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Post by mala1152 on Apr 30, 2011 21:00:01 GMT -5
so, this is gonna be my new series, with all new characters and plots, and i hope you all enjoy it as much as the "interrupted" series! im still a little iffy about the title, though ... oh well, doesnt matter. ill hopefully be updating a lot more frequently than i did with my other stories. and, as im reading over my story one more time, i realize that some parts are a little cryptic, and the full story is never quite there. well, be patient with it, i promise that it all gets cleared up in the end. with a little twist, i might add ... but your guesses are welcome! anyway, without further ado, here is my new series!
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Post by mala1152 on Apr 30, 2011 21:03:14 GMT -5
ah, new beginnings...
Chapter 1
“Ssh, sssssh, Callan, sshhhh,” I tried to soothe my ten-month-old baby brother, who was spooked by the thunder. “Ssshhhh, it’s alright, see? We’re almost back home.” I tried to take advantage of the temporary sunshine to take Callan for a walk, hoping that it wouldn’t rain. Why I would bother to pray for such an impossible thing is beyond me – this is Ireland. It rains. I finally pushed Callan in his stroller up the driveway a few minutes later. It was too bad that we did not make it to the park before the rain started – he would have liked that. Instead, I had to take him home and watch him crawl on the carpet, taking special care to keep sharp objects away from his head and putting away little items he could choke on and make sure to change his poopy diaper and not let him too close to the stairs and…. The list goes on and on. My mom and dad were so particular when I watched Callan, who was almost seventeen years my junior, that I wondered how they ever raised me without having an older sister/babysitter around constantly monitoring me. I was kind of glad for it, though; I already hated being scrutinized by my friends and parents and even strangers, for something that happened so long ago… I shook my head, scrambling the unpleasant thoughts. I could not let myself get distracted while watching Callan, which was a full-time job in itself, or else my parents would have a fit if they found out. After unbuckling Callan and taking him out of the stroller, I carried him into the house through the garage while he tugged on a strand of my long blonde hair. “There ya go,” I told him, taking off his shoes and coat so he could crawl to the living room. “Mollie?” called an old, gravelly voice. “Is that you?” “Yeah, Granddad,” I answered back in my accented voice. Turning the corner into the living room, I saw Granddad lazily flopped on the couch, flicking through the channels. “When did you get home?” I asked him. “I thought you were out at the mall walking.” “Nah, that got boring,” he grumbled. “Granddad, you shouldn’t be sitting on the couch all day, Mum said you need to-” “Mollie, I’m eighty-one years old, give an old man some peace already!” he joked. I laughed. “Alright, fine, but don’t expect me to cover up for you again. Last time Mum saw right through me.” My mom was a nurse, and she kept saying that if Granddad didn’t take a walk every day, he could have blood clots and a bad heart and God knows what else. “Well, then don’t stick around for when she comes home,” he grumbled. “I have to. I’m babysitting.” “Let me watch the kid.” We both turned to look at Callan, rolling lazily on the floor, dripping some kind of goo. He seemed easy enough to manage that even Granddad could watch him. “Where exactly do yeh think I’m gonna go, even if ya do kick me out?” I asked. “Out,” he said simply. “You can’t stay cooped up in the house all the time. You’re young, so go out and…be young!” “Young people can stay home, too, ya know.” “Mollie,” said Granddad seriously, “I know that it hasn’t been ea-” “Okay, okay, I’m going! God…” I said, getting an attitude with Granddad that I would never have been allowed to get away with if I was talking to Mum or Dad. “Mollie, I’m just saying-” “Yeah, I know what you’re saying, Granddad. I get it. Where are my keys?” I located my keys and threw my jacket on, begging now to get out of the house to avoid having this conversation once again. Despite my attitude, Granddad gently said, “Don’t be out too late.” I turned to give him a snappy reply, but I saw The Look on his face. I’d grown accustomed to The Look whenever people scrutinized me, but with Granddad, it was different. His Look was genuine, a Look of real concern mingled with empathy. It was probably because he had seen his share of Looks when Gran died a few years back, but still, there was something in his compassionate, wrinkled face that warmed my heart every time. “I won’t.” I turned on the spot to avoid any more awkwardness, but thought better of it and said, “Watch out for a poopy diaper. The kid had a monstrous lunch.” And then I left. I would have preferred to run someplace instead of drive, but the cold rainy weather prevented it. Running was a habit I picked up last year, shortly after… No. Don’t go there, I chided myself. I sighed, and then sped off down the street, my car taking me wherever I needed.
so? what do you all think so far? comment adn reply, just like always! thanks for reading! more to come!
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Post by mala1152 on May 1, 2011 13:25:48 GMT -5
im glad you guys like it so far! enjoy this update, because i probably wont be updating for the rest of the week. (you can thank my english teacher for that; she assigned a huge research paper!) anyway....heres the next chapter.
Chapter 2
I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. So why did I bother coming here in the first place? I thought to myself as I sat in my car in the Starbucks parking lot. This place was the place we had first met, where we shared little bits of ourselves over the course of a whole year, a place full of memories for the both of us. Well, just the one of us, now… So yes, this was definitely very difficult. Come on, I urged myself. The old Mollie wouldn’t have let something so trivial stand in her way.Yeah, well, that’s why she was the Old Mollie, and I’m the New Mollie. There are differences. Oh, well, suck it up and get your freezing, wet butt inside. I was pretty good at giving myself pep talks; it was something I had mastered over the past few months in order to get over the incident, and one of the ways I dealt with The Look. My feet slowly, but surely, led the way into the coffee shop. Most nobody knew about this Starbucks, since it was hidden behind a lot of other bigger retail clothing shops. I used to be recognized as a regular customer here, back when I came here all the time. Way back when… No, don’t even go there. It’s over. I opened the door. Some holiday bells jingled, even though the holidays ended over a month ago. I glanced around the small shop, and it was mostly deserted, aside from two others who were here. A middle-aged businesswoman on a laptop, and a dark-haired teenage boy sitting reading by the window. “What can I get you?” asked an unfamiliar barista. “Um…a grandé, soy, extra-hot caramel macchiato. Extra caramel, please.” My old usual. “Sure. 2.65 is your total.” I handed him 2.65 pounds, and read the horoscopes while I waited for my drink.
The horoscope for Libra: Now could be the time to make that date and take that risk with someone you've been keeping your eye on. Something unfamiliar seems more attractive to you than ever. Also, this can be a time when you are forced to deal with a large issue in your life; take time to reflect on it, and don’t be afraid to take chances confronting it.
