Hello! Finally! Here is the Prequel to Hello, My Name Is Mr Right, My Ass :D Much like Mr. Right, I will pretty much be winging this story. I figured since that's how I wrote Mr. Right, I should just do that again. I do have small things that I want to happen, but other than those, this is all writing as i go :)
Just to let you all know, you won't be seeing Blaine, Jace, Lauren, Aaron, or really anyone else from the Mr. Right story since that is all in the future. However, you will still see Mr. Phelps and Katie, and you will also finally get to meet Papa Hall! :D
And for time reference, this story is like a year before Mr. Right takes place. Give or take a few months :D So don't freak out when the Cora you know from the future is different from the Cora in this story.
well, happy reading! :D
Kat
Ps: I know it starts off slow, but i promise it will pick up! :D
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Chapter 1: Allow Me to Introduce Myself, Cora the Caveman
I slipped three quarters into the coin slot and pressed C35. I patiently waited for the black swirl to release my chips. Once it started moving, I stuck my hands in my jacket pocket and waited for the chips to fall. I watched as my chips came closer and closer and once it was about to fall out the worst thing imaginable happened.
It got stuck.
"Are you kidding me?" I muttered under my breath as I tilted my head back in frustration, my wavy blonde hair falling over my shoulders in the process. "Why does this stuff always happen to me?"
I banged on the glass of the vending machine several times but it was no use. My chips were stuck. I even went as far as trying to shake the vending machine but the fact that it was probably fifty times my weight, it came as no surprise that the plan failed.
My chips getting stuck was possibly one of the worst things that could happen. I was starving and it was all thanks to my good for nothing Veg Head sister.
This past summer, Katie decided that she wanted to become a vegetarian. Ever since she went to Warped Tour and the PETA group gave her that DVD that shows you what happens to the animals, she's been committed to the vegan ways. I was supportive of her choice of life early on, until it started messing with my eating habits. Hamburgers became veggie burgers. Desert soon changed into salad. Breakfast was an organic shake. I was going to go crazy.
I mean, it’s not like I couldn’t eat meat in front of Katie, it’s just I prefer to eat without my little sister staring daggers at me with every bite.
The only reason I'm still sane is because my dad feels the same way. We soon began sneaking food into the house. After diner, we’d go out to our tree house and eat real food. My dad was a Head Chef at Olive Garden so he’d usually bring a dish that he made, or some ice cream that he picked up from Scoopy’s, my favorite frozen custard shop.
This is why I was so close to my dad. He got me. He never had to ask how I was feeling about something, because usually he was feeling the same way. Like when my mom went on her crazy exotic fruit rampage. For months, my dad, Katie, and I had to drink this weird fruit juice that my mom purchased online through Miracle Juice, Inc. She claimed that if we took this juice we’d never get sick. Katie was all for the idea, but my dad and I both thought it was crazy. My mom finally gave up on the Miracle Juice when Katie came down with the flu.
I just wish convincing my mom and Katie that this meat hatred phase is crazy would be as easy as that was.
However, this morning when I packed my lunch; a ham and turkey sandwich, Katie saw. And you can expect the scene she made.
"Do you know what they do to those pigs?" She had asked me. "You're just as bad as everyone else!"
Usually, the shouting would catch our parent’s attention, but they had already left for work, so it was me against Katie.
Then she did something, even before I had a chance to defend myself. She reached forward, grabbed the packages of turkey and ham and threw it into the trash compactor. I had no time to react before she turned it on.
And just like that my lunch was gone and with no time to make a second one since it was almost time for the bus to pick us up.
And that's how I got to the vending machine during my lunch period.
"I hate you, vending machine. All I ask for is a bag of chips and you can't do that?" I asked the inanimate object, and then added, "If I starve, it'll be all your fault. So I hope you're happy." I growled as I pulled the strap of my backpack tighter around my shoulder.
"I swear," I said to the machine, pointing my finger at it accusingly. "I will get you for this. If I don't get you. I'll make sure your baby vending machines pay for my Doritos. Mark my words."
And with that, I gave the machine one last punch for good measure.
As I was going to back away from the vending machine, giving up on my bag of chips, I hit something hard.
Or someone, considering I heard a low grunt.
"Oh crap, sorry," I muttered as I turned my head to see who I hit.
I froze once I saw his ice blue eyes. They were hidden behind his sandy hair, which swept across his forehead in the most attractive manner. I couldn't believe out of all the people to run into, it was him.
Abel Rivers.
He was a year ahead of me, which meant he was a senior at North Rise. From what I’ve heard about him, he was the type of guy that didn’t really care what anybody else thought of him. He did what he wants, when he wants. I've only seen him a couple of times around school, with his backpack slung over one shoulder and his hair windblown from his motorcycle. I've always admired him from afar, but this was the first time I've ever talked to him.
