Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 51

"Hey, so, Jane. When were you gonna tell us you were engaged?" I asked sarcastically, my eyes widened at her. She looked at me, "I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"You could've, you know, told us that you were dating him first."

"Oh, yea, because I've told you about every boyfriend I've had in my life. Please," she rolled her eyes. She ruffled my hair, (reaching up to do it, seeing as I was taller than her,) and said, "Don't worry, little brother. He's a good person." I scoffed, "I'll believe it when I see it." She put her arms out in front of her, "But you have!" I laughed, "He's gonna have to prove he's a good guy if he wants me to believe it." She rolled her eyes again, "Whatever, little brother." She winked, "Not like I really care about your opinion, anyway." I laughed, "Now that I know for sure." She smiled and walked toward the kitchen.

I sat on the porch, slumped over with my hands in my lap, and stared out at the street. "Hey, man," Robert said, walking up next to me. I looked up at him, and then back at the street. "Hey." He sighed, "Listen, I'm sorry Jane didn't tell you guys about this earlier. I told her she should, but she just kept saying it wasn't necessary." He shrugged, and looked at me, smiling as he continued, "Guess she didn't think we would last." I ran my hand through my hair and replied, "Don't blame her there. No one else ever has." He laughed and sat down next to me. "This is a nice street," he said, looking around at the houses. I shrugged, "I guess. I liked my old one better."

"Ah. You just moved here?" I nodded. "By force?" he asked. I nodded again, and then added, "Yea, after my mom hadn't even called me over a year." Robert seemed surprised, "Excuse me?"

"I haven't live with my parents for a long time now. And then, all of the sudden, my mom calls me and tells me she and dad are buying houses and we're moving out of Grandma's and coming to live with them." Robert whistled, "Wow."

"Jane didn't tell you any of this?"

"Jane didn't really like talking about...family life."

"Ah. Of course she didn't," I yawned and stretched my arms up above my head, "Who would, with this family? Not exactly a turn-on, you know?" Robert sort of nodded slightly. He was staring out in front of him, looking very confused. He opened his mouth to say something more, but I stood up and said, "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm gonna go inside and get some dessert." He smiled, but still seemed completely confused and curious, as he said, "I'll join you. I hope it tastes as good as is smells."

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 18

Russel

Amber smiles at her and Venice smiles back, "Oh, that's nice. Nice to meet you."

Her cheeks are slightly flushed and I smile. "What are you doing here?" she asks.

Amber smiles at me and says to her, "Shopping! We're new here, and I wanted to

check out the stores in this mall." She smiles, "Well stocked for such a small town!"

Venice smiles and nods. "I heard there's a theater here?" I ask Venice. She nods,

"Yea, on the west side." Amber looks over at Abercrombie and Fitch and her face

lights up. I look at Venice, "You wanna see something? I'm sick of shopping." She

blushes, "Um, thanks, but I was actually just gonna head home..." I shrug, "OK, some

other time." She smiles and nods, walking toward the exit doors. "I'm gonna see a

movie anyway," I tell Amber. She shrugs and walks off.

I pick up Amber outside the theater after the movie ends and we drive back home.

Amber runs into the house, saying something about not wanting to miss some show. I

sigh as I park my Jeep and get out, swinging the keys around my index finger as I walk

out of the garage. I see something hanging from a tree in the distance and pocket my

keys, walking toward it to figure out was it is.

When I reach the big oak tree, I discover a tire swing. I smile and run my hand over

the worn out rope, remembering making tire swings when I was a little boy back in

England. I look down and am surprised to see a pond, hiding under the small hill the oak

tree sits upon. I smile at the tire swing, knowing exactly what its for, and walk up to the

top of the hill, wondering who might have lived here before.

"Russel?"

"Who is this?" I ask, looking through a stack of papers to find a recipe for peach cobbler with

one hand and holding the house phone up to my ear with the other. "Abby." I drop the pile

down on my hand and then breath in and continue to search through the pile. "Hi, Abby."

"Hey. Um, so, I was...just wondering, you know, how your new house, and school, and

everything is?" I pull out the purple sheet of paper with the recipe written on it and reply,

coldly, "Its fine. Why are you calling me, Abby?"

"Um...I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"I'm fine. Is that it?"

"Um...yea, I guess."

"Ok. Bye." Abby sighs, "Bye, Russel." I hang up and walk back into the kitchen. "Who was that?"

Stacy asks, taking the recipe from my hand and opening the fridge, pulling out the listed

ingredients. "Abby." She turns abruptly, "Stella?" I nod. She sucks in a breath, "Wow." She

turns back toward the counter and says, as she started to peel a peach, "What a snake."

"Tell me about it," I sigh, pouring flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and milk into a bowl. "What

are you guys doing?" Amber asks as she comes downstairs. "Making peach cobbler," I reply.

"Mm! Can I help?"

"Sure. Come on."

