Chapter Six-9 Days Ago

A teenage girl's tale of survival after the apocalypse

Chapter Six

9 Days Ago-Wednesday, June 8^th

            Today, I could tell homeroom, which was biology with the evil-incarnate, Mr. Fowler, would be as painful as my current hangover.  Since my hoverer was at the mechanic, my mother drove my brothers and me to school, and the drive had been unbearable because my mother had blasted her oldies music.  Let me tell you I learned pretty quickly that loud, screechy music made my head throb and ache even more than I thought was possible.  Upon reaching the high school, I jumped out of the hoverer, before it had finished setting itself on the ground.  A quick wave goodbye to my mother and I ran into the school seeking relief from annoyingly painful sounds.  It was a futile attempt, obviously.  High school was not known for silence and peace, so I was in for a rough day.

There were about twenty minutes until class started, so I decided to rest my head on my desk, in a vain hope that my head would miraculously stop its incessant throbbing.  A loud plop of books on the desk next to me alerted me to my bestie’s presence.  Groan!  As much as I love my bestie, I knew she was about to talk my ear off, so I groaned.

“All right, spill it, Alexia Liliana Montgomery.  I covered for you last night, when your mom called; of course, I don’t mind covering, but I would love to know what I was covering for… so, naturally, I want details!”  Heather demanded with a Cheshire-like smile and arms folded, reminiscent of a boot camp drill instructor. 

Before I could even assemble an answer, Jocelyn and Greg walked in the room and made their way over to us.  My two friends were chattering between themselves about Victoria’s Secret’s new line of perfumes, until they saw my haggard appearance and Heather’s stare down.  I suppressed another groan, because I knew there was no way I was going to get out of this without an interrogation. 

Jocelyn, queen of gossip, greeted Heather and I with a too cheery good morning, which set off another round of painful pounding in my head.  This time it was impossible to contain a groan, which immediately brought Jocelyn’s attention to me.  “Sshhhhhh!”  I pleaded as I held my head in my hands, deciding if I wanted to tear my head off.

“OMG!  I can’t believe Miss Goody Two Shoes is hung over…yup, I can still smell the alcohol on you,” Jocelyn sniffed me as she announced to anyone in the vicinity of my hung over state. 

“No way!”  Heather and Greg shouted in unison, which was kind of cute, but at the moment, I could care less about cute things.

“Shut up, Jocelyn!  Do you have like…”  I paused and mentally calculated in my head how many pain relievers I would need to rid myself of this headache.  “Do you have like ten bottles of Tylenol?  I think that is how much I need; otherwise, I will tear my head off with my own bare hands.”

“Lex, hun, I don’t think you need that many.  Joss give her two…no three Tylenols…or I am afraid she will bite someone’s head off.”  Greg asked Jocelyn, while he soothingly stroked my hair. 

Jocelyn searched through her gargantuan purse, found the pills, and handed me three.  Grateful, I swallowed the pills with the bottle of water Jocelyn held out to me.  As annoying as Jocelyn is she does come in handy at times like these.  She was well-versed in the matters of drunkenness, parties, gossip, and boys...and sex.  If you need any information on any of those topics, Jocelyn is your expert.  Remind me to call her later, since I need her expertise on the later two. 

Compared to Greg’s sweet comforting, Heather was not deterred from her mission of finding out about my wild night with Drake.  Once I had the pain relievers, Heather doggedly demanded answers.  “Since I covered for you, not that I minded covering, but I think I deserve the details…so tell us, your friends, exactly where you were and what you did last night.” 

All three of them were staring at me with eager looks as if they were little hatchlings waiting for their mother bird, which was bringing the worm.  Yes, I am the mother bird and the worm I am to give them is the juicy events of last night.  Letting out a long sigh, I retold the events of last night…well, the events that I remember.  “I went out with Drake, who took me to Club Hell.”  I paused in my retelling, waiting for my three friends to express their disbelief of me going to a 21 and over club.  “Now, as you all know, I have a hangover, which means I was ridiculously drunk last night.  Most of what I remember about last night had to do with Angel’s Tits, bumping and grinding, and…”

The three of them in unison responded, “And what?”

“If I tell you guys, will you leave me alone?”  The three nodded, and I knew I was keeping them in undue suspense.  “All right.  I kissed Drake and sort of straddled him!”  My confession came out in one big breath, so it all sounded like one ridiculously long word.  I could feel myself blushing at the memory of my first kiss and the straddling of his hips.  Of course, my friends each had got something different from my confession. 

