Beneath the Surface
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[Perpetual Metamorph]
[Hayseed]
[Angelic]
Below are the 10 most recent journal entries recorded in the "Paige Guthrie" journal:[<< Previous 10 entries]
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06:22 pm
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Blood is Thicker than Water
Dear Diary,
It's been almost a month since Josh took off. No one's heard anything from him and, even I'm starting to get a little bit worried. Josh has been known to brood at times, sure - but I was certain things were starting to look up for him. Since spending time with Amara, his mood was starting to perk right up and I'm almost positive there were times I heard shared giggles between the two of them in the lounge room, while I was staring up at the ceiling in bed.
I miss him. I miss his teasing nudges and even those darned flaps of wings against the side of my head. I miss Jeb too, since he seems to be so wrapped up in his girlfriend, that he doesn't even come home anymore. I can't say that I miss Sam, seems the only time I get to see him is when I'm in trouble, or thinking about getting in trouble. It's like he's got this sixth sense to poke his nose in then, just to give me a good thumping. I guess since I haven't seen much of Tabi either, that she's keeping him tied-up. Amara says I don't want to know what goes on in that Master Bedroom, but I'm hazarding a guess that it should be called the Mistress Bedroom...
I flipped out on Sam the other day, after my date with Lucky. Part of me knows I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have husked out and taken off through the air vents to prove a point. Sam hasn't spoken to me since, I feel like I've disappointed him, but heck - he disappointed me too. Since when does he care for his job? Since when has he decided to put doing the right thing ahead of a career? I know he wants to watch out for us, make sure there's a roof over our heads and all but... I don't know. If I wanted to live in prison, I could go out and get arrested, tried by a jury of my peers and tossed in for five to ten. Last time I looked, I lived in a free country - one where people didn't have to sign their lives and rights to privacy away, just for the privledge of coming to knock on my front door.
Lucky was pretty cool about the whole thing. ... drawing a path of connecting circles ... I should confess to someone, and you seem the best bet Diary. I think I'm starting to like him, an awful lot. I know, for the longest time I couldn't get Brody out of my head, I still feel a little leap in my chest when I see his face or hear his voice... but its starting to grow less intense. I'm starting to get those same feelings when I see Luke. I don't want to say that I'm falling in love with him. I can't say that. I haven't been entirely honest with him - but I can say that he drives me insanely wild, encourages me to do things and act in ways that I never would have dreamed. He's fun, he makes me laugh like I haven't laughed in months and he sings to me, the most beautiful songs... doodling a happy face in a heart.
Whatever it is that we've got, at least for the moment, is just what I need.
I hope the boys like him, not that it matters if they do or don't, but...
their approval means something to me.
Hugs and Kisses.
P.
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08:54 am
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Adventures of the Jolly Green Giant
Dear Diary,
I woke up yesterday evening and Lucky was still there, sleeping on the couch. I got the chance to look at him, really look at him. Aside from what's first noticed, that dark silky hair and those bright envy~green eyes, I got a chance to see the tiny lines that are beginning to etch around the corners of his mouth and eyes, the sort that start to burrow in with time and a lot of laughter.
It's felt really good to laugh the last few days. The heavy~duty, bust your sides and don't really care who hears you laughing. Haven't felt able to do that since that one time, with Brody, at the Bayberry. I hope he's doing alright. He seems happier with his new girlfriend than he ever did with me.
Pulling out an old picture tucked into the diary, smoothing thumb around the white edge that framed it. Resting it in the fold of the diary page before.
I still miss him - but it is getting easier.
Amara came home while I was with Lucky on the couch, she threatened him with a zucchini (of all things!) just because she thought he was nekkid. Quite frankly, I never thought that Amara would flip out at the thought of a handsome nekkid guy in the apartment, but this one was only half nekkid and, well, I did notice that she got in a whole lot of ogling time once the introductions were made. If she wasn't nuts about Josh, I swear I might have just maybe felt a twinge of jealousy like I did when he mentioned wanting to meet my sisters.
Anyway... Amara and her long, skinny green friend hightailed it out of the apartment I'm guessing, since she wasn't around this morning. Guess she didn't have any problem with me dragging Lucky into my bed.
I kissed him last night... I know I said I kissed him before, but this time he was awake and... he kissed me back. Wow...! All I can say is that man can kiss. I figure he's had a lot of experience, being a musician with women in every port of call. He's got the sort of arms that are great for snuggling into too, strong, hard, solid.
