The Ultimate Teenage Romance Novel, Prologue
By HiArianne
- 1088 reads
I was only 8 when I learned how to read, 5 when I learned to write both in print and cursive, and 7 when I learned how to convert with cross multiplication and find ratios by division and turning fractions into decimals.
At 12 I found myself in the smoke scene, 13 in the drinking scene, and since 14, I'm all up for the sex scene.
God, I'm a total fuck-up.
Weed's not my thing, binging's occasional, but I'm not a slut. I only did it with the one I love. Loved.
Thought I loved.
And it was great.
Until he up and left me for his ho-next-door after two years. It's not much, but what the hell is that? Senior year's a bitch.
Turns out, he's been knocking her door for a while now since Sarah's house party while her parents headed out for Vegas. Music, beer, smokes, you know the deal. Except in movies, these parties are in rich houses, lavish with vases pronounced vah-sez and chandeliers and precious family heirlooms.
This is Skyline. Nobody's living like that. Houses are already fucked up as is, so her parents wouldn't have noticed the damage. But like they'd even care.
That was junior year. Now that year was hell. No wonder.
A bunch of us were headed for the mountains for the weekend- livin' it cold until winter break ended. It'd be a fun time, and given that the comrades were couples, it'd be intimate, too-- a romantic triple date: Jeremy and Alyn, Squid and Lina, then Ricky and me. Squid and I talked about it and invited Germz and Alyn, but they weren't too sure about that yet. I called Ricky.
"Hello?" he answered.
"Heeey, are you busy this weekend?" I asked.
"Um, I don't think I am. Why, what's up?"
"Are you ready to go up to Big Bear? We can have a little fun with Germz and the group."
"...You know what? I think I'm actually... busy." He hung up. Abruptly.
Oh. Hell. No.
It wasn't only that, but he started to bail on a lot of outings and dates. He would cancel at the last minute, slowly quit tutoring me, and it just all in all seemed like he was avoiding me. Son of a gun. Thankfully, the bestfriendship with the kids never left me as fifth wheel or whatever that term would be. The fact that Ricky was gone for unknown reasons annoyed and played with my mind. At least the group kept me up. Of course they did. They always did and always will. Especially Squid.
Squid and I were neighbors our whole lives, and our parents were friends- my mom and his mom. Dad was great in meeting new people, too. So Squid and I grew up together. His real name-- nevermind. He and I made a spinky promise back in the day I'd never tell, but I'll tell you one thing. Boy's a stick. Literally. He sports the skinnys and small shirts with side bangs and headbands. What a SCENE KID. We've been through thick and thin, even when my mom turned out to be a bisexual slut between my father and his mother. And even when his mother had her times of fun with both my parents as well. At different times, of course.
And our dads ended up boning each other.
Just messin'. Bet you tripped out. But the mom part's a go, as gross as it may seem.
After this great big mess of affair, his parents and my parents decided to move immediately, two months later.
Lina is his girlfriend. He doesn't even call her that label, if you want to call it that. She's his booty call, in my opinion. Pretty sad, I must say, but I'm sure she'll easily be able to work in the Folies-Bergere with that body of hers. Squid may be shallow with girls, but he's my guy.
Alyn: former neighbor number two, who never really liked Squid when we were youngins. Now this girl is ridiculously pretty. Long, sleek, black hair. Pretty face. She may not be a dime, but she sure is a treasure. She's wonderful with or without makeup. I'd rip her face off and staple it to mine if that's ever possible to do without getting charged for first degree murder and an insanity file. The only reason why she's okay with Squid now is because her boyfriend, Jeremy, which we all call Germz, is ladykiller number one and bandmate of Squid. Pneumonic-- hear the music, and listen to the screams is currently on hiatus... since neither of them know how to play an instrument anyway.
This is where Ricky comes in. He would be the singer, if the band really did play something. Though Pneumonic labeled themselves screamo... Ricky's voice is just heaven. That's how he caught my heart, singing "Bed of Roses" one karaoke night at some random Filipino restaurant I poked my head into.
But that's all over now. Screw him and his hobag with a 64mm drill gun. I could care less.
-------------------------
Warm and musty.
That's how it feels like under the sheets, kissing passionately with another person. You feel giggly and happy inside if it's your significant other and not some chick your man just hooked up with at a certain Sarah Lyndon's party who he's been getting at since.
But there we were, multiple times, sneaking away to his house every chance we had, riding the bus with anxiety and crossing streets with laughter of spontaneity.
I'd end up coercing him into giving me piggyback rides, in which he'd rush to his house, open the door, jet through the kitchen, into his bedroom and gently slam me on his bed. An attacker he was, making his way at me while I was watching Step by Step, eating popcorn and drinking some OJ. And a seductive guy he was, too.
Stop what you're thinking. I am not a nymphomaniac. But most of the time it was innocent, cooking and movie watching, cleaning up the house, preparing lunch for his brother's arrival, helping each other on homework. We'd play some DDR and link up with the timeless game of Candyland or play the violent game of Quarters. It was as if we were already married, caring for each other like this, being together like this... and the primary event a couple has after the holy matrimony? Sex.
Do you want to do it?
Yeah but...
Don't worry, nothing bad will happen. We'll be safe.
I know, but I"m not really sure if I want to do this right now.
I won't leave you after this. I'm not the hit-it-and-quit-it kid. You know that, right, babe?
Yeah, I know.
Come on, let's do this.
...Okay...
Sometimes I wish I hadn't urged him to have sex. Then maybe he wouldn't have gotten so into it and start booming every other girl in our damn neighborhood.
***Please comment. This is my first story and I'd really appreciate constructive criticism/story ideas for the future :D
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Comments
I think this works very well
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This is like reading a
Kisses, KellyK
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