“Here’s your drink, Miss.” “Thanks,” I said. “Have a nice day.” I was ready to leave; I had walked enough on memory lane today, but something kept me there. Maybe it was my ominous but completely false horoscope, but I just could not force myself to go back home yet. So, I sat down at a table far from the door and gazed out the window. I put my jacket on the back of my chair and settled in for a quiet, relaxing time with my caramel macchiato. Then, I realized, that my only company was my caramel macchiato. How lonely I felt, chasing after some stray memories in an obscure Starbucks, with no one to talk to except myself. Kind of pathetic. “Need some company?” asked the dark-haired youth I saw when I walked in. “Uh…” I began, irked that he pulled me from my thoughts. With a small chuckle, I realized that my thoughts had been only about loneliness, and here was this boy, a nice, average boy, who was kindly offering me some company. I had to accept! “Uh, sure. That’d be nice.” Only when he sat down with his book and venti drink did I get a proper look at him. How I ever thought he was average, I will never guess. He was anything but. A tall boy of 18 or 19, he had a kind, round face and dark brown spiky hair. He looked mature and smart, and young and childish all at the same time. He had broad shoulders and muscular arms, and carried himself well. His welcoming smile showed off his perfect white teeth, and his strong, large hands folded gracefully on the table. He had a charming air all about him, but that was not even his most striking feature. His eyes! I might as well have never seen the color blue before, that’s how blue they were. Framed with thick eyelashes, his piercing blue eyes peered at me, and their brightness and intensity took my breath away. They were brighter than the sky, possibly brighter than the sun, with a unique color of pure sapphires. “I-I’m Mollie,” I managed after a few seconds. He hardly noticed me gazing at him, but I noticed him looking at me. It made me a little uncomfortable at first, but once I saw that The Look remained completely absent from his face, I eased up a little. “I’m Damian,” was his reply. Even his voice was perfect! Deep and smooth, it reminded me of sitting before a fireplace on a cold, Derry day, and being warm and cozy. It fit the setting nicely. “So,” I began after a few moments of awkward silence, “How did you find this place? Nobody knows this Starbucks is even here.” “Oh, this place and I go way back,” Damian said with an airy toss of his hand. “I went for a run one day, kinda got lost, and ended up here.” “What do you mean, ‘kinda got lost?’ Either you get lost, or you don’t,” I laughed. “Well, somebody told me their route they usually take, and I tried to take it, but…” “But it obviously didn’t work out.” “You could pu’ it that way, yes,” answered Damian easily. It was pretty easy talking to him, something I did not expect. “So, how did you find it?” Scratch that. Talking to him just got that much more difficult. “Oh, well, I-um…somebody brought me here once and showed me the way.” “Oh,” was all he said. I think Damian could feel my tension, my hesitation in answering that question. He just did not know why, didn’t know that the ‘somebody’ was – “Yeah, that’s definitely not as interesting as ‘kind of getting lost’ and finding it, but it’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it,” I joked, sliding over the awkwardness of my past comment. It was easy to do, maneuver around the sticky patches in a conversation when The Incident almost came up. Because following the telling of The Incident came The Look, and I just could not deal with that today. “If you say so,” replied Damian, seemingly oblivious to my cover-up. Or was he? I had a feeling that those penetrating blue eyes saw more than they let on. Feeling uncomfortable and sensing that I had enough emotional trouble for one day, I stood from my chair in a bit of a hurry. “Well, I should probably get going,” I said as Damian looked confused. “Maybe I’ll see you around here again sometime?” he asked. I was about to brush him off, give him a vague answer, or maybe tell him that I wasn’t really looking for a relationship right now, but I decided on giving him the truth. “I hope so.” And I turned and walked out the door.
whatd ya think? any guesses about anything yet? do your thing, reply reply reply! thanks for reading!
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Post by mala1152 on May 10, 2011 19:54:48 GMT -5
sorry, all, for the long wait. here's the next bit.
Chapter 3
“Mollie?” my mom knocked on my door the next morning, Sunday morning. “Can you wake up please? I need you to watch your brother. I have to head to work.” “Sure,” I said groggily, not fully awake. What a way to spend a weekend – watching a ten-month-old drool monster all day. Not that I minded, I loved my brother; I just wished I had some alone time, even if my company was barely able to walk and talk. Mum flicked on the light switch, which shocked my weary eyes. “There ya go, little man,” she said, setting Callan down on my bed. “Have fun with your sister today!” To me, she said, “Are you planning on going out with him at all today?” “Yeah,” I replied, more awake now, and trying to keep Callan from falling off my bed. “I left my coat at Starbucks yesterday, so I have to go see if it’s still there.” “Starbucks?” said my mom. “Which Starbucks?” “Mum, you know the one,” I snapped. I so did not want to have this conversation today, about how it was a ‘big step’ to go to when the place held so many memories for me. Painful memories, of him, when we were… “Are you okay?” she asked sympathetically, and when I looked at her face, there it was – The Look. Even though it did not annoy me when Granddad wore it, it bugged me when Mum did. “Yes, Mum, I’m fine! Why do you care if I take Callan out?” She snapped her face back to normal, and said, “I want you to bundle him up – the weather’s getting pretty bad, it’s supposed to snow today.” Of course it was supposed to snow; it was February in Ireland, for God’s sake! “Alright, I won’t forget.” “Thanks. Have a good day,” my mom said, and left without a response from me. When I heard the door close, I looked at Callan, who was sucking on his hand, drool dripping down to my blankets. He was staring at me with the green eyes we both inherited from Dad, and from Granddad before him. “What’re you lookin’ at, huh?” I joked with Callan. He continued to stare. “I said, what’re you lookin’ at?” I tickled him to finally get a response, which was his delighted giggle that bounced off my bedroom walls. “Alright, buddy, let’s get you dressed,” I said as I picked him up and carried him to his room. It was a morning such as this, blustery and cloudy with no rain yet, that I usually went running. I obviously couldn’t today because I had to watch Callan, but I was pining to run my route. I usually ran three miles or so, but today I thought I could do at least five. Ever since my rogue visit to Starbucks yesterday, I had been itching to get outside and run, just go wherever my legs feel like taking me. I like the feel of the ground beneath my tennis shoes, and enjoyed the forceful thudding sound it made when my feet hit the pavement. My breath would come out ragged, but if I really concentrated on it, I could keep it even and feel it deep in my lungs. Running made every muscle, every inch, every cell of my body feel alive and rejuvenating after such a tough few months. My body would constantly be in motion, a rhythmic pattern that gave my mind all the space and time it needed to think. The faster I ran, the faster my thoughts bounced around my head. The longer I ran, the more time I had to think. But eventually, I would slow down with a pain in my chest, a cramp in my calf, or a reason to return home, and I would convince myself to run back home for a cool down and a stretch. I never ran for school; the idea of competition did not really strike me for something so therapeutic. So later that morning as I was getting Callan ready to go to Starbucks and I slid on his tennis shoes, I was eager to do the same. However, there was a time for everything, and now was not the time for running. Now was the time for retrieving my jacket. And then….well, I’d figure out what we would do after that. We still had the whole day ahead of us, seeing as it was only ten o’clock. I was worried again about walking into Starbucks and all the pain it was dredging up for me, but holding Callan in his carrier gave me something else to focus on. I walked straight up to the counter, not even bothering to glance around for my coat, and asked the barista if he had seen it. “Nah,” he said. He was a different barista than yesterday. “Didn’t see anything like it. Sorry.” “That’s okay.” “Can I get you anything?” I ordered my caramel macchiato, same as yesterday, and read my horoscope again.
Horoscope for Libra: Today may be a bit challenging to your personal relationships. Differences are likely to be difficult to resolve. You may find yourself unable to express your true feelings about anything. Try to keep things light during this period. Soon the path before you will become clearer and you will feel far more connected to those you love.
“There ya go,” said that barista, handing me my drink. “Thanks,” I said, and I turned to leave, but I caught sight of a certain someone in my peripheral vision.
more to come shortly! be on the lookout for another update this week. thanks for reading, and comment as you wish!
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Post by mala1152 on May 13, 2011 20:59:19 GMT -5
oh, how i love fridays... in honor of the wonderful day, here's an update!
