Disclaimer: I don't be ownin' dat dare Shake It Up! It den done be owned bai dat dare Disney people, ya know, with dem fancy cars and dem women with big ol' teenage titties.
NEW STORY! Excitement face C:
Ew... He's breathing on me. I can see his scruffy beard swaying lightly as he constructs me on what to do, with that revolting scent on chicken noodles flowing from his mouth. It disappears for a seconds as he glances back at the class, and I thank God for that.
"Raquel, you're not paying attention."
Damn it, it's back.
"Mr. Watashi, I think that it would be better if you show the entire class on the board, it'd be much eas-" His eyes squinted and he hushed me, and soon students were flying out of the room, crowding the door and trying to climb over eachother, attempting to see what was causing the mayhem in the halls.
"Such a stupid bitch!" Someone's got a potty mouth...
"Says the girl who failed art!" This girl has a heavy accent...
I would love to stay at my desk, content and out of the bodies of odorous eighth graders, but I need to pee. Like, super-mega-badly. I spot a little doorway through the crowd, and quickly sliver through the cheering crowd. Then I see what the commotion is being caused by.
A blonde and a redhead, who're trying VERY hard to get eachother's heads off. I think I recognize the redhead though... Can't really see her face when all the hair is covering it up.
That redhead girl throws bad punches. She seriously just hit air in the face. But then she comes back with a strike of her left fist right to the blonde's nose, and that's pretty much when the halls got louder with cheers and yells. The blonde growls and slaps the girl square across her face, and then the redhead tackles her to the ground.
Woah, I can totally see up the redhead's skirt from this angle.
Not that I like it, cuz I don't like girls. Never. I'm more straight than a Justin-Bieber fan girl. That's on the cheerleading team. And supports abstinence. And I go to church.
Maybe I admire Cameron Diaz a little more than the average person, but still, my door doesn't swing that way.
I wonder if that picture of her kissing Lucy Liu is still on my laptop after Ty found it yesterday. I'll see to that at home.
Soon teachers are pulling at both the girl's arms and grunting at them in dismay. They still claw and throw hits at eachother until they are being dragged apart into different classes. Oh, it's her.
And by her, I mean, by far, the most prettiest girl I've ever seen.
It's just a compliment, calm your tits. Or balls. Or whatever middle category you fall into.
I guess I could say that ever since she moved into our building last month, right below me, I've never taken my eyes off her. She has chocolate eyes that glitter in the sunlight, fiery waves of hair that match her personality, and her smile- If she ever smiled at me, I'd probably wet myself, then cry, then die of a heart attack. It's that intimidating.
I say 'If' because, well, I'm not really popular, and she is. As in, the only time she talks to me is when she directing an insult at me. No one talks to me, like, no one at all- Well, my cat, Tiffany Brittana Diaz-Starr III, or Tiff, talks to me, but no actual human does. Not even my idiot of a brother. The only time he talks to me is when he's referencing to my overly-sized glasses, or how I talk 'like a white girl' when I speak. It's not my fault he talks like an ignorant twit.
See? Twit. Who says chiz like that?
I'm disrupted by the gentle tap of a finger on my shoulder, only to turn around and see Principle Walloch staring at me and- Wow, where'd everyone go?
I look back at Miss Walloch and she's giving me the sweetest smile ever.
God DAMN, she's fine.
... Okay, so maybe I do talk like Ty sometimes.
And that was only a compliment. I swear.
"Raquel, you seemed zoned out today. What're you doing standing in the hall?" Waiting for you to whisk me away with your cloud of sexiness.
"I'm, uh, I was heading to the, er, the bathroom. Yeah, the bathroom." She could seriously stop a herd of... Everything. I mean, GOD, look at her. Well, you can't see her...
Oh, how you miss out.
"Oh, well in that case, carry on. By the way, fantastic job at the National Science Regionals, I love the sculpture." And with that, she winked at me, and strutted away.
She's like an inch away from Cameron Diaz. Just an milli-inch.
