PLEASE READ THE BLURB IF YOU HAVE NOT ALREADY.
THIS IS THE OLD VERSION. I WILL NOT BE UPDATING ON THIS VERSION ANYMORE. THE NEW VERSION IS ON MY PROFILE. :)
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Chapter One: Mickey Who?
Song for this chapter: “Alice” by Avril Lavigne
Who knew that a cartoon mouse could change someone’s life so drastically?
As I entered the classroom, I noticed that the students were even more chatty than usual. It was only first period. This was the time of the day, where most people just tried to sleep through the agonizing fifty-five minutes. I located my bestfriend, Heather, who was talking to several girls and guys, forming a large circle in the middle of the room.
Heather noticed me and jerked her head towards her and the group, a gesture telling me to go over there. I sighed, setting my book down on my assigned seat, which happened to be in the middle row, first seat. My seat meant no sleeping for me.
As soon as I was within earshot to Heather, I said, “Why’re you guys so loud?”
“You mean you didn’t hear?” Heather inquired. Her hazel eyes seemed to widen with shock.
“Obviously not,” I murmured, not understanding her reaction.
The girl to the right of me, Lena, interceded with her own question. “Did you read Mickey’s blog last night?”
Realizing that this was about Mickey, my curious face dropped. I didn’t find Mickey interesting; in fact, I found it overrated, dumb, and stupid. Why would a person with a sane mind, want advice from an anonymous person? Glancing around, I realized that just about everyone in the school wasn’t “sane”.
“Nope,” I replied to Lena, popping the p as I said it.
“Seriously? What kind of person doesn’t read Mickey’s blog?” Lena shot me a look that suddenly made a sour feeling crawl into my stomach. I didn’t like that look.
I bit back a tempting remark. It was too early for fighting. Way too early. Instead, I mustered up a somewhat polite smile and said, “Why don’t you just tell me what it is then, Lena?”
Heather sent me a warning look, probably noticing the strain in my voice, but I just rolled my eyes in response. She was such a worrywart.
“Mickey’s quitting,” she finally answered, summing up the big fuss in two words.
“Really? Then Mickey’s blog is done, right?” I couldn’t stop the hopeful sound in my voice. Everyone in the group looked at me. Their facial expressions looked like I had just stomped on their foot or something.
“No,” Heather cut in, killing my wishful thinking. “Mickey’s going to be finding a replacement. And it’s going to be chosen by who Mickey thinks is eligible.”
“And is that why everyone’s so excited? Because they want to be the new ‘Mickey’?” I guessed.
“Yup, pretty much.”
“Well, that’s…interesting.” I frowned. I wanted to say stupid, but I managed to refrain from saying it.
The group then began to guess who was going to be the next Mickey, and I sure as heck was out of the candidacy. Wandering back to my seat, I took a gander around the class, somewhat annoyed with the fact that they all wanted to be Mickey. Just what was so great about becoming the next Mickey?
Just as I was about to rest my head on the desk, my vision was clouded with strawberry blonde hair.
“Hey,” I greeted Heather, as she leaned against my desk.
“Hey,” she smiled, showing off her pearly white teeth. “A lil cranky this morning?”
“No,” I defended myself. “Lena started it. Besides, you know how I feel about all that Mickey crap. It’s so stupid.”
I earned an eye roll from my bestfriend. “You are such a weirdo. Seriously, you’re like the only person I know who hates Mickey with a burning passion.”
“I don’t hate Mickey.”
“Sure, you keep saying that, Ana.”
“I swear, I don’t. I just don’t like Mickey.” I grimaced realizing they were practically the same thing.
“I bet that if you actually went to Mickey for help, you and Matthew would be a couple by now.” Heather winked, and my face turned bright red.
“S-shut up!” I harshly whispered at her, taking a peek three seats behind me, where a gorgeous brunette sat. Matt had stretched his long legs down the middle of the aisle, and was leaning back into his chair, listening patiently to the loud crowd around him. “What if he heard you?”
Heather smirked at me, while I glared at her. She knew that I had the biggest crush on Matthew Bayne since the beginning of high school, which was three years ago. Now, I’m a junior, and I still haven’t said more than five words to him. To him, I practically didn’t exist.
Heather opened her mouth to respond, but her voice was overshadowed by the bell. My teacher, who had been at his desk, pretending there was no Mickey, waited for the tone to end, so he could end the rest of the conversations, and start his lecture for the day.
~*~
Surprisingly, the rest of the day went pretty smoothly, aside from the dozen of times I overheard people talking about Mickey. Just from the sound of the name, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Why was it always Mickey this, Mickey that? I was so sick of the name Mickey. (Not that I had anything against the cute Disney character, Mickey Mouse.)
