Tip 3: Don't Serenade The Dork
"But he asked you out!" exclaimed Val.
"I know."
"And you said no."
"I know that too."
"And he was like 'but-but-but-'"
"I was there. I realised that too."
"But why?"
"That, I don't know."
I was sprawled out on my bed, staring at the stark white ceiling. It had been a week since Brett had asked me out in the cafeteria, and from then he had stalked me like a creep. He'd asked me so many times, I'd lost count. "I have thought about it over and over, but nothing comes to mind. I have to admit, I'm actually stumped."
Val put her hand to her mouth in mock horror. "The great Einsteinette, stumped? The world is definitely coming to an end."
I rolled over, and buried my face in my pillow.
"I'm so confused right now."
"Well, that's got to be a first."
"Not helping."
"Sorry, sorry." She moved closer and rubbed my back. "Look at us, two so-called geniuses stuck on a guy."
"Ew." I scrunched up my nose, even though I knew she couldn't see me. "That sounded so wrong."
She smacked me with my other pillow. "You know what I meant."
Mom called out then, "Dinner's ready."
Val and I ran downstairs.
"What's for dinner?" I asked.
"If you actually came down to help with the cooking, you'd know," my mother retorted.
I stared at her, then raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"You know what? Forget I ever said that. Never enter my kitchen."
"Thank you."
"Why shouldn't she help out?" asked Val, confused.
"Three years ago, when we had just moved here, I asked her to boil an egg, whilst I went out," said Mom. "When I came back, the sink was overflowing, the smoke alarm was going haywire and this girl was asleep. The egg was also burnt."
"How do even do that?" asked Val, staring at me. "I mean, seriously burn an egg?"
"Shut up," I muttered.
"And that's why, even though she's almost seventeen-" Here my mother shot me a glare "-she can't even boil water. And why I do all the cooking around here."
"You do it 'cause you love us, Mom."
She rolled her brown eyes, which I had inherited.
"Just get out of my kitchen. By the way, we're having spaghetti for dinner."
"Love you, Mom!" I called out as we left, blowing her a kiss.
"Oh, quiet you!" she responded, laughing. "And go get your sister."
"So Einsteinette can't boil an egg, hmm?" smirked Val.
"Nobody's perfect," I mumbled.
"But honestly speaking, how do you burn a boiled egg?" She clutched her stomach as she laughed.
"It's not funny anymore, Val. And I was only thirteen."
"It will never not be funny. Wait till I tell Oliver!"
"We will never speak of this again."
We entered the living room, where my little sister was watching TV.
"Hey Mini-me," I said, ruffling her brown hair.
"Stop it!" she groaned, batting my hand away. "I'm not three anymore."
"Oh little sister, you shall always be three in my eyes."
She glared at me.
"You do know it's dinner right?" I asked.
"Yeah, so?"
"So you're supposed to be at the table right now."
"How come you're not there?" she shot back.
"I'm sixteen, you're twelve. Now get." I grabbed the remote, and changed the channel.
"Hey, no fair!" She jumped, trying to get the remote, which I dangled far out of her reach.
"Nope. Time for dinner. Shoo!"
"I hate you," she grumbled, as she left. See the resemblance?
"Love you too, sweetie!"
"Why are you always so mean to Mikayla?" asked Val.
"Mean to who, Mini-me? I don't know, it's just the way we've always been."
My parents named my little sister Mikayla as a play on the name 'Mini Kayla', because she looked just like me when she was born. Same silky brown hair, same chocolate brown eyes; we even weighed almost the same.
"I wish I had siblings," said Val, sitting on the sofa.
"What am I? Rotten eggs?"
"You know I love you Kay, but it's just not the same. I want a real, blood related sister or brother."
A tear trickled down her cheek, and I went up to her, sat by her and hugged her.
"My family is your family, Val," I whispered. "You know we love you. And God loves you more than anyone else. He knows the plans He has for you, even if you are an only child. Don't forget Romans 8:29 and 30."
She roughly brushed the tears away. "I know," she muttered. "And I love you guys too."
I got up, and pulled her up with me. "Now come on. That spaghetti ain't gonna eat itself."
She grinned. "Especially if you burn it."
She was lucky I was such a good friend, and I let that one go.
~|~|~
It was eleven o'clock, four hours after supper. Val had left, saying her grandmother needed her home. I was lying on my bed, unable to sleep although it was a school night.
