Spoilers! There is lots of Doctor Who talk in this chapter, and if you are just starting to watch the show there is serious spoilers. Sorry about that.
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When our parents got home they would found us in the main room of my house, arguing over popcorn.
“Just put it in the middle!” I said.
“No, it needs to be on my lap!” he retorted.
“Why? It’s popcorn! We can both reach it better if it’s in the middle!”
“But the blanket will cover it and get threads in the buttery goodness!”
“We can set it on top of the blanket, it will be fine,” I sighed.
“But it’s not the same as having it on someone’s lap,” Breton argued.
“Ugh! Fine, it will go on my lap then!” I cried, scooting closer to him and grabbing the bowl from him. “Now shut up and watch the stupid movie.”
Breton said nothing, but sat with his arms crossed, bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
“Kids!” my mom giggled. “We’ll be over at the Joel’s until later, okay? It’s a weekend, so you can stay up as late as you want. Breton, there are spare pillows in the closet if you’re going to spend the night.”
“What the heck mother?” I asked.
“Behave you two!” my mom said, blowing me a kiss and following the Joel’s out the door.
“My mom has issues. She’s crazy. That was not the normal her. I think she got food poisoning from the Chinese,” I rationalized. Even though that wasn’t a very rational expression.
“Shh!” Breton shoved a handful of popcorn in my mouth, effectively shutting me up as the opening credits rolled.
“Aww, the two of them are just - hic - adorable,” someone said.
“Should - hic - we wake them up?” another voice asked.
“Let’s take pictures, so we can cherish these memories of when they were young,” a third person suggested. At least there was one person without hiccups. “Hic.” I take it back.
“Shh, Georgie’s waking up,” the first one said. The room went silent after that, and I slowly drifted back to dreamland.
“Stop moving,” I groaned the next morning when my bed started slowly shifting. “Stop!” I repeated. For a minute, everything was still, and then I was being flipped upside down and became stuck that way. “MOM!” I shrieked. “My bed’s attacking me!”
“Calm down,” a deep voice rumbled. “It’s me.”
“I didn’t know you could talk, Bed,” I said.
“I’m not your bed Georgie,” my bed said.
“Well who else could you be? There is no way someone is in my bedroom,” I explained stupidly, trying to rub sleepy fog from my eyes. As soon as I did, I immediately regretted it.
“AH! I’m staring at a butt!” I cried. Whoever it was that was holding me released their grip slightly and I started sliding down their back, screaming as loud as I could. Luckily, they caught me.
“Are you always this crazy in the morning?” the aforementioned strange person asked.
“No. This is pretty good for me after I’ve woken up,” I said defensively. “Where’s my mom?”
“Passed out in her room. She has a giant hangover, so you should stop screaming.”
“She got DRUNK?” I yelled.
“Georgie, I just said you should stop yelling,” the person explained. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Lucky Charms,” I replied immediately. “Who are you?”
“Breton Joel,” Breton replied. Well duh Georgie! Don’t you remember last night?
George, that sounded bad, so in case you’re thinking the worst, let me explain. Last night Breton and I had a Harry Potter marathon, trying to watch all eight movies. We were about to start the third when we were tired, so we moved up into my room where I had a bigger TV, and we watched as much of the rest as we could. I think we were halfway through the fourth movie when I fell asleep, and exhaustion probably overcame Breton not long after. We were up until like 2am, so really it’s no surprise we fell asleep. I’m really surprised though. Breton’s a closet Harry Potter nerd. I wonder if he likes Doctor Who! George, I need to do some sleuthing.
I stopped mentally composing my journal entry to subtly find out if Breton was a Whovian.
“Do you like Doctor Who?” Just like I said, subtle.
“You mean the person, or the show?”
“Um.. both, I guess.”
“Yes, I like the show. But if you’re asking me if I like him, well his name is The Doctor. Not Doctor Who.”
“Oh my gosh, marry me? And also, according to the last episode of season seven, his name is please, which is actually not his name, but that was so sad and emotional, it’s just GAH!”
“Tell me about it! I thought for sure we would find out what it was. And then with Clara and River, the whole episode was just intense. Where do you keep the Lucky Charms?” Breton said, setting me down on a stool at the island in our kitchen.
