Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ The Priest, The Rebel and The Ordinary ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Marianne

I’m running, my backpack strap is sliding off my shoulder and I am late to one of my most important classes I had ever asked for. My attempt at catching my breath isn’t working and I can feel beads of sweat dripping down my oily forehead. I knew I should’ve reminded myself to put my alarm clock on. But noooo. Mom thought it’d be better to come home from work at five in the morning. A bunch of baloney. But, my most ‘important’ class I’m missing is going on with things that I could care less for five more minutes. Did you realize the sarcasm about the important class I speak of? Yeah, didn’t think so. And it’s only a Monday and I’ve yet to have breakfast.
“What have I been telling you, Mister Reid?! It’s only the third month of a new school year and you’re already trying to cut class. You little punk.” My principle, Mr. Hamm, is shouting at some kid while wagging a rolled up news paper in his face. Typical Mr. Hamm. “What do expect us to do this time? Send you home, put you in ISS or clean up ‘allll’ of the bathrooms in every floor of this crappy building?” Did I mention Mr. Hamm hates his job? It’s all for the money, of course.
Walking up to the nearest restroom, the two turn heads from the squeaking sounds of my black flats. I’ve been caught. “Mr. Hamm. Nice seeing you sir.”
“Go to class Miss Irving.” He grumbles.
Mr. Hamm is around his late forties. He has thin greasy black hair always slicked back, rectangular shaped black frames, the same short sleeved button ups and the most horrendous B-O on this living biosphere. When he wanted to converse with me at sometime before school I had always secured us to be at least 12 inches apart. Nonetheless, he had a knack for staring right down at you no matter how tall you are.
The kid, though. The one that Mr. Hamm was yelling at, he looked really familiar. It’s the first time that I’ve seen his face in this school too. Before being escorted by Mr. Hamm, he looked up at me and gave me this frustrated glare. Chills went through my spine and neck hairs because his glare was just that creepy.
“Marianne!” A sharp and loud knuckle crushing punch pushed up against my forearm.
“Dude!” I shouted in pain and agony.
“Suck it up, you baby.”
It was Lynn, one of my close friends. She was the abusive one out of the group that we hung around with. We’ve been friends since the fifth grade and she’s gotten more aggressive each year. To be honest, she’s the only person I can’t stand up to just because of my wimpy frame.
“Can’t you be nice for at least one day?”
She looked at the tiled floor in thought. With a smirk, she replied to, “Never.” It was sooo typical of her. “Why were you late this morning?”
“Mom had one of her ‘business meetings’ last night. She was pretty tipsy from what I saw.”
She laughs. “I love your mom.”
“Yeah because you and her actually have something in common.”
“And that is?” She wanted me to say it. Her eyes are begging for me to say it.
“…Booze. Lots of it.”
She nods her head with a proud smile. Lynn was a drunkard and she loved herself for it. I think she needs help. “Heck yeah.”
Then I thought back. That kid getting in trouble by Mr. Hamm.
“Hey, do you know this one kid about my height with white and black hair, a piercing like, right above his eyebrow and with some emo looking bracelets?”
“I think so. Did he have a bunch of tattoos up and down his arms?”
I shrugged as if I really paid attention to his arms. “Uh, I guess.”
“Yeah. That’s Frank Reid. He’s one of those kids that you wouldn’t be friends with.” The tone of her voice drowned in caution.
“Why say that?”
“Dude,” she starts off as if I was incredibly stupid. “He knocked a teacher out last year.”
I felt a gasp burn my throat. “Seriously?”
“Ch-yeah. He doesn’t even talk to anyone because they’re too afraid to even look at him.”
“That’s… sad.”
“Very.”
What still left me trying to figure out was him knocking a teacher out. For what reason and why? He must’ve gotten suspended for a long while or send to Juvenile Jail. Despite hearing all these un-necessary details about this Frank, I wanted to meet him. Make friends with the guy or something. Knocking a teacher out doesn’t mean I should be afraid of him or something. If one really moody day, I could’ve done the same thing myself.

