by, 07-12-2008 at 05:04 PM (1108 Views)
hey guys, did ya miss me? How is everybody? right now, we are painting rooms over at my house and, I'm writting a book! i'll post here on occasion. I can't promise that what i post will stay the same, but here it goes!
Why oh why did it have to be me? Couldn’t some one else do this? I was in front of 200 people singing. Don’t get me wrong, I love to sing! But not in front of people I don’t know. The only person I knew, was nowhere to be found. She just had to get sick. Oh well, I guess you can’t have everything you want, or need in this particular case. At least I wasn’t drawing or painting for each individual. I was done now and everyone was applauding, if 199 people was everybody.
Tom Bailey wasn’t applauding. It was weird how he applauded for everybody but me. Oh well, maybe someday I’ll get him to admire me. So what he was 3 years older than me (I was a beautiful girl of 14 years of age and he was a fine young man of 17) he was supposed to clap at least once.
Besides that feeling of “200 people’s eyes on me watching my every move” feeling of being uncomfortable, I realized when I sat down, my uniform was really irritating. The people here at Grove Academy for Boys and Girls made the girls wear blue skirts that came to our knees, and silver 3-quarter sleeve shirts, knee high silver socks, and blue shoes. The boys wore the same basically, but instead of blue skirts, they wore blue pants. Both genders wore blue and silver striped ties. But when you turned 16 years of age (boy or girl) you could wear whatever you wanted.
“How’d it go Ella Marie?” said my ill roommate Vida Lara leGrand as soon as I entered the dorm room we shared. We always called each other by our first and middle names. The room was dull besides the CD player, come CD’s, a few posters here and there, my books, our own belongings, and our own wardrobes.
“The same as usual Vida Lara, and how do you fair?” I said in a disinterested, and slightly bitter tone.
“Tom Bailey didn’t applaud,” It wasn’t a question.
“What do you think you bubblehead.” Thanks to Scott Westerfeld, my vocabulary had improved. “Why doesn’t he clap at least once?! It’s not like it’ll kill him!”
“I heard that he has a thing for you Ella Marie. Tom doesn’t clap for the people he likes at least a little.” She said rising from her bed, her curls falling from their place in a tight bun or ponytail tied with a ribbon.
“Oh yeah? Well guess what?” I was getting a wave of anger to flow like a storm: fierce and mercilessly. “If, I say if, he liked me in the least he would have said something would he not?”
“But-” I cut her off.
“Don’t even start. Tom Bailey is three years older than me. In society, women nowadays don’t usually marry or date with three years difference.”
“Ella Marie Kano I assume?” a male voice sweet as honey said, inviting me into it’s sweet feathery softness.
Shoot. I turned to take in his profile. Black pants, dark shoes, dark navy long sleeve shirt, pale skin, dark brown (almost black) hair that flopped halfway over his eyes. Last I took in his face: Eyes as green as an emeralds looking at me full in the face, full lips, perfect nose that rounded at a point, high cheekbones, and a chin like an animie’s chin. Tom stood about 5’ 10”. my own height about 5’ 3 ¼”.
I was enveloped in his beauty. He was too beautiful to behold. Tom seemed a little emo or gothic like me.
“Yes?” It was Vida Lana. I was too stunned to speak.
“I have a note for you from the head mistress, here,” he said as he pulled a note out of his right back pocket, never taking his jewel green emerald eyes from mine. “She said to read it alone, in private.” At this his eyes sparkled as if he was keeping a secret from the world. He handed me the note. His fingers skimming the palm of my hand. It burned, cold and leaving what felt like fire on my hand as it left, and my eyes strayed from his to see why he was cold. I looked to find his face, but he was gone.
“What was that about Ella Marie?” I came out of my trance and turned to her.
“I don’t know.” I said slowly. I was…confused.
“Let’s read the letter!” Vida Lana said while bouncing up and down on her bed while clapping at the same time.
“Vida, there was something in his eyes and the way he spoke that said ‘Read it alone and no exceptions.’ You had better stop bouncing or you’ll get sick and hurl.” I said and turned to leave.
“Vida!” this time I meant for a little more anger to fill the atmosphere “ I mean it! Stop prying, please.” She was hurt now. “Vida Lana, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“No, no, it’s fine, you’ve had a bad day. It’s okay. I understand. You’ve been under a lot of pressure. Go on.”
“Thank you for understanding.” I hugged her and left and went to our bathroom.
But the note wasn’t from the head mistress.
Thank you! Thank you! what do you think?