Alice
“My life is miserable.” Zoey groaned. “I don’t want to be here.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” I tried to assure my broken hearted friend. She won’t admit to being broken hearted, of course, but I think she is. Just because they weren’t dating doesn’t mean that she didn’t have a tad crush on the boy, and now he’s gone and I feel really bad for Zoey.
She turned and looked at me with a hint of a glare as we walked down the hallway. “What else is there to do?”
“Revenge, whining, crying, ranting, anything. Just stop beating yourself up over it. He’s definitely not worth it and you’re a shooting star so don’t let him shoot you down.”
That made Zoey laugh, which was good because she hasn’t laughed in the past 24 hours. “Is that a quote from somewhere?”
I shook my head proudly. “Nope. I just made it up and I think it was pretty darn cute, not to mention great advice.”
“Sure, whatever you say.” She sang as we continued walking towards our seventh period classes. “I’m going into art with you, because I do not want to see him right now at all.”
“Okay.” I agreed with her. “But only for today, you can’t run from your writing class all year.”
“I know.” She whined. “I wish that were the case, though, that’d be really nice.”
“Well, that’s not the case, so buck up.” I chirped teasingly, turning down the hallway to where my art class was.
“Ugh, I hate him so much.” She mumbled gruffly.
“He’s such a jerk.” I huffed in complete agreement.
“I know!” Zoey continued to rant as she sat beside me and watched as I began to draw a flower. We were given a free period since the art teacher, Mr. Roman, wasn’t there today so I decided to draw a flower. I offered to let Zoey draw with me but she declined to nobody’s surprise, she really can’t draw. We were both pretty artsy, just in different departments. We both liked to sing but I also liked to draw and paint whereas Zoey enjoys writing, and she’s really good at it, although she doesn’t really let me read a lot of what she writes, which is baffling, but it’s her business, I suppose. I like to show people my art, it’s freeing, I think. I paint my emotions, so when people see my artwork, they see how I’m feeling. I dunno, I just think that it’s kind of cool how that works.
“What are you going to do?” I asked her.
“I’m going to just stop talking to him, that’s it.” She declared, grabbing a piece of notebook paper and then she began to angrily scribble on the poor paper.
“That’s it?” I asked with raised eyebrows. “You gotta be at least a little sad.”
“I am sad.” She admitted with a slight frown with her brown eyes downcast onto the flimsy white paper on the table in front of her. “But I’m not going to cry about it.”
“I’ll get ice cream anyway and we’ll stay at my house tonight.” I suggested. “I think my Pocahontas DVD is getting a little dusty anyway.”
“You can’t solve everything with Disney movies, Ali.” Zoey chuckled, rolling her eyes at me.
I grinned innocently at her and began shading in the rough sketch of my flower. “Oh, but darling, I can try.”
She smiled softly and then jumped slightly when she realized that she was scribbling so angrily on the piece of paper that her pencil broke. With an effortless groan, she dropped the pencil onto the table and then looked over at my paper with the flower on it. “So what kind of flower are you drawing?”
“A hibiscus.” I replied. “I think.”
“Don’t those have five leaves?” Zoey asked with raised eyebrows. “Yours has six.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t really drawing a hibiscus, I don’t even know what those look like to be honest, I just know that I was drawing a flower. I only said hibiscus because it’s a fun word to say and it’s the first flower that popped into my head. “It’s like, hipster or something.” I defended. “It’s perfect just the way it is.”
“It’s beautiful.” She laughed as I started coloring the petals pink with a colored pencil. Can hibiscuses be pink? I have no clue.
“Yes, I know.” I gloated. Of course, I wasn’t that egocentric, I was just teasing her, but I think it was a pretty sassy hibiscus if you ask me. I mean, the hibiscus has an extra petal- you can’t really get anymore sassy than that.
“Hey, isn’t that the blonde guy from the first day of school?” Zoey asked curiously, pointing to the blonde guy on the other side of the room. I looked over to see her pointing at a guy that I knew to be Jason. I don’t know why she doesn’t know who he is since he’s in our English class, but it’s not like they’ve ever spoken or anything. Which is lucky for Zoey, because I don’t like Jason, he’s kind of a jerk.