“Top left cupboard. Who’s your favorite companion?” I questioned, preparing myself for a debate.
“Oh definitely Donna. I liked how she wasn’t interested in him romantically, and didn’t just simper about how he was amazing. She argued with him and questioned him and was a best friend to him,” Breton explained.
“EXACTLY!” I cried, nearly falling off the stool. “Donna Noble, for one shining moment, the most important woman in the whole wide universe. She definitely deserved to be able to remember her time with The Doctor. Without those memories, she went back to being the Donna before she met the Doctor, the one who thought she was nothing special. Poor Donna. I also really like Rose. Nine and Rose were in love, Ten and Rose were adorable and amazing, and it was so sad how it ended! Not that Ten point five isn’t great and I love that they both have someone, but I feel so bad for Ten after that. And before he regenerates she’s the last thing he sees, even though she doesn’t know who he is at that time. Talk about playing with your emotions.
Martha’s cool too, but I don’t like how obsessed she was with The Doctor. Too soon after Rose for me to like his next companion having romantic interest in him I guess. She kicked butt, although like I said, too obsessed with The Doctor.
Amy and Rory are AWESOME. So is Clara, and River is irreplaceable. But honestly, Donna and Rose are my favorite. I don’t think they’ll ever be replaced in my mind,” I ranted on. Breton was staring at me with wide eyes.
“What? Did I freak you out? Sorry, it’s an automatic thing, I never get to talk Doctor Who with anyone, so I kind of spill everything when I find someone who will listen,” I apologized.
“It’s just that I’m pretty much the same way. I mean, I don’t like Rose as much and Rory is super awesome. Not to mention River is hot,” Breton laughed as I gave him a disgusted look, “But we really think the same about this. I’ve never ever told anyone I like watching Doctor Who though, so you better not tell anyone at school.”
“Cross my hearts,” I said with a laugh.
Over a filling breakfast of Lucky Charms we discussed basically everything we liked and disliked about Doctor Who. The aliens, the villains who are simply bad people, the unexpected plot twists that we loved, the tear-jerking emotional moments that made us cry. Of course, like any other macho-man/bad boy Breton wouldn’t admit to crying, but how could anyone possibly resist crying when Ten regenerated? Saddest moment ever. We had just finished talking about The Master and whether or not he was freaky, (he totally is!), when Breton’s cell phone rang.
“Hello?” he answered. He nodded his head towards the other room and I waved him away, pouring myself more cereal. When he got back he said, “I have to go, my parents are up.”
“What time is it anyway?” I asked. I didn’t bother checking the clock, it had stopped years ago.
“Two in the afternoon. We didn’t wake up until noon,” he said. “We’ve been talking for a while.”
“Yeah,” I laughed, “No wonder I’m so hungry.”
“Bye Georgie,” Breton called as he walked out the front door.
“See ya later alligator!” I replied. With a click, the door closed and the house was silent.
Sneaking out was not my strong suit, but I didn’t want to be in the house when my mom woke up, so I grabbed a bag, George, my favorite sparkly gel pens, and tried to slip out the house quietly. Unfortunately, I banged my head on the door frame and I turned to lock it behind me, and then fell down the stairs of the porch.
“You know, this happens so often, I’m completely used to it by now. Not even fazed, it didn’t hurt, nothing,” I mused aloud as I began to walk. I didn’t have a specific destination in mind, but when I was younger I had a tree house in the woods near the park. I thought I would go see if it was still there, it would be the perfect place to write.
Thankfully, the house was still there. “It’s a little more run-down than I remember. Jeez, I haven’t been here since freshman year, and I didn’t even come inside except for a few minutes to clear out cobwebs.” Pulling out my journal, I sat down in the cramped space, just big enough for two.
So George, it turns out Breton does watch Doctor Who. He’s a closet Whovian! He has most of the same opinions as me, but we had some arguments, which was refreshing. Who knew the bad boy would be such a nerd? Wait a minute, never mind I probably could have guessed. It’s a cliche story line in the making.
Onto newer news. Operation 45D is going very well! Day 6 and already Step Two has been completed! I’ve done research and established a connection! We’re maybe even friends, but I’m not sure. He seems like a friend. And he’s nice to me, so he’s not an enemy. I would maybe label him as an acquaintance, but we’ve talked about The Doctor, so he’s more than just someone I know. I’m actually excited for school Monday. The only homework I have this weekend is mine, I have at least three friends, and I don’t sit by myself at lunch anymore! I love school!