The void left by Brody's still there, maybe it always will be... I don't know if Lucky and I have a future, it's way too soon to tell. He still thinks I'm married, which doesn't bode well for laying down any long term roots. For now though, spending time with him just seems right. It lightens my heart and my mood.
I know that I've got to hold back who I am with him, giving everything to one person makes me far too vunerable. I'm just going to enjoy what time we have now and hope for the best.
P.S.
I couldn't find that zucchini when I was putting away the groceries. Wonder if Amara did take it to bed since she can't find her blue jelly vibe?
Current Music: Since U Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson
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01:20 pm
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About last night...
Dear Diary,
Don't know what the heck happened in the park last night. From the brief accounts that I heard in Bob's, it was some bad version of Stephen King's IT on acid tearin'through the place in an ice cream truck. The whole thing left a few people shaken.
I met Katie Woods again, she was with a guy named Jared who looked pretty grim. He was pale, malnourished, dehydrated and didn't look as if he's had a good night's sleep in about a month. When he passed out, ... well, all I know is that I have to find money for med school. It was the best feeling in the world to be able to be there and help. Made me feel like I haven't felt in a long time, like I actually belonged somewhere, with some purpose.
Lucky showed up, turns out the clown tried to run him over. ... Looks like I might have a bit of competition in that stalker job, except the clown seems to be taking his role a bit more seriously. Anyway, Lucius gave me a lift home so it only seemed fair to offer to patch him up.
I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe it was the lateness of the hour? Maybe it was the rush of what had happened and getting to help? Maybe it was just the fact that to touch him sent all sorts of tingles through my fingertips? I kissed him... I couldn't help myself...
on the bright side, he was asleep. He doesn't have to know. I don't think I'd have the courage to do it again - but, his lips are so soft and he's not as scruffy as Brody or... well, even Hank when he kissed me before taking off out of town.
Understand men? Never going to happen...
but the surprises, every now and again, are pretty nice.
Current Music: Beautiful Soul - Jesse McCartney
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10:41 pm
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Lucky in Love?
Dear Diary,
Sorry I haven't written in a while - I feel like I've deserted my bestest friend, the one that's always there to listen...
Been talking to Sam and Amara the last couple of days. Josh still hasn't come home. I don't know what Big Red's up to, but I'm starting to worry that he's becoming too much like me in taking off without keeping people informed. The two of them are worried sick, chances are Tabi is too... I'm a bit more relaxed about it, he's a big boy, just wish he'd send a postcard or something to let us know he's okay.
Amara's worried that maybe making out with him on the couch freaked him out. I don't think that's it. Those two are peach~perfect for one another, she's the best thing that could have happened after Julia. I know that once you've fallen in love, that when you lose it, that it just feels like you'll never find it again. I just hope my little brother knows how lucky he is.
Speaking of lucky, I've been hanging out with one.
I met him last week at Reilly's, came in for a couple of beers and was wearing a NY Yankees cap. Me, being the fan I am, commented on it and mentioned that he'd lose his hair... so, I scored it for myself, all in the name of follicle salvation!
When he took off that cap, those eyes. Wow!
He left me his phone number but... I just didn't know. Part of me figures if I showed any interest, I might as well just be laying out the red carpet with a neon sign shouting "If you want to stamp all over a heart, step this way!" So... I let it go.
Funny that we happened to run into one another the next night at Joker's Wild. I don't really remember much of what happened, except for some high roller sliding a chip into my cleavage like I was some sort'a slot machine... what caught me by surprise was to look up and see Lucky in the mirror. He thought I was stalking him... I don't know how it all happened, but he thinks I'm married. You know what Diary? I don't mind that so much...
I finally caved and called him a few days later, after running into him in the park with his puppy Bronx. Bronx is a boxer, just like Scamp, beautiful'n'cute as a button. We had a pretty good conversation on the phone and he invited me over to his place to just hang out. What a gorgeous apartment, it looks just like an Ikea catalog.
I was having a great time. He's so funny and handsome, witty and smart as a whip. It was pretty good just having someone to be with and talk to. I know he thinks I'm married, but...
we were sitting by the window and he gave me the CD he promised from Empire Records. I asked him to play a song for me. When he sang, it was ... magical. I don't know if you've ever experienced anything quite like it Diary, where a whole entire future of fifty years unravels itself out in five minutes.
I've got to be crazy... I sooooo know better. I'm attracted to him, very attracted. He makes me laugh and feel good about myself, for the first time in months. He says he likes me, I just wonder how much of that like is because I'm 'off the market' so-to-speak, unavailable 'forbidden fruit' because he thinks I'm married.
