Copyright © 2014. All rights reserved. No part of the materialize may be copied, photocopied, reproduced, translated or reduced to any electronic medium or machine-readable form, in whole or in part, without specific permission.
This book is written purely for fun. Sure, there will be serious moments added to it, but at the end of the day I want you guys to laugh, swoon, and fall in love with the characters.
Hopefully you like it!
Much love,
-Nickymb<3
"It is only through the rules of The Checklist that you find the perfect man."
- Ender Collins
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Rule #1: You snooze, you lose
Once a boy is claimed, look the other way.
No boy, even a perfect one, is worth losing a nail over.
Unless it’s Orlando bloom.
ALWAYS lose a nail for Orlando Bloom.
There’s a boy outside my door.
Usually this is the time I would freak out. I mean, there’s a boy outside my door. And even if I didn’t freak out, I would atleast check to make sure I looked okay and wasn’t flashing him my boobs. Because when it came to good looking boys standing in front of me, I almost always showed boob.
I called it the boob curse.
“Hello?” Mr. Goodlooking says before giving me the most breathtaking smile this side of Florida has ever seen. Did I just swoon? I take a step back from the door, my hands still on the handle.
Either this was a huge prank or he was about to kill me. Because boys like him don’t knock on my door. Actually, no boys knock on my door.
“Is Ellie here?” Ah, now it makes since. Sighing, I open the door wider and wave him in. I take the opportunity to watch his butt as he takes a small step over the threshold and into the foyer.
Yeah, he had a nice butt.
“Ellie!” I shout, grabbing the bag of popcorn I layed on an end table when Mr. Gorgeous decided to knock. “Your dates here!”
I shove the buttery deliciousness in my mouth before walking past the guy and heading back to the living room. Even if I did want to stay in the foyer and stare at his godly butt, it would be very unsisterly of me.
I’m just about to restart my show, when my sister bounds down the stairs and shouts my name. “Ender, Mom won’t be home till later. You know the rules.” Rolling my eyes, I turn around and watch as the guy grabs my sisters pocket book and kisses her hand at the same time. Seriously, who was this guy?
And where can I get one?!
My sister blushes an unnatural shade of red. Then, as if she can sense that I’m watching, she looks over toward me and glares when she see’s that I am indeed staring.
“How about instead of watching me you watch your popcorn.” And that’s the Ellie I know so well and love. Shrugging, I bring three fingers to my mouth, kiss them, and bring them up for her date to see.
I even add in a small whistle.
“Isn’t that from The Hunger Games?” The guy asks before my sister grabs his arm and practically drags him out the door. If there is one thing my sister doesn’t like, It’s getting one upped.
Turning around, I reach over for the black notebook I never let leave my sight. This baby right here is my everything. It’s like those silly stuff animals that kids carry around and never let leave their sights.
Pulling my pen out of the spine, I flip over to a new blank page and write.
Rule #222: Door means more.
Make sure any guy you date picks you up at the door.
If they don’t have enough decency to get their asses out of their car, they don’t deserve the pleasure of your company.
Smiling, I start to doodle a little heart at the end of the rule when my cell-phone goes off next to me. Not even bothering to look, I press talk and lean it against my shoulder. Sadly, I’m still doodling the heart.
“Hello?”
“Let me guess, you’re writing in the Checklist.”
I quickly close the notebook, shove my pen in the spine, and throw it on the cushion next to me. “No.” Atleast, I’m not anymore. My best friend, Madison, sighs over the line. The sigh says plenty.
“You’re a bad liar.”
“No I’m not.”
“God,” She groans good naturally. “I can even tell when you are lying about lying.” I pop a piece of popcorn into my mouth and look up at my show that’s still on pause.
“Mads, is there a point to this phone call?” When it came to Madison, she was the kind of person to call for no reason at all but to just call and annoy.
“Actuactually, yes.”
I wait a few moments, waiting for her to tell me exactly why she called me, but when she says nothing I shake my head. One day I’m going to kill her. “Madison the reason please.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, I was watching some guy walk across the street in a Jesus outfit. Anyways, we are going to a party tonight.”
