Not Another YA Chick-Lit StoryA Story by The Tudor RoseAnother assignment for class. The assignment was the cliched idea that a popular girl likes a socially awkward guy. And to tell it in 3rd person and 1st person
(1st Person)
"Hey Lizzy. How was your weekend?" Peter finally asked from behind me. From the minute he saw me when he stepped into the classroom, I could tell he'd been waiting to ask me that. I didn't know why he needed to work up the courage to talk to me, it was both endearing and insulting, I was a regular girl after all.
..."Regular" translating to having more "bffs" than I could count on my hands and feet, being well off enough to afford weekly trips to the spa to keep my glowing skin flawless, and oh yes, I just happened to land a supporting role in 2007's hit, Hairspray. And there's also the tiny fact that Zac Efron asked me out twice, but hey, I'm not bragging.
So yeah, I was popular, but it wasn't like I wasn't human. Which is why I was a little irritated with Peter.
"Uneventful. Thanks for asking." I replied and turned back around in my seat away from him. I was staring at his face through the reflective frame around the clock. The emotions that passed on his face should only be found in tear-jerkers, you know, like in Of Mice And Men where Carl had to kill Lennie.
I didn't mean to be rude, but I hated how the one person who I really wanted to see the real me put me up on a pedestal I couldn't live up to. But that was just my way. I wasn't the kind of person to talk out my problems. Years of popularity got me accustomed to expressing my disapproval effectively through the cold shoulder.
The bell rung and the rest of the room quieted immediately. But the emo kid who sat next to me still had her earphones in and was blasting Michael Jackson's Man In The Mirror. Hmm. Odd choice, I thought. I would have guessed that they'd instead be listening to some death metal or some suicidal s**t like that. Rather than listen to Mr. Hayes's disturbing speech admiring Adolf Hitler, I listen to sweet words of Michael Jackson.
I'm gonna make a change...
...And I'm starting with me...
That's it! If I wanted Peter to acknowledge me as, well, me, I had to show him me. I can't stay the same person. I need to change, not him! God, what's wrong with me? Why did I not figure this out sooner? I spent the rest of the class period berating myself and planning my words.
Standard approach: Peter...I...I like you.
Shy approach: Peter...Would you like to go out with me? I mean, I know you have chess club and Matheletes some Fridays, but...
Direct approach: Peter! We're going out this Saturday, understand? Pick me up at five. (then cover him silly with kisses)
RIIIIIIIIIING!
Now's the time. The girls try to come over to me and talk about something insignificant. But all I see is Peter. I hold up a hand to halt their conversations, and I make my way towards my little geek.
"Peter...I..."
(3rd Person)
Peter walked into the class room and saw her. Lizzy looked absolutely stunning today. Go say hi, he told himself. Do it now! But he couldn't. Whenever he thought about going up to Lizzy, his throat got really dry and his hands started to clam up. Maybe once I work up my courage...Just a little more...
Lizzy watched as Peter circled around her, avoiding her gaze. She could practically she himself rehearsing what he was going to say. She tried not to smile, but it was just too cute. So she waited. And waited. And waited...
She checked the clock irritably and then looked towards the doorway, looking for someone to talk to. Peter came up behind her.
"Hey Lizzy, how was your weekend?" Six minutes and that's all you could come up with? You moron. No wonder she's looking at you like you have B.O Then again... Self-consciously, he quickly snuck a whiff. Nope. All's clear.
"Uneventful, thanks for asking." she said coldly then turned around before he could say anymore. He knew that gesture. It literally was a cold shoulder. Peter's stomach sank and his brow furrowed as if he'd just killed a baby bird. He kept his eyes on her until the bell rang and he walked back to his seat. Peter spent the entire class period going over the scene again, thinking about what he could have done differently, what he should have done differently.
Before he knew it, the bell rang and he slowly gathered up his books. When he looked up he saw a smiling Lizzy. His heart started beating faster just at the sight of her. Oh, and she smelled good. Like sandalwood. She was looking at him as if she'd rehearsed a couple lines herself.
"Peter...I..."
© 2009 The Tudor RoseAuthor's Note
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Added on July 15, 2009 AuthorThe Tudor RoseLos Angeles, CAAbouter um...i like history, like centuries-ago-history (see my name). I started writing seriously in 3rd grade, if you can call Writer's Workshop serious, but I *did* take it more seriously than my classm.. more..Writing
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