-
I was sitting in my usual place. It
was my sanctuary, my, clubhouse, my tree.
The big oak sitting in all its glory in my
backyard, shading it all day and protecting
anyone who stood under it from the harmful
rays of the sun. That’s what it really was: my
protector.
When I was little, I would imagine this
tree as a castle, and I would shield it with all my
toddler strength from the evil squirrels and
chipmunks that dare climb its trunk. I would lean
against the protruding roots from the ground and sleep for
hours, at least until my mother came and brought me inside.
When I got older, my tree became a place where I
would sit and do homework, enjoy the view, or just be
alone. The branches were thick and strong, so I felt like I
could trust my tree, and I loved sitting up there. It got to the
point where my mother would ask if I had some sort of
crush on the thing, to which I would reply no of course. But
still, if I could choose to be anywhere, besides France, I
would choose my tree.
Today, I was sitting there doing my calculus
homework. The breeze was soothing, and it would brush
wisps of my dark brown hair in my face. It was in the late
afternoon, so the sun wasn’t very warm, which was good
because too much sun always annoyed me. This atmosphere
was perfect.
“Abby? It’s time for dinner. Are you coming or
should I stick your plate in the microwave?” My mother
called from the back door, interrupting my train of thought.
I sighed. “No, mom. I’ll be right down.”
“Okay then. Hurry up so it doesn’t get cold.” I
heard the back door shut. I started to gather my books and
descend the tree.
My mother, Sabrina Bryne, was a wonderful
mother. Her and I get along most of the time, but there’s
always that “teenager vs. mom” fight that happens between
her and I. But all around, I appreciate her. She worked at the
local hospital as a nurse, so she usually gets home from
work about an hour after I come home from school.
My father, Abraham Bryne, worked in an office
building. He was responsible for making those annoying
long-distance calls, always trying to sell something. He
would always say after a day of work, “How can I help it
that I have to try to earn a living? People make such a big
issue out of one call!” I would just laugh.
I walked inside, dropping my books on the bench
that sat next to the door. I could smell the famous chowder
that my mother made for dinner. The fresh aroma of carrots
and celery filled my nostrils, making me smile. I love my
mother’s chowder.
“Oh, good. You’re here.” My mother said as she
saw me come in. “Could you help me chop the rest of this
chicken so I can cook it? If you don’t, you’ll only have to
wait that much longer for dinner. Your choice.”
I suppose I had no other choice. “Yes, mom, I’ll
help you, but don’t make this a habit. I have a lot of work
too, you know.”
My mother laughed. “Oh yes, my poor Abigail. I’m
so sorry! I completely forgot all about your hectic life.
Please forgive me.” She said with a sarcastic tone.
I sighed. I could never compete with that sarcasm
that she was so good at.
***
My alarm woke me from my happy slumber,
crushing every bit of happiness that I had. The dreaded
tones of the alarm only reminded me of what was to come:
school. I hated it. The only part that I cold enjoy was the
classes, knowing that the more I took, the less I would have
to take in college, which meant that I could have more fun. I
couldn’t wait to go to college. College meant that I wouldn’t
have to endure the lonely lunches that I had to sit through
each day, or the overwhelming shyness that pulled me under
the radar of every classmate.
In my town, the town of Saginaw, Michigan, there
were two high schools in the area: Saginaw High, and
Arthur Hill. I went to Arthur hill the first two years of high
school because it was closer, but then my parents decided to
switch me over to Saginaw High my last year, because it
had better academics. One thing to always know: never be a
new student when you’re a senior.
Today, I ate lunch in the hallway. That was always a
safe place because I wasn’t too noticeable sitting by myself.
It was the springtime, so I had gotten to know most of the
student body, but I never got close to any of them. I suppose
mingling wasn’t my strongest suit. I ate my sandwich,
watching the different couples stroll by, all of them holding
hands, snuggling, or kissing. I wanted to gag.