I don't know. I don't know if he'd be interested in me as anything more than a friend even if I wasn't. Maybe he'd just see me as some sort of one-night stand, since he mentioned having shitty relationships before with Groupies.
I don't know if I'm ready to risk getting my heart broken again. I do know, though, that I don't have to decide until I'm good and ready. Just going to play it by ear and see where this goes. If nothing else, it's going to be great to have someone to go see a few Yankee games with.
Current Music: Breathe - Prodigy
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08:00 am
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Ramblings
Dear Diary,
I'm sitting up in bed, surrounded by all pillows and a fluffy duvet... comfortable as a cloud and lonely as an angel upon one.
Yesterday I went out wandering. Visited the usual haunts, you know the ones... Bob's Diner, the Library, Reilly's, the Park. Just sorta got the feeling I was invisible, or that I haven't taken a shower in a while. Don't think I smell that bad? Still... think I might stop by the pharmacy and see if they have that new Impulse body spray for women.
What's that diary? How am I doing in my search for scholarship money?... Geeze, wish you hadn't asked that. I did send out five applications for grants, haven't heard anything back yet but there's still another couple of months before they decide. The closing dates for applications isn't until June 16. Hopefully it'll be good news and this time I won't slack off, after all, there's no one to distract me.
Brody's got a new girlfriend. From the sounds of it, she's really pretty and spunky and smart. He mentioned it when I ran into him in the park with Scamp about a week ago. I thought I was over him, that it wouldn't bother me to hear something like that... but,
tear drop smudging the print
it damn well near broke my heart all over again. I know I've got to move on. I know that I can't keep thinking 'what if I'd done this' or 'what if I'd done that'. He doesn't want to be with me anymore and that's just something that I have to accept. It doesn't hurt as much as it initially did, which is something I suppose... it's just that there feels like there's this big hole inside me. Like a part of me's missing.
I don't know. Maybe it's a good thing to have that void? Maybe the coldness that accompanies it is a way to prevent ever feeling like that about someone ever again? Hey... the boys would have to be happy to hear that, right? Not having to worry about me being taken advantage of.
Let bygones be bygones. That's what momma always says - right? Don't cry over spilt milk.
I've bumped into a couple of guys over the last few weeks. Maybe a night out might do me some good? Get me out of this funk. Doesn't have to be anything fancy - heck, doesn't even have to be a date! Just a get out of the house to a movie with someone in the seat beside me rather than alone...
oh... and still have to talk to Tabi and Amara about that slumber party I want to throw. Some girl power bonding might be just the thing I need. Find my inner strength, that higher power that exists without skin, stone and bone. I need to refind me.
Current Music: Numa Numa
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06:13 pm
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Why Can't I?
Get a load of me
Get a load of you
Walking down the street and I hardly know you
Its just like we were meant to be
Holding hands with you
When we're out at night
Got a girlfriend, you say it isn't right
And I've got someone waiting too
What it is, its just the beginning
We're already wet and we're gonna go swimming
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you?
It's inevitible
It's the fact
That we're gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?
Whenever I think about you?
Isn't this the best part of breaking up?
Finding someone else you can't get enough of?
Someone who wants to be with you too
Its an itch we know we are gonna scratch
Gonna take awhile for this egg to hatch
But wouldn't it be beautiful?
Here we go
We're at the beginning
We haven't fucked yet but my head's spinning
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you?
It's inevitible
It's the fact
That we're gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?
Whenever I think about you?
High enough for you to make me wonder
Where its going
High enough for you to pull me under
Something's growing
Out of this that we can't control
Baby I'm dying
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you?
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you?
It's inevitable
It's a fact that were gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't i breathe whenever i think about you?
Whenever i think about you
Whenever i think about you
Whenever i think about you
Whenever i think about you
Current Music: Liz Phair
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10:08 pm
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Restless Night - Yujon3D
It was one of those nights again. But for the 18-year old lying restlessly in his bed, every night was"one of those nights". He could never sleep (and rarely did because of recurring nightmares that would horrify him more than others would think his appearance made possible), and his mind was awash with a storm of thoughts and images that he kept to himself.
His mind's eye was now fixed firmly on the image of a face, beautiful in its own plain manner, which seemed to stare out of the center of the storm. He spoke her name to himself, by the only means which had been available to him since the power took his voice away.