Chapter 3 con't
“Looking for this?” asked Damian, sitting at the same table as yesterday with my coat in hand. “Um, yeah, actually. Thanks.” He handed me my coat, and I set Callan’s carrier down to put it on. “Who’s this?” asked Damian, smiling down at Callan. “Oh, that’s my brother, Callan.” “Hey there, Callan, what’s the craic, man?” Damian cooed at my brother, sticking his tongue out and making him laugh. “He likes you,” I said with a chuckle. His responding smile was dazzling, but I barely noticed. Damian tugged his gaze away from Callan. “Sit down,” he offered, and I took my same seat from yesterday. “How old is he?” asked Damian. “Ten months.” “Oh, wow, he has your eyes,” he murmured, then looked into my eyes as I looked at his. They were as bright and as blue as ever, and they reminded me of the ocean. “Um, yeah,” I said, looking away blushing. He was definitely charming! “My Granddad has the same eyes, and so does my dad. But Callan looks more like my mum, I think.” “Hm,” Damian replied, now reaching town to tickle him. “Do you wanna hold him?” I asked. Mum probably would not like it, seeing as I barely knew Damian, but I saw no reason not to. “Sure!” I unbuckled my brother and passed him gently to Damian, whose big hands gently lifted him to his knee. Damian definitely seemed to be good with kids, for now Callan was laughing at the funny faces Damian was making at him. “Do you have any other siblings?” he asked me. “No, it’s just him and me. Yeah, I know there’s a wee bit of an age difference.” “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he chuckled, bouncing Callan on his knee. “Well how ‘bout you? Any siblings?” “Two. An older brother ‘n sister. But they’re no fun anymore. Callan’s probably loads o’ craic, aren’t ya, big guy?” I giggled. It was kind of strange to see Callan entertained by someone other than me; I bet I got pretty boring to a ten-month-old boy. I checked the clock on the wall to my right: ten thirty. “Do you have to go?” asked Damian, and I could swear he sounded disappointed. Probably because of Callan, I told myself. “No,” I replied. “I’m good on time.” He smiled.
After another half hour, I’d learned a lot about Damian: he was currently part of a music group called Celtic Thunder, had been to America four times already, his last name was McGinty, he supported Manchester United (I was very disappointed in him; I myself was a Chelsea fan), loved chili, had two siblings, drank vanilla lattés at Starbucks, liked Michael Bublé (I nearly choked on my macchiato at hearing this; I simply adored Michael Bublé), goes to the gym at least twice a week, yet loves having a good lie in bed, and is in his first year of college (one year ahead of me). It was surprisingly easy to talk to someone that I just met yesterday. I had become more introverted than ever, spending most of my time with only two or three close acquaintances, over the past few months, ever since… Nuh-uh, I scolded myself again. Don’t even go there. And so I didn’t go there, not for the rest of the day. But when I went to sleep that night, I went there in my dreams. I could see… I internally stammered over his name, it gave me so much pain to think about… I could see him in my dream, slipping away slowly at first, but then disappearing altogether in the blink of an eye. Just like reality. My eyes snapped open that Monday morning, waking from my nightmare. Checking my clock, I saw that it was 5:15, over an hour before I usually awoke for school. Oh well, I thought, and I rose to begin my day. I read a book for the better part of an hour, then went and got Callan when he woke up crying at about six. By the time I changed him, fed him, and got myself ready for school, it was just past 6:30. School started at eight. What was I going to do for an hour and a half? The answer seemed so simple; it was like it was staring me in the face. When Mum walked into the living room, I handed her Callan and said, “I’m gonna head to Starbucks before school. See ya later,” and rushed out the door. On the way there, listening to music in my car, I thought of how much I actually enjoyed my visit there yesterday. Being with my thoughts was nice, and talking to Damian definitely had its perks. Sure, I was hoping to see him there, but not like that. I liked him, but we were friends. Maybe not even friends; I had barely talked to him for an hour. And anyway, I wasn’t ready for a relationship, not after… I parked and walked in, perhaps a little too quickly. As soon as I passed through the doorway, whipped my head around to our – I mean my – usual table, only to see it empty. I walked up to the counter with a little less pep in my step and ordered from the same barista as yesterday. I paid for my caramel macchiato and sat at my usual spot, staring out the vast window despite bringing in a book. That got pretty old after a few minutes, so I settled in to read for a bit. “Get stood up?” asked the barista as he cleaned a steaming machine. The Starbucks was empty, as it was barely past opening time. “What?” I asked, puzzled. “Oh, no, I just came by myself.” “Oh. Sorry.” Then he went in the back and did not come out again for a while. Why would he think that I got stood up? Who could I be waiting for? He couldn’t assume that Damian and I were… No, we weren’t! I was not even in denial, there was seriously nothing going on. We just met, for crying out loud! I felt like shouting at him. After mulling it over for a few more moments, I found it comical that people could jump to such wild conclusions. A little chuckle to myself, and I continued on with my book, and with my day.
soooo... whaddya think? i love reading your comments! itd be nice to see some new people comment as well. keep reading and replying, i love it when you do!
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Post by mala1152 on May 19, 2011 5:39:08 GMT -5
you can stop your chanting, heres an update! sheesh, people, patience is a virtue...
Chapter 4
“Mollie, again,” commanded by best friend Riley. “Riles, I already told you everythin’. Besides, it’s not even that big a deal.” “Mollie,” she stressed. “Again.” I sighed, then told her about my adventures into Starbucks, skipping over the parts about the memories that haunted me, and mentioning that I met Damian there twice in two days. She seemed to get hung up on that part, her gray eyes lighting up as soon as I brought him up. “Who? What? When was this? What did he look like? Did he say anything? How did he know to meet you there Sunday? Answer me, woman!”“Geez, calm down,” I said. “You make it sound so – so…” “Because it is!” Riley exclaimed, her bright red head nodding in agreement. “It’s really not,” I reasoned. “Molls, I know that you’re probably not – not over…not over him yet, but I think that this is a good thing. Meeting someone, I mean.” I cringed. This was the conversation I had successfully avoided with Granddad and Mum, and now I had to wiggle my way out of having it with my best friend, too. “Could we not, please?” I begged; it still hurt too much to talk about. “Sorry.” Riley thankfully kept her mouth shut as I described Damian and our encounters in detail, after much prompting and pouting on her part. “Wow,” was all she said. “He sounds wonderful!” “Yeah, I guess,” I shrugged. I did not really think more of Damian after I sat by myself in Starbucks on Monday, and I hadn’t returned in the four days since. “Ugh, Mollie…” she said despairingly. “What?” “You know very well what.” “Really? I do?” I snapped. Riley sighed. “Do you always have to be so…so blah about everythin’? You meet this great guy, and all you have to say about it is ‘Yeah, I guess?’ I mean seriously, when was the last time you got excited over something? I mean really excited?” I pondered that for a second. I couldn’t even remember. “Exactly. You never look at a good opportunity as a good opportunity. It’s just so…blah!” When I was silent (since I knew she was right), she continued. “Look, I know it’s been hard for you-” “No, no, no, no, no! I thought we weren’t gonna go there today!” I cried, firing back up at once. “But you need to hear this, so I’m goin’ there. I know it’s been hard, but you haven’t exactly handled everything well.” “Riley, not now!” I yelled at my friend for putting me through this. Again. She should know better than to provoke me this way! At the moment, I could not feel my legs, my heart felt cold, and I got goosebumps up my spine. My face looked angry, but inside I was sad, devastated at the recollection of the events in discussion. “But you’ve been draggin’ through everythin’ for over two months now!” she continued, oblivious to my deteriorating mental and emotional state. “I get it, I know how close you and him were, but-” “Close?” I exclaimed. “Close?! Riley, I loved him!” “I understand,” she said, “But just because he-” “Riley, please?” I begged, tears filling my eyes. She finally quieted and stopped badgering me. I looked into her eyes for the first time, and saw them soften. Turning away, I hastily wiped my eyes and controlled my breathing, refusing to look at her. After a pause, she gently said, “Molls? Mollie – I’m so sorry.” She tugged lightly on my shoulder to give me a friendly hug of sorrow and apology, but I shook her off. “No, no, I’m fine,” I lied. “I’m sorry,” Riley repeated. “Don’t worry about it.” Silence ensued. “Mollie?” she asked after minutes passed. “M&M?” she called me by her nickname for me, from our favorite candy and my initials. M and M for Mollie McClanahan. “Talk to me.” “Why? I’m fine now. Just – don’t try so hard next time, ‘kay?” “Sure,” she replied, looking resigned. When leaving later that Friday evening, I knew that Riley had been right. I had handled things terribly for the past two months, and now she was paying for it as well as me. I became so introverted, which left me with fewer close friends, and even bringing up The Incident was considered a taboo in my mind. Firing up my car, I realized that I couldn’t just ignite my emotions and stop being so ‘blah,’ as Riley called it; it was going to take time, much more time, to make that little bit of progress. I sighed. Unfortunately, I had nothing but time.