I sit at the kitchen table, eating the peach cobbler with my dad and Kenny, and stare at

the wall in front of me, thinking of Abby. Most people considered her as a kind of prize

girlfriend. She was one of those people whose ex-boyfriends would say to people, "Yea, I dated

her," and instantly gain respect. But I never saw her that way. Sure, she was gorgeous. But that

wasn't why I liked her. In fact, her popularity and, frankly, ego, was a turn-off for me. But when

I started to get to know her better, I thought I saw something there, something that no one else

ever saw. She seemed to be, underneath all her make up and brand name clothes, an actually

cool person. I went out with her for five months, all along thinking she really was a good

person, and then she dumped me for a new guy with a higher social status. I was shocked and

crushed. I had thought that I was falling in love, and she crushed me. I wondered afterward how

I could have fallen for all of her schemes. It seems to me I had been in love with my idea of her

rather than the actual her. She wasn't my first heartbreak, but she was the most painful.

© 2010

Can You if Out it Figure

Before had she way the just life her live could she, now least at. Less care not probably could they, honestly, though, her to nice be to way their of out going or looks weird her giving be would one no that, her for bad feel to pretending be would one no that relieved rather was she, fact in. Her about cared one no that her harm not did it. "Now why, before did ever one no? Will one no course of." Thought she,"Notice will one no maybe." Way her glanced even one no. Disease her about out finding after school at back day first her was today. Day normal no was today but. Day normal any on clothing of item unflattering an such wear never would she. Forever like seemed what in time first the for hat a wearing was she that noticed had anyone if see to around looked she.

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 17

Venice

Saturday mornings in the countryside are easy to sum up in one word:

boring.

Every teenager in the entire town can be found, at one point or other in the course of the time between 8:30 AM and 2:00 PM, hanging around the general store. I pull into the dirt parking lot at 12:43 AM, yawning because I just woke up. I slept in way too late. I walk past Erica, Gene, and a few of their groupies into the general store, walking immediately over to the freezer in the back. The freezer is always fully stocked and on Saturday mornings it is constantly refilled, seeing as every teen who walks in here, (which, like I said, is every teen,) walks out with perhaps a few groceries, but always a soda. I pull out a bottle of Cherry Coke and walk up the counter where Joe is fixing up an Italian soda for a middle school girl in tight jeans and a button-down shirt that has lace that hugs her hips. She's also wearing boots, but that's nothing unusual in this town. I smile at Joe as the girl leaves the store. "That'll be all, then?" he asks in his friendly tone, motioning toward my soda. I nod and he says, "A dollar ninety-five." Even as I hand him the cash I roll my eyes and say, "Honestly, Joe, ordinary sodas cost at least 3 bucks, and with all the Cokes you got sold every Saturday, you could be rolling in the cash if you'd just upgrade your prices!" He laughs in a milky way and shoos off the notion with his hand. "No, no. I don't want to charge you kids anymore than I had to pay when I was your age, and I already feel bad because that price right there is already more than that. I'm not putting up my prices one bit. Besides, like you said, everyone buys soda here on Saturdays. If I upped the price, maybe they'd buy it somewhere else!" I laugh, "Like where, Kenny's?" Kenny's is the only bar in town, and its a shame for people who like the occasional bar trip because its a lousy one, as everyone knows. Every drink you get there is warm. Joe smiles and waves me off, and I smile back and put a five dollar bill in the tip box. Just as I step out of the store, the Erica/Gene and followers head over to their trucks. I smile and take a seat on the bench that is now open, popping open my cherry cola and soaking in the country sun.

I drive down the road, contemplating what to do with the rest of my day. I slow down by the theater. Nah. I slow down by the hair salon. Um, no. I slow down by the nail salon. Not today. I slow down by the mall. I park.

I walk out of Charlotte Russe holding a bag and sipping a Frapuccino. I see Molly from a distance and she waves to me. I sit down at a bench by the fountain in the middle of the mall and wave back. She glances at the person she's standing with and walks over to me. "Hey, Venti," she says. She smiles. I laugh, "Wow, no one's called me that since the fourth grade." She laughs, "You can say that again. I remember some people used to call me 'Folly' because I fell a lot." I laugh, "Wow. That it is...beyond-words lame." She chuckles, "Definitely. Well, see you around, Venti." She smiles and walks away. "Hey, Venti," a voice from behind me says. I turn and see Russel standing there, grinning, arms crossed over his chest. "Oh, jeez. You didn't even go to middle school with me, much less elementary." He puts a hand over his heart, "Ah, but I was there in spirit." I smile, "Ya. In England. A grade ahead of me." He shrugs, "Same difference. So, what's with the nickname, anyway? You drink coffee a lot when you were a wee little bug?"

"A wee little bug."

"Mhm."

"I have no comment on that."

"Ah, but that was a comment."

"No, I didn't drink a lot of coffee when I was a wee little bug. I had a crush on a boy named Kenti, so they combined our names. Like a celebrity couple."

"Kenti."

"Mhm."

"You had a crush on a boy named Kenti."

"Yup."

"Wow," Russel laughs, he tilts his head at me, "it's when you meet people with those kinds of names that you wonder what was going on in their parents' minds." He runs his hand through his hair, "Maybe it was the pain-killer drugs that did it. But what about the dad? You'd think he wouldn't let his wife make that kind of a decision when she's on the labor bed." I smack him on the arm and he laughs, just as a girl who's probably fifteen or so walks up to him, hooking her arm through his and smiling at me. "Hello, I'm Amber. Who are you?" She blinks her long eyelashes at me and I cringe at her British accent, blushing from the slight jealousy in my gut. "I'm Venice."

