I'm watching him walk around. I can't see his face because I forgot my glasses, but I know it's him because I can see his green hat. What is it about that hat? The lady in the elevator had said it was hand made. Was it? Did he make it? I'm chewing on the inside of my lip as I regretfully walk away to my next class, the green hat the only thing on my mind as I'm listening to the teacher drone on and on about government and things I don't care about.
I can't help thinking about how he's in my next class. Suddenly I'm wondering if he thinks about me this way too. If he notices me wherever he goes, if he's always hyper aware of my presence. I hope so.
Now I'm in starbucks after school, trying to write more in the story I've already started sharing with these 25 people who've seen this blog, wondering if we'll ever be what I want us to be. Wondering if our kiss will ever happen. He said something to me last night, he said "My whole life is thunder." My whole life is thunder. My whole life is thunder. I'm laughing just thinking about him.
People always say things like "it isn't a crush if it hurts." Does that mean this isn't a crush? Because maybe it hurts a little bit, but honestly? I enjoy every minute of it. It hurts the first few seconds after he walks past me and pretends he doesn't know who I am (granted, sometimes I do the same), but then I think about him and his low, quiet voice his green hat, and I just smile. I just can't stop smiling.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Saturday, November 2, 2013
The Lemonade Stand (chapter one)
“Lee!”
Jamie Lee Andrews moaned and rolled over on her lumpy, frameless, messy mattress, her long, light-brown-almost-blonde hair fanned out on her pillow.
“It’s like 6:15! You’re going to be late! You have work, remember?”
Work? She thought hazily. I don’t want to go to work. Why do I have to go to work? Maybe I’ll just skip... It seemed like a good idea. She smiled and snuggled deeper into her comforter. A mixture of old people, cheap perfume, and dog, the smell of her comforter was something she had learned to love.
“JAMIE LEE IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR LAZY BUTT OUT OF BED RIGHT THIS INSTANT I’M GONNA TELL GRANDMA!” Tell Grandma... Lee thought slowly. GRANDMA! She shot straight up in her bed. Well, it wasn’t really a bed; it was just a mattress on the floor.
She bolted out of the room, tripped predictably on the almost identical but slightly more comfortable mattress lying next to it, swore as her permanently bruised knees and hip hit the floor, and limped the rest of the way into the small kitchen. She got there just as a 15 year old girl wearing a plaid mini skirt and white blouse opened her mouth to scream again.
Lee clamped her hand over the girl’s mouth. “Marissa! Are you freaking out of your mind?” The tall, muscular girl hissed at her younger sister. “You’re going to wake up Grandma and she’s going have a fit!”
“Yeah, at you!” The younger girl said smugly, “She loves me.”
Lee rolled her eyes, knowing it was true. She loved Grandma, but also knew that Grandma tended to favor Marissa because Marissa was the younger sibling and Grandma had been the younger sibling when she was a child. “Whatever. We have to leave in…” She checked the clock on the wall. “a half an hour. Are you ready?”
“Um, yeah, duh. I’ve been up for like an hour.” Issa eyed Lee’s sweatpants and XXL sweatshirt. “I think a more appropriate question would be are you ready.”
Lee waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Make some coffee, would you?” she asked, walking back towards their shared room and calling over her shoulder, “Also put some tights on. The uniform says you have to wear a skirt, it says nothing about having to dress like a stripper!”
Marissa blew a raspberry at Lee’s retreating back and Lee grinned.
She threw on her work uniform and tucked her hair into a black beanie leaving only the bangs hanging free, feeling too lazy to brush it today. Checking her appearance only once in the tall cracked mirror, she grabbed her wallet, keys, and phone, shoved them absentmindedly into the back pockets of her lose fitting black men’s jeans and wandered back into the kitchen, scratching her stomach. She knew she was missing something but she couldn’t remember what.
The coffee pot beeped and Lee forgot her worries as she poured some of the bitter, disgusting liquid that she couldn’t survive without into a big travel cup. “Marissa time to go!”
Marissa came bolting out of her room, wearing a new pair of tights that matched the red stripes on her skirt perfectly. “Ok, I’m
ready, lets go.”
“Metrocard?”
“Yep.”
“Homework?”
“Yep.”
“Helmets?”
“Yep.”
