She could have just not come, sent a message that she was sick. But it wouldn't change anything. She walked as slowly as she could to her usual class, praying he wouldn't be there. Reaching the door, she peeped in, and was filled with joy at the sight of the empty room. Glancing at her watch for the third time, only now impressed at her accuracy in test taking. 10 a.m and he wasn't here, it only meant one thing, he was not going to be in her class. She smiled brightly at her thought, beaming the smile on her teacher retreating with her test sheet. "You are late. " the words made her heart drop. It didn't have to be. "Get in there." Cold surged through her with that last part, and her body trembled when he walked. Terror kept her from getting up, and now it was too late. He looked at her and she quickly bent her head, hoping to keep it that way till it was 4 p.m. It was a simple plan really.&nbs
Her small fingers pressed the buttons on the game controller, her frustration reflected in it, and on her face, and on her choice of character. Her Ken was taking more than a beating from Akuma. She'd been proud of the damage she'd done in the first round. But she lost the second battle and the third one was on its way to being won by her opponent. Her palms were sweating and her body felt hot with rage, not to mention the deadly scowl on her face and her ever increasing heart beat. Darin watched from the door way. A smirk on his face. Her character's life was very much less than her opponent's and still diminishing. He almost laughed. He knew what was coming, the fight wasn't over and any second she would chug the controller at the TV. He walked closer, his eyes on her, and her eyes darted from screen to controller, screen to controller and then it happened. The howl of defeat by her character. She gripped the controller tightly an
Tom glanced her way for the eighth time in the last minute, she had her head down, she looked deep in thought, with one hand on the staring wheel and the other hand tapping the hand break, he decided to speak up, despite the music playing on the radio the silence between them was uncomfortable. "You know sometimes'sorry'is what a person needs to hear." And with that she raised her head, a questioning look on her face. "The condolence thing." He pointed out. "I mean it wouldn't be okay if no one said anything because the one word wasn't enough, sometimes it's all a person needs to hear to feel like people care you know." She nodded. "It all depends on who you want to say it, just imagine," she shifted her body to face him. "They say it but they don't mean it. I bet Harold told you he was 'sorry for your loss'?" He nodded. "But look what happened yesterday. Would you think he meant it if he ended up s