~Paige~
His psychic voice was nothing like the physical voice he once had. The pitch was there, but there were overtones in that voice which screamed his pain and self-loathing as though he somehow projected those emotions he now had, emotions which evolved from realizing the disfigured state of his body which resulted from the power, into the world at large. One of his fellow students at the Academy once referred to it as "The psionic howl from beyond the grave." More than once, it would trigger fearful reactions in those unfamiliar with the man he truly was. No doubt it could do so again.
~Bloody 'ell. I probably woke the entire dorm with 'at one.~ he "sighed".
It was at moments like these that he turned to the one thing he believed had kept him sane through all the months of horror and suffering that his life had become. Rising from his bed, he turned to gaze at the acoustic guitar leaning against the opposite wall. It was his final tie to the life he had left behind.
~Oy, I might bloody well have to get on with it.~ he thought to himself as he walked towards the waiting instrument,~It's not as if they're going to give me a standing ovation,anyway.~
Shaking off the thoughts of his classmates and headmasters rushing from the doors of the dormitories to castigate him for the impromptu performance, he lifted his guitar from its perch and headed towards the door. Within five minutes he was there, barely noticing the chilly November air (as if his transformed body would notice cold). Leaning against one of the old maple trees across from the dormitory where she now slept, he peered up at the darkened window.
No movement. No sound except for the rustling of the now-bare branches in the trees as a slight breeze swept through them. No light except for the faint glow of streetlamps from the driveway and the light inside the main building to his right.
Wasting no more time, he pulled the guitar strap over his head, letting the instrument hang from his shoulders.Even in the darkness, he knew just where to place his hands. The guitar was as much a part of him now as it was apart of a more carefree mood that was no longer with him. He had but to slide his hands along the neck to get his bearings.
But was the happiness truly gone? ~Perhaps.~ he"said" to himself, before quietly going into his work.
He didn't play loudly at first, letting the simple chords that came to his mind find their way into the hand that worked the frets. The chords were like a rhythmic beat in his heart (if it were still there), and the lyrics that ran through his mind were as familiar to him as they were to any young man in his native Britain. He could no longer sing them with a human voice, but the ghost of his old voice was in his head, singing along with a hint of the aggressive demeanor that he once put across to audiences in seedy London dives before the "accident". Somewhere in that scarred shell of a youth,the Old Jono was still plugging away at his rented Stratocaster,nearly shouting out his youthful rebellion at the Establishment which had given him and his peers so much grief.
But now the angry youth was silent except for the rhythmic chords which grew louder and louder with each pluck of the strings, as though he were trying to make the accoustic instrument do what the Strat and his old voice used to do so long ago. The notes appeared to jump more than weave their way towards the upper-story window where his object of desire was.
He had no idea of knowing how long he was there playing his heart out. He was so far into the reverie brought out by his improvised solo jam that he didn't sense the uneasy stirring that started in two of the upstairs dorms facing his"stage". His eyes were closed, so that he didn't see the lights go on in the two rooms above. He was playing just loudly enough on his acoustic guitar (so that one would think that he was trying to break it!) to block out the muffled voices that came from behind closed windows...
Until one of the windows, not the window that belonged to his object of desire, swung open with a sigh and a thump. A dark-haired girl leaned out and muttered a few words in French.
"Jonathan Evan Starsmore!" said the dark-haired girl in slightly accented English, "It is three-thirty in the morning. People are sleeping!" To emphasize her point, she was pointing frantically to a rather elaborate alarm clock she held in her left hand.
Jono paused just before the correct window opened this time, letting two girls, his blonde-haired Goddess and her hysterical Asian-American roommate, pop out and nearly fall out trying to outshout each other.
"Jono!" the Blonde Goddess began to shout.
She was cut off by the hyper Asian. "YO,STARSMORE! CUT IT OUT! GIRLS'RE SLEEPIN' HERE,ENGLISH!" As if to punctuate her screeching, a few sparks seemed to leap from her hands and cracked in the chilly air like miniature fireworks.
Jono's Blonde Goddess rolled her eyes, "Thank you, Jubilee, now go back to sleep and shut up."
"What, Hayseed?"
"Go. To. Sleep!"
Jubilee disappeared into the room. Mutter,mutter, mutter.
Jono felt his face blush (??) as he stared up at his Blonde Goddess. Her scowl didn't change. ~Paige?~ he projected meekly, ~Uhm, sorry.~
Paige looked startled at the black-clad youth who stared up at her in embarrassment and confusion, "What is it?"
Jono hesitated, keeping his gaze fixed on her so that he didn't notice the puzzled stare he was also getting from the dark-haired girl in the nearby window. Paige's expression grew more confused.
"Well, c'mon. Speak up, I can't keep this window open all morning."