“Did your skirt somehow get shorter in the time you were gone?”
Marissa just rolled her eyes.
"Alright, let's go then."
The two girls ran out the door, down the stairs covered in cheesy red carpet, and out onto the street to Lee’s motorcycle, knowing they only had fifteen minutes until Marissa' s school started. Suddenly, Marissa stopped, their black helmets swinging from her hand. "Lee, the backpacks!"
Lee felt like screaming. Stumbling, she ran up the stairs as fast as she could, her long legs aiding her rushed ascent. Five flights later she arrived at apartment number 521. She jammed the key into the lock unceremoniously and burst inside, happy to find that her backpack, shabby and army green, and Issa’s light blue shoulder bag were there waiting for her next to the door. Throwing her backpack onto her back and trying her best to ignore the ominous ripping sounds coming from the right shoulder, she grabbed Marissa’s bag and dove back down the stairs, her feet barely touching the steps.
“Here.” Lee said and tossed her backpack at her little sister.
She ran to her bike and jumped on, Marissa sliding on easily behind her. “Helmet.” Marissa said firmly, shoving the helmet onto Lee’s head.
“You got yours on?”
“Yep.”
“Then we’re outta here. Hang on tight.”
Marissa wrapped her arms around Lee’s middle and squeezed. Lee knew that she hated this bike, but there was no other choice. A car was too expensive and she refused to let her 15 year old sister ride the subway by herself downtown in a big city. It was just too dangerous.
Lee felt Marissa tuck her skirt in between their bodies so it wouldn’t fly up and sighed. She didn’t approve of the student assigned dress code. She thought it was probably set in place by a bunch of horny teenaged boys who wanted to see girls in short skirts. The only brand that made the skirts was really expensive, and even though she only bought Issa enough for one week, it still cost Lee an entire month's paycheck. They had to be red, grey, and black plaid, be above the knees but below the fingertips, and their shirts had to match with one of the three colors perfectly. Wearing tights was allowed but discouraged, same with knee socks. But required it if Marissa wanted to wear the shorter skirts.
Lee supposed it was worth it, considering the kind of education Marissa got there. It was a very prestigious school. It only let you in if you were incredibly smart or incredibly wealthy. The tuition cost was $20,000. Marissa had always gotten straight A’s when she was in middle school, and two weeks before the end of the school year she had scored at a college level on a standardized test, so she got $8,000 in scholarship money, plus Marissa got the poor people benefit which was $5,000 and free lunches, but even so Lee worked three jobs just to keep the food on the table. Issa had often asked to get a job at a clothes store that she liked so Lee could quit one of hers, but Lee had denied her. Marissa already worked around the clock to get good grades, she didn’t need more stress on top of that.
Lee's motorcycle pulled to a careful stop in front of the large, metal prison-looking building that was Marissa's school. "Bye sweetie, have a good day." Lee said to Marissa as she slowly unwrapped her arms from Lee's stomach and climbed shakily off the bike. Lee held out her arms for a hug and Marissa complied, giving Lee’s cheek a chaste kiss before running off to meet her friends at the door.
Marissa watched the cheap black and green motorcycle as it speed away, ignoring the idl chatter of her friends, until she was distracted by a huge, strong-looking boy mexican boy walk up to her, wearing a stupid expression on his face. “Bonita,” He whined, “Was that your boyfriend Bonita? I’ll beat him up for you.”
Marissa groaned. “I told you not to talk to me anymore. And don’t call me that.”
“But is he your boyfriend Bonita?”
“It isn’t any of your business,” The miffed girl said, the gears in her head turning slowly, “But if you must know, yes. He’s my new boyfriend.” She eyed him with a little sneer on her face. “What are you even doing here? You don’t go to school here. Actually last time I checked you aren’t even in school anymore.”
“I came for you Bonita!”
“Great.” She said, annoyed. Marissa wasn’t feeling well, she didn’t need to have to deal with this idiot again.
From a couple blocks away, Lee wondered who that boy who had went up to Issa was, and tried to remember the taekwondo that Mic from Dominos had taught her.
Jamie Lee Andrews moaned and rolled over on her lumpy, frameless, messy mattress, her long, light-brown-almost-blonde hair fanned out on her pillow.
“It’s like 6:15! You’re going to be late! You have work, remember?”
