Post by grey scale: on Dec 5, 2011 21:34:21 GMT -5
“Katherine!” I heard Mom shout up the stairs to me, and a few minutes later she showed up at my door, carrying yet another box. “This would be your books,” she said, making a noise as she put it on top of my computer desk.
I nodded and smiled. “Thanks,” I said, and she gave me a one-armed hug.
“We’re going to love it here,” she said, patting my head gingerly. I nodded and smiled as much as I could, and she sighed. “No need to be sarcastic, Kat.” I just grinned in response, and she rolled her eyes. “I’m going to finish unpacking,” she said, walking out of my room and down the stairs again.
About seven o’clock that night, Mom and I were on the couch watching Tv. We’d gotten everything put up and set up way faster than we’d realized, with the mover’s help. Everything was in its place in every room in the house, except for the laundry room. We’d decided we were going to that room tomorrow and relax the rest of the night.
When the doorbell rang, I was the one to answer the door. There was a girl about my age there, wearing a Madina Lake band tee shirt and black skinny jeans, her wavy brown hair past her shoulders, rainbow colors streaking through the strands. “Hey,” she said, waving excitedly. “I’m Dizzy.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Why… are you… dizzy?”
She laughed, dismissing that. “Dizzy’s my name. Like my actually name. The name my mom gave me at birth and all that jazz. It isn’t a nickname. Or an adjective. It’s my name,” she was smiling widely now, her hands clasped together in front of her and she bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. “Since you’re new, I was wondering if you wanted to go to a party tonight. Meet some people?”
I shifted uncomfortably. I’m not exactly the ‘party’ type. I’m actually the ‘sit in the corner, reading a book and playing my iPod as loud as possible to drown out the bad music’ type. I bit my lip, turning to Mom. She smiled. “Go on, it’ll be fun. You need some fun, Kat.” I sighed. Somehow, Mom and I had differing opinions about my life as a teenager. I wanted to be abnormal, anti-social, and quiet. She wanted me to have fun, learn from my mistakes, and not be so uptight.
I think I like my opinion better. But that’s just my opinion.
About an hour later, after Dizzy and Mom ambushed me and ‘got me ready’ for this so-called party, I stood in front of a two-story house, with teenagers strewn all over the yard holding red plastic cups, the front door open. You could see even more people inside. I took a deep breath, nervous. No doubt Dizzy would make me participate in at least dancing, and trust me, that’s not a good idea. I’ve not just two left feet, I’m so bad at dancing I have three.
Dizzy smiled at me encouragingly, and I grimaced back. She’d made me put on make-up. I hate make-up. I’d only allowed eyeliner and mascara, though; none of that power or concealer crap. She did make the eyeliner a little too thick for my liking, anyway. She grabbed her wrist and started pulling me into the house.
She tried to introduce me to some people, most of them either slutty-looking girls in too-short skirts or guys wearing polo shirts and flip flops that make them look like a wannabe Frat boy. A few of them were wearing skinny jeans like Dizzy and myself, and they were the ones that didn’t make me want to either hang myself or throw up from the too-strong scent of their cheap perfume and cologne.
When Dizzy told me their names, her words sort of floated out through the crowd. The music was so loud; I couldn’t hear her even though she was shouting. Finally, we stopped walking when she reached the kitchen. There was a keg on a wooden stepping stool beside the island counter, with multiple jocks around it, shouting drunkenly at each other. God, it’s only nine and they’re already drunk? Classy guys, really.
There were some not-so drunk shouts from the living room, and the music stopped momentarily. “Holy shit!” I heard a girl scream, and then some laughing. I craned my neck to see a bleach-blond head moving through the different people to get to the kitchen. Everyone parted to let them through. I raised an eyebrow when I realized who it was, as he broke through the crowd and made his way to the keg.
Dizzy squealed, gripping my arm tightly. “Oh, my God! I forgot to tell you!” I looked at her like I was questioning her intelligence, and she sighed. She shook her head. I love getting that reaction out of people. “That’s Tom Felton,” she squealed again, pointing at him. He glanced at her and smiled, and she practically swooned. “God, he’s so fucking hot.”