It was lunch time and I was still thinking about Frank Reid. Was I attracted to bad boys or was it the glare that he gave me that made him so interesting? This was heavily unlike me to even be thinking about bad boys. Fact is; I hate boys who think they’re bad or who try looking cool by dumping kids smaller their size into trash cans. Bullies are the term somewhat similar to the term ‘bad boys’. Both are rude, they like to point out the littlest mistakes people make and make fun of them for it. I should also mention that they pick out the girls who also think they’re bad. I’m, for one, am not a bad kid. I try not to skip class (to avoid the temptation), I’m actually friendly to other people and getting along with others is my specialty, not bullying others. But who in the right mind would knock a teacher out? I mean come on, it’s your teacher!
“Yo, Irving!”
“What?!” I shouted back to whoever yelled at me first. I’m frustrated, okay?
It was my group of friends surrounding one another. Was I spacing out?
One of them held up their hands out in a surrendering matter with frightened eyes. “You alright, Mari?”
No, I was not. I’m frustrated about that the fact that this Frank dude wouldn’t disappear from my mind. Why couldn’t his image leave my head?
“Yeah. Sure.” I folded my arms across my arm and stared at my feet. I didn’t get enough sleep last night for some unknown reason. The throbbing of a headache stabbed the back of my head. It’s not even time to go home and yet I’m already tired.
“You okay buddy?” Lynn wondered.
I shrugged. “Sort of.”
“Sort of? So is that a yes or no?”
Would I really want to let Lynn know what’s up with me or do I let it slide maybe thinking Frank will be gone from my head in a matter of hours? Besides that, everyone else is here and maybe they heard of Frank Reid too? I don’t know. “What grade is Frank in?”
She raised her brows in astonishment. “He’s a sophomore, like us. Why?”
“Just wondering. Do you have any classes with him?”
She shakes her head. “I thought you did?”
“I do?”
“Duh. I think it was Business Management class, but he never goes in there. When he does it’s either for a field trip to McDonald’s or something.”
I nodded along. “Really?”
“What’s up with you and Frank Reid?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
I groaned in frustration. “Do you always have to ask what everything means? God!”
She scoffed with her mouth gape from my sudden agitation. “Why are you so freaking moody today?”
The bell for next period beeped over the intercom. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Stumbling back inside through a sea of students, I wanted to get this day over with. The feeling and thought of being in my bed sleeping sounded really good as of right now. Not to mention taking a nice hot shower with those scented gels from those cheap dollar stores.
Look on the bright side, Marianne; at least you’ll be going home with something to think about.

I freaking hate sitting in the front of the classroom. The feeling of everyone’s eyes staring at the back of my head gave me chills and made me terribly over wrought with my self esteem. If I stand up to go put something back in a cupboard, there will be at least one person who coughs, ‘Loser’ in a sentence while looking at me.
On my right was one of the kids considered being rebels as well. His name was Jared and he was moved to the front of the class for being a disturbance to the students in the back row of the room. He was cool to talk to. The only days he wasn’t good to have a conversation is when he balls up his fists and threatens some kid to come over and fight him. Seen it all before and it happened…once.
“Hey,” I whispered to him as we both do our paper work quietly.
“What up home girl?” He said and took one ear bud out of his left ear.
“You know Frank Reid, right?”
“Why do you wanna know?”
“I just do. So do you know him or not?”
He nods, pauses and then nods again. “I guess you can say that.”
“Like how do you know each other?”
He drops his pencil and faces his body towards me. “You into him or something?”
“Sure.”
He chokes out a sarcastic laugh. “I’m sure you do.”
“So do you know him or not?” I repeated once more.
“We cool, I guess.” He said with a simple shrug. “I mean, except for that one time.”
My eyes widened with interest. “What one time? What happened?”
“Dang girl. You on a roll today.” He looks over his shoulder to check on our teacher who had her eyes glued to the computer monitor. “One day, me and him went to Churches, you know, that one chicken place?”
“Uh, yeah. Keep going.”
“I said, ‘Dawg, I’m so hungry’. Then he was all like, ‘Let’s steal some’. And you know how much of a good kid I am.” He jokes with a witty smirk. “Anyways, I said, ‘Dawg, I have some money’. And then he’s all like, ‘No, that’s okay. Let’s see how it goes’. Then, he left to go inside and I was waiting outside getting kinda worried because I don’t steal or stuff. About five minutes later, the stupid idiot came running out with a bucket of chicken and the manager of the place was running after him. It was the stupidest thing I have ever seen.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Then, he got caught by the po-po. Stupid retard.”
“Was it the first time he got caught by the police?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. I’d say it’s like his tenth time.”