"Hi, Venice! I'm Russel's sister." Well, duh, Venice. She has a British accent. Honestly.

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 16

James

Jesse sees me coming down the stairs and says, "Hey, do we have any Reese's Puffs?" I blink at him, "I don't know." He sighs deeply, as if the lack of this cereal is the most tragic thing in the world. Oh, the things my brother worries about. Its sad, really. "Morning, boys," my dad says as he comes into the kitchen from mom's and his bedroom. "Morning, dad," I reply as Jesse continues to search our cupboard for his beloved breakfast food. "Dad, do we have Reese's Puffs?" Jesse asks frantically. Dad laughs, "Of course!" I roll my eyes as he opens the lower cupboard and moves the flour and sugar to pull out a box of Reese's Puffs. "Addicts," I mutter as I take a muffin from the fridge. I walk into the front yard and the sun shines down on me. I smile and look over at The Blackbird, glinting in the morning sunlight. My smile grows as I walk over to it and put on my helmet, climbing onto the bike and turning out of the driveway before speeding down to town.

"Morning, James," Joe says as he rinses down the sidewalk outside of his general store. I never quite understood why he rinsed his sidewalk everyday, but we all have our habits, so I let it slide and, flashing him a smile as I dismount my bike and take off my helmet, putting it on the handlebars, I walk into the general store. Marley walks past me and out to her Mustang, and though I strongly dislike her personality, I'm amazed by the fact that she can still look beautiful, even when she is wearing pajamas and her hair is a catastrophe. I walk over to the toast section and pull out the first loaf of sour dough that I see, heading up to the cashier with a yawn. A tired-looking, (not like everyone else,) Thomas stands in front of me, buying milk and cinnamon rolls. He sees me and says, "Morning, Luther." I don't understand why he always calls me by my last name. "Morning, Peterson," I respond, stepping up to the counter as he puts some bills back into his wallet, dropping a five in the tip box. I pull out my wallet and mimick his action before putting my items onto the counter. "Good party." He laughs, "Thanks, I guess. See you around." He waves and walks out of the store. I buy my items and step outside of the store just as Erica walks up with Gene, Lucas, Kelly and Leighton. "Morning, James!" Leighton says brightly, smiling widely. What is with her lately? "Um, ya, morning, Leighton." Erica narrows her eyes at me and pulls a coke bottle up to her lips, taking a long chug. "What's up, Luther," she says as she slinks past me and sits on the bench that sits next to the apple display. Lucas- her not-quite-boyfriend -sits down next to her, also holding a coke. Actually, I notice, as Kelly and Leighton sit on the railing outside of the store and Gene leans against the post holding up the metal awning, all of them are holding coke bottles. I watch them for a moment, all sitting there, simultaneously taking sips of their cokes and watching me. They just have this air to them, in everything they do. Its like, honestly, how the heck do they manage to make drinking coke outside of the local general store look like a magazine-worthy picture? "Not much," I finally say. I shake my head slightly and say, "See you guys later." Leighton says cheerily, "Bye, James!" and Erica tips her chin slightly in my general direction before looking out at the street, taking another sip of her coke.

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 15

Thomas

I walk down the stairs and the house empty. The phone is ringing and I walk over to it, pressing down the talk button and holding it up to my ear. "THOMAS ROBERT PETERSON!" Laylee yells into the phone. "Jeez, little sister, turn down the volume of your shampoo!"

"What?"

"Never mind. What are you yelling about?"

"Why didn't you tell me your father's in the hospital?!" I'm quiet for a minute as I reflect over Laylee calling Christopher my father rather than 'dad' or at least, 'your dad'. I mean, its not like he's her actual father, but he did adopt her. Sure, Cindy got full custody, but he still adopted her. I shake my head and say, "Why would I tell you that?" She falls quiet. "Because I care about him," she could say. Instead, she changes a single word..."Because I care about you." I don't understand Laylee. Nothing about her makes any sense to me. "I love you, Thomas." I sigh, running my hand through my hair, "I know, baby. I love you too." She's quiet. "Are you...are you going to go see him?"

"Did they figure out insurance and all that?"

"Ya. Mom helped." I hate that she calls Cindy 'mom'. I shouldn't, but I do. "Then no. He's a big boy, he can take care of himself," I say, mimicking my dad's attitude toward me every night before he goes out, leaving me alone. "Thomas-"

"I'm fine, Laylee. I'll see you on Monday."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

By 11 o'clock, I'm completely and utterly sick of my house. I get my car keys and go outside. The sun is bright in the sky, but I can tell that it rained last night. I get in my car and pull out of my driveway. I drive down Pike street and into town. I park in front of the general store and get out. "Morning, Thomas!" Joseph says with a smile as he pours a bag of apples into the wooden crates set up outside his store. Joseph is a sixty-something man with white hair and a big smile. He goes by Joe, the general-store-owner trademarked name. "Morning, Joe." I smile at him and walk into his store, taking an apple from the display. I walk over to the freezers and search for the cheapest gallon of milk. I turn my head and see Marley walk up, yawning. She's wearing shorts with cats on them and a tank top that says 'Sleep Tight' with a jean jacket over it. She has untied converse on and her hair is s a mess. Even so, she's beautiful. "Morning, Marley," I say, pulling out a milk that costs $2.95. She turns to me, "Oh, hi, Thomas. Morning." She yawns again, "Good party." I smile and turn to go, but then she says, "Hey, are you going to Erica's party next Saturday?" Surprised, I face her again and shake my head. She yawns a third time, "You should. You should bring Venice." She smiles, winks, and pulls a carton of yogurt out of a freezer, turning and walking to the front of the store. I blush and walk off in the direction of the baked goods aisle.