I have never felt the urge to kiss a guy, mainly
because I never found any of them here attractive or suitable
for my taste. Yes, I would say that I’m a stuck-up girl with
high standards. But I wouldn’t change them just to fit in.
So here I am, sitting alone in the hallway with a
half-eaten sandwich.
After lunch, I headed over to my locker to get my
books. The bell was going to ring soon, and I tend to get to
my classes early. What else am I going to do?
“Ugh, stupid lock,” I mumbled to myself as
I tried to interpret the faded numbers of the combination
lock. It took me a few tries before I could get it and pry my
rusted locker open. I never had any pictures plastered on my
locker door, like all the other girls. I did have pictures of
friends from my old school, but it wouldn’t matter here
since nobody here knows who they are…that and nobody
really came to my locker.
“Abby?” A voice said from behind me.
Well, I can be wrong sometimes.
I turned to see where the voice came from.
It was Janice Dennis, a senior like me. She had blonde hair,
perfected with Shirley Temple ringlets framing her face. She
was popular, and she was preppy, so one could only imagine
my surprise when I saw her there.
“Oh, uh, hi Janice. What can I do for you?”
I asked, hesitant with my response.
"I just wanted to know what our English
homework was for today,” she replied in her perfect
bubblegum voice.
“Oh.” Ah, so that explains the visit. “Um, I
think it was to read chapters two-”
And that’s when my eyes caught sight of a
guy walking down the hall, knocking the breath right out of
me. He was tall and perfect. He had brown hair, just long
enough to cover one of his perfect blue eyes. He was alone,
carrying a book in one hand. I was too baffled to see what
book it was. He seemed completely handsome, but the way
he dressed told a different story: Dark jeans with a Metallica
t-shirt.
A second had passed since my moment of
complete awe, and Janice got impatient.
“Abby? Is something wrong?” She turned
to see what I was gawking at. After spotting the guy, she
laughed once. “Oh, him. His name is Aaron. I guess he just
moved here from New York or something. I can see he’s
already made an impression here,” she said, raising an
eyebrow.
“What? Oh, no. N-no, that’s not it at all,” I
said, stuttering like an idiot.
“Mm hmm…so, the homework?”
“Um, chapters two through five of that
book we started today.”
“Ok, thanks then.” And with that, she was
off to join her clique. I couldn’t stop staring at the guy,
Aaron.
He had stopped at his locker by now, the
one right across the hall from mine. He had put the book
away and started taking out a binder and notebook. Physics.
With a sudden realization I remembered that I had physics
next period. My heart jumped a beat.
Aaron shut his locker and turned to walk
back the way he had come, but in the process our eyes met.
His blue eyes made my breath catch again. Embarrassed
from being caught looking, I turned quickly to my locker,
pretending to find a book. I knew it was safe to turn back
from the footsteps I heard echoing down the hallway.
Quickly, I grabbed my binder and went down the same
hallway, moving as slow as possible.
Most of the people in my class had already
sat down by the time I got there. I scanned the room,
searching for Aaron. My heart sank when I realized that he
was sitting in the very chair next to mine. Taking a deep
breath, I swiftly weaved through the rows to my desk and
sat down, looking straight ahead.
“Hey,” a deep voice said out of nowhere. I jumped a
little.
Looking to my right, I saw those blue eyes again,
boring into mine. He was looking right at me, so I suppose
he was really taking to me too.
“Hi,” is all I could manage to say.
“What’s your name?”
“Abby. I’m Abby.” I could barely keep up with my
brain.
“Hi, Abby. I’m Aaron,” he said, flashing a perfect
smile. I felt like jelly.
“Hi Aaron.”
“Have we met before?”
This question took me by surprise. “Um, I think
your locker is across from mine.”
“I know that, but I’ve seen you somewhere else. A
long time ago.” His brows furrowed together in thought.
“I have no idea. I don’t think we’ve really met
before.” The final bell rang, drowning out the last part.
“I can’t get over this feeling that I’ve seen you
somewhere. Maybe I’ll think of it later,” he said before
turning his attention to the teacher.