I can’t help but laugh. Besides the fact that the last party we went to was a disaster, Madison and I were totally not partying people. The last party we got invited to was Madison’s great grandmothers ninety seven birthday party.
It’s not because we're complete losers, we just don’t get noticed. And after three years of high school and not once getting invited to a party, you get used to it. Obviously Madison has a different idea.
I can’t help but wonder if there’s a different reason behind why she wants to go to this one. Growing up, she was always the one who said not being on top was a privilege. Madison liked living unnoticed in the middle.
So why she wants to change that the night before our senior year is beyond me.
“A party?” I ask, still weary. Like I said, the last party we went too didn’t end well. It was eighth grade and I ended up puking all over Brittany Pierces hair.
That was when Madison and I were relatively on the popular scale. But what I didn’t expect at an eighth grade sleepover was wine coolers. And all it did was ruin my way to the top.
That’s what happens when you puke on the most popular girl at Westside High.
“Yes a party,” I hear her honk at something before she continues.”Plus this will be good for you. I mean, maybe now you can test your checklist theory.”
Rigghhhttt.
“Remember what happened last time we tried it?” I can literally picture Madison grimacing. The one problem with having a checklist on finding the perfect guy is actually not having guy’s to test it on.
The one and only time I actually had a guy to test all my rules on, he turned out to be, well, a little crazy. “Okay, maybe we won’t try that again. But Ender, this is it. Senior year starts tomorrow and don’t you want this year to be, I don’t know, different?”
Of course I want it to be different. I didn’t like being the only girl at Westside to never be able to see the inside of a guys car.Or experience what having a bunch of friends is like.
I mean, yeah, I want to go out there and do crazy things. I want to make memories that will last a life time.
But that’s not me.
“Madison, I don’t-”
“Please.”
Great, now she was going to beg. Running a hand through my hair, I look over at the time on the cable box. It was only nine. My mom wouldn’t be home for another three hours. Ellie? All night if she had anything to do with it.
What is one party in the scheme of things?!
“Fine.”
Madison high pitch squeal is the only thing I hear before I hang up five minutes later. Relaxing against the couch, it takes me a few seconds to realize what I just did was stupid. With a capital S. Beside the fact that I have no reason to go to this thing, I also have nothing to wear.
Damn Madison!
I shove off the couch and only after making sure my popcorn was okay do I seriously freak out. Forget the freaking clothes! What do I say? What do I do? Drinking is totally out of the question unless I want another incident like eighth grade.
If I take all the parties I’ve seen on t.v into perspective, I was in for one hell of a night. But I doubt I will end up trashing a house and later be found naked in my school's parking lot.
Though, that scenario is not completely off the table.
It’s only ten minutes later and when Madison shows up that I stop freaking out. Now, I’m beyond pissed.
I look down at the outfit that Madison decided to pull out of my closet. Barely there shorts and a nonexistent shirt are the only thing on the bed. Hell, she didn’t even lay out underwear.
Thank god she remembered the bra.
“It’s like I’m some low paying groupie.” I finger the half shirt and realize I will be showing more stomach then I would like too. Madison looks down at where my fingers are skimming the shirt and smiles.
“I can pierce your belly button if you want?”
“That answer will be and forever be no.” She shrugs like it was a good idea before bending down and lifting up the only pair of boots I own.
“Why are you holding winter boots?” She just stares at me for a moment, the boots still in her hand, waiting for me to get it. And when I do, my jaw threatens to drop. “No. No freaking way am I wearing those.”
She throws the boots on my bed, completely ignoring my refusal. She then proceeds to walk to my make-up bag and rifle through all it’s contents.
I look at the outfit again and wonder if tonight is the night I end up getting pregnant. Because the outfit is totally something someone ends up getting pregnant in. Hell, I’m a virgin for Christs sake! A fact, may I add, that is not easy to admit.