© 2010

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 50

First, a note:

PART 50! YAY YAY YAY YAY! :)

ANYway...

"That was horrible."

"You are truly pathetic."

"You are truly a jerk." Sean laughed and opened the passenger door of his car for me. I slipped

in and he closed the door again, walking over to other side and getting in. "Home?" I asked. He

looked at me, smiled, and said, "Where do you live?"

"MOM?" No response. I looked out the window and watched Sean drive away. I turned to

face the house and once again called out, "Mom?" Still no answer. I saw Pride and Prejudice in

the living room and picked it up. I walked up the stairs to my room and opened the door that

led to Dustin's and my hallway. I walked to the end of the hallway and let myself into the last

room again. I sat down on a little chair and opened the ripped and marked-up old copy of the

best book ever written, smiling as I melted into Jane Austen's world of Elizabeth Bennet and

Mr. Darcy, whose "good opinion, once lost, is lost forever."

I was so lost in the early 1800's that I didn't even realize my brother was calling my name.

Jake, totally clueless of this hallway, always got very confused whenever I was sitting inside. I

suppose he thought the door led to a closet, or something of the sort. Eventually, I left the room

to wash my hands, which were now sticky from sweat because the room I was in was hot and

humid, and I had not wanted to open the window because it was raining outside. When I did

step out of the hallway, closing the door behind me and leaving Pride and Prejudice in the back

room where it could sit and be the beautiful masterpiece it was until I once again opened the

pages and intruded its peace, bringing in the modern world; I finally heard Jake screaming my

name. Worried that he had been calling me for a quite a while, I hurried down to the second

floor. "What's up, Jake?" Jake spun on his heel and practically jump back, startled, "Jeez,

where did you come from?" I tried not to shake my head at his cluelessness as I said, "Um, the

bathroom." He blinked, "Oh. Well didn't you hear me calling?"

"Sorry, no. Did you need something?" He shook his head, "No, I was just wondering if I was the

only one home." I nodded and he went into his room. I walked back upstairs and closed the

door behind me. I turned around and there was Dustin, laying on the bed, holding Pride and

Prejudice up above her as she read. I was sitting next to her, painting my nails white and

keeping Twilight open with my left foot. We both sat there, lost in our two favorite books,

happy and together. I was so startled by this flashback that I wasn't sure what to do. Was it

because Tyler had left that I was having a flashback again? Was it because I met Sean, who made

me think of Dustin? I walked over to the bed, which no longer had Dustin and myself sitting on

it, and sat down. My eyes dampened as I put my fist under my chin, thinking. I felt almost guilty

for this having been my first flashback in quite a while, thought I knew that was foolish. Dustin

wouldn't have wanted me to live the rest of my life in regret.

© 2010

World of Disdain

RANDOM POEM TIME

Welcome to the world of disdain

Come a little closer, feel my pain

Never believe a single word they say

They trick you with their tactics

Then they make you pay

They tell you little secrets

They tell you little lies

And when you reply

They act so surprised

As if they haven't planned

Every minute of this conversation

As if they're not heading towards

A reason why, the destination

Welcome to trickery, laughing, and jokes

Welcome to the place where you will find folks

Talented at making you believe they're what they're not

Now leave as quick as you can

Don't listen to the man

Who tells you this is it,

This is what you've been looking for

Who tells you that you're here

And this is the door

To that place you've always dreamed of

To that place so often spoken of

This, my friend, is the world of disdain

Come, my friend, and you will feel my pain

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 14

Russel

I don't know what it is about the smell of eggs, but it always seems to put me in a good mood. "Eggs!" I sigh with a smile as I step off the last stair of my house, into the dining room. A tired looking Amber and Stacy are already sitting at the table, Stacy lazily moving a spoon around in her cereal bowl, yawning, and Amber taking a bite of a piece of toast while reading her morning devotional. Kenny is in the kitchen, watching as mum makes pancakes in the frying pan. My mum makes English pancakes still, refusing to switch and make them the American way. English pancakes are much life French crépes in that they are thin. My mum has the syrup out and eggs on the oven, so that the pancakes can be enjoyed by everyone in the family-dad, Jameson, and myself prefer them wrapped around eggs, (and perhaps some bacon,) while Kenny, Amber, Stacy, and mum prefer them straight up with syrup. Lellin sits next to the breakfast table in her high chair, getting Cheerios everywhere. "Smells delicious, mum," I say, walking up behind her and putting my hand on her shoulders. She smiles and turns her head slightly, "Thanks, darling. Oh, could you do me a favor?"