"Urgh!" I groaned, throwing the duvet off and getting out of bed. As my feet touched the cold ground, I shivered. Winter was drawing nigh. Just then, I heard something hit my window. I froze in fear, inching closer and closer to the window. Cautiously, I opened it and looked out, only to get hit right on the forehead with a pebble.
"What the-" A voice cut me off.
"Kayla? Is that you?"
"Brett?" I hissed. "What the Nerds are you doing here? And at this time of the night? How did you even now that this was my room? Are you crazy?"
"Only crazy for you, babe. And to answer your other question, it was a lucky guess." From the little I could see of his smug smile, I had a feeling that those words were accompanied by a wink. I just couldn't see his eyes in order to confirm my theory.
"Shut up," I said shortly. "And go away.
Shutting the window, I moved back to my bed, only to be disturbed by the rattle of pebbles hitting my window again. My eye twitched in frustration, and my nostrils flared in anger.
"What do you want?" I asked. "People are asleep!"
"I just wanted to say hi."
I gave him a flat stare. "At midnight?"
"It's actually only eleven..." He trailed off as I narrowed my eyes at him. "Never mind."
"Why won't you just leave me alone?" I groaned.
"You fascinate me."
"You disgust me."
"My heart beats for you."
"My heart died after looking at you."
"You complete me."
"You completely infuriate me."
I rolled my eyes and made to slam my window shut when he shouted. "Wait!"
"What now? My patience is running thin!"
"I-I-I-"
"What? What on Earth could you possibly want that would bring you here at midnight?" I had lost the shred of patience I had left, and I was yelling.
"Sheesh, Kay, people are asleep! Don't yell."
I saw red. "I just said th-you know what, never mind. Go away."
Ignoring his yells of protest, I slammed my window shut and stomped back to bed. Five minutes later, I heard someone singing,
Je t'adore
Mon amour
Mon coeur est pour toi...
Ma chérie
Je t'aime de tous mon coeur
I groaned, and flung the window open, looking down at Brett who stood next to a boombox, and was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" I said, sure that this was some projection of my sleep-deprived brain.
"For a genius, you sure are dumb," he commented. "Duh. I'm serenading you."
"Sarcasm really won't help your case. You're supposed to be romantic," I said. "Not that you'd get anywhere even if you were."
"I'm willing to try my luck." He shrugged. "So will you go out with me?"
"What? No!"
"Please?"
"No."
"I'm on my knees now."
"Don't care, still no." I paused. "Why do you want to go out with me, anyway?" ¨
"Like I said, you fascinate me."
"In that case, like I said, you disgust me-and pretty much everyone else in a fifty foot radius."
"Just one eensy weensy date?"
"If I say yes, will you go away?"
He nodded eagerly.
"Then my answer is..." He looked up with hope on his features. "...still no," I concluded flatly.
"Juliet, if thou were-"
"You're quoting Shakespeare now? Man, you really are desperate aren't you?"
"Just go out with me. Please?"
"How many times do I have to say no?"
"I'll wear you out eventually."
"I'll-wait, why am I even arguing with you? There is a window for a reason."
With that, I slammed the window closed, and drew the curtains too. Going back to bed for what was hopefully the last time that night, I cocooned myself in the duvet. Thirty minutes later, just as I was finally drifting off, I heard a knock at my window. I groaned as I woke up, burying my face in my pillow.
"Stop throwing pebbles," I mumbled. My patience completely obliterated, I picked up one of the heeled murder weapons I was now grateful that Val had forced me to buy and marched determinedly to the window, target in mind.
When I pushed back the curtains, I screamed as I set my eyes on the face squished against my window.
The face screamed, and promptly detached itself. Looking down, I saw Brett lying in the bushes on the lawn, with a ladder by him that he had stolen from the garden shed. He wasn't moving.
"Brett! Are you okay? Oh Lord, please let him be okay! I don't want a dead body on my lawn!"
Pulling on my dressing gown over my Hello Kitty pyjamas, and slipping into my flip flops, I rushed down the stairs, tiptoeing when I passed Mikayla's room. The girl had ears like a bat.
When I got to the garden, Brett was still lying motionless on the shrubs.
"Brett, I'm going to call 911, okay?" I mumbled, even though I was sure he couldn't hear me. "But how on earth am I going to explain...this?"
He opened one eye. "You know I'm okay, right?"
