Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Abnormal ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Ohne Sie 
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Fantasy / Suspense | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.30.2009 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 253 | Status: Work In Progress
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Fantasy / Suspense | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.30.2009 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 253 | Status: Work In Progress
Abnormal
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Chapter 3
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© 2009 Ohne Sie
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Chapter 3
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© 2009 Ohne Sie
I’ve never had good luck in my relationships with people. I think that after people hang out with me long enough, they realize I’m hiding something. The only exception that I know of is Leslie, but whether that’s because she’s pretty oblivious, or because she actually cares about me, I don’t know. I’m always afraid to get close to people, because I’m afraid they’ll find out about me. Or worse, that I’ll find out that…you know.
That’s why it’s so hard to be crushing on a guy right now. I don’t know what to do about it. He seems nice, but what happens if he learns the truth? I don’t know how he would, but I still have to be careful.
The mall trip passed by pretty quickly. Most of it was spent in Lacy’s Boutique, which is a tiny clothing store with prices that are anything but tiny. Somehow, Sara and Jen ended up carrying two very large bags each out of there. I wondered how Jen’s parents could afford that after buying her a brand new Mustang. It didn’t matter, in the end. I wasn’t jealous or anything. It just seemed like a waste to me. Leslie and Kristin, however, couldn’t hide the jealous looks on their faces.
“I wish my parents would let me go crazy in Lacy’s like that,” Kristin said, pouting.
Sarah laughed. “You just have to whine a little. ‘Daddy, can I please get some stuff at Lacy’s? There’s this really cute top that I have to have. If I don’t, all the other girls will hate me! Don’t you want me to be popular, Daddy?’ Like that.”
I had to look away in order to hide my look of disgust. “I wish I could do that,” I heard Leslie mumble. “But there’s no way my mom would fall for that, and who knows where my dad is?”
“I’m going to try it,” Kristin said. “Sarah, you’re like a goddess or something.”
Or something, I thought to myself. Once again, I wondered why I hung around these girls. I glanced at my watch and tapped Leslie on the shoulder. She looked at my wrist, where I was pointing.
“Really?” she said, exasperated. “Later, guys. Laurel and I need to go home.” She sighed, walking with me and waving back at the others.
“Bye, guys,” Kristin said.
“Later,” Sarah and Jen chorused.
It was 7:31 when we got outside. My mom was waiting. She sat there with a look of false anger on her face. “I thought I said to be out at 7:30,” she said.
I laughed. “Whatever, Mom,” I said, climbing into the back seat. Leslie followed me.
“So, did you guys have fun?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I started to say, but Leslie interrupted me.
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” she said, “Especially Laurel.”
My mom had started to pull away. “Oh?” she asked, clearly interested. I blushed, covering my face with my notebook.
“You should ask her about the bookstore, and that new kid, Quinn,” Leslie said, smirking.
Mom looked at me in the rear-view mirror. “Quinn?”
“He’s…in my English class,” I mumbled, lowering the notebook. “He seems nice.”
“When are we going to meet him?” she asked.
“Mom!” I said, covering my face again. “I just met him.”
“I’m just teasing you, Laurel,” Mom said. “Anything else happen?”
“Not really,” Leslie said, sighing. “We spent most of the time in Lacy’s, because that’s where Sarah and Jen wanted to go.”
Mom grimaced. “Lacy’s. That’s that overpriced clothing store? Why would anyone buy anything there?”
“I wish I could,” Leslie said, sighing.
“Why would your friends make you go there if you didn’t want to? You should have gone somewhere everyone wanted to go.”
“Mom, you don’t know much about high school politics, do you?” I asked. “We always go where Sarah goes.”
“Apparently it’s been too long since I was in high school. That doesn’t sound like something a friend does, Laurel.”
I shrugged. “It’s Sarah,” I said, figuring that would be enough of an explanation.
“So it is,” Mom said, proving me right. “Leslie, you should be glad your mom has the sense not to waste two hundred dollars on a blouse.”