I conducted an entire life-sized sculpture of Principle Walloch, made completely out of clay. I installed eighty electro-magnet wires in the hollow of the sculpture, then pulled them through the clay while it was wet. Everyone knows that the protons, neutrons, and electrons of the electric current will bounce off of the texture of the clay, so that nothing will happen. But I coated the clay with large amounts of neon gas, which is an excellent conductor of electricity. After covering the wires with protective plastic, I painted the sculpture, and took the plastic off, then screwed rainbow bulbs over the wires and connected the wires into potatoes. Yes, potatoes, because potatoes can conduct up to two-hundred trillion, billion mega-watts of electricity. Then it was done.
Now, go back and read all of that. I know you better than you know you.
I would've kept the sculpture, but I let Miss Walloch have it. Only because she was showing alot of cleavage that day.
Okay, I would've given it to her if she were in a Barney suit.
That woman is irresistible.
She smells like peppermint on Mondays and Tuesdays, and on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, she smells like blooming daisies. And I found out yesterday that on Saturdays, she smells like cotton candy. Mmm.
Sunday. I have to know about Sunday.
... I'm freaking the hell out of myself.
I know every kid in school looks at her the way I do. At least half the way I do, I bet-
Wow, I just walked all the way to the bathroom, took a whaz, and now I'm washing my hands, all while talking to you.
I'm such a beast.
My head nearly snaps off my body as the bathroom door slams shut, and a huffy redhead makes her way into the- OMIGOD IT'S CECE.
My knees- I can't feel my knees. They just like, freaking melted, and she comes up, RIGHT next to me.
Oh gosh, my problem. My hyperventilation problem, it's coming, I feel it. She's so close to me. Oh God.
I realize that my hands stop moving and I'm staring at her longer than I should, but I physically can't take my eyes off her. Despite the little cuts that flaw her lower lip and cheek, the soft, porcelain skin decorates the frame of it, with her little red hair flailed around her head, and her eyebrows tucked downwards in annoyance. She tries running her fingers through her hair, trying to get come order out of it, but growls as it seems it does no difference.
My lungs are starting to constrict and I open my mouth slightly to take in some air but not so much that I open my mouth wide and look like an idiot; It doesn't help.
I wonder if I told her that she looks beautiful like this, would she take it wrong.
She probably would take it wrong, because... Well, CeCe's not very... Bright.
"Urgh, stupid fucking hair!"
The bell rings and she groans before catching my eyes, and by now my vision is blurred, I can't feel my body, and I see three beautiful, red-headed angles, raising an eyebrow at me. The last I catch is the sound of heels fading out the restroom.
She looked... At me.
Then, it's dark.
"You fainted, hun." Nurse Kelly says to me as she sits over me, reading some magazine. By the way, did I mention that Nurse Kelly is pretty? "Huh?"
Really, really pretty... Red-headed, and has a pretty smile, and the best beach body ever.
... I swear I'm developing Tourette's...
"Apparently you collapsed in the restroom and Trixie found you. She's my new assistant. Says hi, Trix," Nurse Kelly murmurs as she nods her head over to Nurse Trixie.
Where are all these beautiful woman coming from? "Raquel, you see me a lot during the year, but never for something like this. What happened, hun?" I love when she calls me that.
"I, uh, I was... Hot."
"It's only fifty-seven degrees today. And I was just testin' ya, you had a hyperventilation-induced-panic-attack."
I sit up on the mighty uncomfortable bed, and- Jesus, is that my underwear? "Is that?... Are th-those my-"
"Yeah, we had to check and make sure you didn't fracture anything when you collapsed," Trixie says, fluttering her eyes and smiling at me and... God, why do you do this to me? "I'm gonna go to class now." I quickly stand up (Subtly grabbing my underwear), then quickly lose my balance, thus falling forward and nearly breaking my face in the process. Nurse Trixie gently pulled me up and tapped my nose. "Be careful, Raquel."
If I break my ass will she tap that too?
One can only wonder.
I slip out of the nurses' office with a pass and make my way to fourth period.
I don't like girls.
So far, I have had the worst day ever.
So, I was at lunch, going to sit at my table and finish reading Princess in Pink, but then I tripped. Boy, did I trip.
I tripped, and went face first to the ground. And my food went spilling all over me. I remained on the ground for a few more seconds, because the only thing my body can register is pain and the sound of laughter. I pull my face up, and my heart actually stops, and breaks.