Work? She thought hazily. I don’t want to go to work. Why do I have to go to work? Maybe I’ll just skip... It seemed like a good idea. She smiled and snuggled deeper into her comforter. A mixture of old people, cheap perfume, and dog, the smell of her comforter was something she had learned to love.
“JAMIE LEE IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR LAZY BUTT OUT OF BED RIGHT THIS INSTANT I’M GONNA TELL GRANDMA!” Tell Grandma... Lee thought slowly. GRANDMA! She shot straight up in her bed. Well, it wasn’t really a bed; it was just a mattress on the floor.
She bolted out of the room, tripped predictably on the almost identical but slightly more comfortable mattress lying next to it, swore as her permanently bruised knees and hip hit the floor, and limped the rest of the way into the small kitchen. She got there just as a 15 year old girl wearing a plaid mini skirt and white blouse opened her mouth to scream again.
Lee clamped her hand over the girl’s mouth. “Marissa! Are you freaking out of your mind?” The tall, muscular girl hissed at her younger sister. “You’re going to wake up Grandma and she’s going have a fit!”
“Yeah, at you!” The younger girl said smugly, “She loves me.”
Lee rolled her eyes, knowing it was true. She loved Grandma, but also knew that Grandma tended to favor Marissa because Marissa was the younger sibling and Grandma had been the younger sibling when she was a child. “Whatever. We have to leave in…” She checked the clock on the wall. “a half an hour. Are you ready?”
“Um, yeah, duh. I’ve been up for like an hour.” Issa eyed Lee’s sweatpants and XXL sweatshirt. “I think a more appropriate question would be are you ready.”
Lee waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Make some coffee, would you?” she asked, walking back towards their shared room and calling over her shoulder, “Also put some tights on. The uniform says you have to wear a skirt, it says nothing about having to dress like a stripper!”
Marissa blew a raspberry at Lee’s retreating back and Lee grinned.
She threw on her work uniform and tucked her hair into a black beanie leaving only the bangs hanging free, feeling too lazy to brush it today. Checking her appearance only once in the tall cracked mirror, she grabbed her wallet, keys, and phone, shoved them absentmindedly into the back pockets of her lose fitting black men’s jeans and wandered back into the kitchen, scratching her stomach. She knew she was missing something but she couldn’t remember what.
The coffee pot beeped and Lee forgot her worries as she poured some of the bitter, disgusting liquid that she couldn’t survive without into a big travel cup. “Marissa time to go!”
Marissa came bolting out of her room, wearing a new pair of tights that matched the red stripes on her skirt perfectly. “Ok, I’m
ready, lets go.”
“Metrocard?”
“Yep.”
“Homework?”
“Yep.”
“Helmets?”
“Yep.”
“Did your skirt somehow get shorter in the time you were gone?”
Marissa just rolled her eyes.
"Alright, let's go then."
The two girls ran out the door, down the stairs covered in cheesy red carpet, and out onto the street to Lee’s motorcycle, knowing they only had fifteen minutes until Marissa' s school started. Suddenly, Marissa stopped, their black helmets swinging from her hand. "Lee, the backpacks!"
Lee felt like screaming. Stumbling, she ran up the stairs as fast as she could, her long legs aiding her rushed ascent. Five flights later she arrived at apartment number 521. She jammed the key into the lock unceremoniously and burst inside, happy to find that her backpack, shabby and army green, and Issa’s light blue shoulder bag were there waiting for her next to the door. Throwing her backpack onto her back and trying her best to ignore the ominous ripping sounds coming from the right shoulder, she grabbed Marissa’s bag and dove back down the stairs, her feet barely touching the steps.
“Here.” Lee said and tossed her backpack at her little sister.
She ran to her bike and jumped on, Marissa sliding on easily behind her. “Helmet.” Marissa said firmly, shoving the helmet onto Lee’s head.
“You got yours on?”
“Yep.”
“Then we’re outta here. Hang on tight.”
Marissa wrapped her arms around Lee’s middle and squeezed. Lee knew that she hated this bike, but there was no other choice. A car was too expensive and she refused to let her 15 year old sister ride the subway by herself downtown in a big city. It was just too dangerous.