"We're having pancakes, remember," I reply. Mum smiles, "Could you wake your father? I tried to get him up, but he refuses to leave his bed until 11 o'clock on Saturdays." She rolls her eyes, "Honestly, its not as if he was up all night working or something. He went to bed at nine last night!" She laughs, "Anyway, would you mind fetching him?" I smile, "Of course, mum. I'll be right back." I walk out of the kitchen, mess up Stacy's already-horrible hair, (to which he replies, "Don't touch my hair!") and walk up the stairs.

"Dad. Get up." My dad groans, "Ten more minutes." I roll my eyes, "Dad, get up," I repeat. He looks at me, "Morning, Russel. He smiles and sits up, stretching. "Did you have fun last night?" I nod, smiling, as I think of Venice walking by me down to the little pond on Thomas's large estate. She almost fell in, and I doubled over laughing at her klutziness. She splashes me, and when I yelled, "Don't splash me!" with a laugh, she mimicked, in a horribly unrealistic British accent, "Don't splawsh may!" I laughed and splashed her back. "That's good," my dad says, getting out of bed. He wears plaid boxers and an oversize T-shirt, similar to my own pajamas. "I'll be down in a minute. What's for breakfast?" I smile, "Pancakes." My dad smiles, too, "Correction. I'll be down in less than a minute." I laugh, close the bedroom door, and go back downstairs to smell the eggs and pancakes.

© 2010

Just In Case You Were Wondering

I have Coulrophobia : the fear of clowns.

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not: Character Descriptions

Venice

Sex: Female

Age: 16, soon to be 17

Hair color: Dark brown (almost black)

Eye color: Light green/ dark aqua

Height: 5'6''

Weight: 113 lbs

Thomas

Sex: Male

Age: 17

Hair color: Blond

Eye color: Blue-green with gold flecks

Height: 6'

Weight: 119 lbs

Russel

Sex: Male

Age: 18 (taken back a grade because of schooling in England)

Hair color: Brown

Eye color: Golden-brown

Height: 6'2''

Weight: 123 lbs

James

Sex: Male

Age: 17

Hair color: Dirty-blonde/light brown

Eye color: Blue

Height: 5'8''

Weight: 117 lbs

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 13

Venice

I've been looking for Thomas for half-an-hour now and he is still nowhere to be found.

I find Laylee putting more sodas into the cooler and rush up to her, "Laylee! Where's your

brother?" I ask. "Oh, he went home," she says, "asked me to handle the party. But don't

worry, you can stay." She smiles and continues to pull sodas out of their cardboard cases.

I raise an eyebrow at her and open my mouth to ask what she means by, 'he went home',

but decide against it. Instead, I take one of the sodas from the cooler and open it, walking

toward the horse stalls at the bottom of the hill the house is perched on.

I walk into the barn and jump slightly, finding Russel studying a big brown horse in the

stall farthest from me. He hears me and turns, then smiles, "Hey," he says, "come to see

the horses?" I smile at the brown beauty and walk over, petting her nose softly. I look at

the other horses and remark, "They sure are beautiful." Russel nods, "Ya." He smiles and

says, "I've got three. We brought 'em here from my old house." I smile, "I've got two horses

and a pony." Russel laughs, "Oh man, I love ponies." I laugh. Russel runs his hand through his

brown hair and I can see gold in his eyes as the sun shines in through the doorway. I lean

against a stall, "So, Russel, what brings you to our little town?" Russel laughs, "I would hardly

call this place little, with the size of everyone's backyard, including my own." I smile and nod in

agreement. "My cousin, Charlie," he pauses, "do you know him?" I think about it for a moment

and then reply, "Yea, I think I have AP English with him." He nods, "Anyway, he and his family

live here, and my parents decided that since we moved to America to be closer to family in the

first place, we might as well actually live close to them, rather than on the other side of the

state. I nod, "That makes sense." He nods too, and looks back at the brown horse. I look away

from him and watch as the horse pushes its nose into Russel's hand. "You lived here your whole

life?" Russel asks, looking away from the horse. I look back at him, my arms crossed over my

chest, as I start to nod, but then say, "Oh, wait, no, actually. I lived in New York until my third

birthday," I laugh, "but I hardly remember that." My eyes sparkle as I say, "The only memory I

still have is this one sweet old black man...he worked in candy store, or a toy store, or

something of the sort. Every time I went there, he would ask me, "And how were the lights last

night, little lady?" And I would reply, "As bright as the apple is big." Then he would laugh and

give me a lollipop or a Pixie stick." I smile at the recollection, "But my mom tells me I loved

the Big Apple. She says every night I would go out and look at the lights of the city and the stars,

and then ask her if there were people in the city in the sky that were looking down at the lights

of New York, like I was looking up at their city." Russel smiles. He looks out of the barn, a full

moon shining bright in the dark country sky. "When I look at the sky," he says, "I think about

how incredible it is that someone on the other side of the world..." he smiles, "that someone in

Britain is also looking at it, seeing exactly the same thing, despite the fact that we are miles and

worlds apart." I smile and look at the moon, too. "There's someone in New York staring at that

moon, too," Russel adds. I nod, "Indeed there is." He smiles at me and looks back at the

sparkling globe in the sky, the one that so many people in so many different lives are all also

watching at this exact moment.