I screamed, and he covered my mouth with a large, callused palm.
"Honestly, do you want to wake the whole neighbourhood?" I slapped his hand away.
"What is wrong with you? I was worried sick!"
"Aw, you were worried about little old me?" he cooed, pinching my cheeks.
"If you don't remove your grimy hands from my face right now, I will bite you."
He did as I asked.
"Steve was right, you really are feisty."
Then his gaze raked shamelessly over my pyjama-clad body. I tightened my dressing gown's belt.
"Keep your dirty eyes to yourself, you disgusting boy!"
"Why should I? I like the view from here." He wolf-whistled appreciatively, and I stomped on his foot. Hard.
"Ouch!" he yelped, clutching his injured foot.
"Wow," I said sarcastically. "For a footballer, you're pretty weak. But then again, you're dumb too, so you're enough of a stereotypical footballer."
His glare was fierce enough to burn through a person's soul. I just wasn't that person.
"You know, for someone who's supposed to be serenading me, you're pretty hostile," I mused.
"Shut up," he said.
"Hostile," I repeated, in a sing-songy voice.
"Please let's just go on one date?"
I turned and plodded back inside. "No."
"Please," he said.
"Still no."
"Urgh, you're so frustrating!"
"Says the guy who wants to go on a date with me. Bipolar much?" Frowning I said, "Why do you want to go on a date with me anyway?"
His cheeks reddened, and he pushed a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "Listen, you seem like a nice girl. And you're actually the first girl I've met who hasn't swooned in my presence, 'cause you know, I'm pretty awesome-" Here he dusted off his shoulders, and I rolled my eyes "-and so I know if you'll ever like me, it'll be because of my personality, not my looks, or popularity, or money."
"That is so sweet," I said, putting a hand to my heart. "I guess since you asked so nicely..."
I tapped my chin, and his eyes widened in hope.
"Still going to have to go with no." I stepped into the doorway, noticing something lurking in the shadows. I grinned, "I wish you all the best."
"With what?"
"With the cat?"
"The cat?"
I left the door open a crack. "Yep. Look behind you."
He turned, and if I could have seen his face, I would have realised that it had lost all colour. He gulped.
"W-whose cat is this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Who knew the big, bad quarterback was afraid of cats?
"Oh, so now you decide to turn down the volume? This is Dusty, the stray that sometimes comes around the neighbourhood. Everyone loves her, so we all leave some scraps in the garden for her. Scraps which you are currently covered with."
It was then that he put a hand to his back, which was covered with canned tuna. He'd landed on Dusty's paper plate after his fall, and I hadn't noticed until then.
He stepped back again, and Dusty followed, her green eyes glinting dangerously in the moonlight. Her claws were out, and they made no sound on the soft grass as she prowled towards Brett.
Fear was written all over his face, as he stepped back, tripping over an object. I watched in amusement. Dusty wouldn't actually hurt him. She was just playing with him, but he didn't know that. I knew her like the back of my hand. She was my cat after all.
"Stay back!" he hissed, brandishing the garden hose he had tripped on. This was too funny.
If cats could laugh, Dusty would be guffawing by now. Instead, she took slow, steady steps towards her prey. Brett stretched towards the tap, never once taking his eyes off the cat. He turned it on, dousing Dusty with ice cold water.
Silly boy. Now he'd done. She hissed, and pounced. If there was one thing she hated, it was getting wet. I had a scar on my foot to prove that. Brett screamed in a manner that was eerily similar to my little sister's. He backed into a corner, scrambled up, and ran to the gate. Really, it was a wonder no one had woken up yet.
Unfortunately for him, Dusty got there first. Hissing and scratching, she brought him down like David did Goliath. I winced as he screamed, "Not the face! Not the face!"
I considered helping him, but selfish as I was, I didn't want to fall into the path of Dusty's wrath. After a few more minutes of biting and scratching, she sat down, licking her fur and purring contentedly, looking no worse for the wear.
Brett on the other hand, looked terrible. His clothes were tattered, and barely salvageable.
"Stupid cat!" he spat. The 'stupid cat' narrowed her eyes, and stood. He turned and ran out, stopping only to pick his boom box.
"Well done, Dusty," I said, folding my arms, and leaning against the doorpost.
"Meow," she purred, and I could have sworn I saw her smile.
I'm back again, with another update. Just finished Emergency Princess, my second baby, and I'm near tears, but at least now I get more time for this story!