“Tenth?!” No one wonder everyone’s afraid of him.
“Yep. Now I suggest you don’t hang out with bad kids like him. You’ll really regret it. “And I took that as a warning. Something behind the tone of his voice made it sound like I really needed to watch myself. Though, what he said could’ve been unbelievably exaggerated. “I’m not kidding.”
I nod. “Okay then.” I’m not convinced yet. I had to find out what he’s like. “Does he have any friends or something? What I heard is that he doesn’t have any friends, but I don’t know what to believe?”
He shrugs. “He hangs out with this one dude, but they aren’t even friends.” He scoffs at the mention of ‘friends’.
“Well then what’s the dude’s name?”
“Bill something.”
“Is he like a sophomore or something?”
“No. He’s a senior, I think. He’s a bad kid too. You better watch out for him.”
“Wow.” The schools populated over hundreds of bad kids and it’s only two that I’ve heard of so far. And they say Littleton, Colorado is such a go-lucky and happy place.
“I can hook you up with Frankie if you want.”
“NO!” I jumped as my response. The teacher looked up at us dangerously. I coughed. “I mean, don’t do that.”
“Geez, girl. All you gotta’ say is no. No need to be all up in my face.” He remarks sarcastically.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
My muscles are tensed up. I wasn’t afraid of this Frank guy, was I? Well, the mention of his name kind of gives me chills and the memory of that angry glare pops up every now and then. I’m not afraid. I can’t be. It’s just some dude who isn’t even five foot four or higher. He has tattoos; big deal. He’s gotten caught by the police about ten times; kind of concerned about that. Anyways, if no one tried to be friendly then why not I be the first? Sounds like a good idea to me.

“Don’t do it!”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to lose you! You’re, like, my best friend!”
I sighed as a reply to Lynn’s reaction to a simple statement. “What’s so bad about it? Maybe he might be mean at first or maybe he might be really friendly.” She shakes her head in disagreement. “How would you even know? You’ve never even spoken to the guy before.”
“Yes I have!”
“Then what did you say?”
“Uhhh.” She struggles to find her excuse. “Oh! One time, during Chemistry, he asked for a pencil. So I gave him mine and he never gave it back to me.”
“So? It’s just a pencil.”
“And?! It was my favorite pencil!”
I groaned stuffing my face into my cold palms. Of course Lynn would have some sort of lie planned ahead of her. I don’t think she has him for Chemistry. “You’re so dumb.” I murmured.
“You are, you hooker.”
Shaking my head, I can see my house up ahead. The resolution to all my problems. Waving my friend off, I said, “See you.” As she waves back to me, I sprouted in my front yard and darted inside through the double doors. I was thankful that the doors weren’t locked this time. “I’m home!” My voice echoes through the empty hallways of it being a sign that no one was home. I frowned in disappointment after I got no reply. Oh well.
I let my backpack strap slip off my shoulder and dangle helplessly on my finger tips. Throwing it across the living room, it lands perfectly on top of the coffee table. After examining every empty and dark space filling the entire living room, I sigh and take off to go into my room.
My room is average I guess. It has pictures of me and friends and family hanging on my purple walls. My white rug is soft and squishy feely when you set foot inside the room. Like a foamy substance glued underneath the carpeted floor almost. My bed covers are themed with pink and purpled flowers with all sorts of stuffed bears aligned along my pillows. Now I know what you’re thinking, “You sleep with bears, dolls and crap?” No. I don’t and when I would, it’s usually for my five year old cousins who come over for sleepovers. When I want some really cuddling action, I turn to my pillow. What? It’s normal.
I jump on my computer that faces in the corner near my book shelve and the window. After checking every e-mail full of spammers and fake people trying to bribe me with a hundred dollar gift card for Wal-Mart, I hurled myself at my window sill and picked the blinds up. It was a cloudy day and the weather was nice and cool. Fall was almost here and the trees were starting to fade into an orangeish red. The neighbor’s kids who lived in front of us ran out of their house with a round and big green ball. It was three kids with two being boys and the other one being a girl. She also seemed like the oldest out of the two. She takes a seat outside of the door and analyzes her two brothers playing catch. She looked extremely bored and miserable almost like her parents forced her to watch over her brothers. I wish I was in her shoes. Having any kind of sibling would mean the world to me. She probably could care less of what I thought.