And the worst thing was he just saw me freaking out on the vending machine. There was no doubt in my mind that I looked like a caveman hitting the machine. Just give me a stick and tattered up clothes and you can put me on display at your local museum; I'll be there all week.
A playful smile crossed his full lips. "Is everything okay?" He asked.
"Um, my chips got stuck," I mumbled helplessly as I pointed one finger back at the vending machine.
He studied the machine, nodding as he spotted the stuck bag of Doritos. "Cooler Ranch? My favorite."
I couldn't help but smile at that. Did he just compliment my choice of chips? I think he did. Quick, Cora, play it cool.
"Yeah, it’s stuck."
Really, Cora? You just repeated yourself.
He chuckled. "I can see that. Do you need help?"
I nodded my head in response. I didn't speak just in case I said another stupid thing.
He took a step toward the side of the machine and inspected it as if he were trying to crack this ancient old code. He ran his hands along the side, feeling every inch of the machine. I waited in amazement.
Then, without warning, he kicked the machine. The loud thud of his boot echoed through the courtyard followed by a small thud.
The sound of my Doritos falling.
My mouth dropped in amazement. Why didn't I think of that? "Oh my god, thank you so much!"
He leaned down and retrieved my chips. "No problem,” He trailed off, looking around the courtyard.
He looked disinterested so I said the first thing that crossed my mind.
"Cora." I said suddenly.
"Huh?" He tilted his head in confusion.
I was such an idiot. I calmed down and repeated myself. "I mean, my name is Cora."
"Well, Cor-" He started but then got cut off.
"Mr. Rivers."
We both stopped and looked at the tall, lanky man that now stood two feet from us. He had one hand on his hip and the other deep in his pocket. I've never had a conversation with this man before, but I knew who he was. Heck, everyone knew he was. He was the principal of North Rise High.
"Hey, Phelps," Abel said casually as he leaned against the vending machine as if he were its master. "What can I do for you?"
"What did I tell you about handling school property?" Mr. Phelps asked sternly, obviously not fazed by Abel's nonchalance. "I trust that I wouldn't have to remind you that you're walking a thin line."
I always knew that Abel was never one to listen to the rules. I've heard a lot of rumors about him talking out in class and getting into fights. Now that I think of it, I do remember overhearing to upperclassman girls in the bathroom last week. They were talking about how Abel ran his motorcycle into Ms. Walters’s new car. He claimed it was an accident but everyone knows that Ms. Walters reported him to Mr. Phelps for suspected drug use.
"Yes, sir," Abel said mockingly as he saluted our principal.
Mr. Phelps narrowed his eyes at him, "Just go eat your lunch, Mr. Rivers and try not to kick anything on your way."
"I won't make any promises," Abel answered as he started backing away. He caught my eye before he turned and that was the first time I saw it.
The left side of his mouth, along with his left eyebrow, raised into a devilish expression. Everything about that face showed confidence, and couldn't help but admire it for that reason. Just as quickly as the expression came, it disappeared; and just like that I was watching him walk away toward the student parking lot.
Mr. Phelps turned towards me and looked at me with curiosity. "I don't recognize you, which means you've never been sent to my office. Let's try to keep it that way. Shall we?"
I bit my lower lip and nodded. "Of course."
"And for future reference," Mr. Phelps added, "Getting yourself caught up with Abel Rivers is never a good place to start."
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“Okay,” I said as I took a bite of my cookie dough sundae. “How far do you think mom and Katie are going to take this?”
It was after dinner and like usual; we were laying in the tree house, enjoying our after dinner talks. My mom and Katie think that we are out here working on my curveball. My dad is up against the back wall, facing me. He had already devoured his ice cream, so his empty cup was next to his knee.
“I’ll give it another two weeks.” My dad answered, grinning.
“Just two weeks?” I questioned, raising my eyebrow. “No, I’ll give it at least a month.Mom is just agreeing with Katie because she loves the idea of us eating healthier, and Katie seems dedicated to this. I think she might actually stick with it.”
Katie was always the type of girl that would get all hyped up over something, but then once she realizes how hard it is, she quits. It was like that when she joined Ballet. Once she got her first blister, she was out of there. The same with French horn lessons and not to mention her art class. She quit all of those, but for some reason, I had a feeling that this was different.
“A month? Don’t say that. I don’t think I can go on living like this.” He complained. “Do you know how many times your mom asked why I smelt like meat sauce? We’re just lucky that I’m a chef or else our covers would’ve been blown for sure.”
“What do you think would’ve happened if they found out?” I asked, thinking about the possibilities.