Leslie sighed. “I should be, but I’m not.”
I grinned. Mom would never understand what it was like to be in the popular crowd and not be Sarah, Kristin, or even Jen. Leslie was never satisfied with her social standing. The only reason I was even part of the clique was Leslie. Mom pulled into Leslie’s driveway, finally. Leslie opened the door and jumped out.
“Remember to do your homework,” my mom called after her. I saw Leslie’s shoulders slump and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“See you tomorrow, Les,” I said. She waved back at me and ran into the house.
As Mom pulled out of the driveway, I hoped she had forgotten about our original topic of discussion. My hopes were dashed, however, when she opened her mouth again.
“Tell me about this Quinn boy,” Mom said. I sighed.
“He’s in my English class. I met him in the bookstore and we were talking about this journal assignment. Apparently he’s doing it, too, which makes two of us in the entire class, I think.”
“Leslie seems to think something is going on with you two.”
“Leslie always thinks something is going on if a guy and a girl are talking. That doesn’t mean anything is.”
Mom smiled. “You’re awfully defensive.”
“That’s because there’s nothing going on. And if there was, it’s not like I haven’t had boyfriends before.”
“But it’s fun to tease you,” Mom said. “It’s just so easy. You get so flustered.”
I sighed. “Can we drop it now?”
“For now, yes,” Mom said, laughing. We had reached our house. “Did you finish your homework?”
“Not yet. I’ll do it when I go upstairs.”
“Good girl,” Mom said, opening the front door. I followed her in, running upstairs to work on my homework.
I finished my calculus homework much faster than I thought I would. I took out a clean sheet of paper and wrote Leslie’s name on it, taking care to match it to her handwriting. Years of doing this exact same thing had made me a professional at faking my best friend’s homework. It sounds bad, but really, it’s not like she didn’t know how to do her own work. Leslie was a smart girl. I hadn’t lied when I told my mom that. She just had different priorities than I did. Ours was a symbiotic relationship. I did her homework for her and helped her with her schoolwork when she didn’t understand something, and she helped me fit in with the popular girls and feel normal. Honestly, if anything, I felt like I was getting the better end of the deal.
After completing Leslie’s homework, changing the style of a few numbers to make hers distinguishable from mine, I set my calculus binder aside and opened up my history book. History was normally one of my better subjects, but lately the names and dates just seemed to run together. It took all of my concentration, most of the time, just to remember everything I needed to remember. It didn’t help that we were learning about World War II, and how Nazi Germany, under Hitler’s control, ostracized anyone who was different, often killing them. I had had the same problem earlier in the semester, when we learned about the witch hunts, and how anyone who was suspected of witchcraft was hanged. What could you call what I could do, if not witchcraft, after all?
My eyes felt like they were glazing over, so I decided that I had had enough of history and Nazis for one day. I pushed my textbook aside and looked at the clock. It was 8:45. It was still pretty early. I considered pulling out my journal and writing in it, but as I was reaching into my backpack to grab it, my phone vibrated.
From: Leslie
Omg laurel u wil nvr guess wut I just herd!!!!!
I smiled. Oh, Leslie. You and your cell phone lingo. I hit “reply,” and typed out a response.
To: Leslie
What?
I waited a minute, putting my books back in my backpack. Then the response came.
From: Leslie
Theres goin 2 b a HUGE prty @ k’s nxt wk! u haf 2 come!
I frowned. “K” probably stood for “Kristin,” but what made this particular party so special? Kristin was always having parties.
To: Leslie
Kristin has parties all the time. What makes this one so special that I have to go?
The response was almost immediate, as if she knew what I would say, and had the response ready beforehand.
From: Leslie
Bcuz her parents wont b there & Quinn wil!
That made me pause. Her parents wouldn’t be there. I couldn’t tell my parents that, for sure, or they would never let me go. I didn’t have the courage to sneak out if they refused to let me go. If it weren’t for the second part of the text, I would have never even considered lying to them, but there was something about Quinn, even though we had just met, that intrigued me.