“You kissed him!”  Heather exclaimed dreamily with stars in her eyes.

“You straddled him!”  As you can guess, this bit came from my boy crazy friend, Jocelyn.

“Angel’s Tits?”  Confusion clouded Greg’s question, and he was about to ask me exactly what were Angel’s Tits; but (surprisingly, I might add) I was saved by the bell and Mr. Fowler.  Extremely grateful to the bell and Mr. Fowler, I breathed a sigh of relief and settled into my desk, waiting for Mr. Fowler’s torture to begin.

Biology is one of my favorite subjects; nevertheless, Mr. Fowler is my least favorite teacher.  His style of teaching is to humiliate a student, if they got the answer wrong; if you so happen to know the answer, then he would label you a know-it-all.  It was a lose-lose situation for the students; even, Jessica Blunt disliked the teacher…and that is saying something.  Jessica Blunt’s nickname is Miss Teacher’s Pet, so for her to dislike a teacher is monumental.  Mr. Fowler is so awful that he made Jocelyn break out into tears during a class, when she could not tell the difference between anaphase and prophase. 

I reasoned his cruelty was due to not enough hugs from his parents, when he was a child, or because he had been unfortunate enough to have the last name “Fowler”.  In Mr. Fowler’s case, his last name fit, which was probably another reason for his anger.  Maybe Mr. Fowler and I could get a two for one deal with a psychiatrist; hey, we both have issues.  Back to the appropriate naming of my biology teacher, Mr. Fowler was plump like one of those thanksgiving turkeys and had a long, nose that resembled a Toucan’s beak.  There was always a scowl on his face as if he ate something that bothered his digestion system; possibly, he needed to stay away from corn or sauerkraut.  I know from experience how deadly sauerkraut can be: Jared ate a sauerkraut bratwurst dog and the gas he emitted later on was pure noxious fumes.  If the military bottled Jared’s gas, I believe the opposing country would give up after five seconds of inhaling the toxic gas.  Never have I seen Mr. Fowler smile, unless it was from a student’s plight.  Like I said earlier, he is evil incarnate…and he definitely does not like me. 

Mr. Fowler waddled into the room, sat in his upholstered leather chair, and dumped his briefcase onto the desk.  “Class, I am a bit under the weather and I have decided today’s class will be a study hall…”  Several gasps of astonishment erupted from around the room; it was a true life miracle.  “A silent study hall!”  Everyone’s happiness faded knowing they would have to do something productive, or fear the Fowler’s fury.  To me, this was a dream come true.  I was absolutely giddy that I would have at least 45 minutes of silence, knowing the pain relievers would kick in by then.  I would have done a handstand in celebration, but my head was thrumming with pain, and Mr. Fowler would most certainly not approve it.  Fearing Mr. Fowler’s wrath, I pulled out a P.C. Cast novel and began to read, pointedly ignoring my friends’ pleading looks for a note on Drake and the kissing…oh, and the Angel’s Tits. 

Five or so minutes went by in pure bliss of silence, when a violent cough from Mr. Fowler cut the quiet like Zeus’ thunder.  My eyes focused on Mr. Fowler, whose skin had a slick sheen to it that could only be caused by feverish sweat, and I noticed his sickly pallor, which reminded me of my dad.  Another cough rent the air, causing several of the students to jump in alarm.  Fear froze me to my spot.  I have heard that cough before, and it was something that I had spent the last 24 hours trying to forget.  A few students, including Jocelyn, began whispering and pointing at Mr. Fowler, who seemed to be having trouble to catch his breath.  Cough after cough violently erupted from Mr. Fowler, who held an old-fashioned handkerchief to his mouth.  Splotches of blood began to appear on the once white handkerchief.  Other students noticed and began to get up to see if Mr. Fowler needed help of some kind; while others, including myself, sat there in horror, watching our teacher convulse with bloody coughs.  When Mr. Fowler began scratching his throat in attempt to get some air, his shirt sleeves pulled up and I saw the rash and pus-filled blisters.