maybe ill be nice and update again this weekend... keep replying and commenting and... chanting? no, no chanting, please, but the comments are most welcome!
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Post by mala1152 on May 21, 2011 20:56:36 GMT -5
well, im in a pretty good mood from damian's "the glee project" appearance and from how many views my story has gotten so far! thank you so much! so, due to my wonderful mood, here's an update!
Chapter 5
Days passed, and after my little breakdown at Riley’s the other day, I hadn’t even considered going back to Starbucks. That is, until I had my will forcefully taken away. “Riley…” I warned. “I swear to God, if you make me do this, I’ll-” “You’ll what?” she taunted. “Threaten me to death? C’mon, M&M, what’s the worst that could happen?” This was something to consider; what was the worst that could happen? So what, I encountered some painful memories; that was hardly anything new. What was holding me back? It was just a quick coffee run to Starbucks before school. And besides, it seemed I didn’t have any other choice, seeing as Riley was driving. “Let’s go,” she said, hurriedly getting out of her car as we parked in the Starbucks parking lot. Walking through the door, she whispered to me, “Is that your mystery man?” glancing at an unfamiliar young man sitting on our right. “No. Now hurry up and order, or we’re gonna be late.” “Grande, skim mocha, please,” Riley told the barista, who was the same guy that I saw on my last solo trip to Starbucks, the one who asked if I had been stood up. “And you’ll have the caramel macchiato?” he asked me. “Um, yeah,” I said. “Grande, extra-hot, extra caramel, please.” After he rang up our order, I realized that he was not even charging us for my drink. Riley may have seen this, but I couldn’t be sure if she would say something, so I figured I would. “Excuse me, but I think you forgot to add my drink.” “No, I didn’t,” he answered, and continued at my quizzical look. “Some young guy came in about a half hour before you did and handed me some money. Said if you came in, that your drink was on him.” “Oh. Um, I’ll – er – have to thank him. Thanks, then,” and I turned away, cheeks burning in embarrassment. No big deal. Damian was probably just being friendly. Riley obviously did not see it that way; she looked so jazzed and excited, you’d think I just won the World Cup or something. Since it looked like there was no way of calming her down, I let her gush about how romantic and mysterious it was and scold me for not being more into it. It sounded like she was going to rave about it all day! Oh well, I sighed. Whatever makes her happy.
ill update again soon! keep commenting and giving me feedback, its awesome when you do. the mystery will be revealed, but not for a while. stick with me! its a long story.... and sorry this post is so short. but thanks for reading!
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Post by mala1152 on Jun 5, 2011 15:15:05 GMT -5
oh, my trusty ol' laptop, how i've missed you so...
Chapter 5 con't
I had to admit it; I was honestly curious. Curious as to why a stranger would think to be so nice to me, especially when we had only just met. Curious as to how he knew I would come that day, if I came again at all. Curious as to why I kept glancing in the direction of our – I mean, the table by the window – every time I went. Curious as to why I kept going to Starbucks at all. But mostly, I was curious as to how we had a habit of showing up at the same obscure Starbucks at the same inconsistent time… and why it happened a third time. I was watching Callan the next day after school and decided that, if the wintry weather was too bad for a run, I could at least make a coffee run (Granddad was worried I was getting addicted to caffeine, but once I let him try a sip of my drink, he was hooked, too). So I strapped Callan in and headed out, only to find Damian once again sitting at the table. “So do you make a habit out of showing up here mysteriously at the same time I do, or is that just coincidence?” I asked a few seconds after walking through the door. Damian put down the book he was reading and looked up in surprise. “So I take it you got my little gift the other day.” “I did. It was very nice.” “Well, you’re welcome,” he said in his deep, smooth voice. “I wish I would’ve known, though, that you were payin' – I would’ve gotten a venti.” We both laughed, and Callan started getting fussy, making an impatient noise and kicking his feet. “Hey there, Callan,” Damian said, and Callan denied giving him a high-five when Damian offered his hand. “Ouch,” I teased at his rejection. “Yeah, ha ha, very funny…but he doesn’t look like he’s in much of a laughin’ mood.” “I know. He’s hungry; my Granddad gave him a pretty small lunch.” “Do you wanna go grab a bite to eat?” he asked a little suddenly. I must have momentarily looked flustered or taken aback, for Damian quickly amended, “Since Callan’s probably expectin’ dinner, and all.” Gathering my senses, I quickly said, “Oh, yeah, sure, that sounds great. Where to?” We ended up going right down the street to a tiny bistro that reminded me of a Panera and a Subway combined; it served hot or cold sandwiches, but it was quaint and decorated like a coffee shop. Damian and I both ate our sandwiches while Callan, happily sitting in his highchair, ate little pieces of bread, turkey, lettuce, and tomato from my sandwich. When I placed a cucumber in front of him, he clapped his tiny hands in delight, which produced an adoring laugh from both Damian and myself. “So,” asked Damian between bites of his massive sandwich, “What time do you have to get home?” “I still have an hour or so,” I replied easily. That was how it was with Damian, today as well as before – he was easy to talk to, and didn’t make me feel uncomfortable at all. We were friends. We talked about running a little bit, and I was glad to discover that I was not the only avid runner. “Yeah, I don’t do marathons or anythin’, but I can get up to six or seven miles if I want to.” “Wow,” I said in awe. “My max is, like, four miles. But I’m getting there.” He laughed. “So I take it you don’t run for school, either?” “Nah,” I shook my head. “Competing would just seem…boring. I run ‘cause I want to, ya know? I don’t wanna be on some coach’s schedule. Plus, all the other kids who train for this stuff would put me to shame.” “I gotcha. I never did, either, but I ran some local races and stuff. They were okay, a little hard to train for, but okay.” “Well, if you ever want a running partner, gimme a call,” I said. What? Where did that come from? That was so unlike me, offering my phone number and making plans. “Sure,” he replied easily, handing me his phone to input my number. I hesitantly handed over my own. Geez, it was so easy for him, to get some random girl’s phone number, and it was so difficult for me to give it away. A thought struck me – what if he had a girlfriend? I tried to ignore a little thump my heart gave and focused more on my wild thoughts. So what if he did have a girlfriend? I could hardly be counted as a friend. And besides, we only recently became friends, so nothing would come of this friendship, despite what Riley thought. “There ya go,” I said, handing him back his own. “And there’s yours,” he said, handing me back my phone, just as it started to buzz. “Oh, that’ll be my mum,” I told him quickly, then pressed Talk. “Hello?” “Hey. Where are you?” she asked curiously. “Just out getting some dinner, since you said you’d be home late. Why, what’s up?” “Nothin’,” Mum replied, “Granddad just said that you weren’t home, and I was just wondering.” “Oh, okay. Well, I was just about to head home, anyway, so I’ll see ya soon.” “Alright, bye.” And we hung up. “So you’re leavin'?” asked Damian. “Yeah, I should probably get him home. Bad weather ‘n all, you understand.” “Sure,” he replied. I strapped Callan back into his carrier, and turned to face Damian, who was also standing. “Well, um…I hope we can – er – do this again sometime?” Oh, God, I was so awkward! “Absolutely… I’ll text you,” he smiled, waving his phone. “Alrighty, then, I guess I’ll talk to ya later. Bye!” I waved as we walked our separate ways out of the shop. Walking out of the shop brought a rush of cold air over me, and Callan acknowledged it with a shocked cry of his own. Hurrying to my car and to warmth, all thoughts of the day I just had were pushed away.