Jubilee's voice whined out from behind Paige, "Aw,shut th'window, Hayseed! He's not gonna stop gawkin'atchya!"
Paige spun around briefly, "Shut up, JUBILATION LEE,or I'll toss ya out there myself!"
Jubilee made no physical response (except for: mutter,mutter, mutter). Paige calmed down in spite of the expletive that must have been thrown her way.
Paige turned back to face Jono, the puzzled expression of her face now replaced by a pensive frown. "Well?" she said.
Jono finally found his "voice". ~Well, I was thinkin' about you tonight and I guess I couldn't sleep.This was the only thing I could think of doing, anyway. Sorry if I woke you up or something, luv.~
Confusion flashed across Paige's face again, "Is that it?"
~Well, no. I wanted to make up for the fiasco from last Thanksgiving at yer mum's place.~ he continued, ~I suppose you 'ave time tomorrow to...talk it over, do you?~
Paige regarded the young man before her for a moment,ignoring another round of whining from Jubilee behind her.From where he stood, Jono sensed a softening of the emotion that she had projected at him a few minutes earlier.
"Okay, then." she finally replied, "How about tomorrow morning at eleven?"
Jono nodded. Paige said nothing more, but there was something comforting in the way she looked at him as she closed the window to her room. He turned to go, finally noticing the angry scowl that the dark-haired girl was directing his way.
~'Ello, Monet. Are you 'aving a 'appy Thanksgiving, yet?~ he projected with a chuckle in his "voice".
Monet hissed a short curse in French (whatever it was mustn't have been printable) and slammed her window closed with enough force to crack the glass. Jono ignored it and went merrily on his way (as merrily as such a troubled youth could go).
Tonight had been another sleepless night. And yet, in spite of it and the brief misunderstanding that took place below Paige's window, Jonathan Evan Starsmore felt as though he had accomplished something important to him.Perhaps on this day, he had begun to lay to rest one of the demons which had haunted his soul.
Perhaps he was going to have a new start.
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10:06 pm
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The Kiss - Paige McKee
It was odd, he thought. The only sound in the room was her breathing. He could breath if he really really tried, he had almost forgotten how. How must she feel to be pressed against him, he wasn't nessarrly warm like a normal man, He has no heart, no blood flow his body is kept "alive" through the psionic energy that slowly eats away at him, never more so than at this moment. He heasitated then put one of his hands on the back of her head. He's been around, he's handled many drunk women before, but never after loosing the lower part of his face and chest. What could possibly be going through her head. He actually found himself inhaling suddenly as she reached under his leather jacket to loop her arm around and run it up his back. He's painfully aware that all she can probly feel is the wraps he wears not only to hide his gaping hole but also to help insure no further deteriation of his body. He tried to compose himself, think of things other than this. Think of his teacher in first grade. The pain in the back of his skull started slowly, like a creeping headache.The pain growing in what used to be his heart starts even more as he feels the a hand coming up to remove the wraps around his face. He eases backwards out of her grip. She responded only with looking up at him with glassed over cyan eyes. She looks like she wants to say something but he didn't catch onto it.
The psionic energy is threated to rip him in half. He closed his eyes against the pain, He telepathically tried to warn Paige to get out of the room, Then again it is her room, but then again he's about to blow up her room. For the split second it took Jonothon Evan Starsmore to complicate this little thought, the situation has just slipped out of his control.
"Get. Out." He managed to send out. More of a thought than an order.
Paige looked at him, her eyes still with a glassed over look as a result of being drunk. It was clear she was sobering up fast, but not fast enough. She stepped back, her mind still refusing to give up what little fog it had left. "NOW!!" He psionically screamed and pushed her away to the ground to get her out of the way. He ran to the window, he doesn't make it in time. He's blinded by a yellow flash of light as the wall in front of his is desimated by his own psionic blast. He falls backwards as the blast eats its way thu the thick brick wall. If he had vocal cords anymore he'd be screaming at the top of his lungs with fear at his lack of control and the shear force the blast of Psionic energy had. As he fell back his power starts to destroy the ceiling above him, then as suddenly as his psionic power erupted it's gone, his body completely drained in one tremendous blast. His vision clears but still is spotted with purple dancing spots as a result of the bright glare. He realized with a sigh that aware that the ceiling was giving way and he couldn't move. The blast took everything out of him. He attempted to move to his side, but his body didn't comply. He's only partly aware that something intercepted a big chunk of derbis as it fells dangerously close to his body. He didn't know what it was, but as blackness sinks in he can feel himself and weight press against him as he falls down the three stories to the ground of the girl's dorm.