To: Leslie
So how are we going to do this? I need a bulletproof alibi.
I turned off my light and lay back on my bed. I closed my eyes, waiting for the phone to vibrate again with Leslie’s brilliant plan. It didn’t. Instead, I fell asleep.
That’s why it’s so hard to be crushing on a guy right now. I don’t know what to do about it. He seems nice, but what happens if he learns the truth? I don’t know how he would, but I still have to be careful.
The mall trip passed by pretty quickly. Most of it was spent in Lacy’s Boutique, which is a tiny clothing store with prices that are anything but tiny. Somehow, Sara and Jen ended up carrying two very large bags each out of there. I wondered how Jen’s parents could afford that after buying her a brand new Mustang. It didn’t matter, in the end. I wasn’t jealous or anything. It just seemed like a waste to me. Leslie and Kristin, however, couldn’t hide the jealous looks on their faces.
“I wish my parents would let me go crazy in Lacy’s like that,” Kristin said, pouting.
Sarah laughed. “You just have to whine a little. ‘Daddy, can I please get some stuff at Lacy’s? There’s this really cute top that I have to have. If I don’t, all the other girls will hate me! Don’t you want me to be popular, Daddy?’ Like that.”
I had to look away in order to hide my look of disgust. “I wish I could do that,” I heard Leslie mumble. “But there’s no way my mom would fall for that, and who knows where my dad is?”
“I’m going to try it,” Kristin said. “Sarah, you’re like a goddess or something.”
Or something, I thought to myself. Once again, I wondered why I hung around these girls. I glanced at my watch and tapped Leslie on the shoulder. She looked at my wrist, where I was pointing.
“Really?” she said, exasperated. “Later, guys. Laurel and I need to go home.” She sighed, walking with me and waving back at the others.
“Bye, guys,” Kristin said.
“Later,” Sarah and Jen chorused.
It was 7:31 when we got outside. My mom was waiting. She sat there with a look of false anger on her face. “I thought I said to be out at 7:30,” she said.
I laughed. “Whatever, Mom,” I said, climbing into the back seat. Leslie followed me.
“So, did you guys have fun?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I started to say, but Leslie interrupted me.
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” she said, “Especially Laurel.”
My mom had started to pull away. “Oh?” she asked, clearly interested. I blushed, covering my face with my notebook.
“You should ask her about the bookstore, and that new kid, Quinn,” Leslie said, smirking.
Mom looked at me in the rear-view mirror. “Quinn?”
“He’s…in my English class,” I mumbled, lowering the notebook. “He seems nice.”
“When are we going to meet him?” she asked.
“Mom!” I said, covering my face again. “I just met him.”
“I’m just teasing you, Laurel,” Mom said. “Anything else happen?”
“Not really,” Leslie said, sighing. “We spent most of the time in Lacy’s, because that’s where Sarah and Jen wanted to go.”
Mom grimaced. “Lacy’s. That’s that overpriced clothing store? Why would anyone buy anything there?”
“I wish I could,” Leslie said, sighing.
“Why would your friends make you go there if you didn’t want to? You should have gone somewhere everyone wanted to go.”
“Mom, you don’t know much about high school politics, do you?” I asked. “We always go where Sarah goes.”
“Apparently it’s been too long since I was in high school. That doesn’t sound like something a friend does, Laurel.”
I shrugged. “It’s Sarah,” I said, figuring that would be enough of an explanation.
“So it is,” Mom said, proving me right. “Leslie, you should be glad your mom has the sense not to waste two hundred dollars on a blouse.”
Leslie sighed. “I should be, but I’m not.”
I grinned. Mom would never understand what it was like to be in the popular crowd and not be Sarah, Kristin, or even Jen. Leslie was never satisfied with her social standing. The only reason I was even part of the clique was Leslie. Mom pulled into Leslie’s driveway, finally. Leslie opened the door and jumped out.
