Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 21, 2005 16:00:38 GMT -5
AUTHOR'S NOTE
This is kind of like Reject (which I thought kind of sucked and I hope this one turns out so much better) in the sense that it takes place before the guys are famous and whatnot. It's also like that in the sense that John Kiftmeyer is no where in it. And in this one they're not 15, they're 17. Got that? Good. Have any questions, feel free to ask. But here we go.
PART ONE: In which you meet the main character and stuff
"You are going to love it here," Jenny sighed, following me up the stairs as I toted one of many huge boxes into my room.
"No kidding," I mumbled. "I only lived in this house the first seven years of my life."
"I keep forgetting," Jenny laughed. Sometimes I wondered why I had befriended such a ditz. But then again, we had become friends when we were 6, and she probably didn't seem so stupid back then.
I had lived in this exact house in Rodeo, California for what seemed like forever. I had always wanted to get out of there, which was kind of weird, seeing as how most people I knew were satisfied with their homes until they were about eleven or twelve, at least. But once my parents got divorced and I went with my mom to live in New York, I decided I missed Rodeo. I mean, the city was great and all, but it just wasn't for me. My mom wouldn't let me go back to California, since she said I would probably get raped just walking down the street or something (she always talked about it like no one ever got raped in New York), so I could only see my dad if he was willing to fly across the country and come visit me, which he did every Christmas and on my birthday. I love my dad, I really do. But when Mom decided to marry this jackass she met at the car dealership, I decided I was going to live with dad. And she couldn't stop me.
Jenny was one of the three friends I had kept in touch with after I moved. She had been the only one willing to come over and help me move back in, although she wasn't doing anything besides telling me about how great Rodeo was, as if she was trying to sell me the house I had already lived in.
"Would you get a box or something?" I asked as I set the box I was carrying on the floor of my room.
"Right. Sorry about that," she giggled, then headed down the stairs. I surveyed my room. God, it had been ages since I had last been in there. I looked at the corner, where I used to keep my Barbie dream house...and the Barbie cruise ship with the built in smoothie maker that I used only once. There was a small twin bed under the window that used to be adorned with pink blankets and stickers all over the wooden frame. But Dad had taken off the stickers for me, since they had been stickers of My Little Pony or Lisa Frank. They would soon be replaced with stickers advertising my favorite bands.
"Here you go," Jenny said, plopping a box down at my feet. I smiled at her. I felt bad, seeing as how she and I didn't have much in common anymore. It seemed that I had changed and she hadn't. For example, she was incredibly excited that the Backstreet Boys were making a "comeback". I, however, wasn't. But that was only one difference. There were simply too many to name.
Jenny was a really nice person, though. But she took it personally when I made fun of her. You have to understand that I'm the kind of person who jokingly makes fun of people all the time. Jenny doesn't get that. Jenny's full name is Jennifer Catrina Tihs (her last name is pronounced "tills"....I have no idea how you get such a pronunciation out of that, but whatever). So I make fun of her last name all the time. For example, I noticed a couple years ago when I was writing her an email from New York, that if you spell her last name backwards, it spells "shit". She wasn't amused. And she gets even more pissed off when I call her Jenny Tihs (which when you say it, sounds like genitles). She wants me to just call her Jen, but I've been calling her Jenny since I met her. I can't just change now.
I headed back out the front door to the moving truck to get another box when two boys my age came sprinting out of the house next door. Neither of them were wearing shirts, and I only recognized one of them. The one I recognized was waving an aluminum baseball bat at the other one, who was running really, really fast.
"Some things never change," I murmured to myself before walking over into the lawn and screaming, "HEY, ARMSTRONG!"
The guy with the baseball bat stopped running and turned around. "Chris?" he called.
"Yup."
"Holy..." He trailed off as he dropped the baseball bat in the street and came running towards me. "Chris!" He threw his arms around me. He was sweaty, but I didn't care. I had missed him.
"Hey," I said.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Moving back in," I sighed.
"No way," he said, laughing a bit.
"Yeah. Mom got remarried to some fuck so I came back. Who's that?" I questioned, pointing to the other shirtless guy that had stopped running and was retrieving the baseball bat.
"That's Mike," Billie said. "He lives here."
"Oh. That's cool. How's your mom?" I had always loved Billie's mom. She was one of the nicest people you could ever meet. Back when I was little, I used to go over to Billie's house. She would give me popscicles and stuff, and she would have me over for dinner. My mom always thought I was imposing on the Armstrongs or something, but they loved me.
"She's pretty good," he said, shrugging.
"And how about your dad?"
"Um," Billie looked at a bush under the window of his house. "My dad died."
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry. When? What happened?"
"Cancer," Billie said. "When I was ten."
"I'm sorry," I said, feeling bad that I had even brought it up.
"Don't be," he said. All of the sudden, Billie was hit on the head with the baseball bat he had been carrying around before. "Mike, dammit!" he snapped, then turned back to me. "You can go inside if you want. I'm gonna beat the shit out of Mike and I'll be right in."
"I have to finish unpacking. I'll take a raincheck, though."
"Okay," he said. "If you want I can come over later tonight and help."
"I don't have that much stuff," I laughed.
"Well, how about you come over for dinner tonight? Mom's out of town, and everybody else in the house is off somewhere. I'll make Ramen or something."
"Um, okay," I said. "Can I bring a friend?"
"Depends. Who?"
"Chrissy? Am I supposed to do all this myself?" Jenny asked from the front door.
"Her," I said.
"Eh, why not?" Billie laughed. Mike ran up and smacked him with the baseball bat again. "You fuck!" he screamed sprinting after Mike.
"I'll be over at seven!" I yelled as he ran off.
"If I'm not home, just let yourself in!" Billie called, still running.