Chaos ensued as the rasping gurgle for air began.  Students started screaming as Mr. Fowler started to choke and cough up large amounts of blood.  Chairs scraped the floor as students rushed out of the classroom in pure panic.  Greg screamed at some kid named Kurt to run and fetch the principal and other teachers, as he went and knelt at Mr. Fowler’s side.  Jocelyn had been one of the first to escape the classroom; Heather sat by my side, but only because she saw how petrified I was to my seat. Still, I sat frozen to my seat, watching in horror as Mr. Fowler gurgled in his own blood for life-giving oxygen.  I always thought there were two options in situations like this: fight or flight.  Always the oddball, I came up with another option: freeze. 

Seeing as I was hopeless, Heather went to Greg’s side to see if she could help in any way.  My principal, Mr. Morris, rushed in and saw the pandemonium before him.  His skin went pale as he surveyed Mr. Fowler, who was still gasping for breath.  Mr. Morris began to back out of the room and yelled over his shoulder, “I’ll call 911!”  I cannot fault Mr. Morris for his actions, because there I was shocked to my desk, reliving the tragic events of yesterday. 

In the hallway, students were running and screaming, unsure of what to do or where to go…it was pure anarchy; albeit, on a smaller scale.  No one knew what the hell was going on; teachers were rushing around to corral students into classrooms with little success.  I saw a teacher stop by the classroom like Mr. Fowler was some accident scene on the highway.  The passerby teacher stood there lifting a hand to their mouth in what I knew was a helpless gesture; when Mr. Fowler broke out into another round of vicious coughs, the teacher ran away, mimicking the students by running and screaming.  I was slightly jealous of everyone’s ability to do something, whether it be screaming, running, or helping, because I just sat there…useless.

“Get out of the way, Ms. Johnson and Mr. Colton!”  Mrs. Bailey, replacing the useless Mr. Morris, charged into the classroom with several towels in her hand.  Heather and Greg stepped back to allow Mrs. Bailey access to Mr. Fowler.  “Congregate in the auditorium!  Tell all staff and students to meet in the auditorium until the paramedics arrive with help!”  Nodding in agreement, my friends, each grabbed one of my arms and hauled me out of the homeroom of death.

“OMG!  OMG!  OMG!  What the hell just happened?”  Greg freaked, wring his hands in one of his nervous gestures.  In the classroom, he had acted all calm and tranquil, but his defenses dropped and he was just a scared teenager, like anyone else.  No one could fault him for freaking out after what we all just experienced.

“I don’t know…I mean I have never seen anything like that before.  Have you, Lex?”  Whenever in doubt, Heather always looked to me for answers.  I had not told my friends about yesterday’s incident with the dying woman, nor would I.  They did know that my brothers and I were in accident, but they did not know everything that had happened yesterday.  This was impossible!  I have witnessed two deaths in a twenty four hour span; both of them, I could deduce died from the same thing--whatever it was.  Both times, I froze with fear; I was a coward.  How could I look at myself in the mirror again? 

“No, I have never seen anything like that before,” I lied so smoothly that my friends did not notice and went back to freaking out. 

The three of us were making our way to the auditorium, telling students to meet there as we past them in the hall.  Turning the corner, something in the back of my mind told me to look back, which I did.  There, standing in the middle of the hall, was the prophesying girl from the alley, wearing her shades, which obscured her green eyes…eyes that haunted me.  “Hey, I got to go to the bathroom; I think I am going to be sick.”  My friends turned to me at once and were about to follow me to the bathroom, thinking I was going to puke my guts out.  My heart swelled with love for my loyal friends, but this was something I needed to do alone.  “No, you both go to the auditorium; I will be there in a sec!  You do not need or want to be there as I puke up all the wonderful alcohol I had last night.”  How I hated lying to them, but I needed to find out what the girl wanted to warn me against this time.  The looks on their faces spoke volumes, and I could tell they were going to argue that we needed to stay together; but in the end, they relented. 

Retracing my steps to the hallway we had just traversed, I saw the girl, still standing there, in the deserted hallway.  She smiled at me and turned and ran.  I picked up my pace and ran after her out of the school and onto the athletic field and the outlying classrooms and labs.  I saw her take a right at the corner of the science building; I pursued her.  Boy, was I out of shape or what?!  Wind was whipping through my hair as I ran at a pace I was not accustomed to, but I needed to figure out who was this girl.  Her brown hair was like a guiding beacon to me as I saw her whip around corners left and right. The girl had incredible speed and I was gasping for breath, continuing my pursuit for her I took a left at the music building.  She was almost out of my line of sight that was how fast she was running, but her hair beckoned me like a siren enchanting ancient ships.  Again she made a right hand turn at the club building; with a last ditch effort, I picked up my speed, hoping to catch her.  As I turned the corner, I ran straight into a hard body, losing my balance and almost falling to the ground.  A strong hand grabbed my arm to steady me on my feet.

