Aiden and Andre

 I walked quietly down the white and blue hallways staring at everything murderously. I HATED this school. Hated, hated, hated, hated.

 

gotta. get. out. of. here.

 

I continued down the whitest effing hallway with the sickeningly happy "do-your-very-best-and-you-can-do-anything!" bullshit posters. Everything's  survival of the fittest, and if you don't have the balls to do it then well, you're s**t outta luck. God, I hate this place. All the lies and bullshit they feed you, all the propaganda and the mind washing and controlling, saying that they are preparing you for life when in reality-

 

"Go cry and cut yourself in a corner, freak." I walked past a typical football player, tall, handsome by most standards and not so bright with my head held high, just ignoring him.

 

Sorta. I wanted to beat the s**t out of him.

 

My eye twitched and I tighten my hand around my book bag strap, fighting the urge to turn around and-

 

break...his....jaw.... 

 

"Hey! He's talking to you! Guess your w*****k parents never taught you any manners." Bimbo Blonde laughed.

Oh, HA-LAR-RI-OUS

 

I stopped mid step, which was probably a mistake. I released and clenched my hand, feeling the heavy weight of my brass ring around my index finger, contemplated about leaving a nice new bruise on her face, reminded myself that I only had a few months left, and continued the long trek to my locker. I heard snickers and something about dick sucking as I turned around the corner.

 

My God they are lucky. So very very lucky.

 

"Andre!" I turned around at the call of my name.

"Yes sir." I was still seething about the comment.

"Did I hear something about a w*****k?" I glared at my biology teacher.

Well, not like at him at him, just...nevermind.

He had heard the previous conversation and his feathers were ruffled.

 

I nodded. He and I had this bond together, he being of Spanish descent and I being of Native descent, we tend to attract people of assholian descent. Birds of a feather flock together, I guess. 

"The football player again?" He didn't look to pleased.

"Yessir." I nodded once at him.

He rolled his eyes and raised his eyebrow at me and sighed, "You know, I'm not in the military anymore and neither are you, so you don't have to call me sir. Or stand at attention." He looked over his glasses to make a point, though it was mostly a moot point because he and I were about the same height. I was tall for a girl.

"Alright. See you Monday." He sighed, crossed his arms and bobbed his head once.

"Goodbye sir."  I bowed slightly at him just to see him roll his eyes again as he turned back into his classroom. I tightened my jaw and turned around the corner and finally made it to my locker.

Took me frickin long enough.

I spun the lock on the door, growled at it when it didn't cooperate and beat at it until it squeaked open. I roughly  shoved my English book in the locker before anything else flew out of it.

"Beating up poor defenseless lockers? Shame, Shame."

A slight twinge went down my back as a deep strong voice came from my side. I slammed my locker hard and punched it for good measure.

"Yepp."  I hoisted my book bag up over my shoulder and turned around to meet Aiden, really the only person that I could call a friend.

"Geez you're so violent." He smirked at me and I stuck out my tongue. He chuckled and bit at one of his lip rings. "See you're in a mood. Ready to go?" he raised his eye brows waiting for an answer. I shrugged my shoulders and we both started walking down the hall as the bell rang and a flood of students rushed out for the end of school. Silently, we maneuvered through the mass of noise and bodies and down the road towards Aiden's house. 

 

. . .

"Mooommm, I'm home! Andre's here too!" Aiden opened the front door and unceremoniously dumped his book bag on the floor in front of the closet. I watched with some interest as he went head-first into the room to my left, probably to raid the fridge, his chains and heavy tripp pants swooshing and jingling behind him. I smirked slightly when I heard the ancient metal door open and Aiden's voice swear at it. I sighed and put my bag down beside his and stalked quietly into the kitchen, which took a second because his house is FREAKIN HUGE.

“Hey Andre! -OW D****T!- oh. There you are.” He rubbed the spot where he smacked it hard on the fridge with one hand and offered me a plate of day old chicken in the other.  

Um, ew.

I shook my head no and sat down at the island table in my usual spot at the end closet to the fridge. He glared fiercely at me and set the plate down in front of me. He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. I matched his glare.

Oooohhhh, here we go. Lecture time.