reply and comment! more to come!
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Post by mala1152 on Jun 7, 2011 14:58:38 GMT -5
yay for summer vacation!
Chapter 6
In, two, three, four…Out, two, three four. In, two, three, four…Out, two, three four. I steadied my breathing as I reached my third mile; I was feeling good today, running my usual route in warm clothes. I ran on the street, seeing as the sidewalks were too icy to walk, let alone run. It was the weekend, and I had been saving up all my energy for this run. All my nervous or excited energy that I stored came rushing out, almost in time with my breathing and steps. I hadn’t really thought about Damian and the dinner we shared over the weekend, but now that I was running, the thoughts were out in the open. Not to say that I was obsessing over it or anything – there were hundreds of thoughts bouncing around my head each minute, like an impossible physics test I took that week, changing Callan’s dirty diaper only yesterday, writing a paper for English in the wee hours of the morning, helping Dad fix the light bulb downstairs, and… Damian. Everything was seemingly random, except for the last one. Soon I ended my third mile, and things were looking up. I was going for a record, attempting to beat my current 4.5 mile personal best. I kept my breathing in check, and turned the corner. That was when the thought hit me – breaking down in Riley’s house only a few days ago. How she had to keep bringing up The Incident, and all the daily reminders I had of him, ever since… No! You can’t do this to yourself now, I chided, but it was already too late. My breathing faltered, my arms and legs no longer moved in synchronization, and I broke out of my trance. Stopping, panting on the sidewalk, I tried to gather myself, but couldn’t. Tears stung my eyes, but they had nothing to do with the wind. Why did I always do this to myself? Berate myself, attack my mind with such awful memories… I sniffed and straightened up. I was still a good mile away from home, and I definitely was not up to running that distance; my energy was spent. I sighed, and then settled in to walk in the freezing temperatures. Suddenly, a horn honked on the road next to me. “Need a ride?” asked a friendly voice from inside. I smiled and climbed in Riley’s passenger seat. “Out for a run?” she asked. “Kind of. I was just taking a break,” I explained, still breathless. “Mhmm. Well, you’re lucky we ran outta bread, or else I wouldn’t be going to the grocery store in this freezing cold, able to save your sorry butt.” “Thanks,” I responded sincerely. “Any time,” Riley smiled.
okay, be honest, how many people thought that the person in the car was gonna be damian? haha keep commenting! update soon, sorry this was so short!
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Post by mala1152 on Jun 8, 2011 21:07:19 GMT -5
another short update, since i probably wont be able to tomorrow...
Chapter 6 con't
Later that day, right around noon, my phone started lighting up and buzzing from my nearby nightstand. I reached over and grabbed it from where I was lying lazily on my bed. The caller ID said it was Damian! I snatched it up and answered. “Hello?” “Hey, Mollie!” “Oh, Damian!” I exclaimed. “What’s up?” “Well, you said to call if I ever needed a running partner…” Crap. I wanted to, that much was certain, but how would I muster up the strength, physical and mental, to make it through another run? What if my thoughts overtook me again with Damian like they had that morning? Seeing me in such a vulnerable state would only frighten him and embarrass me. I only had one answer. “Aw, if only you’d called sooner! I was out for a jog this morning, and I’m dead tired.” “Are you sure? I wasn’t planning on going on a long run, maybe just up to Starbucks and back…” he pressed, but I held firm. “Yeah, I’m sure; my legs won’t hold me up for long. Sorry.” “That’s alright. Some other time then, okay?” he said, sounding disappointed. “Absolutely,” I repeated his words from a few days ago. “I’ll text you.” He laughed once. “Okay. See you around, Mollie.” “Bye.” I hung up the phone feeling severely disappointed in myself and incredibly sad. I let my fear of my memories, of the past, come back and haunt me for the second time today. Falling short of my record was one thing, but having to turn Damian down was another entirely. Maybe I would never get the chance to run with him, maybe my memories would stay with me forever… Then so be it. I did not need anyone to help with my issues, with the exception of Riley. Damian and I were friends, and he would not need to know about anything that happened in the past. I had to keep it from him, or at least let him make the wrong assumptions, and not let myself get so exposed again. If he knew about what happened with him, then I don’t know if I could ever look at Damian the same way again. Maybe he’d even give me The Look, and I could not stand that. So no, Damian would never have to know...
theres still plenty of story left! any more guesses? lemme see 'em! thanks for reading!
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Post by mala1152 on Jun 10, 2011 10:24:38 GMT -5
this story is almost on the first page of this forum! thanks guys!
Chapter 7
I went the next week at school without a thought of running again, lest I have another episode in the middle of my route. Even though it was nearing March in a few weeks, it was still too cold to have to walk home… Even though things were not developing much on the running side of things, other things were. Callan started to stand up, and it would not be long until he would start walking. My history grade had finally been brought back up to an A, where I intended to keep it. Granddad started back up again with his daily walks at the mall, and Riley’s older brother just came home for a visit from college. Most notably, however, Damian and I planned a few… not dates, but outings at Starbucks after school. We soon ventured out from Starbucks to the mall, where we ate at the food court and did some window shopping. But as friends, and only that; I tried stressing that to Riley, but she was not buying it. “C’mon, Molls, how can you not see it?” she asked incredulously. “Because there’s nothing to see! We’re just hanging out, like you are I are doing right now!” I shrieked in response. Riley just raised her eyebrows in suspicion and unconvinced, said, “Mhmm, okay.” Exasperated with her refusal to let the topic go, I stood up, crossed her living room in three quick strides, and lunged at her on the couch. There was good-natured hair pulling, slaps, and shakes as we wrestled like only sisters could. “Ow, not the hair!” cried Riley as I yanked on her wild red hair. “Then stop bugging me!” I laughed, but abruptly stopped as she bit my arm. “Not until you admit that you like him!” “There’s nothing to admit!” I grunted as she gave me a few well-aimed knocks on the head. “Admit what?” asked a deep voice that just entered the living room through the front door. “Hey, Logan,” I said, scrambling out of the brief wrestling match to greet Riley’s older brother. “There’s noth-” “Mollie’s got a boyfriend!” cried Riley, whose smile only got wider as she saw me blush. It was embarrassing for me to have a “boyfriend,” even though Damian was not my boyfriend. I had not told my parents that we had been hanging out, and I definitely had not thought of telling Logan. Since Riles and I had been practically joined at the hip since we were six, I had gotten to know Logan pretty well. Being an only child for most of my life, I longed for a brother or sister; Riley nicely filled the role of best friend/sister, and Logan filled the void of brother, someone to make fun of and annoy me, but also to have my back and look out for me in a way that Riley couldn’t. I vaguely remembered Riley bringing her first boyfriend over to meet her family when we were fourteen. She had been nervous that her dad would be the problem in that scenario, but it was her brother. Three years her senior, Logan was automatically suspicious of the boy, and it took him a while to be remotely civil to him. Oddly, he was the same way with me, like he saw me as a little sister, too. He didn’t really like my boyfriend for a while, but he eventually came around. Logan liked him closer toward the end of our relationship, before… Nuh-uh, I scolded. Not this again. “A boyfriend?” asked Logan with a smirk, bringing me back to the present. “Anybody I know?” “He’s not my boyfriend,” I said with a glare. “And no, you don’t know him.” “I don’t know him either, and it’s driving me insane,” insisted Riley. “Get used to it,” I muttered, and settled in for some inevitable teasing and nagging.