I hunched over with my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath; I thanked the anonymous individual.  “Hey thanks,” I gasped, still out of breath, which was quite embarrassing.

“No problem.”  The voice I most longed to hear answered me…Drake.  “What in the world were you running from?”

I looked up into the handsome, chiseled face of Drake Bradley, and blurted out, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Wagging his index finger at me, Drake said, “No, no, I asked you first.  My mother always reminded me, ‘ladies first’.  I do want to do my mother proud, so you’re up.”  Several sirens wailed in the distance, causing Drake to look up the road to see quite a few ambulances, police cars, and two fire trucks coming towards the school.  “What’s up with that?”

“A teacher just died.”  I looked down and away from his all encompassing gaze, but he lifted my chin up, so our eyes met…our connection sizzled, reminding me of how hot and heavy we were the previous night.

“Seriously?”  I nodded, and he reached out and hugged me.  I felt so safe and secure in his arms that I forgot about the girl I was chasing.  “Are you ok?”

“I’m not sure…but I have to be, I guess.  Drake, what are you doing here?”

“Well, I came here to see if you needed these,” he opened up his hand, which held a bottle of Tylenol.  How sweet could this boy get?  Even though, I have only known him for a few days, I wall falling for him--hard and fast.  “I knew that last night was your first night of drinking, so I assumed you didn’t take any before you went to bed.  I wanted to be your knight-in-designer-Armani again.  Oh, and I…”  He leaned in close in a conspiratorially manner and whispered, “I came here to spring you from your jail and bring you to a secret place.”

I looked at him skeptically and he gave me an angelic smile in return.  “A secret place, huh?”  His angelic smile turned into a devilish grin as he grabbed my hand and brought me to his hoverer.  I hesitated before getting in, afraid of the consequences and of people’s reactions.  What the hell am I doing ditching school?  After everything that had happened, I threw caution and good ole common sense out the window.  I pushed my fear aside and I got into the hoverer with Drake Bradley and said goodbye to my good girl image and everything I knew was right.

#

“You never did answer my question, you know.”  Drake said as he bit into his sausage and pepper gyro from Mario’s Trattoria that we had picked up en route to Ames Long Pond Lake, Drake’s secret place.  Ames Long Pond Lake was beautiful, peaceful, and offered a solitude that I so desperately wanted.  Normalcy from all the crazy, unbelievable events was all I wanted and Drake provided me a haven of sanity and normalcy.  What could be more normal than a boy and girl enjoying each other’s company at the edge of a lily pad covered lake? 

I leaned back against the smooth, cold rock and basked in the sunlight that filtered through the weeping willows, and asked, “And what question would that be?”

Sitting atop of the rock I was leaning on, Drake slid down to sit next to me, brushing the side of his body with mine, such a simple, yet intimate gesture, which made my pulse race.  “At the school, I asked you what you were running from.”

“Oh, that…”  I glanced away from Drake’s penetrating stare and took a bite of my Italian sub (with extra mayo, please!).  Discussing the girl with the green eyes from the alley was not something that I wanted to share with Drake or anyone for that matter, because I would then have to explain my haunting dreams with the boy with green eyes, who was definitely not Drake.  Every single night for the past few days, I was visited by the boy with green eyes, and I felt a connection with him, which was different than my bond with Drake.  Crazy, I know, considering the green-eyed boy is a made up figment of my imagination… But how does that explain the girl, who I have seen two times now?  Shaking my head to clear all thoughts of people with green eyes, I lied to Drake, “Well, I was sort of freaked out by my teacher dying before my eyes.”  It was not a total lie, but it was not the total truth, either.

“That is completely understandable.  I have no idea how I would react to something like that…but when you bumped into me, I could see the fear in your eyes.  Is that all that is bothering you?”  Drake paused in his consumption of his gyro and gave me one of his soul-searching stares, which made my skin tingle as if I was naked under his gaze.  The thought of being naked in front of Drake made my cheeks flame with a vibrant pink.  Under normal circumstances, I would confide everything to Heather; but these things like shame and fear, I did not feel comfortable to tell her.  On the other hand, I felt like I could tell anything and everything to Drake; so I did, with the exceptions of the green-eyed people.  I poured my heart out to him, explaining to him my fears, my shame, and the two deaths I had witnessed.  Patiently with understanding, he listened to me without interrupting, holding my hand through my whole tirade.