“Do you need a ride home?” I asked, Heather as we stepped out of English together.
“Yep, my car’s still in the shop,” she replied, frowning.
“Still? It’s been like a week and a half.”
“I know right.” She rolled her eyes melodramatically. “The mechanic is so not getting a tip.”
I laughed at Heather, and continued towards my locker. “Ah, I need to take my car for a wash first. My mom’s been bugging me non-stop about how filthy it is.”
Heather’s locker was only four down from mine, so we headed in the same direction. I stopped at my locker first, and Heather waited, patiently, as I stuffed my backpack with all the crap I needed tonight.
“Fine with me. And hey, I think you need a new backpack,” she stated, eyeing one of the broken straps.
I shrugged, indifferently. “Nah, there’s only about three months of school left anyway. It’ll hold out.”
“Ah, summer vacation, come sooner,” Heather wished aloud, closing her eyes like she was wishing upon a shooting star. And I nodded, completely agreeing with her.
“Warm weather, long days, short nights, and the beach. What more could I ask for?” I grinned, picturing my summer nights.
“Hot guys…duh,” Heather said, grinning.
“Of course. How could I forget?” I smirked lazily at my best friend.
Locking my locker, I walked towards Heather’s. While my locker was pretty much plain, except for one or two pictures of us, Heather’s was decorated with about a hundred different pictures and drawings all given to her by various friends. I always had fun looking at the goofy ones.
“Alright, I’m set,” she told me, closing her dull blue locker. “Let’s go.”
I nodded, and we both headed for the exit. Heather pushed open one of the double-doors that led to the parking lot. The bright light caught me by surprise, and for a moment, I couldn’t see.
Due to my lack of vision, I accidently bumped into something…or someone. “Oh crap, sor—“ I stopped midway when I noticed that I ran into Matthew. My cheeks flooded a deep rosy red color, and I turned my eyes toward my worn, black converse shoes. They were old, and torn, but I just didn’t want to part with them, even though I had about a dozen other pairs of decent shoes.
“It’s my fault,” Matthew said, and just from the sound of his voice, I could feel my knees weaken. “Sorry Ana.”
He said my name! Even better, he knows my name!
Even though I was just about dying in the inside, outside I just moved my head up and down, without lifting my eyes. Heather bumped my hip with hers, and I could picture her rolling her eyes at me. “Sorry, Matt, Ana’s mouth is glued at the moment.”
Another wave of embarrassment flooded my cheeks, and I gave a small glare at Heather, to which she returned with a cheeky grin. I then glanced back at Matt, keeping my eyes away from his. Instead, my eyes skimmed his angular jaw. I wanted to say something cute or funny, but I really just wanted to say something!
“I—uh—Sorry!” I blurted in a wave of panic. Without waiting for him to react, I pushed passed him, and then I practically sprinted back to my car. Well…at least I said something. I thought wryly to myself.
“What the hell was that?” Heather said, catching up to me. She gave me a look like I was loony. And I actually might be.
“What do you mean? I thought I handled that quite well,” I lied. I handled that terribly.
She snorted, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. “Sure, if you were trying to look like an idiot.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me,” she teased.
“Fine, then you can walk home.” I grinned. Her house was only about fifteen minutes away, which was equivalent to about an hour walk, but knowing Heather It’d take her the entire night.
She gasped, sending me a look. “You wouldn’t.”
I could feel a grin creeping over my lips. “Oh, I so would.”
“Touché,” she smirked. “But seriously, Ana, you had a perfect chance to talk to him, and what do you do?” Without waiting for an answer she continued by saying, “You clam up. And you never clam up. I should know.”
Locating my piece of junk car, I made my way over to it. “It’s not my fault! He’s just so damn cute.”
“So what?! I swear, you’re never going to get a boyfriend if you don’t talk to the guys you like,” she lectured me, and I heaved a heavy sigh.
“I know,” I mumbled, unlocking my door. “But not all of us have your charming attitude.”
“Do I sense sarcasm?” Heather raised a brow at me, a noticeable frown covering her mouth.
Ignoring her comment, I scooted into my car. For a moment, my ears were drowned out by sound of dry, old leather squeaking under my weight. And then it was silent…well it was until Heather rapped on the passenger window.
“Hello! I’m still out here, in this blazing sun. Probably getting sunburned as I speak,” she announced loudly.
After resisting the urge to roll my eyes at her, again, I leaned over and pulled the lock thingy up, letting her in. As she entered the car, I said, “Good. You kinda need a tan anyway. You pretty much glow in the dark.”