“Yeah.” I sighed. “His name is Jason and he’s in our English class, Zoe.”
“You know his name?” She asked in what seemed to be surprise when she turned her head to look at me once again.
“Yes.” I laughed. “I have two classes with him.”
“He’s cute.” She mentioned.
“Go for it.” I giggled. When she gave me a dirty look, I just laughed once again. “What? He is cute, he’d be a good rebound. Although, he’s kind of a meanie, but a good rebound nonetheless.”
“I don’t need a rebound, I was never in a relationship.” Zoey defended with a soft glare that I knew meant nothing.
I gave her a small smile. “Well then a rebound friend.” I corrected myself.
“Who gets a rebound friend?” She asked incredulously. “Losers maybe, but I don’t need a rebound friend, that’s ridiculous.”
“Work with me here, Zoe!” I heaved in mock exasperation. “You’re the one who asked about him anyway.”
“I was just curious.” She defended. “I thought he looked familiar. Are you sure he’s in our English class?”
I nodded. “I’m positive, I worked with him for that Hamlet thing, remember?”
She shrugged. “No, I wasn’t paying that much attention.”
I snorted teasingly. “Obviously.”
We talked for the rest of the period. Well, mostly Zoey ranted about her newfound hatred for Danny and I listened and agreed, although I kinda think she’s being really hard on him. With reason, of course, but if he’s telling the truth, which he better be, then he really does care about her. But I wasn’t going to tell Zoey that and defend him right now because she was pissed all she needed was somebody to agree with her. Personally, I think they’ll work things out eventually. I give her a few weeks to be upset and then everything will be okay between them again, once he apologizes and explains himself. I have faith in Danny, even if Zoey doesn’t.
~~~~
“I’m going to go get ice cream.” I told Zoey as we fell onto my bed after changing from our school clothes into jammies in preparation for Pocahontas. We were going to have an afternoon full of bumming, so we had to get prepared.
“Let’s watch it in the theater.” Zoey suggested.
I nodded in agreement. The theater was always so well air conditioned and it was a cool place to hang out, with the cozy chairs and huge screen for movies such as Pocahontas. “Sure, I’ll meet you in there.” I told her as we both left my room. I went towards the stairs to go to the kitchen and Zoey went down the other hall towards the home theater to claim our seats, even though we were the only ones that were going to be in there.
When I got downstairs, Steve, one of our three chefs, was at the stove cooking something. I heard the sizzle of the food, but from where I was standing, I couldn’t see what exactly it was that he was making.
“Whatcha cooking?” I asked curiously when I smelled the delicious smell. Steve was a really good cook, but I usually liked to cook for myself. It’s kind of one of those ‘I like to be independent’ things. It just feels weird having somebody cook for me, even though I’ve been around it all my life, it’s just weird and I kind of like cooking, so it works out better for me if I just cook my own food. And because both of my parents were on their own business trips (shocker, right?), he must have been cooking something for Patrick, my older brother. He’s the only other person that lives in this house, so it has to be his food.
“Hamburgers,” Steve replied with a small smile “would you care for one, Alice?” I love that he doesn’t call me Miss. Bowman. It took him forever, but about a year ago, he finally appeased me and called me by my first name, which is why he’s my favorite chef in the house.
“Hmm, fancy.” I chuckled. “But no thank you, I’m on an ice cream diet tonight.” I grabbed two cartons of ice cream from our freezer- one chocolate for me and the other one birthday cake for Zoey. I, personally, do not think that birthday cake should be a legal flavor of ice cream, it doesn’t even taste like cake and what’s the point of putting ‘birthday’ in front of it? Does wedding cake and birthday cake taste different? However, it’s Zoey’s favorite, so there’s always a good stock of it in both of our freezers right next to my chocolate- a classic, normal flavor.
“How much longer on the food?” Patrick’s voice carried into the kitchen as I was getting two spoons out of the drawer. I looked up to see him walking in with his blonde hair spiked and a tight t-shirt with designer jeans. He was obviously dressed to impress. That’s what he wears when he’s trying to get a girl to come home with him. Patrick was twenty, so I don’t know why he hasn’t moved out of the house yet, but it doesn’t really bug me at all, since I don’t see him much and it’s not like there isn’t room for him to stay here.