“Lex, you expect yourself to be some sort of superhero, who doesn’t fear anything.  Everyone has fears and reacts differently; you can’t blame yourself for how you responded to the situations.”  Drake reprimanded me after I finished my spiel on my feelings.  “You are just a girl, a hot one, I admit, but no one expects you to save the day.  You should stop being so hard on yourself.”

“Drake, the thing is I have always prided myself on being the type of person that organizes fundraisers to feed the homeless and to build schools for underprivileged children.  I try to be the good girl stereotype, which helps anyone and everyone out.  So to see myself respond otherwise is really like a huge letdown…”  I stood up and walked away from Drake, because I never confessed that to anyone.  I scrunched my leggings up, so I could wade in the shallows of the lake.  Tilting my head up to the sun, I closed my eyes and allowed the swirling colors to dance across my eyelids.  “I try to be perfect, Drake.  I admit I have several faults like my impatience, my inability to say the right things at the right time, my potty mouth…I can swear like a drunken sailor, which I am told is quite unattractive, by my mother.  Still, I always like to think of myself better than others, including my friends, Jocelyn and Olivia.  There have been many times, when they came to school wearing their lovers’ clothes from the previous nights’ trysts.  Even though I love my friends, I would always think well I am not s****y, or sleeping around with half of the male population of Oliver Ames High School, like them.  Yet, I am such a hypocrite, when I well you know did the same thing.  I feel horrible for ever thinking that about my friends, but I did think that for awhile.”  I turned to see Drake, who was watching me intensely from his position on the grass.  Instead of his usual rakish smirk, he looked at me somewhat fearful that I was going to ask him to forget what happened between us.  “Last night was so unlike me.  I don’t normally go around dirty dancing, drinking, or straddling guys, but for once I felt normal, like I fit in.  I always walk such a straight and narrow path, which is a huge contrast to my friends and others my age.  My parents raised me to have good morals and values, which are great; but at times, I feel different and distant from everyone else.  Last night, Drake, I had the most fun I ever had in my life and I spent it with you.”  Sloshing my way back to shore, I laid back in the grass next to Drake, who copied me.  There we were lying in the grass, watching the white, fluffy clouds go by.  The wind carried soft scents of wildflowers and Drake’s heady, masculine scent, which could drive a girl crazy.

“You worry too much about what people think about you.  You try too hard to make yourself perfect and what everyone else wants you to be.  Why don’t you just be who you are?  Of course, you will make mistakes, but isn’t that part of growing up?”

I rolled on my side to face Drake, who caressed my face and gently brought my lips to his in a sweet, romantic kiss.  “That is the problem.  I really don’t know who I am, since I have been trying so long to be ‘Miss Goody Two Shoes’.  Except with you, I feel like myself.”

“Lex, why don’t you just forget everyone and the world, and just be?”  I was about to kiss him again, but he jumped up and ran into the lake.  “I bet you can’t catch me!”  Not one to not take a dare, I immediately raced after him, splashing my way into the lake. 

A little while later, we spread ourselves on the grass, allowing the sun to dry our clothes, since Drake dunked us both in the water.  Drake’s hand grabbed mine, and our fingers entwined.  “Here I have been whining all afternoon about my problems, but what about you?”

Drake’s hand went rigid like the Greek statue that I had once thought he resembled.  “What about me do you want to know?”

“Anything!  Tell me anything, everything!”