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 12

James

I'm standing by the door, debating whether or not to leave now or linger for a little while longer. Thomas suddenly opens the door, slamming it closed behind me. He looks around frantically and, shocked, I watch as he jogs over to his sister. He says something to her and she nods, her eyebrows furrowed. He hugs her and then takes keys out of his pocket, walking back toward the front door. He bumps me, "Sorry," he mutters as he slips out the door. I look around and then open the door, following him. I walk to my family's car as he walks in the opposite direction toward a beat-up pick-up truck. I look at the huge house and then back at his truck and wonder why his car is so old and worn when he could afford something so much better. I get into my car, planning to just drive home, but Thomas turns onto the street that leads toward only one neighborhood: Pike. Now, understand, Pike is the poorest neighborhood in town. Not exactly a place I would expect on of the most wealthy guys in town to be going. I pull out of his driveway, curious, and follow him to Pike Street. I pull over to one side of the street and watch as he pulls into a driveway, parking. He gets out of the car and walks to the door. I expect him to knock, but he simply puts the key in the lock and pulls the door open, closing it behind him. I sit there for a few minutes, wondering what to do next. He doesn't come out. Confused, I pull out of the street and drive to my house.

"James?"

"Yea?"

"Can I take the Blackbird out?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I just got home, idiot."

"So what?"

"No."

"FINE." Jesse says, slamming the door to his room. I look out and see Misty walking around in her stall. Smiling, I open the back door and walk out toward her.

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 11

Thomas

"Hey, dad, where are you?" I asked, pulling quickly out of Laylee's driveway. My dad groaned into the phone, "by Kenny's," he said, his voice queezy. "I'll be there in a minute," I told him, flipping the phone shut and turning onto Parkway.

"Dad?" I called out, slamming my truck door shut as I jogged up to Kenny's. My dad got up, slowly, from where he was sitting on the ground. I saw the wound immediately. Blood was coming out of his side, and as I helped him carefully to the car, I felt it soak through my shirt. My hand was covered in it as I turned the key in the ignition, and somehow even my hair had droplets of it as I drove toward the hospital. I imagined what would happen if my dad died right there in my car, next to me, covered in blood. Would people believe that I had been trying to help him? Or would they think that I had killed him?

I pulled into the parking lot and quickly ran to the other side of the truck, pulling my dad out and walking with him as he limped toward the doors. As soon as we were inside, people ran to us, taking him from my arms, bringing him quickly to an a long hallway. The doors were pushed open and he was carried in, yelling everywhere and hurried questions being thrown at me. I watched for a moment and then, when the commotion had finally calmed, a nurse came up to me and said, "Are you related to him? Do you know what happened?" I looked away from my steady gaze on the doors, looking straight at the small nurse in front of me. Her hair was up and covered, and her wide blue eyes seemed rushed, just like everything else. I looked back at the doors, feeling like a character from a movie, as I shook my head and said, "No. I don't know the man." I looked back at her, "I just saw him hurt and brought him here." She nodded slowly, and I turned at pushed the doors to the hospital open, stepping out. The winter breeze bit at my skin, but as a rushing impulse of mixed emotions ran through my veins-I had never felt so hot in my life.

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 10

Venice

I walk to the soda table, setting my empty cup down and reaching for an almost-empty bag of barbecue chips. I reach my hand into the bag and pull out the broken pieces of chips that are left, putting them quickly into my mouth and then licking my fingers. I turn and see Russel pull out his phone. I smile, watching him. At first Russel just seemed annoying, but the guy's actually pretty entertaining. I turn away, walking to the kitchen to wash my now-sticky fingers, leaving my cup on the table along with many others-all waiting to find out if they will be picked up. Also wondering if when they are picked up, they will be carried away by their previous owner or someone who took the wrong cup, spreading bacteria throughout the party-goers.