Paige screamed as loud as she could as she tried to hold onto Jonothon as the entire framework of the girl's dorm crumbled around her. A metal tube fell and clanks hard against her head. Fighting off the numbing paing she looked down at the now sleeping Jonothon and tightens her grip, suddenly all the weight piled on her and the small remaining segment of floor she's drapped across caused it to gives way. She held on to Jonothon with her right hand and attempted to grab onto a small pole with her left hand. She grabs on and exhales as the pole of what no doubt was tubing from the second floor bathroom holds. Paige tried her hardest not to panic. She threw a look down at all the rubble. If she wasn't drunk, this would have never happened. She would have never tried to come onto Jonothon, and the whole girl's dorm wouldn't be so much as framework and plumbing. Strange how stepping out of one's skin litteraly suddenly put everything into perspective. Paige smiled to herself. How profound. No longer drunk at all but a metal form hanging off a slowly breaking pipe of an old dorm. Oddly she wants to drink again despite the problem just caused by it. How profound. She thought to herself again.
The sound of Banshee's wail is drowned out by a loud snap. Paige looked up from Jonothon to the now broken pipe and the entire falling famework of the girl's dorm.
"Eep." She whispered to her self as both her and Jonothon fall the rest of the two stories, She tried her hardest to turn Jonothon around so he landed on her and not on the sharp bricks below. In metal form she can take a few scrapes and bruises alot better than flesh and blood. (Note: Jonothon doesn't bleed)
She doesn't make it, and landed with a hard thud next to Jonothon, left hand still clenched in a fist on his leather jacket.
The last thought she had before she passed out as well was about how it would have worked if this was on television.
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09:57 pm
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Dear Paige - by Maggie the Cat
Dear Paige,
I am writing to tell you how I feel since it is Valentine's Day and all. I know you probly-- "Probably. The word you're looking for, Angelo, is 'probably'."
Angelo snatched his letter to his chest with a yelp of surprise, glaring up at Monet. She simply regarded him calmly, sipping at her iced tea. "Private, M! You unnerstand the meaning of private?" he snapped, feeling hot color rise in his cheeks. "I don' come look at your coloring books, do I?!?"
Monet blinked, then tossed her perfect black hair, sticking her perfect nose up. "D'accord. If you think that an illiterate love letter will convince Paige that you are the man for her, then by all means, write 'probly'."
"Yeah, I will!!" Angelo yelled at her retreating back.
As soon as she rounded the corner, he hastily erased the offending word. I know you probably already kinda know how I feel about you, and I figure that since you broke up with Jono like a month ago it should be fine for me to say this. You are all I think about. You're on my mind when I wake up and the sun shines through my window. You go to bed with me--
"What's this?"
Once again Angelo's thought process was rudely interrupted, this time in the form of a small brightly-clad dynamo by the name of Jubilee. She snatched the paper away from him and danced about the room, evading Angelo with no real effort. "Izzit a loooove letter, Ange? Betcha I know who it's for! Betcha I do!"
"Betcha I break your neck when I catch you, Jubilee!" he growled, thwipping his fingers out to catch the squealing girl and drag her struggling backwards across the sofa.
"'...through my window...you go to bed with...!!' Holy cripes!" Jubilee flopped onto her stomach, staring up at Angelo with huge, rounded eyes, never minding that he pulled the paper irately from her fingers. "I was being romantic," he said through gritted teeth. "Not literal."
Jubilee snickered. "Ooooh, Ange, I didn't know you were a poet!" she giggled. "I gotta tell Ev about this!"
Angelo grinned slowly at her. "Sure, mijita. An' while you're at it, tell'im all about how it's your teddy bear wearin' the baseball shirt Ev...ahem...'lost'."
Her slanted eyes narrowed and she tightened her lips. "Fine. Not a word ta anyone."
Gathering his notepad and pencil, Angelo smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Five minutes later, curled up in Artie's and Leech's treehouse, Angelo tried to regain his train of thought. You go to bed with me and dance through my dreams. When I'm miserable, the thought of you takes some of the weight off my heart. Just those tiny, dumb things you do--even the things that drive me loco--every one of them makes me love you that much more. I know I'm not--
"Ange! You up there?"
Closing his eyes, Angelo thumped the back of his head against the wall a few times before answering.
"Yeah, Ev. Que pasa?"
"I left my cap with Artie yesterday. The blue one? Is it there?"
"Yeah. Jus' a sec."