so i hope you enjoyed it! keep the guesses coming... there've been a few close ones, believe it or not! thanks for reading!
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Post by mala1152 on Jun 11, 2011 21:33:47 GMT -5
heres a nice, long update....
Chapter 7 con't
“No way,” I said, shaking my head at him. “Yeah way,” Damian replied, showing me the picture again. “Seriously?” “Seriously. What’s so hard to believe?” I struggled to find the right words as he showed me a picture on the computer of his singing group. “They’re so… so… so much older than you!” He laughed. “What did you expect?” “I don’t know! A boy-band or something, like a little crappy band that just plays in someone’s garage.” It was the weekend, a day after my long session of undeserved teasing from Logan and Riley. Things got a little heated after a while, especially after they mentioned my last boyfriend (I got goosebumps every time I thought about it, and begged my mind not to go there). That effectively ended that conversation. Now, however, I was sitting in my living room on the couch with Damian, the laptop between us. I had ironically found him in Starbucks, taking a break from a run. After a little conversation, I felt bad that he had to run all the way back home in the cold; it was supposed to snow that day, and if I had been the runner, I would have pleaded for someone to give me a ride home. As it was, Damian was too polite to ask, and instead I insisted on driving him home. The second we pulled out of the parking lot, my cell phone rang, and Mum needed me home to watch Callan again. Damian said he did not mind in the slightest if we made a detour to my house to pick up Callan. Once we were there, though, it just seemed easier and more fun for him to stay. “Boy band?!” he exclaimed. “I don’t think so!” “But then how old are all these guys?” Damian settled in deeper into the couch and leaned closer to me. “That’s Keith,” he said, pointing to a young man with long, shaggy blonde hair with a look of indifference. “And George,” clearly the eldest of the group, a bald man with a kind face. “Paul’s that one,” he said, indicating a smiling man with bright eyes and a charismatic air. “And that’s Ryan.” Ryan was definitely a man of contradictions, for his smirk and jet-black hair made him look dark and evil, but his soft eyes and thoughtful countenance suggested otherwise. “Hmmm,” I said thoughtfully. “Let’s hear how you guys sound.” I snatched the laptop away from Damian and quickly typed his name into YouTube. The results that popped up were astounding, but I clicked on the “Celtic Thunder Official” one and found a video. “Home?” I asked gently. “You sing Michael Bublé’s song?” “Well…yeah,” he answered sheepishly. His version was so beautiful that I was choked up near the end. Damian’s perfect, silky, warm voice was deep as it wound through my ears from the speakers, and his small chuckle from my right reminded me not to get so sentimental. I clicked on another one called Ireland’s Call, and soon the sound of drums blasted from the computer. Callan made a squeal from where he was sitting on the floor, quite forgotten, and clapped his hands in delight. “You like that?” I asked, handing to laptop to Damian and scooping Callan up onto the couch. “Wanna watch?” He sat, mesmerized by the video playing onscreen of a much younger Damian singing with mature, older men. It was kind of funny to watch, since I knew a completely different side. While Callan was busy being entertained by Ireland’s Call, I fetched Damian and me some Pepsi cans from the fridge. When I came back, the video was finally over, and Callan kicked his legs impatiently until another one began to play. “Wow, I think he actually likes it!” I cried in surprise. “It looks like he’s trying to sing,” Damian joked. Callan’s mouth only seemed to be forming an excess amount of drool, not the energetic and poetic words from the song. “Hopefully he gets it right before the Celtic Thunder auditions of 2030 come around,” I laughed. “Here’s to Celtic Thunder’s future star!” he joked, and we clinked our Pepsi cans together in a toast. “I don’t really know if I see him as a singer,” I said after a few minutes’ pause. “Oh yeah? Then what do you think he’ll do when he grows up?” “Not sure…he’ll definitely be a footballer, I’ll make sure of that!” I waited a minute, and then continued. “He’ll probably grow up to do something exciting, like a professional skydiver or bungee jumper. Something crazy.” Realizing that this was a dream I had dreamt for a very long time and could never have, I tried to lighten my mood. “But I still say footballer. He’ll be beatin’ the girls away with a stick!” I joked. “It’s not really workin’ for me,” Damian said. “What? No girlfriend?” I teased. When the sudden realization of what I had just asked him rushed over me, I averted my eyes and my cheeks burned hotter than ever. “Not at the moment,” he answered smoothly, after a few seconds’ hesitation. “How about you? Got a boyfriend?” That did it. My heart rate peaked, and my head spun; I felt a chill as the goosebumps passed up my back, and my heart seemed cold and dead despite its quick pace. “No,” I managed to choke out. “Not at the moment.” Damian could obviously feel the tension in the air and the pain behind my words. It embarrassed and hurt me further, and I could feel my eyes start to prick, as if they wanted to tear. I couldn’t cry in front of Damian! Even though I had been through this time and time again, I still had this reaction to the pain. I had to try to fight it. “Are you finished with your Pepsi?” I asked cordially, breezing past the few awkward moments in which we had both sat on the couch stunned into silence. “Hm? Oh, uh, yeah.” I stood and threw them out in the kitchen, trying desperately to change the subject as quickly as possible. “So…how was your run today? Before I stopped and got you, I mean.” I said this loudly from the kitchen, taking my time to return to the living room. “Good,” said Damian, closer than I expected. He had come to stand in the doorway of the kitchen, holding an unhappy Callan in his arms. “Hey, are you okay?” “Me? Why? No, I’m fine,” I hurriedly said before he could answer. I still could not meet his eyes. “Are you sure? You seemed a little…tense before.” “Yeah, I just remembered that I had to feed Callan.” I busied myself about the kitchen, cutting a slice of bread in half for a miniature sandwich for Callan. “Are you sure?” Damian probed as I assembled little sandwich bites onto a plate for him and prepared his highchair. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m fine,” I snapped, reaching for Callan in Damian’s arms. “Mollie.” I looked up for the first time, gazing into his confused blue eyes. In the depth of the bright blue I could see concern mingled with sympathy, a caring so deep that it was evident even in his eyes. This was not The Look, but something entirely different that surpassed it. For a moment, I almost gave in. I wanted so badly to cry away my painful memories and tell someone how I felt after keeping so much bottled up inside for two months. To have someone hold me and console my sad, hard, bitter feelings about the past seemed like the best thing in the world. No, I commanded myself, straightening up. This is Damian, so let it go. “Damian. Really, it’s okay.” After a few seconds of staring me down to see if I really meant it, he relented, and handed me Callan. “Alright,” he said suspiciously. A few minutes of awkward silence ensued, and I could feel him scrutinizing me and pondering my strange mood. Again, I could not look him in the eyes, for fear of actually giving in. The uncomfortable gaze which I could feel upon me made me cringe, to try to shy away from his penetrating blue eyes. There seemed only one way to avert his gaze, and that was to somehow get him to leave. It was something I definitely didn’t want to do, but it was something he beat me to. “Well, I think I’m gonna head out,” Damian tried to say casually. “Okay,” I said sheepishly, torn between wanting him to stay and wanting him to leave. “Okay…bye.” I heard him exit the room, and although I had previously been torn between indecision, I had just made up my mind to ask him to stay, beg if I had to. “Wait-” I started to say as I opened the door through which he had just left, but he was already gone.
i gave you guys a really long update since i probably wont be able to post for a few days... any more guesses? i thought this was a pretty intense update myself. thoughts? reply reply reply!