Ty, my brother, is standing there, holding himself and guffawing, and his friend Deuce is rolling on the ground, killing- himself-laughing, but that's not what truly hurts me the most.
My glasses are smeared with an unknown substance, but I can still see perfectly what hurts me. What hurts me is that CeCe Jones is standing there with tears in her eyes, pointing at me, and laughing herself off. She's then crouching on the floor, saying,"It- It hurts, ohmigod!" And still pointing at me, laughing and trying catch her breath. I pull myself up, and make my way out of the lunchroom in a dash, leaving my book and my food forgotten. Everything was just in pain.
Everything just hurt.
After my unsettling public embarrassment, I try to reduce the tears that threaten to fall, and I succeed in that, trying to remember that majority of those idiots aren't going to make it into Harvard and I am. Ignorant twits. I changed my clothes (I always keep a second pair for safety) and headed to the Art Room for the remainder of the lunch period, as that's the only place where it's empty this period, and I can work on assignments and not be bothered by paper targeted at the back of my head.
With a silent sigh, I look at the art around me. Just paintings of-
... Is that a... Is that penis?...
And while I finish up my math, now disgusted, I hear my name over the intercom,"Raquel Blue, please report to the office, Raquel Blue, please report to the office." And internally thank God/Cameron Diaz that I don't have to face the eyes of eighth graders. They've probably gotten a nickname for me now... Again.
It's only gotten worse since CeCe moved into town.
Toad legs, Run-Up-Get-Done-Up, Vicky McVirgin, Gold Star (I hate that one), Quadruple-Eyes (I guess it makes her feel smarter instead of using the word 'four'.) Some of things she calls me, I just don't understand. Like, this one.
All in all, she calls me a lot of things... And since she noticed my bad front tooth last week, now I've been deemed Bugs Bunny.
I sometimes despise that I love her.
I enter the office with a gentle push on the door, and see Ms. Walloch smiling at me. My spirits are lifted a little bit, and I take a seat in her leather chair.
"Miss Blue, are you okay?" I nod. "I was told about your... Incident, at lunch, and I figured that the least you wanted was a break from all these kids. Oh, here," she says, gently pushing my forgotten book towards me. I mutter,"Thank you."
"As you know, there's been numerous breakouts of fights this month, with the same particular person, and I want to put an end to it. Seeing that you are one of my best students in, well, the school, I think you're the perfect girl for the job. So, I'm going to assign a task to you. You are going to be my new monitor."
I really, really hope she means I get to monitor her. "Student monitor." Dammit. "For the rest of this month, you will be assigned to that student, and you will monitor her actions." Her?... "You will also help her with her studies, because, well, she ain't doin' so well. Oh, excuse my southern side."
OMG THAT WAS FREAKING ADORABLE.
"Are you up to it?" I give her a weak smile, and nod. "Alright then. Cecelia, come on out." ...Cecelia? Who's Cecelia?
"The name is CeCe Jones. Come on, Jennifer, you know that." Ms. Walloch ignores the girl's remark to her first name, and points to the seat... Next?To me. "Take a seat, Cecelia."
I have to monitor...?CeCe Jones?For a... Month?
"Jennifer, you're really not gonna make me waste my time with Ally McAbstinece here are you?"
"I'm Principle Walloch to you, not Jennifer. Miss Jones, Raquel is great inspiration to numerous kids around the school, and I think it'd be great if you stepped in the same path path as her- Raquel, are you okay? You look a little pale..."
I'm gonna die.
"I'm fine," I squeak. CeCe slouches in her chair and her shirt rides up and- Oh my God, she has the most fiercest abs I've ever seen. But besides that.
I'm gonna start hyperventilating again. "Cecelia, can you handle a month with Raquel?"
"Whatever, I guess." She... She actually said?...Yes? "As long as she doesn't touch me or whatever... I don't want Princess Fruity-Cooties..." ... I feel like a feather right now...
Everything is all blurry?... "So, starting tomorrow you'll be... -Rocky? Are yo- ... Jesus, not aga- EWWW, DON'T TOUCH M-... She's drooling on-... Is she dea-... She's out like Kanye..."