Leaning over, Angelo snagged Everett's baseball cap from the branch it had been impaled on and tossed it down, smiling slightly and uncharitably when Everett's moans of despair came floating up.
"Look at it! Oh, jeez! They don't have anything else of mine up there, do they?"
Angelo sighed. "I dunno. I don't think so."
Silence from down below, and then creaking wood.
"I'd better check for myself," Everett muttered, looking up to see Angelo swinging down from the treehouse and disappearing off towards the campus.
It was cold, uncomfortable, and not very condusive to romantic thoughts, but the bathroom stall Angelo wedged himself into was definitely private.
Propping his feet up against the door, he braced the notepad against his legs and tapped the pencil's eraser on his nose, pondering. I know I'm not all serious and deep like Jono, and hell, he's probably better-looking than me even with the face and all. But if you'd find it in your heart to give me a try, Country Mouse, maybe we could--
The door to the bathrooms swung open and Angelo froze as footsteps echoed.
Under the door of his stall, he could see black combat boots come in, stop, and turn...a grimace creased Angelo's face as the boots came to rest pointing unerringly towards his hiding place.
::Er...Ange?:: Jono sounded curious and slightly amused. ::Do I even want t'know what ye're doing in there?::
"I...uhhhh...well, I was jus' lookin' to...." Angelo stammered, floundering. "Uhh...what're you in here for?" he finished lamely.
There was a beat before the answer came, tinged with sarcasm. ::I wanted t'brush me teeth.::
"Ohh...ha! Haah ha!" Angelo gave a loud, fake laugh, flushing the toilet madly to cover the crackly noise while he stuffed the paper inside his shirt.
He sauntered out and clapped Jonothon's shoulder.
"Tha's funny, man," Angelo said, beaming widely. "Brush your teeth. Haaah." He could feel the paper slipping as he headed for the door, trying not to be too obvious about clutching it to his chest.
Jono watched, bemused. ::Heart problems, mate?::
"Wha-? Oh, oh yeah, hahh hah haa! Yeah, keep it up, man!"
The bathroom door shut behind Angelo and he cringed at the inanity of his remarks. Jono must think he was completely loony.
Oh, well.
The things you'd do for love.
Although ants kept marching across his paper and there were leaves and itty-bitty green caterpillars dropping from the trees, lying outside was still better for writing love-letters than the antiseptic bathroom.
Angelo chewed desperately at his pencil, hoping that it had absorbed his thoughts at last writing and would give them back to him now. But if you'd find it in your heart to give me a try, Country Mouse, maybe we could find what we're both missing. This might not be true for you but I'm pretty lonely, and if I knew that I had you to hold me in your arms and run your fingers through my hair and soothe everything away then I think I could really be--
"What's this? The City Mouse doing a little slumming in the country?"
Paige's warm cornflower-blue eyes met Angelo's startled brown ones as he sat up against the tree trunk, staring at her, jaw hanging slightly agape.
He caught himself and managed a smile, although it was nervous at best.
"Hey, even us City Mice can do with a lil' tree-hugging once inna blue moon."
That was good. A throwaway line with the usual mocking tang to it. She shouldn't notice a thing.
Paige snorted, shoving her hands into the pockets of her favourite worn coveralls. "Whutever."
Angelo sighed in relief and Paige smiled, her attention focused now on the late morning view of the campus grounds.
"Ah love that fresh spring smell in the air," she mused, closing her eyes. "An' the sun, an' that gentle whisper of wind, just so ya don't feel too hot..."
She turned her rapturous face up to the warm fingers of sunlight and Angelo felt his heart hitch in his chest at the way her suddenly luminous hair framed her face, the way the sun flecked her smooth skin with gold.
He was still staring, transported, when Paige looked over at him and down at the notebook and grubby pencil he was clutching.
"What're ya writing?" she inquired, craning her neck to see.
Angelo shot to his feet, slamming the book against his chest. "Writing? Oh, nuthin'. Y'know, jus' that essay we're supposed t'write. The homework."
Paige was dubious. "Homework," she repeated. "That's...responsible of ya."
"You know me, chica. Responsiblilty's my middle name."
"Uh-huh." Paige folded her arms. "Well, ah can help ya with it. Read it to me."
Angelo twitched.
"C'mon, Ange! It can't be that bad!"
She was smiling. She was enjoying seeing him squirm.
Angelo felt a sudden rush of defiance that overwhelmed any awkward mushy feelings. Fine. She wanted him to read it, fine.
He cleared his throat and began.