"Hey," Thomas says, walking up from behind me. I turn, startled, and smile. "Hi. Again." He looks nervous, "Um, I have to go...take care of something. Do you think you could, uh, make sure...nothing gets, you know, broken, or anything, while I'm gone?" Thomas seems really worried. I nod, "Yea. Of course. No problem." He smiles, "Thanks, Venice. See you soon." He turns and walks quickly toward the front door, slamming it behind him. I turn and look at all the people, slightly proud that Thomas left the place in my care. Of course, it's not like there's anyone else he could really entrust the place to...except Laylee, of course, but she's one of those people that come and go as they like. "Hey, Venice," a slick, deep, liquid-y voice says from behind me. I turn to see Marley behind me. She's wearing a U-neck deep blue short sleeve top and tight True Religion jeans with slingback black heels. A large dark green stone on a thick black leather string rests on her chest, the hook of the necklace showing by her collarbone. Her dark hair swiftly surrounds her shoulders, and she has thick mascara and dark eyeliner around her dark green eyes. She smiles slickly, and I notice the bags under her eyes, sloppily disguised by foundation. Marley has late nights: I've lived next to her since I was four, and we both have large yards, (not unlike everyone else in the area,) but our houses are close enough to hear the yelling that goes on in hers every night. When Marley and I were in seventh grade, I was up in my room, looking at the stars, when I saw her run out of her house, slamming the door. She ran over to a big oak in front of her house. Something told me to go out to her, so I walked down the stairs and out of my house, closing the front door quietly and tip-toeing down the creaky stairs in my front porch. I hopped the short fence between our front yards and walked up behind her. I heard her sobs and short breaths, and for some reason, I just dropped down next to her and put my arms around her. She turned her head slightly, saw that it was me, and cried in my arms for a good hour. I took her to my house that night and she slept in my room. She didn't say anything about what had happened to her, and in the morning she thanked me and went home. We didn't suddenly become friends, hanging out at school and sharing shoes. She didn't come over to me and thank me in the hallway. Instead, we just kind of eased up on each other. Before that incident, we had just kind of ignored each other's existence, each slightly resenting each other- me resenting her wealth, friends, and looks, and her resenting, I guessed, my family and fearlessness, not worrying what anybody thought about me and not feeling alone when I sat by myself at lunch everyday. So we just kind of smiled at each other every once in a while, talked occasionally during class-just acted more comfortable with each other. "Hey, Mar," I say, smiling sadly at her. I can't seem to look at her without hearing the yelling, seeing the tears that had dripped down her face so long ago. "So," she says, smiling, "how are you?" She looks toward the front door, "You dating the slacker?" she smiles. It's funny to me how even Marley, Erica, and their friends resent Thomas- despite the fact that they themselves are slackers, if not quite so much as Thomas. "No," I say, laughing slightly, "definitely not." She raises and eyebrow, "Unfortunately?" she asks, and I laugh again, nodding, "Yea. Unfortunately." Marley can read me like a book with a magnifying glass over the words.

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 9

Russel

"-the loo?" Ginny points to the staircase. "First door on the right," she says, "the side of the hallway closest to the yard."

"Thanks," I reply. She nods in response, turning back to her friends. I hurry up the stairs and practically run into a guy in jeans and a blue-plaid shirt. "Sorry," I say. He shakes his head. I look to see where he was going to go, and I say, "You using the loo, too?" He blinks at me. "The loo?" I laugh, "The bathroom."

"Oh. Yea. You can go first, I guess." I shake my head, "No, it's ok, I just needed an excuse out of the grips of Samantha Pickens and her clingers." He laughs, "Yea, they're a vicious bunch." He opens the door of the loo and goes in, closing it behind him. I walk down the hallway farther, exploring. I find an open door at the end of the hallway and walk into it, heading over to the large window facing the front of the house. The mountains put a shadow over the whole valley and I can just barely see the lake, glistening in the moonlight. I whistle at the view and walk out of the room again, closing the door behind me and going back down the stairs. I go into the backyard just in time to see Thomas moving away from Venice, his cell phone pressed to his ear, a worried expression on his face. Perfect time for me to slip in. "So," I say walking up next to her, "how was conversation with the host?" She rolls her eyes, "Riveting."

"Really?"

"Yes. Quite charming, unlike my conversation with you." I laugh, "Oh, really? So what is conversation with me like?"

"Sarcastic. Monotonous. Short-lived." I laugh outright, "You possess a wide vocabulary." My eyes sparkle in delight. She smiles slightly, "You possess the talent to charm." I smile, "Oh really." She nods, "Mhm. But, unfortunately, it's not working on me." I put my hand to my chest, "I'm deeply wounded."

"As you well should be," she replies. She flips her hair dramatically and spins on her heel, walking away from me. I laugh and shake my head.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out and check the caller ID. It's Jameson. "Hey, Jamie, what's up?" Jameson groans at the pet name and says, "Mum's all fussed up, wondering where you're off to."

"I'm at a party."

"Well, that's comforting." I roll my eyes, "It's just a backyard party. Soda, awkward conversation, people leaving fifteen minutes after arriving-you know the drill."

"Whatever, little brother. Mum just wants you home by twelve."

"Thirty."

"Fifteen."

"Forty-five."

"Thirty."

"One AM."

"Twelve forty-five."

"Done," I say, smiling as I once again get my way.

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 8

James

I sit up, suddenly, as I see Thomas walk over to Venice, a smile playing with his lips. I was about to go over and talk to her, but then he walked up. I sit down casually, and sipped at my pepsi, like nothing is wrong at all. I nod to Thomas as he walks past me to Venice. I can here them talking, but I'm too far to hear them really well. "Hi," Thomas says. Venice mumbles a reply. Nervous, I can tell. She's always nervous around Thomas. Why, I'll never know. But she is. "Are you..." Thomas's voice trails off, and I thought perhaps he was saying the next thing too quietly, but then he says, "having...a good time?" I turned slightly and see her nod, smiling. I listen to their muffled voices for another minute before finally groaning, getting up, and walking away.