And that's the last of what I heard.
And although my body was nonfunctional, my brain was wide awake, and my mind was screaming in my ears.
Raquel Blue and CeCe Jones, together.
Me and CeCe were going to be together.
Then, I see black.
So, apparently, I have a fainting/hyperventilation/panic attack problem, and I need to stay home for the rest of the day. This is purely unacceptable.
I'm sitting in my room on my bed, still trying not to go into a coma at the thought of being in the same room as CeCe, when there's no one around but us. Although I'm 99.9% sure that CeCe hates my guts, I still can't believe she actually agreed to it. I'm gonna have to watch her through school, and that means gym.
I don't have gym, so I'm predicting I just get to watch.
But then again, why would CeCe stick with me for even more than a second? Like I said, it's pretty obvious she hates me. The first time we met at school, I can still remember those first, same... Colorful words.
'Are you from Texas? 'Cuz your forehead can't BE any bigger.'
Such a good memory.
I need to get a grip of myself... CeCe purely despises me with a passion. I can't keep on thinking that this is gonna somehow change her view towards me. I'm still Vicky McVirgin, I'm still the girl who blacks out wherever she goes, I'm still... Me. And I can conclude that CeCe will never seem to accept that.
I sigh as Tiffany saunters up to me and lays on my lap and meows. "I am not freaking out, Tiff. It's just?You know how long I've loved CeCe."
Tiffany meows again. "A month is too a long time!" ... "Can we count in light-months?" She hissed at me and jumped off of my lap, and I straightened my glasses as a knock at the door caught my attention.
Yay, the pizza guy is here!
I grab my twelve dollars and rush out of my room and to the front door, and- Dammit, AGAIN?
"Ow..." I push myself off the floor and frown at my hand. My money is all crinkled now. I hate that. I straighten my glasses once again, and open the door to...
So. Not. The pizza guy.
Why does my mouth hate me so damn much?
"Um, okay?..." CeCe. At my door. In my house. She slides past me and claps her hands together. "Let's get one thing straight, Er... Rachel? We are not friends. I'm only here because my mom is killing me about grades this year, and you're a nerd, so you can help me. So, let's get started."
She's?Talking to me and not directly making an insult. "Raquel."
She gives me a blank look. "What?"
"My name... It's Raquel." I look down at me feet as she continues burning holes into me with her eyes, and she snorts with laughter. I remain quiet.
"Raquel? Are you a Mormon or something?" I let out a silent sigh. "Can we just get to the part where you help me pass school? And what the hell are you looking at? Is there a piece of lint shaped like George Bush down there?"
My eyes snap up at her snide comment, and I sigh again. "Principle Walloch said that we don't start until tomorrow..."
"Ugh, well, whatever then. I'm missing the Bad Girls Club anyway." And just like that, my first ever, real conversation with CeCe Jones was over. She confuses me when she walks over to my fire escape and opens it up. "...Why're you using the fire escape?" I will never know how I managed to open my mouth.
"My house is right below yours, smart ass." I was glad that mother wasn't home; She'd probably kill me for letting a girl like CeCe in the house...
She disappears out my fire escape and I mentally check again that I just had a conversation with CeCe. "By the way, I'm not going around hanging with someone with a name like Raquel. Your name'll be..." She appears again in the fire escape.
She bites her lip...
It's freaking adorable.
I just wanna eat her up and out and in every possible way...
That was very, non-subtly dirty.
But I can't deny the truth.
Rocky... Rocky Blue. "Bye, loser!" And she's gone again.
CeCe Jones gave me a nickname. Rocky.
... Rocky and CeCe.
I don't why... But that phrase just has heaven's ring to it.
Yes, yes... A new story. Like a newborn baby it is; It keeps you up at ungodly hours, you have to change it, and it cries. Well, this baby is crying for reviews. Do you know what is more better than money? And prostitutes? Reviews. (Although, I doubt Candy from down the street would say this. She's got orange hair. I prefer blue-headed prostitutes.)
But really, review.
My foot itches.
Seriously, though, do you have like some foot cream?
Eh, I'll just call Candy. She'll fix my frown :]