“It’s not going to bite,” Madison says while pulling her dark hair into a bun. “Now put it on so I can do your makeup and hair.” She picks up a bright thing of eyeshadow that I’m pretty sure isn’t even mine and a brush.
This is too much.
I don’t want to show up to some party the complete oppisite of who and what I am. If I’m going through this thing, I’m going through it with some shred of dignity.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I reach over and snatch the eyeshadow out of her hand. If she ended up getting any of it on me, I would go to this party looking like a slutty clown.
“How about we meet in the middle? I’ll wear the shirt and boots. That’s it. The rest isn’t negotiable.”
She pouts. “What about the hair?”
A sigh. “You’re lucky I love you. Fine, do it.”
And that’s the last thing I say before everything gets turned upside down.
*~*~*~*
“How about him?”
“Too short.”
“Him?”
“Too loud.”
“Okay... What about that guy over there?”
“Is that even a guy?”
Madison looks over at me with the same aggravated looks she’s given me about ten times in the past hour. Sighing, I lean against the tree behind me and bring the red solo cup to my mouth.
It wasn’t her fault that every guy she picked out wouldn’t even get get past rule number three on my list. Hell, the first guy she pointed at probably wouldn’t even make it to rule number two. Anyone who can’t make it past that rule shouldn’t even be considered an option.
“It’s about the stupid checklist, isn’t it?”
“Mhmm.” I state before taking a big sip of the drink some guy at this party was trying to pass off as beer. Honestly, it tasted more like watered down medicine. The whole way here I swore I wouldn’t drink.
But, the longer I stood in this stupid field listening to stupid music and even stupider conversations, I needed something to take the edge off.
“Ender, I can’t believe you still follow that stupid thing.”
She leans out of the way of some drunken girl walking by and I quickly throw my cup into a bush. Three more of those and I would be looking just like her.
“Madison,” I say, making my voice sound just like hers. “I can’t believe you don’t follow the stupid thing.” Clearing my throat, I give her a barely there smile.
“Besides, I’m here right?!”She gives me a bright smile back before going back to checking out all the people around us.
When we showed up to The Field AKA: The only place anyone knows where to throw a party, I knew this was going to be a long night. First off, the shirt I’m currently wearing didn’t offer any protection against the wind.
On top of that, I’m pretty sure the fire they had raging in the middle of the field would surely catch the surrounding woods on fire.
Add on the cheesy country music, the drunk girls falling and walking away into the trees with their dates, and you have the making of some lame teenage special on what not to do at a party.
The only person I can tell that’s actually enjoying the stupid thing is Madison.
I just wish I had a jacket.
Looking down, I try to pull the half shirt down to cover my overly stomach. When I do, the top goes so far down I end up exposing the left side of my bra.
And as if the universe is out to get me, a guy ends up walking by at the exact same time.
“Boobs!” He slurs loudly and half the people around us jerk their heads around to see my very exposed bright red bra.
Blushing, I quickly shove my shirt back up and the guy ends up high fiving some over drunk guy right next him.
Instead of getting mad or angry, I think up the next rule on my checklist.
Rule #223: Drunk is not cool
.If a guy is an obnoxious drinker, run.
Nothing is worse then a guy who can’t hold his liquor.
I smile, proud that I thought of the rule right on the spot. Hell, I might even bump it up a few notches. That’ll show the drunken guy and his lame ass friend.
Madison looks at me apologetically, sorry that I had to deal with drunken idiots.
“Don’t worry,” I tell her at the same time wishing I had my drink back. “He got a rule.” She rolls her eyes but the beginning of a smile starts to tip her lips at the side.
No matter how much Madisons hates the list, she can’t help but appreciate it.
“You know what?!” She yells over the music someone decides to turn up even louder. “This party is stupid.”
I look behind her to see some girl trying to line dance and I grimace. “You can say that again. I mean, half these people aren’t even country. Whats with the music?”
Her eyes go to the girl I was just looking at she shudders. “I have no clue. But my poor eyes can’t take it anymore. Wanna go get something to eat?” I kick off the tree, excited by the idea of leaving this dump hole.