The phone connected in my room rings. I get up and answer it while collapsing on top of my bed.
With a simple, “Hello?” I was greeted by my grandma.
“Hey sweetie. Where’s your mommy?”
“I don’t know.” I replied sourly.
“Aww. You still mad at her from this morning?”
I can feel a lump appear in my throat. “Mm-hmm.”
“I’ma talk with your momma later about the car arrangements. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes.” Okay, being the only child can have its good factors sometimes. And I’m perfectly fine with it being that way.
“Good. Tell your momma I called, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I love you sweetheart. Bye!”
“Bye!” Click. The line goes dead.
If it’s not mom or dad spoiling me, then it’s my grandma doing the spoiling for them. I could say she does a better job at spoiling me than them and it’s the truth. But no matter what, my own parents are never there when I really need them. I grew up to know the times when they can be there for me and when they can’t because it’s usually for some business meetings, A.K.A, ‘drink all night’ parties with their co-workers. I think today’s another one of those parties.
My stomach growls. It’s not from being hungry, but having so much anxiety curl up in the pit of my stomach.
Frank Reid.
I don’t care what other people say. I want to know this Frank Reid guy. He seems so…inviting. His well structured face, small nose and pierced lower lip all looked so interesting. His eyes…really devilish and agonizing. Those tattoos, they have to have stories behind them. His behavior and attitude…sounds kind of sexy. No lie. But would I be willing to put myself in danger if everything goes wrong? I mean, he can shoot me and make it look like an accident or something. Or worse… well, I can’t think of anything as worse as getting shot, but it’s a scary thought. Would anyone else accept the fact that I actually want to befriend him unlike the two hundred sophomores in the school who can’t even look at him without thinking of shooting the living daylights out of each other? Seriously.
The sound of the noisy doorbell from downstairs corrupted my thoughts. Could it be that mom actually came home earlier than expected? I jumped from my bed, paced down the stairs and ran up to the door. Peering into the peephole, it was mom and dad. They hardly go anywhere with each other anymore.
Opening the door, I was greeted with a black business coat shoved in my arms. “Thanks mom.”
Dad follows behind her and gives a tired smile at me as well as a pat on the shoulder. Dad never spoke much.
The two went their separate ways quietly and quickly. Something was up. They weren’t talking to each other or forcing each other to make dinner or something. Nobody makes dinner anymore so why should I act surprised?
Coming from the office in the back of the kitchen was mom wiping pounds of make-up of her face with a wet cloth. Mom looks like me with fare skin, brunette hair and olive eyes. She looks forty years older than what her actual age is. The dark and bruised bags under her eyes tell every kind of stress and doubt hiding behind that blank expression.
“What do you want for dinner, Mari?” She asks while flipping through a phone book.
Sighing, I replied, “Take out?” That’s the answer she wants to hear when she’s looking through the phone book. Always.
“Good choice, kid.” She mutters while holding her cell next to her ear. In the other hand she already lit up a new cigarette. A faded red color is smudged in the middle of the wrapped toxin meaning she already had it in her mouth by the time she got inside.
As mom calls the Chinese place, I watch dad slowly take a seat in front of the flat screen TV in his favorite chair. Dad’s a quiet man. You barely could hear him make a conversation with anyone. Like me, he’s also a brunette, but with light blue eyes, pale skin and round rim-wired glasses on the tip of his nose. He kind of reminds me of my Algebra teacher, you know, with the weak posture and nothing else to do but be boring most of the time. Honestly, if he could be as talkative and criticizing as mom, he would make the perfect counselor for me to talk things out with.
“So what did you do at school today, Marianna?” That’s flat out weird. Mom NEVER asks me about school.
“It was okay, I guess.”
Taking a long drag of the short toxin, she exhales out the puff of thin smoke and nods. “That’s good.” You can tell in her face, however, that she didn’t give a crap. Like I said, not surprising. She digs in her pockets of her slacks and pulls out forty bucks wrapped with a rubber band and hands it to me. “For the take out,” she adds.
I watch her head upstairs to take a shower and go to sleep. For her to sleep at an early time only means that she has a hangover. A severe one. I’m guessing she’s had more than a dozen of cans, glasses or shots. Ask mom about her favorite drink and I assure you it’s not tequila. ‘That’s for sluts’ as she recalls back to tequilas. Hilariously crude, but somewhat offending. I wonder how dad would be like if he was drunk.