Lee felt Marissa tuck her skirt in between their bodies so it wouldn’t fly up and sighed. She didn’t approve of the student assigned dress code. She thought it was probably set in place by a bunch of horny teenaged boys who wanted to see girls in short skirts. The only brand that made the skirts was really expensive, and even though she only bought Issa enough for one week, it still cost Lee an entire month's paycheck. They had to be red, grey, and black plaid, be above the knees but below the fingertips, and their shirts had to match with one of the three colors perfectly. Wearing tights was allowed but discouraged, same with knee socks. But required it if Marissa wanted to wear the shorter skirts.
Lee supposed it was worth it, considering the kind of education Marissa got there. It was a very prestigious school. It only let you in if you were incredibly smart or incredibly wealthy. The tuition cost was $20,000. Marissa had always gotten straight A’s when she was in middle school, and two weeks before the end of the school year she had scored at a college level on a standardized test, so she got $8,000 in scholarship money, plus Marissa got the poor people benefit which was $5,000 and free lunches, but even so Lee worked three jobs just to keep the food on the table. Issa had often asked to get a job at a clothes store that she liked so Lee could quit one of hers, but Lee had denied her. Marissa already worked around the clock to get good grades, she didn’t need more stress on top of that.
Lee's motorcycle pulled to a careful stop in front of the large, metal prison-looking building that was Marissa's school. "Bye sweetie, have a good day." Lee said to Marissa as she slowly unwrapped her arms from Lee's stomach and climbed shakily off the bike. Lee held out her arms for a hug and Marissa complied, giving Lee’s cheek a chaste kiss before running off to meet her friends at the door.
Marissa watched the cheap black and green motorcycle as it speed away, ignoring the idl chatter of her friends, until she was distracted by a huge, strong-looking boy mexican boy walk up to her, wearing a stupid expression on his face. “Bonita,” He whined, “Was that your boyfriend Bonita? I’ll beat him up for you.”
Marissa groaned. “I told you not to talk to me anymore. And don’t call me that.”
“But is he your boyfriend Bonita?”
“It isn’t any of your business,” The miffed girl said, the gears in her head turning slowly, “But if you must know, yes. He’s my new boyfriend.” She eyed him with a little sneer on her face. “What are you even doing here? You don’t go to school here. Actually last time I checked you aren’t even in school anymore.”
“I came for you Bonita!”
“Great.” She said, annoyed. Marissa wasn’t feeling well, she didn’t need to have to deal with this idiot again.
From a couple blocks away, Lee wondered who that boy who had went up to Issa was, and tried to remember the taekwondo that Mic from Dominos had taught her.
This is me
Hey guys. My name is Hyperbole. I'm fourteen and live in Duluth, Minnesota. I can’t help it so don't make fun of my accent. I love writing, but I'm a bit nervous about putting my stuff out there. I would tell you my favorite colors and stuff but the list of those things is endless, so screw it. If you ever want to know anything about me I’ll most likely answer it if it's reasonable. Go to my questions page to find out how.
Mostly this blog will be stories I’m writing, but occasionally I might write about my life or vent on you guys. Sorry in advance for that.
If you would like to put your stuff on here too, I would be totally open to having co's. I would have to preview your stuff first, but my only rule is that you must be older than ten. But yeah if you wanna be a coauthor just email me and I'll more than likely fix you up. I don't care about the genre, it could even be fanfiction, as long as it's good. Also if you want to advertise for your blog on mine I might even let you do that if you're really nice to me a subscribe.
If you hate it, comment. If you like it, comment and maybepossiblysubscribeillbeyourbestfriendplease? Tell your friends about me either way, and please give feedback. It would make my day!
Mostly this blog will be stories I’m writing, but occasionally I might write about my life or vent on you guys. Sorry in advance for that.
If you would like to put your stuff on here too, I would be totally open to having co's. I would have to preview your stuff first, but my only rule is that you must be older than ten. But yeah if you wanna be a coauthor just email me and I'll more than likely fix you up. I don't care about the genre, it could even be fanfiction, as long as it's good. Also if you want to advertise for your blog on mine I might even let you do that if you're really nice to me a subscribe.
If you hate it, comment. If you like it, comment and maybepossiblysubscribeillbeyourbestfriendplease? Tell your friends about me either way, and please give feedback. It would make my day!
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