“Ha ha, that was so funny, I forgot to laugh,” she said sarcastically.
“You did laugh.” I pointed out, turning on the ignition as I responded.
Heather ignored my snide remark, and rolled down her window. “Hey, where do you get your car washed at?” she suddenly questioned.
“Err…” I paused to think of the name. “I think it’s called Bob’s Car Wash. Or was it Charlie’s Car Wash? Crap…well it’s next to the Taco Bell. Do you know that one?”
“Yeah, and it’s Charles’ Car Wash.”
“Oh, I knew that,” I mumbled, pulling out of my parking space. “What about it?”
“I heard there’s this really hot guy that works there, and he dries off the cars! You know what that means, right?”
“…Our car isn’t going to be wet?”
Heather pressed her lips into a thin line, clearly disappointed by my response. “No, you dumb, dumb. It means we’re most likely going to see him topless!”
“Ohhhh,” I responded, turning right at the exit of our school. “Does he go to school here?”
“I don’t think so.” She pursed her lips. “I think he graduated last year.”
“And you know so much about him why?” I inquired, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. We were nearing Charles’ Car Wash, and I could tell she was overly excited.
“My friend, Dani, has an older brother that’s friends with him.”
“Mhmm, that’s not stalkerish at all.”
“What?” she said, sending me a flat look. “Like you don’t stalk Matt.”
“I do not,” I replied coolly. “I just happen to be where he is.”
“You keep tellin’ yourself that, honey,” Heather replied, poorly imitating a southern accent.
“I will.” I sniffed, turning on my right blinker.
When I turned into the lot, I was surprised to see that the small car wash place was crowded. Since today was Thursday, I didn’t think that this place would be so packed. At least five or six cars lined up in a single straight line, and I joined in the back.
One of the workers— an older man that appeared to be in his mid to late forties— noticed as I entered the lot. He wore a faded grey janitor –like outfit and a matching cap rested atop his nearly bald head. He approached my vehicle, just as I rolled the window down.
“Welcome to Charles’ Car Wash,” he greeted in a tired, gruff voice. “What would you like today?”
“Umm, I’ll just take the standard wash,” I answered him, stretching the corners of my mouth into a small, polite smile.
He nodded once, as he scribbled into the small pad of paper in his hand. A moment later, he ripped the tiny slip out and handed it to me. “The wait’ll be about thirty to forty minutes, miss.”
“Okay,” I said, putting my car in park, before leaving my vehicle. And Heather followed my actions.
I watched for a second or two before another one of the workers occupied my spot in the driver’s seat.
“Thirty or forty minutes,” Heather suddenly said, causing me to shift my attention towards her.
“Yep.”
“Isn’t that a long time just for a standard car wash?”
“I guess, but it’s not like there’s another place nearby that I can wash my car at.”
“True.” She frowned, “but now I’m gonna be bored.”
“Stop whining. We can watch as they wash the cars inside,” I told her, a grin returning to my face. “I used to love watching them wash the cars, when I was little.” Well actually, I loved the machines that squirted the colorful soap onto the cars.
“Me too. Hey, I gotta go potty. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she stated, as we entered the small building.
“Okay, I’ll wait for you by the window viewing area.”
“Will do,” she said, making a right turn, towards the bathrooms, while I continued straight forward.
The hallway was scattered with people. A few younger kids ran up and down the dark blue halls, while the older ones watched the cars enter the washing area. The parents and others sat quietly, watching the children playing.
I was about to sit on one of the empty seats, when someone tapped against my shoulder. Turning around, I half expected to see Heather, but instead a woman with long, dark blonde curls entered my vision.
“Err, hi?” I greeted questionably. I didn’t know this person, and I didn’t know why she tapped my shoulder.
“Hi, I think you dropped this,” she told me, handing me something.
“Thanks,” I automatically said, not even looking down at what she gave me. It was just one of my natural instincts to say a thank you when someone handed me something.
She smiled, politely. “You’re welcome,” she said, before walking away.
Only then did I realize that she gave me something. Looking down into my hands, I realized that it was a square shaped envelope.
“Oh, wait, this isn’t…” I trailed off, noticing that she was no longer there.
I frowned at the envelope. This isn’t mine. What am I supposed to do with it?
I turned the envelope over, on its back, debating whether I should open it or not. And then something caught my eye, and then it felt like my heart stopped.
On the back of the envelope was a small, black sticker. It sealed the envelope closed, but the color of the sticker wasn’t what made my heart stop. It was the shape of the sticker.
It was the shape of Mickey Mouse’s head.