His hand let go of mine, when he sat up.  “I told you we moved here, because my father transferred to the Boston branch of Lawson Peace International.  The truth is my father asked for a transfer, hoping to start over with my mom.  Both of them have been seeing other people on the side; although, they think I don’t know, but I do.”  Sitting up, I studied Drake’s face as he let me into his world.  A lock of his dark brown hair shaded his warm brown eyes from my view, but I heard the hurt in his voice.  Every part of me wanted to comfort him, but I restrained myself until he was ready for my affections.  I knew he needed to get out his emotions just as I had earlier, so I sat there, patiently listening.  “At night, I would hear them fighting--even breaking things--as they confronted each others’ infidelity.  I guess they reconciled, but my mother started to heavily drink, while my dad scurried around making arrangements for our move.  I know they have other problems, but the one I am aware of is the infidelity.  When I was younger, the three of us were a happy family, but then my mother lost a baby…everything changed.”  Drake took a breath to stabilize his emotions that I could clearly hear.  “My mother lost her will to live, until she found a lover that is; my father blamed my mother for losing their child and began working long hours.  I barely ever saw them, because they sent me away to an all boys’ academy, where I would only come home on holidays and vacations.  Still, when I was home from the academy, they each had their own lives to be bothered with me, so I just said, ‘F**k it!’  Sick of trying to make up for their lost child, I decided I would just be me and have a life without them.”   

An unfamiliar feeling bubbled up inside of me, as I watched this guy that I have come to care about in such a short time.  “How about you take your own advice, and just be?  We can ‘just be’ together, how does that sound?”  His dark eyes lit up and he jumped on top of me and we went rolling down the hill, laughing the entire way.

#

After our frolicking, Drake dropped me off at home around three in the afternoon; he gave me a gentle kiss and told me his usual line, “Call or stalk me, later!”  Walking on air, I entered my house only to be bombarded by my brothers, who were freaking out about the death of Mr. Fowler.  Reality crashed down on me after such a dreamy afternoon, and I was quite resentful towards reality.  I brushed past my brothers to find my father and hug him for just being an awesome dad; also, I hoped he was feeling better.

Knocking on my parents’ door, I heard my father cough, then answer, “Lexxie girl, come in!”  I opened the door, but my steps faltered upon seeing my father sick in bed.  His skin was deathly white and covered in a slick sheen caused by fevers he kept getting.  He opened his arms wide to me; like I was a little girl, I ran into them.  “I heard what happened at school.  I can’t even imagine how horrible that was for you…I do understand why you left school early.”  I had not known that my father knew that little bit of information and I was about to protest saying that I did not.  My father held up a hand to quiet me.  “Heather had gone to Jared asking about your whereabouts.  Your friends were really worried about you; you need to give them a call to let them know you are all right.”  I nodded just glad to have my dad’s arms around me.  I always thought my dad was a superhero like superman or batman, so to see him so sickly truly scared me.

I gave my dad a gentle squeeze of a hug and told him, “Dad, you are so awesome, I love you!”

“I love you too, Lexxie girl, so go fix things with your friends.”  I nodded and left my father, who began another round of coughs as I shut the door.  The doctor diagnosed that my father had pneumonia, but he had to do several more tests to make sure.  I hoped that the doctor figured out what was wrong with my father and gave him the proper medicine for a speedy recovery.

After making a long phone call to my friends, where I apologized at least a hundred times for ditching them (Heather would not forgive me, until I promised an extra big gift for her birthday), I went down to the kitchen to find my mother.  I heard her hoverer pull into the driveway and I wanted to see if I could help her with dinner.  Pots and pans clashed together, and I smiled, knowing my mother was preparing dinner.  As I entered the kitchen, my heart stopped as my mother coughed and coughed.  She went to put a huge cast iron skillet on the electric stove, which caused my mother to fall to her knees.  I ran to my mother and helped her up.  Worrying over her, I asked, “Mom, are you ok?”

“Yeah, Lex, I’m okay.”  She laughed a little, and then continued, “I must have caught whatever your father has, and I just need to get some extra sleep.”

“Go get some sleep then.  I will make dinner.  You have been working yourself so hard, taking care of all of us.  Tonight, I will care for you and dad…and I will bring both of you dinner in bed.”

“Uh oh!  You only cook if you want something.  What do you want?”  My mother placed her hand on her hip, waiting to see what I wanted.  She was only five foot four; she was shorter than me, but I would never ever bet against her.  Short and formidable, like Heather. 

“Oh that hurts, mom!  I, honestly, don’t want anything, but to help you out.”

“What are you going to cook, my little chef?”

“Your favorite: Zuppa Toscana!”  I announced brightly, which caused my mother to smile and laugh.

“All right then, I will leave the kitchen in your capable hands.”  My mother kissed my forehead and stood back to look at me.  “How did I get so lucky to have such an awesome daughter like you?”