"Dear Paige." Angelo snuck a glance at her and was satisfied to see a crease between those delicate blonde eyebrows. He continued with aplomb, almost savouring it.
"I am writing to tell you how I feel since it is Valentine's day and all."
The words caught in his dry throat, ringing hollowly in the silent air, and suddenly this didn't seem like such a good idea anymore. Angelo was starting to feel like a lovesick idiot, with Paige just standing there and not saying a thing or reacting in any way.
His voice cracked as he read on.
"I know you probably already kinda know..."
Trailing off, Angelo looked up from the paper at Paige, his eyes carrying the force of his emotions; he wanted her to know how he felt, despite how uncomfortable the telling was. Wanted to have something happen--one way or another.
And his message was obviously getting across. Her arms still folded, Paige was blinking profusely, a faint blush of color in her cheeks, her breathing rapid, biting a corner of her lip.
"Know what?" she whispered, her voice small.
"...how I feel about you...." Angelo murmured, taking a step closer.
Paige breathed his name, helpless, and closed her eyes when she felt his mouth claim hers.
The notebook fluttered from his hand and lay whiffling at their feet, touched by the same breeze that blew strands of Paige's bright hair against Angelo's face and streaked them both with gold.
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08:31 pm
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Just for Fun
Quotes
Paige: "There are enough Guthrie's to take over a small country."
Paige(talking to Chamber): "Good, go home, see if I care....jerk!"
(During Jono's stay in Kentucky):
Chamber: "now come on, I always apologize better on a full stomach."
Husk: "But... you dont eat."
Chamber: "Oh, rub it in."
(An excerpt from Paige's diary about Chamber):
"He stared at me with eyes that are like the mirrors of my own longing. He has no voice for what he feels for me, his lips are the stuff of stars and galaxies, his tongue a cosmic whisper. I ache for the wholeness that cannot be. My ears strain for the unspoken words that lurk beneath his marble brow; his testament of undying love...."
Paige: "Isn't that the whole reason we're at this school, to learn how to be the best mutants we can be?"
Paige: "The way I figure, big brother, being mutants is easy for us, now being a family, that's hard!"
Paige: "I realize I'm supposed witty comment prepared all ready to distract you while I tan your hide six ways till Sunday but I'm still new to this. You won't mind if I skip ahead to the part where I kick your butt?!"
Paige: "Ah don't know what makes me madder, gal, the fact that ya thought that I was as stupid to believe you weren't playin' possum or the fact you were right!"
Paige(talking to Warren): "You idiot. You've put me through all this emotional upheaval because you're afraid I'm going to die? And that my dying might somehow be your fault? I'm nineteen years old, Warren. That's legal age to make my own mistakes in most states, including the one where we reside. That means I can choose to fight for my country, who I have a relationship with, and whether or not I will put myself in harm's way for a cause I believe in. Your are NOT my replacement father figure, your are NOT my babysitter. Your are the man I chose to give my heart to, and you're treating it like dirt, no matter what your intentions. You should have been talking to me, not my mother. You should have told me your were afraid. You should have given me some understanding instead of treating me like you didn't care."
Warren: "Your right, and I'm sorry."
Paige: "It's too late for sorry. How many times have I come to you? How many times have I asked for something? Anything? And you open up to my mother!? No wonder Betsy stopped loving you!"
Fan Fiction - Visiting Sunnydale
A spell gone wrong lands Husk and Chamber in Sunnydale, California, while the Slayer and her wayward love interest Angel end up in Snow Valley...
"We have got to get back." Buffy paced uneasily. "With me gone, and Faith locked up, there's no Slayer. Sunnydale's helpless until I return, or until the Great Whatever realizes there's a hole and lays the Slayer mojo on some other girl." She frowned thoughtfully. "'Course that usually happens only if a Slayer dies, so I'm not sure what will happen."
"If Paige looks enough like you to fool magic and to freak your friends like you freaked us," Angelo considered, "Maybe she can understudy your Slayer gig 'til we find out how to get you home."
"I...don't think so," Buffy shook her head. "It's not something that comes without training and some pretty specialized skills."
"Specialized skills like ripping off her natural born skin and producing a body underneath of whatever she damn well feels like?" Angelo offered in return.
"Whatever she...?" Buffy paused, startled.
Jubilee nodded. "Her power. We've all got special ones, but that's what Paige can do."
"Can she turn into wood?"
"Easily," Monet confirmed.
Buffy sighed, a bit relieved. "She might survive long enough for me to get home after all."
Current Music: Throw Your Arms Around Me - Hunters & Collectors
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