No more than thirty minutes later, the take out delivery dude shows up at the door. I know almost half of the people who work at the take out place. From ordering so much from there, I memorized most of their names, especially the new ones. Today was Emily. The name didn’t exactly fit her image.
“Hey Marianna.” Emily greets with a miserable sigh.
Emily is…gothic, I guess you could say. She has black dyed hair with purple highlights at the ends, a long bang that covers half of her left eye, piercings on her nose, eyebrows, lips and heavy make-up. Not to mention the saddest tone of voice I’ve ever heard.
“Hey Emily. Having a good day so far?” I started off with the usual conversation starter as I fished through my pockets for the rolled up cash.
“Not really.” She replies, smacking her gum loud and obnoxiously. “My boyfriend wanted to bang me.”
I almost choked on my saliva. “Really?” I gulped down a small chuckle. “That’s…that’s nice to know.” This girl was hilarious too. “How much was it?”
“Thirty five, fifty.”
I finally managed to find the wad of cash and handed it to the girl. “Keep the change. Your tip for the day.” I reached for the boxes of Chinese already smelling the heavy aroma enter the house.
With a smirk, she said, “Thanks. You’re a real pal.” She turns on her heel and head back to her car.
I shut the door as soon as I hear her car drive down the quiet street and away from the neighborhood. “Dinners here!” I called out as if anyone will actually listen.
Mom suddenly comes down stairs in her pajamas and a satisfied look on her face. “Mm. Smells good.” Yeah, mom. It’s like this is the first time eating the stupid take out. “I say we go and eat at the dinner table today.” Mom was in a good mood. It’s starting to scare me a little.
Dad heard her talk about eating in the dinner table and follows the both of us toward the dining area. She sets up the plastic plates of Chinese food in the center of the table and runs back to the refrigerator to take out cans of Coca Cola. She hands them to dad and I and we all take seats with mom facing the opposite direction of dad and with dad sitting next to mom. I sat a chair away from the two of them.
The sounds of our forks scraping the plastic and mouths full of food could only be heard in the dining area. The neighbor’s dog barks loudly in the background of our inaudible noises. None of us budge expect for when we move our arms and hands to do certain necessities.
“Grandma called.” I said recalling back to our phoned conversation.
“Really? What did she need?”
I shrugged and let my eyes wonder around the dining room. “I don’t know.” The last time we ate at the dinner table was when I passed to the fourth grade. We had steak and cooked salad for dinner, back when mom actually cooked. Now it’s nothing but take out, pizza and frozen dinner meals. I hate it with a fiery and burning passion. My family was never considered the typical or normal kinds of loving and caring families like the ones on TV shows. “She said she’ll take me to school tomorrow.”
Mom frowns. “Why? I wanted to take you to school tomorrow.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a good idea.”
“Well why not?”
I heaved a sigh through my nose. “What do you think happened this morning mom?”
She purses her lips together and hangs her head low. “I’m sorry for waking up late. But someday you’re going to have to wake up on your own one day without your momma’s help.” So she was telling me to grow up. Just great. Hysterical, actually.
“How can I wake up on my own one day if you’re not home on time to take me to school?”
“It was the business meeting last night. I always come home late.”
“Mom, don’t think I don’t know what you do at your business meetings. I watched you almost fall on your face when you got inside.” I could feel my throat burn from having to defend myself.
She remains quiet for a while. Dad, on the other hand, is watching the two of us go back and forth at each other. He puts a napkin to his mouth and lets out an awkward burp/cough.
I get up and took my plate and threw it into the trash can. Mom’s anxious eyes watch my every move as I scattered back upstairs. On the way there, I can hear my mom tell my dad, “She hates me”. She could be right on some occasions with this day being that occasion. Mom knew it and so did grandma and dad; I didn’t love her at all nor did she. I’m okay with that too. No matter how hard she tries to make me happy, all she’s doing is making things worse for the two of us. I prefer the mom who didn’t know I existed and forgets my name half of the time. I think I would’ve been better off as a son too.
With all that thought through, I jump into the shower for twenty minutes and head directly to bed. Maybe tomorrow won’t be as bad as I’m hoping it to be. Maybe I’ll see Frank again, maybe I won’t. I’m putting my life at risk for this dude. He better be worth meeting.