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Post by mala1152 on Jun 13, 2011 21:14:04 GMT -5
okay, CP, you have a point... as you wish!
Chapter 8
I tried not to think of Damian that following day too much, but as hard as I tried, I could not manage to keep him out of my thoughts for very long that Monday. All through school, as I walked along by myself from class to class, I thought of how badly I wanted to apologize and explain my odd behavior from yesterday, but I lost my nerve each time I got serious about putting the plan into action. Riley looked at me questioningly over lunch, but I didn’t – couldn’t – explain. As much as I loved Riley, she just wouldn’t understand my inner dilemma here. I sighed in relief as I plunked my bookbag down in the kitchen as I got home from school. It was nice to be home after a long, stressful day of schoolwork. Of course, now I had homework, but that I could handle in peace. “Mollie?” called Granddad from the living room. “Hey, Granddad,” I greeted him with a quick kiss on the cheek. “What’s up kid?” “Nothin’ but homework. What’s up with this kid?” I asked, smiling at Callan, who was sitting contentedly next to Granddad on the couch watching TV. As he saw me, he stretched his arms above his head, asking to be picked up. “He missed you, apparently,” said Granddad. “Yeah, well, I didn’t really miss his diapers or drool,” I joked. I set Callan back down on Granddad’s lap and carried the laptop over to the other end of the couch, where I sat down to start some homework. As soon as I opened the laptop, however, I immediately became distracted; there, on the screen, was the Celtic Thunder home page on which I had closed the laptop yesterday. Damian’s bright blue eyes sparkled at me, even from the computer image. “What’s that?” asked Granddad, being his usual nosy self. “Oh – um, it’s nothing.” “What is it?” he asked again. I sighed. There would be no getting around this, so I’d might as well get it over with. “It’s this group of singers I just discovered.” “Really? How?” Now, I could have explained the concept of YouTube to Granddad, but that was more work than it was worth. “I met one of ‘em.” “Which one? The young guy?” he asked, pointing out Damian. “Yes, Granddad, the young one,” I answered, annoyed. “Was this the boy that came over yesterday?” I blinked at him, shocked. How did he know Damian was over? “H – how did you…?” “Oh, please, Mollie, just ‘cause I’m old doesn’t mean I’m deaf or blind. I know things,” he added with a wink. “Yeah,” I admitted. “We’ve been hangin’ out the past few weeks.” “Mhmm.” His skeptical look was enough to feel uncomfortable, and I felt myself shying away from any more conversation on this topic. I didn’t want to talk about it with Riley, and I definitely did not want to talk about it with Granddad! Besides, there was nothing going on… “Alright…I’m just – um – gonna go do some homework…” I stuttered as I shuffled uneasily from the room. Plopping down on my bed, I looked once again at the picture of Damian on the laptop screen. The more I looked, the more I wanted to call him and explain, to go back to the way things were between us before Sunday – just easy talking, calm, enjoyable company. I got out my phone to dial, Damian’s deep eyes still staring at me from the computer. I had just found his number on my contact list when I stopped. My heart was racing for some inexplicable reason, and I second-guessed myself, not for the first time today. Would I really accomplish anything from this phone call? We would just go back to how we were, something I thought I wanted, but now I was unsure. I would go back to having to keep secrets from him, to keeping myself locked up nice and tight. I would go back to flinching at the slightest mention of…of the past, and that was too much a giveaway for Damian’s perceptive gaze. I did not want him to find out, or I would get The Look from him, too. Decidedly, I snapped my phone shut, clicked out of the Internet, and started my homework. things will get exciting in the next two or so chapters... stay tuned! keep replying, and answer the question i posted earlier!
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Post by mala1152 on Jun 17, 2011 10:09:15 GMT -5
i was out of town for a few days, so chances to update were few and far between.... here you go!
Chapter 9
“Mollie? Molllllliiiiiiieeeeeee,” came Riley’s voice from next to me. I had been daydreaming during lunch, and she was trying to get my attention. “Hmm? What?” I asked. “Did you honestly not just hear the entire conversation?” she asked with a laugh. “Sort of…” Riley sighed, and two of the other girls at our table giggled. “The party? Saturday?” said Caitlin, a nice girl with whom I shared some classes. “Party? Not really my thing, guys,” I said dismissively. “We thought you’d say that,” said Riley menacingly. “But we’re making you go.” “I don’t think you are,” I argued. “You thought wrong,” Riley countered. “Caitlin and I will pick you up at eight Saturday night. It’s not far, and you’ll have a great time. We’ll even help you get ready and everything!” “Riley, no.” “C’mon, Mollie!” urged Caitlin. “It’s not that big a deal, you’ll have fun with us!” “Nah, I probably have to watch Callan or something-” “Mollie, come on, it’s a college party! You can’t seriously say you’re not interested,” said another girl, Colleen, from across the table. “College party?” I stammered. That settled it for me – I definitely was not going. “Wow, you really don’t pay attention, do you?” Caitlin joked. “Anyway,” Riley continued, “You’re coming with us, whether you like it or not. You should get out more and stop being so blah!” I sighed in reluctant acceptance. There was no way to talk her, or anyone out of this. Having to endure awkward social interactions at school was hard enough over the past two months, but going to a party, where I had to talk to people just seemed too much. The rest of my friends could say all they wanted about helping me out, talking to me or introducing me to new people to talk to, but we all knew that once we were there, they would just go drool over some college guys and leave me standing in a corner by myself. If I could bring someone I knew would talk to me and make me feel awkward at the party, that’d be great, but who would come? I only knew of one person, and it seemed so obvious! “Riles,” I said quietly aside. “Would you care if I brought someone along with us?” She smiled a knowing smile. “Oh, I knew it!” “Riles!” I complained. “Oh, fine. Please, go on,” she said in her patronizing tone. “I’m thinking about bringing Damian along.” “Does this mean I finally get to meet him?!” she crowed, attracting the attention of nearly the entire table. After a hard stare from Riley and a pleading one from me, our friends turned back to their previous conversations and let us continue. “Yeah, yeah, if you really want to,” I patronized her. “Only…” “What?” I considered it for a second. “Maybe he won’t want to come with us, since he only knows me… I just won’t ask him, and I won’t go-” “Nuh-uh, you’re going, and he’s comin’ with ya!” she demanded. “Alright,” I agreed easily, much to both of our surprise. This wasn’t usually the sort of thing I got excited over, even before The Incident. For the first time in a very long time, I was actually looking forward to something. The party would not be that bad, as long as I had Riley and Damian there to talk to, right? A thought struck me then – I still had to call and ask him.