“Remember to do your homework,” my mom called after her. I saw Leslie’s shoulders slump and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“See you tomorrow, Les,” I said. She waved back at me and ran into the house.
As Mom pulled out of the driveway, I hoped she had forgotten about our original topic of discussion. My hopes were dashed, however, when she opened her mouth again.
“Tell me about this Quinn boy,” Mom said. I sighed.
“He’s in my English class. I met him in the bookstore and we were talking about this journal assignment. Apparently he’s doing it, too, which makes two of us in the entire class, I think.”
“Leslie seems to think something is going on with you two.”
“Leslie always thinks something is going on if a guy and a girl are talking. That doesn’t mean anything is.”
Mom smiled. “You’re awfully defensive.”
“That’s because there’s nothing going on. And if there was, it’s not like I haven’t had boyfriends before.”
“But it’s fun to tease you,” Mom said. “It’s just so easy. You get so flustered.”
I sighed. “Can we drop it now?”
“For now, yes,” Mom said, laughing. We had reached our house. “Did you finish your homework?”
“Not yet. I’ll do it when I go upstairs.”
“Good girl,” Mom said, opening the front door. I followed her in, running upstairs to work on my homework.
I finished my calculus homework much faster than I thought I would. I took out a clean sheet of paper and wrote Leslie’s name on it, taking care to match it to her handwriting. Years of doing this exact same thing had made me a professional at faking my best friend’s homework. It sounds bad, but really, it’s not like she didn’t know how to do her own work. Leslie was a smart girl. I hadn’t lied when I told my mom that. She just had different priorities than I did. Ours was a symbiotic relationship. I did her homework for her and helped her with her schoolwork when she didn’t understand something, and she helped me fit in with the popular girls and feel normal. Honestly, if anything, I felt like I was getting the better end of the deal.
After completing Leslie’s homework, changing the style of a few numbers to make hers distinguishable from mine, I set my calculus binder aside and opened up my history book. History was normally one of my better subjects, but lately the names and dates just seemed to run together. It took all of my concentration, most of the time, just to remember everything I needed to remember. It didn’t help that we were learning about World War II, and how Nazi Germany, under Hitler’s control, ostracized anyone who was different, often killing them. I had had the same problem earlier in the semester, when we learned about the witch hunts, and how anyone who was suspected of witchcraft was hanged. What could you call what I could do, if not witchcraft, after all?
My eyes felt like they were glazing over, so I decided that I had had enough of history and Nazis for one day. I pushed my textbook aside and looked at the clock. It was 8:45. It was still pretty early. I considered pulling out my journal and writing in it, but as I was reaching into my backpack to grab it, my phone vibrated.
From: Leslie
Omg laurel u wil nvr guess wut I just herd!!!!!
I smiled. Oh, Leslie. You and your cell phone lingo. I hit “reply,” and typed out a response.
To: Leslie
What?
I waited a minute, putting my books back in my backpack. Then the response came.
From: Leslie
Theres goin 2 b a HUGE prty @ k’s nxt wk! u haf 2 come!
I frowned. “K” probably stood for “Kristin,” but what made this particular party so special? Kristin was always having parties.
To: Leslie
Kristin has parties all the time. What makes this one so special that I have to go?
The response was almost immediate, as if she knew what I would say, and had the response ready beforehand.
From: Leslie
Bcuz her parents wont b there & Quinn wil!
That made me pause. Her parents wouldn’t be there. I couldn’t tell my parents that, for sure, or they would never let me go. I didn’t have the courage to sneak out if they refused to let me go. If it weren’t for the second part of the text, I would have never even considered lying to them, but there was something about Quinn, even though we had just met, that intrigued me.
To: Leslie
So how are we going to do this? I need a bulletproof alibi.
I turned off my light and lay back on my bed. I closed my eyes, waiting for the phone to vibrate again with Leslie’s brilliant plan. It didn’t. Instead, I fell asleep.