Guilt surged up in me as I remembered that I had not been such a good daughter for the past few days.  I attempted a smile, and responded, “Well, it must have been the same place where I got an extra fabulous mom like you!”  My mother’s radiant smile spread across her face as she hugged me before retreating to her bedroom to be with my father and to rest.  My guilt was eating me up about my actions for the last 48 hours; so much so that I definitely did not feel like an “awesome daughter”.  On the one hand, I loved being with Drake; he made me feel so alive, nothing like I ever had the chance to feel before.  On the other hand, I knew that how I acted with Drake was not my usual behavior, and was unlike myself.  How could I reconcile the two without feeling so guilty for having a good time?  Would I ever stop feeling guilty for my ineptitude in not helping Mr. Fowler and the woman?  These questions nagged and bothered me as I cooked dinner for my family, hoping I truly did deserve being called an “awesome daughter”.

Author's Note

A little bit of a back story on Drake, as well as the burgeoning romance between Drake and Alexia. Is he a bad influence or just what she needs? Let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes or discrepancies...and what you thought! Much love to you all who read and review my work!

***The image above is an actual picture of Ames Long Pond (technically it is a lake) from Easton, MA...all places in my story are actually real! I grew up in Easton, and I loved it...it had a small town feel to it; although there are several mansion sized homes...no I didnt live in one; I wish. Easton, MA is a very scenic town that I hope to live again, someday soon!

Reviews

[r.r. krueck]

"Groan! As much as I love my bestie, I knew she was about to talk my ear off, so I groaned." - was this repetitive or were you justifying the groan?

"...as she announced to anyone in the vicinity of my hung over state." - this sentence seemed a little garbled. Perhaps some re-wording is needed here.

"Tylenols" - I believe the plural of Tylenol is Tylenol. Give her two Tylenol. Yea, sounds right.

"drunkenness, parties, gossip, and boys...and sex." - Should probably remove the 'and' before boys.

"All three of them were staring at me with eager looks as if they were little hatchlings waiting for their mother bird, which was bringing the worm. Yes, I am the mother bird and the worm I am to give them is the juicy events of last night. " - good imagery

" It was a lose-lose situation for the students; even, Jessica Blunt disliked the teacher" - not sure on the use of the comma after 'even' here.

"turkeys and had a long, nose that resembled a Toucan’s beak" - don't need to capitalize 'toucan' in this case.

"If the military bottled Jared’s gas, I believe the opposing country would give up after five seconds of inhaling the toxic gas. Never have I seen Mr. Fowler smile, unless it was from a student’s plight. " - the transition between senteneces here left me a little jolted.

"“OMG! OMG! OMG! What the hell just happened?” Greg freaked, wring his hands in one of his nervous gestures. " - is he actually saying OH EM GEE here? also wring should be 'wringing'

"“No, I have never seen anything like that before,” I lied so smoothly that my friends did not notice and went back to freaking out.
The three of us were making our way to the auditorium" - another jolted transition

-The scene where Mr. Fowler gets sick was great. I could place myself in one of the desks and be there as it happened. Good Job!

" I went down to the kitchen to find my mother. I heard her hoverer pull into the driveway and I wanted to see if I could help her with dinner. Pots and pans clashed together, and I smiled, knowing my mother was preparing dinner. As I entered the kitchen," - a little confused here statements seem out of order, or perhaps transitions are confusing.

---I know you have given me several review requests but I hope the feedback here helps for all of them. The major thing I noticed was some small grammatical errors and what was mentioned above. I love how well Lex is fleshed out and how genuine some of her teenage emotions are. Keep it up!

[Celeste]

LOL! Vanessa, you've got French nerves to ask me for a review, because I old enough to be your grandmother, and I haven't even been near a highschool within the span of your lifetime, although it never changes, does it? The only things that change in highschool are the clothes, the hairstyles, the fads and the music. Everything else stays the same. My chemistry teacher once said, “Abortion should be made legal until a child’s 25th birthday.”

So here goes: This story does have entertainment value but there are a number of things I suggest you should change (I know, it IS just me).