My heart slammed against my ribs like yesterday in this exact situation; I sat up straight on my bed after school, having a stare down with my phone as I hesitated to dial Damian’s number. What was I really afraid of? Either he came, or he didn’t. It was not the end of the world! But what if he didn’t come? Would I be able to take that kind of rejection, harsh, cold, and unforgiving? I knew there was only one way to find out, but I was terrified of finding out! Maybe I was just better off not knowing… Don’t think you can back out of this! cried a voice that sounded like Riley from the back of my mind. I sighed. She was right. I was actually looking forward to something, so I had to take some risks, try to make some chances fall my way. I held my breath as I pressed the green button. He picked up after two rings. “Hello?” “Hey, Damian,” I began slowly. “Mollie!” he cried, sounding surprised. “What’s up?” “Well, a couple of things,” I said, sounding overly formal. I just needed to settle down and speak calmly. Yeah, I could do that… “First of all, I, um, just wanted t-to sa-say… just wanted to say sorry for my, uh, little mood swing yesterday,” I stammered in nervousness. He laughed. He actually laughed as I was in all this distress?! Oddly enough, it soothed me, and calmed my anxious nerves. “Don’t worry about it,” he brushed it aside. “What else?” “And…I decided that I wanted to make it up to you.” “I’m listening.” “Well, nothing quite as good as Starbucks…but I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come to a party this Saturday?” “A party?” “Yeah,” I emphasized quickly, and continued on in a mad rush to get all the words out of my mouth at once. “There’ll be a lot of college kids there, and I figured you might know a lot of them, ‘cause I won’t, and I was just seeing if you would come so if we didn’t know anybody we could at least talk to each other, and you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, I’m just curious, never mind, I’ll just-” “Whoa, whoa, slow down!” he chuckled. “Sure, I’ll come. I’ve heard a few of my mates talkin’ about it.” I swiftly interjected, “Oh, if you’d rather go with them-” “I didn’t say that!” Damian almost sounded offended. “I want to go with you.” I blushed so deeply that if he had seen me, I would have been embarrassed for so resembling a tomato. If I did not know before the reason I was so excited to be going to this party, I definitely knew now.
there ya go... the story is over halfway over, can you believe it?
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Post by mala1152 on Jun 20, 2011 14:43:51 GMT -5
well, since CP asked oh so kindly... here ya go! update!
Chapter 10
Well, I was ready. After being deemed acceptable by Riley, I turned to inspect myself in her full-length mirror. My blonde hair, usually pulled back in a ponytail, was now straight and hung, shiny and long, to the middle of my back. I put foundation on my face and Riley applied makeup to my eyes, which made their bright green color pop and seem almost teal. I couldn’t say I was disappointed… My skinny jeans fit perfectly, despite not having been worn for a few months, and the tight black top I wore was quite flattering. Riley nodded in approval, as if I was some project she created from scratch. “Can we go now?” I asked impatiently. Damian and I had decided to meet up at the party instead of going together, which made me anxious. What if he didn’t show? Then what would I do? But I shook my head, scattering all those silly, petty fears, and settled for impatience. “Yes, yes, fine,” answered Riley for what must have been the third time in twenty minutes. She finished fastening her earring and walked out of her room with me following close behind. “You are so impatient,” she grumbled. I tried to keep myself distracted on the drive to the party, but it did not work. I kept thinking about how nervous I was and how I was kind of socially awkward after what happened a few months ago… No, even if I was looking for distractions, that would not be a good one to have. At least I would have Damian to talk to. Hopefully, he would already be there when we showed up, and I would not have to spend a lot of time looking for him. If I did, I would probably be forced to talk to a bunch of drunk, stranger college kids, something I was not looking forward to. Riley had no idea this was going on inside my head. It was just like when I was running; I was calm on the outside, but my insides were in turmoil. Any emotionally stressful event shut me down on the outside. “I’m guessing this is the place,” Riley said as she turned left. There were cars parked all the way down the street, and one house on the whole street was lit up. “Get ready for a long walk,” I groaned as she parked at least a dozen houses down. We hurriedly walked into the party to escape the bitingly cold February night. The party was exactly as I had expected; there was music playing from somewhere, there was barely enough room to maneuver through the threshold, young college and high school kids were walking around with red plastic cups in hand, and the loud atmosphere was an immediate turnoff. As soon as I walked in, I knew that I did not belong there. “Riley!” I said anxiously as she started to walk away from me. Grabbing her elbow and getting close enough for her to hear me, I said, “Don’t go away ‘til I find Damian.” She looked at me with the same expression a mother gives a shy child. “Please?” I asked, and I knew she could not resist. “Okay. Don’t put your coat down anywhere, someone might accidentally take it,” she instructed as I began to shrug out of mine. As I shook my arms out of it, there were hands sliding the coat off my back. Somebody was seriously trying to steal it literally right off my back?! “Hey-” I whipped around, but cut off as I saw the two familiar hands holding my coat. “Don’t forget it this time,” smiled Damian, and I could not help but smile back. “Damian! This is Riley.” I pulled Riley next to me so she could be properly introduced, and she would probably thank me later for it. As she took in the full sight of Damian, I heard her breath stop abruptly before she exhaled noticeably and said, “I’m Riley. Nice to meet you!” “I’m Damian,” was all Damian said. “I know,” Riley replied, “I’ve heard a lot about you.” I turned and glared at her. She seemed to get the hint that I was embarrassed and going to make her pay for that later, for she soon turned and shuffled off to meet someone else with a quick, “See ya later!” “So what’s up?” Damian asked me, either very good at overlooking the stares he received from both Riley and me, or very oblivious. “Oh, ya know, the usual… so nothin’ much.” I looked around me with a look of firm distaste at the crowd. “Too crowded for you?” asked Damian with a smirk. “What was your first clue?” I laughed. “Maybe we should move.” As we worked our way to a quieter part of the house, one where we could actually hear each other speak, I somehow ended up leading the way. A couple of big guys who must have been at least a foot taller than me came running through the hallway, right into my path. Thankfully, Damian grabbed my arm and held me back, a step away from getting trampled. “Thanks. Friends of yours?” I asked skeptically. “Nah.” “Do you know anybody here?” “Oh, yeah, plenty of people from college, but I just don’t feel like hangin’ out with ‘em. I see them enough at school.” He shrugged, and we settled standing in a small doorway between two rooms. “I know what you mean. Like them, over there,” I said, pointing out a few girls in my class who were flirting and giggling obnoxiously. “I know them from school, but they annoy the heck outta me when we’re not in class.” That was how our conversation started out, innocently pointing out people we knew and talking about the differences between the ones we liked and the ones we didn’t. We soon ventured on to talk about everything else, with few interruptions from people, except Riley and Caitlin who both came once or twice to say hello. It was so nice to talk and laugh, especially with Damian. His deep, throaty laugh and playful expression made it impossible not to enjoy myself. We swapped stories, his about travelling to America and singing while mine revolved more around other, less exciting things like Callan and school. I must have lost track of time, for over an hour later, after a particularly funny story Damian told me about his group mates Paul and Keith, Damian stood and said, “I’m thirsty, want me to get you somethin’ to drink while I’m up?” “Sure. Somethin’ nonalcoholic, please!” I joked. He said he would be back in a minute, turned, and was off.
the next post is when things get REALLY exciting... but its not time for the big reveal yet! still a ways to go before that comes along. keep replying and commenting!
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