“I don’t even want to think about it.” He answered shaking his head. “We’d probably have to run away.”
“And change our names.” I added.
“We could live with a traveling circus.” My dad played along, “That means you’ll need to let your beard grow out.”
“Jerk!” My jaw dropped and my hand instinctively shot up to my face, as if trying to feel if I had magically grown a beard in the past twenty minutes. Like usual, it has hair free. Crumpled up my napkin and threw it at my dad, to which he easily swatted away.
“We have to make a living somehow,” He said defensively.
“Well, lucky for us, we don’t have to run away. We can just live out in the tree house until they get sick of Veggie Burgers.” I said, lying down on my back, tucking my arms underneath my head.
“Which according to you will be a month,” He pointed out.
“And you don’t think that’s correct?”
“No, I don’t. I think you did your math wrong.”
“My math?” I asked, suppressing a laugh. “What math could possibly be done with this?”
“Well, first you had to consider the amount of vegetarian food eaten, divide that by the amount of days they have been vegetarian, and then you cross multiply that with X over one hundred. Easy.”
“What the heck are you talking about?” I laughed, holding my stomach. “Dad, I think you should calm down on the math talk.”
He smiled. “This is what happens when I can’t eat meat in my own house without being discriminated against for it. Okay, all this meat talk is depressing me." My dad announced. "Change of subject! Did you see the new Red Sox game?"
"Oh my god! Yes I did!"
And just with that, we spent another hour talking about baseball. If there was one thing my dad loved other than his family, it'd be baseball. Ever since he was a little boy, he played. He played first base and from what my Uncle Mark tells me, my dad was very good. He got offers to play for college, but he turned them down. For what reason? I don't know.
This was another reason I was close to my dad. We both shared a love for baseball. I guess, I got my love for the sport from my dad, considering I've never played on a team. But, whenever there was a Red Sox game on, you can bet that my dad and I would be sitting in the living room, Diet Coke in hand, and chicken wings on the table. We were dedicated.
"So, how was school today? Anything cool happen?" My dad asked, suddenly changing the subject.
I smiled a little just thinking about my run in with Abel. I was thankful that my dad couldn't see my face because I was pretty sure I was blushing. There was no way I'd mention that to my dad. He would think I was some crazy, obsessed girl. I mean, I shouldn't be excited over one conversation.
So instead of telling my dad all about how Katie ruined my lunch, how I passed my math test, how I was assigned a new lab partner for chemistry, and how I talked to Abel Rivers for the first time; I gave him the standard answer.
"It was good."
"Very nice, Cora! Now, can you rephrase that in two syllables or less? I think your last answer was a bit too wordy for my taste." My dad said, his voice oozing with sarcasm.
I laughed. "Well, what do you want me to say? It was pretty boring day at school."
"Well, I still like to hear how it's going. I don't pay for you to go to school to tell me three worded answers."
"Please! Its public school, you don't pay at all."
"I pay taxes, it's the same thing." He pointed out.
"We both know you'd never send us to some private school." I Said.
He nodded in agreement. "I don't see the point. Just a bunch of rich people, blowing their money on a paid education rather than a free one."
"Yeah, I don't think I'd ever want to go a place where I actually have to pay to learn. It's like paying the executioner to kill you." I added.
My dad smiled proudly at me. "And this is why you're my daughter." He laughed. "So, nothing exciting today?"
"Well, I did meet the principal for the first time today." I said. "Hopefully, it'll be the last time I see him too because he sort of scares me."
"Wait, what?" He asked, curiously. "Cora, I thought your mother and I taught you better. You got sent to the principals?"
"Yes, dad. I totally got sent to the principals today. I said, returning his sarcasm from earlier.
"What'd you do?"
Did he not catch on to the fact that I was joking? Might as well play along.
"Oh, you know, they just caught me selling drugs on school grounds." I said, nonchalantly.
"Cora Rae Hall!" My dad yelled, sitting straight up. "I believe you'd do that? Haven't your mother and I always told you that drugs were bad? I can't believe you right now, Cora!"
I stared at my dad in silence. A vein on his forehead was popping out, which was a sure sign that he was actually mad.
"Whoa, Dad! I was joking!" I said putting my hands up in defense. "You know, I'd never do that stuff."
My dad became less tense as all the anger drained from his face. He placed his hand over his chest, as if trying to calm himself down. A small smile formed on his lips.
"God, Cora. I swear you'll be the death of me."
These are the moments that I live for. All the nights my dad and I would just talk. We don’t even have to be talking about something important. All I knew was that if I could talk to my dad for the rest of my life, I would be set until the day I die. I would be able to face any problem because I’d know that I’d have my funny, crazy, caring, Red Sox loving father with me, and supporting me every step of the way.
.