“Thank god! I thought this would be all night.” Madison walks over and throws her cup in the fire, making the flames extend.
A few girls around the fire give her weird looks, no doubt wondering who she was, but Madison ignores them.
I guess when you first look at Madison you can’t help but stare. She is the exact opposite of what a girl here would look like. With a few tattoos covering her arms and chest, a nose piercing, and a strip of red in her hair, she’s like part of a whole other species.
That’s why I love her so much.
I start ahead of her, knowing she will follow. Honestly the thirty minutes it took me to get ready for this party isn’t even worth the ten minutes I spent here. Plus, the boob curse came out to haunt me.
All in all, I call tonight a disaster.
Now I just want to go home, watch my show, and swoon over the hot guys in it. Anything to save me from this stupid party. So what if senior year started tomorrow? So what if Madison wanted it to be different? I was content enough to fly under the radar.
At least I’m warm there.
I’m halfway to the strip of dirt all the cars are parked at, the parties poor excuse of a parking lot, when a high pitch squeal followed by giggles pieces the silence. Starting, I almost lose my balance in the loose dirt.
Seriously?
Couldn’t they bring it to the woods?!
More girly giggles and a low, hush voice make me curious. Looking around, I notice I’m the only one over here. Since Madison was still making her way toward me, I decide to see who the hell it was making all the noise.
Putting my back against a huge black truck, I look over the tail end and what I see almost makes me trip all over again. Leaning against a small, red camaro is none other than Jace Stone. The Jace Stone.
Westside High’s own rebel without a cause.
I can tell it’s him from the black hair and spattering of tattoos running up and down his arms. I know all of his tattoos because I had to stare at them last year when they sat in front of me in trig.
He has one hand braced against the window of the camaro and the other wrapped around the girls waist in front of him. This wouldn’t be a problem if the girl was anyone but Brittany Piece.
The girl whose boyfriend is currently down at the party.
Brittany laughs again right before Jace cups her face and brings her in for a long kiss. And can I say wow?! The kiss is beyond anything two people just meeting would do. It’s all tongue, moaning, and ass grabbing.
Hell, it’s making me wish I was Brittany just watching it.
Swirling around, I press my back against the truck. What the hell is Jace Stone and Brittany Pierce doing together? No, better yet, why do they have their tongues shoved down each other's throats?!
Besides the obvious boyfriend problem, they were totally opposite. Brittany was the cliche cheerleader queen bee. Except, the ‘queen’ part.
She rose to her popularity by being prettier and smarter than half the people we go to school with. She wasn’t nasty, per say, but she wasn’t nice either.
Jace? All I know about him is that he liked to skip trig a lot. That, and he has a trail of broken-hearts in his wake. Sure, he was pretty nice to look at but sadly his attitude got in the way of that.
Seriously, my school was so full of cliches I’m surprised they haven't made a show about us yet.
The only cliche’ not happening at the moment is the fact that they are both kissing like they are running out of breath.
Peeking back around the truck, I notice that their kissing has escalated. On the ground, Jace’s shirt lays discarded along with Brittanys bra.
Luckily she still has her shirt on. My eyes look from the items on the ground and they land on Jace’s tan back. There, a huge tree tattoo blooms out.
Only, it’s only branches.
I don’t know why he has it or why it looks so lonely and sad, but it’s not like I’m going to ask. Brittany brings her nails to his muscled back and when she starts to leave marks I realize two things:
I need to get the hell out of here.
And Jace Stone might just be the guy I need.
Pushing away from the truck, I get halfway across the lot when Madison shows up. From the weird look she gives me I assume my smile is a little too big.
Reaching forward, I grab her arm and push her behind a piece of crap Honda civic.
“What the hell?!” She hisses at the same time she shoves my hand away. I bring a finger to my lips to quiet her. I look around to make sure no one is listening and when I know for sure no one is near us, do I tell her my plan.
It might be stupid.
It might be suicide.
It might be crazy.
But it just might be exactly what I have been waiting for.
“I’m going to blackmail Jace Stone.”