I did the same, keeping perfectly still the entire
period.
***
I was online, talking to my old friends from Arthur
Hill. I was telling them about my encounter with Aaron
today.
Ash68: Oh wow, he must have been pretty
gorgeous.
GingerSpice: Yea, I’ve never heard you talk about
a guy like that.
Abs13: Guys, it’s probably nothing. It’s not like I’ll
ever go out with him. He’s not my type, and I’m not
his.
GingerSpice: Uh huh…sure…
I sighed at my computer. I suppose there was no
convincing them otherwise. I was about to tell them bye
when a foreign address popped up on my screen:
A username: “RockBandGeek” would like to IM
you.
Accept?
Confused, I accepted. If anything, I could just block
it.
RockBandGeek: I finally found out how I
remember you.
I frowned at my computer. Who was this? I was
about to block the screen name when he said something
else.:
RockBandGeek: Remember? From class? I finally
figured out where I’ve seen you before.
Aaron. It was Aaron. My eyes widened in surprise.
Was he seriously talking to me online?
Abs13: How did you get my screen name?
RockBandGeek: I got it from a friend. So, do you
want to know how I know you?
I sat there, baffled again by the same guy. How has
he seen me before?
Abs13: I guess…
RockBandGeek: It was in New York. I saw you
with a lady…your mom? Anyway I saw you in a
store last winter. It was in Times Square. Do you
remember? The Virgin store?
That’s right! My mom and I went shopping during
one of our visits to see my grandparents. They live in New
York. He saw me there? He remembers me? How?
Abs13: How do you remember me?
RockBandGeek: How could I forget the one girl
that caught my attention from the newest Metallica
cd?
Abs13: …
RockBandGeek: I’m sorry if that sounded weird.
It’s just that I kind of never forgot your face. It
made an impression. I won’t talk to you anymore if
that will make things better.
Abs13: …
Abs13: I want to talk.
We ended up talking for two hours. Turns out, we
have a lot in common: music, hobbies, and favorite places. I
told him all about my tree, and he said that he would like
to see it sometime. I yawned and looked at the clock:
12 am.
Abs13: Wow…I guess I should be
getting to bed… school, remember?
RockBandGeek: Yea…I guess I’ll see
you in Physics tomorrow.
Abs13: I can’t wait
lol.
RockBandGeek: Actually…I wanted to ask you
something.
Abs13: Sure, what?
RockBandGeek: …
Abs13: Aaron?
RockBandGeek: …would you like to go to a
movie sometime?
My heart jumped again. Was I dreaming now? Was
I seeing things? I couldn’t believe this. I couldn’t breathe.
RockBandGeek: Abby?
I tried telling my brain to type the words, but my
body didn’t want to listen. Finally, I force my finger onto
the keys.
Abs13: A movie would be great.
RockBandGeek: Awesome! I’ll talk to you about it
tomorrow, ok?
Abs13: I’ll see you then.
I fell into bed, breathing hard. My world was
turning in circles, and I was feeling dizzy. A date. Aaron just
asked me on a date. I couldn’t grasp the concept. I was
happy, though. I finally found someone that I could talk to
and hang out with so freely. I liked Aaron, and I’ve never
really felt that way for a guy before. I was wanted. I
wouldn’t have to sit alone at lunch…well if this date
worked out of course, but I had a feeling it would. He
seemed right. I started to think that this school wasn’t as
Bad as I thought it was…
I didn’t get any sleep that night.
- by lildarkangel3001 |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 05/01/2009 |
- Skip
- Title: My RockStar
- Artist: lildarkangel3001
- Description: I wrote this story....well because I wanted to. I really hope to make something out of it, so please comment and let me know what you think!
- Date: 05/01/2009
- Tags: rockstar
- Report Post
Comments (2 Comments)
- BarlowGirl3 - 09/12/2010
- Awesome! I love it. (she has the same name as me. lol) It's also a very well written story. smile
- Report As Spam
- Jenzsy - 05/03/2009
- really nice!
- Report As Spam