1) Please don't write in the first-person-singular. It seems that every highschool student, who asks me to review their work, has written it in the first-person-singular, and every one of these pieces about their highschool adventures seem leave an impression on me as if I were reading some student's private diary. It’s one of the biggest things which make these types of work unappealing at first glance. (It stands out like a sore thumb.) That’s because I find it hard to differentiate between Vanessa Rico and the main character. This sounds very harsh of me, but when you think about all the novels you’ve ever read in your life, very few of them were ever written in the first-person-singular. Besides, this is an easiest thing for you to change, and it will make ALL THE difference in the world. Really, if you're serious about this story, please try it! Your story has merit. Your vocabulary is superior, but nobody (in my opinion) is really "that into" reading teenage diaries, and if you change your pronouns and verbs then it will make the story at least 50% more appealing. I’m only telling you this to be nice. If you send it to a lit agent, then will send you back an email (if they even bother) which says, “Sorry this isn’t for us”, and won’t even sign their name. Then you will wonder what’s wrong with it forever and a day.

2) Your sentence structure is "jolty" or "jagged". I have the very same problem myself, which means that I have changed my editing patterns lately, to re-read each paragraph at least five times to see how the sentences flow. I no longer just madly type away and try to re-edit it later.

It's hard to describe what I mean, so I'll give you an example. Take a look at your first paragraph again. You wrote about a teacher your character cannot stand, then talk about this person's hangover, and then about the embarrassing behaviour of the mother, then go on further down the page in other paragraphs to describe the hated teacher again. You see what I mean? The concepts are jumping around. Why don't you describe the illness, then the ride to school, AND THEN get to Mr Evil Science Teacher? If you do it this way, it's not redundant, and it flows in a logical story pattern.

3) I only found out about this recently. Never use the word "as" when hooking two action sentences together. Action is fast and comes in "blasts", so make shorter sentences. Instead of:
"Students started screaming as Mr. Fowler started to choke and cough up large amounts of blood. Chairs scraped the floor as students rushed out of the classroom in pure panic."

Write:
"Students started screaming. Mr. Fowler was choking and coughing up large amounts of blood. With a wild scraping of chairs against the floor, students rushed out of the classroom in pure panic."

In the book I read it said that "as" slows down the action flow, and I think the author knew what he was talking about.

4) You have to be careful with slang language. Remember if this is science fiction, then you have to create "fake slang", that teenagers in the future will supposedly be using, and not use slang that you use yourself. Imagine if you replaced every "awesome" with "groovy"! Wouldn't your friends being laughing themselves sick over this? So you either must eliminate all of the slang and profanity, or come up with new terms no one has ever heard of to be consistent. If you want to find out how dated it can make a novel, just read Upton Sinclair's "Babbit". He used the slang of the 1920's. Then you can see how strange it sounds a century later.

5) Dialogue is a plot vehicle. It must do one of two things: either it builds tension between characters or it moves the story forward. If it is not doing one of those things then it’s useless. Be mean to yourself! Review all of the things your characters say to each other and ask yourself if it’s idle chit-chat or the dialogue is there on purpose and is doing something for your story. If they are just shooting the breeze, and you added it for “flavour”, delete it! (Yes, I hated being told this too!)

[A.E. Surdam]

Very nice. I love all the details you wrote into the story line. It was very interesting and caught my attention right as I started reading it. Can't wait for the next chapter!

[Crystal Kelly]

Vanessa this is really good!!! I really enjoyed the story line!!! There were some grammatical errors. I am a stickler on grammar. I am an English Major. This chapter is a very easy read so to the naked eye the grammatical errors are not so obvious. A good website to help you out in grammar when doing your final edit is http://www.chompchomp.com. I will definitely have to go back and read the previous chapters.

[Gone]

you have me so hooked!! this is an amazing read!

[Patches I'm not so new..]

I liked this however I am no grammarian so I will pass on that part The story is interesting in that in my time as a teen we never worried about such things as being an awesome daughter or son we were what we were. teens. Oh we knew it all and our parents were dumb but boy did they teach us!
Of course I grew up in what may today be considered a "golden age" the late forties and the fifties of the previous century. The protaganest in this story seems to be a normal teen and it seems that her head is on stright as for Drake, It seems he too is going to be an alright adult although he does have a problem concerning his parents which he may or may not be able to handle that remains to be seen all in all this is interesting but for some reason I don't know what or why the problems of these characters seem superfulious The persons in this story seem to actors performing a play not real life more like "an imatation of life."

[brenda]

its reallly good !!!:)

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A captivating and real story, a relevant and touching center piece of ruling emotion, well done, good read.

[Alicia Hirshey]

This is really good. I'm going to have to read this from the beginning=] you drug me into the story with the first sentence! i can't wait to read the next chapter.