“Why don't you ever eat? You-” I threw my head back and groaned silently. The microwave beeped loudly in protest.

“Yes, know it's bad, and yes, I'm never hungry. We've been over this.” I spun around on the bar stool and looked down at my old a*s boots. 

Actually, that's a lie, I'm always hungry.

He gave me a pissy look, uncrossed his arms, and turned around. "One of these days I'll tie you to a chair and force feed you french fries." I just rolled my eyes and continued to spin in my stool. The microwave beeped loudly again, as if to say, LOOK AT ME. He growled and took out the chicken and bit into it. I stayed silent and watched him in slight interest as he reached up to grab a plate. I kept watching him as he walked to the fridge and bent down to grab some turkey and bread from the bottom self, the chicken leg still shoved half way into his mouth. He stood up and went back to his spot. He made the sandwich quickly and with practiced grace, stacking it thick and high. He rip another piece of the chicken off. He looked at the sandwich, rubbed his chin, clicked his tongue and walked over to the fridge. He hoisted it open, rubbed his chin again, bounced his leg once or twice,bit another piece off and bent down. He leaned on his heels for a second, then reached into the darkest depths of the ancient icebox for his god-knows-what.

“What are you lookin at?” He curled his lip at me and started playing with his lip ring in concentration while he dug for gold or something.

“Lookin at a fatty tryin to squeeze himself in the fridge to get his mayonnaise....while suckin on a piece of meat.” He made another face at me and finally pulled out the stupid jar and stuck his tongue out at it. He stood up, wiggled his butt in triumph, finished his nasty piece of chicken and slapped half of the flippin jar of mayonnaise on top of the turkey.

Ugh, the discussing habits of men....but, then again, like I have room to talk.

“Love that white stuff,don't ya?” I smirked. He looked over his shoulder and licked his index finger. I frowned when I didn't get the reaction I wanted to from him.

Too busy with his food I guess.

He turned back and continued making the rest of his sandwich. We sat in comfortable silence as I rested my face on my hand.

“Alright Andre, stop oggling Aiden. I know he's sexy and all but dammi it woman control yourself.” I turned my head around on the bar chair and watched Aiden's mom come in carrying a paper bag. I sat up straight puffed my cheeks at her.

I was not!

“Don't give me that look, you know that's what you were doing.” She set the bags down on the island and looked at me with the same piercing blue eyes of Aiden and winked at me. I felt my cheeks burn red as I watched her place the bags down on the counter in front of me. His mom always knew how to make me blush. And I don't blush easy. She smiled knowingly at me and looked up from her work. “Where'd he go?”I looked up in surprise and just shrugged my shoulders. 

“There's still two other bags mom.” Aiden came in carrying another three bags of groceries. He winked discreetly at me as he set the bags down on the counter. He turned around and sauntered back out of the kitchen. Aiden's mom watched him go. I saw a look of sadness cross her face.

“He's not a little kid anymore....neither are you.” She sighed and started unpacking the groceries. I didn't say anything but I got up and helped her put away the groceries and all I could think about was what she had said.

Was I? And was he?

Author's Note

edit: I'm changin up the story abit because, personally, it sounds like a 14 year old wrote this. Ssoooooooooo, hopefully I'll make it better, add some things and change when the concert happens. enjoy!
ok...so apprently I can't tell a story like I did before....so.....excuse the lack of variaty in the sentence structure...and I still can't spell worth a crap.

Reviews

[Kaylor Mason]

This is a story I can personally identify with! It brings back painful memories, and yet it seems superb in the first couple paragraphs. Can't wait to read more. Ironically enough, in addition to everything here that reminds me of my "youth" I'm a huge fan of Tokio Hotel! The way their lyrics seem to lance through me with truth is so . . . surreal and awesome, for lack of better words. This book is awesome. Way to go!

[Jennika has a short att..]

It's about time I found a Tokio Hotel book :D Spelling is overrated, I think the book is great so far, off to the next chapter!

[Sseoni]

It's nice to find a Tokio Hotel book up here. I love them! They're a great band! Anyways, I feel like you let the reader know a bit about the characters and that's good! :D