Man, I missed this place.
This is kind of like Reject (which I thought kind of sucked and I hope this one turns out so much better) in the sense that it takes place before the guys are famous and whatnot. It's also like that in the sense that John Kiftmeyer is no where in it. And in this one they're not 15, they're 17. Got that? Good. Have any questions, feel free to ask. But here we go.
PART ONE: In which you meet the main character and stuff
"You are going to love it here," Jenny sighed, following me up the stairs as I toted one of many huge boxes into my room.
"No kidding," I mumbled. "I only lived in this house the first seven years of my life."
"I keep forgetting," Jenny laughed. Sometimes I wondered why I had befriended such a ditz. But then again, we had become friends when we were 6, and she probably didn't seem so stupid back then.
I had lived in this exact house in Rodeo, California for what seemed like forever. I had always wanted to get out of there, which was kind of weird, seeing as how most people I knew were satisfied with their homes until they were about eleven or twelve, at least. But once my parents got divorced and I went with my mom to live in New York, I decided I missed Rodeo. I mean, the city was great and all, but it just wasn't for me. My mom wouldn't let me go back to California, since she said I would probably get raped just walking down the street or something (she always talked about it like no one ever got raped in New York), so I could only see my dad if he was willing to fly across the country and come visit me, which he did every Christmas and on my birthday. I love my dad, I really do. But when Mom decided to marry this jackass she met at the car dealership, I decided I was going to live with dad. And she couldn't stop me.
Jenny was one of the three friends I had kept in touch with after I moved. She had been the only one willing to come over and help me move back in, although she wasn't doing anything besides telling me about how great Rodeo was, as if she was trying to sell me the house I had already lived in.
"Would you get a box or something?" I asked as I set the box I was carrying on the floor of my room.
"Right. Sorry about that," she giggled, then headed down the stairs. I surveyed my room. God, it had been ages since I had last been in there. I looked at the corner, where I used to keep my Barbie dream house...and the Barbie cruise ship with the built in smoothie maker that I used only once. There was a small twin bed under the window that used to be adorned with pink blankets and stickers all over the wooden frame. But Dad had taken off the stickers for me, since they had been stickers of My Little Pony or Lisa Frank. They would soon be replaced with stickers advertising my favorite bands.
"Here you go," Jenny said, plopping a box down at my feet. I smiled at her. I felt bad, seeing as how she and I didn't have much in common anymore. It seemed that I had changed and she hadn't. For example, she was incredibly excited that the Backstreet Boys were making a "comeback". I, however, wasn't. But that was only one difference. There were simply too many to name.
Jenny was a really nice person, though. But she took it personally when I made fun of her. You have to understand that I'm the kind of person who jokingly makes fun of people all the time. Jenny doesn't get that. Jenny's full name is Jennifer Catrina Tihs (her last name is pronounced "tills"....I have no idea how you get such a pronunciation out of that, but whatever). So I make fun of her last name all the time. For example, I noticed a couple years ago when I was writing her an email from New York, that if you spell her last name backwards, it spells "shit". She wasn't amused. And she gets even more pissed off when I call her Jenny Tihs (which when you say it, sounds like genitles). She wants me to just call her Jen, but I've been calling her Jenny since I met her. I can't just change now.
I headed back out the front door to the moving truck to get another box when two boys my age came sprinting out of the house next door. Neither of them were wearing shirts, and I only recognized one of them. The one I recognized was waving an aluminum baseball bat at the other one, who was running really, really fast.
"Some things never change," I murmured to myself before walking over into the lawn and screaming, "HEY, ARMSTRONG!"
The guy with the baseball bat stopped running and turned around. "Chris?" he called.
"Yup."
"Holy..." He trailed off as he dropped the baseball bat in the street and came running towards me. "Chris!" He threw his arms around me. He was sweaty, but I didn't care. I had missed him.
"Hey," I said.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Moving back in," I sighed.
"No way," he said, laughing a bit.
"Yeah. Mom got remarried to some fuck so I came back. Who's that?" I questioned, pointing to the other shirtless guy that had stopped running and was retrieving the baseball bat.
"That's Mike," Billie said. "He lives here."
"Oh. That's cool. How's your mom?" I had always loved Billie's mom. She was one of the nicest people you could ever meet. Back when I was little, I used to go over to Billie's house. She would give me popscicles and stuff, and she would have me over for dinner. My mom always thought I was imposing on the Armstrongs or something, but they loved me.
"She's pretty good," he said, shrugging.
"And how about your dad?"
"Um," Billie looked at a bush under the window of his house. "My dad died."
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry. When? What happened?"
"Cancer," Billie said. "When I was ten."
"I'm sorry," I said, feeling bad that I had even brought it up.
"Don't be," he said. All of the sudden, Billie was hit on the head with the baseball bat he had been carrying around before. "Mike, dammit!" he snapped, then turned back to me. "You can go inside if you want. I'm gonna beat the shit out of Mike and I'll be right in."
"I have to finish unpacking. I'll take a raincheck, though."
"Okay," he said. "If you want I can come over later tonight and help."
"I don't have that much stuff," I laughed.
"Well, how about you come over for dinner tonight? Mom's out of town, and everybody else in the house is off somewhere. I'll make Ramen or something."
"Um, okay," I said. "Can I bring a friend?"
"Depends. Who?"
"Chrissy? Am I supposed to do all this myself?" Jenny asked from the front door.
"Her," I said.
"Eh, why not?" Billie laughed. Mike ran up and smacked him with the baseball bat again. "You fuck!" he screamed sprinting after Mike.
"I'll be over at seven!" I yelled as he ran off.
"If I'm not home, just let yourself in!" Billie called, still running.
Man, I missed this place.