“Just a few minutes, Mr. Bowman.” Steve said politely. His tone was majorly different from talking to me compared to when he’s talking to Patrick. I think he likes me better than Patrick, because my brother’s a little on the stuck up side. I mean, I love my brother and all, but the family name really went to his head when he was about thirteen or so. The only way we got along was by not socializing too much. Just a short greeting when we run into each other in the house is really the limit of our interaction.
“Why are you wearing pajamas? It’s like four in the afternoon.” Patrick asked me curiously.
I shrugged. “I like to live on the edge. Good luck tonight.”
He smirked. “Like I need it.”
I rolled my eyes at him, only half playfully, and exited the kitchen to give him some privacy with his food, going back up to the theater.
“What took so long, did you get lost?” Zoey teased once I got into the room and handed Zoey her birthday cake ice cream with a spoon to go with it.
“Yes, in my own house, Zoe.” I retorted sarcastically.
She just laughed while I turned the projector on and slid Pocahontas into the DVD player to get this party started. “Really, what took so long?”
“I ran into Patrick in the kitchen.” I explained.
“He’s going out?” Zoey asked curiously.
I nodded. “Is that surprising?”
“Well, it’s a Monday.”
I shrugged and turned off the lights just as I started the movie. “It’s never stopped him before.”
“True.” Zoey laughed, but then we were quiet as the movie started and we sat down in two of the cozy recliners in the front row of the three rows of recliners.
After Pocahontas, we watched Alice in Wonderland- Zoey’s favorite- and after that one, I was about to ask her which movie was next, but I looked over to see that she had tears streaking her beautiful face.
“Zoey.” I said softly, moving over to sit on her lap and pulled her close to me. “Zoe, he’s not worth it.”
“I know, but-“ She croaked, resting her head on my shoulder. “I just want, just once, to be fucking good enough for somebody.”
“You’re good enough for me.” I attempted.
“You know what I mean.” She sighed before letting out another sob.
“I know.” I muttered. “But you are good enough, it’s everybody else who are the assholes who can’t see how great you are.”
“I really thought he actually liked me.” She whimpered. “I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.” I assured her sternly. “We just see the good in people, it’s one of our many flaws. That’s why we put up our wall, because we’re too gullible.”
“Will you cut off his fingers tomorrow?” Zoey asked with a sniffle.
“Every last one.” I assured her. “And his toes, too. You can’t forget the toes. Or at least his big toes, so he has to stumble everywhere and when you throw rocks at him, he’ll topple over.”
She laughed softly, but she was still crying. And seeing her cry, my eyes began to water too, because I really thought that Danny was a nice guy. Zoey was the one affected, but I was fooled too. We really believed that he truly wanted to get to know Zoey. I personally believed that he had formed a crush on her- and he should, she’s amazing, but he lied. He’s such a dirty liar. How can somebody know everything that Zoey had told him and still lie to her like that? I didn’t get it, Zoey is so amazing, I don’t get why people would want to hurt her or lie to her or exploit her, I just really didn’t get it. People are so shitty sometimes. Scratch that- most of the time.
I know I was defending Danny earlier, and I still think that he tried to be a good guy, and he is a good guy. But what he did, it was just really, incredibly shitty and I don’t think anybody, not even Danny himself, can argue against that.
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” She croaked.
“You’re not wrong.” I assured her quickly. “You’re perfect, they’re just too stupid to see that.”
She continued to cry and a tear leaked down my face but I quickly wiped it away, knowing that this wasn’t my time to cry, it was Zoey’s. I had to be there for her.
“I told him everything.” She whispered.
“I know.” I sighed, pulling her into a tight hug. “But he isn’t worth this.”
“He was like, the nicest guy ever. I mean, if even the nice guys like that can’t honestly want to get to know us without lies and shit, then really what do we have?” She asked.
I closed my eyes and whispered. “Each other.”
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There's a picture of Derek Hough (who plays Patrick) on the side, if you want to see it :P
Thank you so much for reading!! <3