"Hey, James," a voice behind me says. I turn from my position: leaning against an oak tree, watching Venice and Thomas talking in the distance. She keeps fiddling with her hair. Leighton stands behind me, smiling. I blink, "Um, hi, Leighton." This is strange. Leighton never talks to me. She walks closer and leans against the tree next to me, sipping daintily at her soda. Pathetic. Venice would've had the whole cup down her throat by now. Knowing her lack-of-affection for me, she probably would have also burped before walking away to chuck her cup in the trash, most likely missing the can and blushing as she put the cup into the can and walked away. "So," Leighton starts, drawing out the word. I say nothing, taking another drink of my pepsi. She does the same. This is so awkward. "So what's up, Leighton?" I ask, trying to ease the tension. She seems calm, standing easily, like we do this all the time. "Oh, not much," wow. The ultimate conversation stopper. "How about you?" I feel like yelling at her, "Geez, girl, don't you see that you are backing us into the ultimate corner of Awkward Conversation?!" Instead I reply, "Ya, same. Listen, I gotta use-"

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 7

Thomas

I pace the bathroom of Laylee's house. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out. "LAYLEE?" I yell into the receiver. "Geez, Thomas, could you be a little louder? I didn't quite catch that."

"WHERE ARE YOU?" I can almost hear Laylee roll her eyes as she replies, "Calm down, Thomas. It's no big deal. Mom's not coming home until tomorrow morning." Here's the thing: everyone thinks that Laylee and I live together. Laylee and I do not live together. After my mom died, my dad got remarried to a woman named Cindy. Cindy and my dad adopted Laylee, my little sister, from a country in Africa, small and hard to pronounce. When Cindy divorced my dad, Laylee went with her. Frankly, I almost went with her too, but my dad was the only real family I had left, so I decided to stay. So now here I am: throwing a party at my ex-step mom's house without her knowing. Honestly, I should have just asked her. She would have been fine with it. But no. I didn't. And now I am totally freaking out. Who can explain it? I don't know. But I can't calm down. "Thomas," Laylee groans, "go downstairs. Eat something. Have fun. Calm down." I nod, "Yea, ok. Bye, Laylee." I close the phone and open the bathroom door. I've never been good with secret keeping or lying, and here I am throwing a party without the house owner's permission and-not purposely, I can assure you, my house wouldn't have been big enough for a party-making everyone think that this gigantic house is mine, only assuring the rumor of my wealth and good fortune. I feel like everyone is staring at me as I walk into the backyard, although I know absolutely no one is watching, seeing as absolutely no one cares about me. I spot Venice standing alone by the chicken coop and I walk down to talk to her. As I do, I bump into Russel. "Oh, sorry," I say. He smiles, "No worries." He looks down to see where I'm walking and sees Venice. He smiles at me, "So I've got some competition, huh?" I blink, confused, "Excuse me?" He laughs, and he's so comfortable about it, as if we've been friends for years and laughing with me is perfectly normal. It weirds me out. "For the heart of Venice Taily," he smiles, and I grow even more confused. "What are you talking about?" I ask. "Venice," he says, "Obviously, she likes you." He waves a finger at me, "But I'll win her over yet." He laughs again, "Go, flirt all you want. But someday, I'm going to steal that girl right out from under you." He smiles mischievously, "And you won't even know what hit you." I look down at Venice as he walks away from me, toward the cooler. Venice? Venice likes me? I smile slightly at the thought and continue toward her.

© 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 6

Russel

I walk into Thomas's house that night and smile at the large crowd of people already walking around the backyard, holding little plastic cups. One advantage of having that weird girl follow me around? The rest of the world comes with her. I look around the party and locate Venice standing by the pool, shaking around her cup. Thomas's little sister comes up to me, smiling, and says, somewhat nervously, "Hi. Are you looking for Thomas? He's not here yet." I raise my eyebrows, surprised by this statement. "Um, no, actually, thanks." I smile, "I think I already found who I was looking for." She blushes, and I try not to roll my eyes as I say, "See you later," and walk over to Venice.

"Hi, Venice." She looks up quickly, and then looks back down at her drink when she sees it's me. "Hey," she says. I watch her, seeming to ponder whether she should drink the liquid in her cup or not. Eventually, she sighs and holds the cup by the edge as she holds her arm down, no longer appearing to be about to take a sip of it. "Are you gonna drink that?" I ask, amused. She looks up at me, back at the drink, and then sighs, "I don't drink." I take the cup from her hand and she jumps slightly, startled. I hold the cup up to my nose and sniff it. I laugh and take a sip of it as I say, "This is Coke." She blinks, "Oh." I laugh again and she reaches for the cup. Surprised, I hand it to her, and she swallows it in one gulp. I blink at her as she once again holds the cup near her thigh. "I drank out of that," I point out. She looks at me, "Yea," she says, giving me a 'obviously, doofus' expression, "I know." She turns around, throwing the cup toward a trash can by the gate that leads into the yard. She misses it by a mile and sighs, walking over to it and putting it into the trash can. She walks back over to me and I just smile at her. I don't know why this whole situation impresses me so much. I honestly have no idea. "So," I say, "you're not a basketball player." She snorts, "And you're not a Victoria's Secret model." She glares at me, "Glad we've made such incredible discoveries about each other." She motions to herself and then to me and says, "I feel like I know you on a deeper level now." I smile widely without showing my teeth,"You're feisty."

"You're blunt." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a hair band, twisting her hair into a ponytail. She turns to me, "See ya, Russel," and walks off in the opposite direction.

How is she this amazing?

© 2010