Wow George, that’s not something I ever thought I’d say. It’s late, I think it’s nearly three. Mom should be awake by now, I hope she’s not grouchy. She usually is if I’m loud in the morning. Anyone would be grouchy being woken up by Hurricane Georgie, she says. Maybe I’ll cook dinner tonight. I make superb meatloaf.
I ended the sentence with a neat period and gathered up my things. As I trudged home, I thought about Operation 45D. Maybe I actually had a chance at doing this thing. Just maybe, it was a possibility.
I’ve always liked Sundays. They seemed so peaceful in comparison to the rest of the week. Until I had to wake up and get out of bed.
I started the lovely day by falling off the mattress onto the floor. Then I bumped my head on the bathroom sink as I was getting dressed. Making breakfast, I nearly set the house on fire. During mass, I sneezed so loud, the choir started to evacuate the loft in case there was another “bomb” in the church. I bit my tongue three times eating lunch, and then chipped one of my teeth. Between lunch and dinner, I holed up in my bedroom surrounded by blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. While eating dinner, I spilled my glass of milk on the table and accidentally cut my finger trying to slice the bread. After my mom had thrown away the ruined bread and I bandaged my finger, she sent me back up to my room and brought up a TV tray complete with a paper cup of milk, plastic silverware, and small portions.
“Thanks mom,” I smiled sheepishly. She sighed heavily and went back downstairs to finish her meal and clean away the leftover food.
Pulling my laptop off the side table, I cringed as my alarm clock fell to the floor. I could only imagine going to school tomorrow. The conversation would go something like this..
‘Hey Georgie, how was your weekend?’ someone would ask.
‘Oh you know, I destroyed practically everything in my house and injured myself at least ten times. How was your weekend?’ I’d reply. They would just back away slowly in horror, occasionally shaking their head. If I stepped near they would begin to scream, ‘Get back! Get back! Stay away!’ Yeah, that’d go over well.
I opened my laptop and made sure I had all my assignments done, then clicked the button that would send them to the printer downstairs and print them. I’d grab them off the printer tomorrow morning and they’d be ready to hand in after a few staples here and there. Once my homework was taken care of, I started to browse the Web.
I checked anything new on my Pinterest and pinned a few things before exciting and going to tumblr. I didn’t even upload anything onto tumblr, but I used it to look at all the other things. After that, I checked up on my favorite author’s Twitter page.
Hmm, maybe I should make a Twitter. Then I’d be able to get notifications whenever he tweeted something, I thought. A few clicks and I was signed up.
I thought my Twitter handle was pretty good: @GeorgiesStories. Now I just had to figure out how to use Twitter....
Hours later I was obsessed.
“Georgie, put the laptop away and go to sleep. You have school tomorrow!” my mom scolded when she came to check on me. Reluctantly, I closed my Twitter feed and handed the laptop to my mom. “Goodnight sweetheart, get some sleep,” she said, kissing my forehead as I snuggled down in my blankets.
“Night mum,” I replied sleepily. When I heard the door close, I sat upright and pulled my journal out from under my pillow.
George, Operation 45D needs some fine tuning. Steps One and Two are complete, but I can’t just ask him if he needs saving, can I? I’d look like a lunatic. Correction: I’d look like more of a lunatic.
But Mr. Joel needs my help. He needs me to save Breton. I’ve already talked to the guy twice, and he has one of those faces. You know, he has the type of face that always looks sad and you never want to give those people bad news because you feel as if their life is bad already. That’s the type of face he has. So I have to do this, I can’t let his big, sad face down!
Tomorrow I’ll start my new Step Three. Defend and Protect the Subject.
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Dun dun duuuuuunnnn.
Two things! First of all, Georgie's Twitter is made up! Yeah, I'm still not allowed to get a Twitter, for me or my story characters. :(
Second! I'll be trying to update more often! After all, November is coming to a close but I still have LOTS more to write. (I'm so far behind NaNoWriMo, it's just sad.)
So... thank you all very much for reading and please VOTE, COMMENT, FAN, and make me cookies!
~KAYLA