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t believe in treating actors and actresses any different than normal people. Because that’s all they were, people. His gaze moved from Dizzy to me, and I made sure to look anywhere but at him. At the molding on the ceiling, the ground, the marble countertops. Dizzy waved at Tom and I rolled my eyes again, turning away. I started towards the back of the house, having no desire to drink alcohol or do anything else that was illegal. I also didn’t really feel like pushing the drunken guys off of me, because I could tell they were starting to get seriously out of control.
I walked to the backyard. There were a few patio chairs, stained a dark redwood color. They had floral seat cushions on them, little bow-ties keeping them attached to it. I sat on one chair and tilted my head back, staying like that until I heard the backdoor open and close. I turned my head to see Tom standing there, glancing from me to the sky, which is where I returned my gaze to after realizing it was him.
He walked slowly forward and sat in one of the other chairs and looked up as well, but then he looked at me. He turned sideways in the chair and held out a hand to me. “Tom,” he said. I had to admit; the accent was adorable. But how was I to judge it? I always did have a soft spot for British accents.
I smiled and little and held mine out as well, shaking his hand. “Kat,” I said. It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it’d be at first. But after we shook a few times, he didn’t let go of my hand immediately and I blushed when he looked at me. He stood, which brought me to a standing position in turn. He started back to the house, intertwining our fingers all the way. I panicked. What was he doing?
He opened the backdoor and gently pulled me along as he made his way to the fridge. He opened it and bent down, grabbing two sodas. He chuckled at my raised eyebrow when he stood back up straight. I smiled and shook my head when he held one out to me and I took it. He grabbed my hand again and brought me back into the heart of the party.
It was eleven thirty before Dizzy even bothered to start looking for me. Of course, she found me on the living room couch, holding my third soda of the night, talking to Tom. We’d been here throughout the party, and I felt a little bad. Maybe he actually wanted to drink and dance and flirt like everyone else here? Though, he hadn’t even looked away from me the entire time, or acted like he was bored or wanted to get away. After all, he is the one who came after me.
Dizzy squealed loudly yet again, running up to the back of the couch, her hands gripping the cushion fiercely. “Uh, uh, uh,” she said, glancing quickly from Tom to me, then back again. I think she was, in essence, about to be ‘dizzy’. Ha ha, bad joke. “Kat? Ready to go? My curfew was, like, an hour ago so I think we should beat it.”
I looked at Tom, and smiled. “I obviously have to go,” I said, and saw him nodding.
He turned as best he could to look at Dizzy. “She’ll be right out, Diz,” he said, smiling at her. When he turned his back, she gave me a thumbs up and practically fell of the front door. I was both questioning her intelligence, and wondering how many beers she’d had tonight. Tom looked back at me and grinned. “You’re not going to make me come up with a bad pun to get you to give me your phone number are you?”
I giggled quietly and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe. Let’s see what you’ve got first?”
He pretended like he was thinking. “Hm… well, ‘I lost my number, can I have yours,’ is one of those just really stupid, desperate sounding ones… so nix, on that one… And then there’s always-“
I laughed, interrupting him. “Alright, alright, I’ll give you my number, gees,” I said, still laughing as I looked around in my purse for something to write with and on. I only found a pen. “Crap,” I said, pouting. He chuckled and held out the palm of his hand. I hit my forehead as if to say, “Duh.”
I smiled as I wrote my number on his palm. “There you go,” I said, grinning.
He smiled and me as he stood, as did I. He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I’ll text you,” he said, moving away from me. I nodded and half-smirked as he walked out the front door. As soon as he was out and probably driving away, a red-faced Dizzy came rushing in, grabbing my arm and started to her car.
“Okay, we seriously have to get going,” she said, slinging her purse over her shoulder, “but first,” she paused and turned to me, obviously very excited. “Tom FREAKING Felton spent the ENTIRE NIGHT with you, Katherine,” she screeched, giggling ecstatically. She clapped her hands and jumped up and down. She really needed to lay off the hard liquor.
I bit my lip, amused none the less. “Are you completely sober, Dizzy?” I asked, knowing the answer.
She giggled again, swaying slightly. She handed me the keys and shook her head. “Not at all, my friend. Not at all.”
I lay in bed, exhausted even thought I’d spent the whole night on a couch, talking. I’d changed into my pajamas immediately upon my arrival home; Mom was asleep in her room, obviously not worried about the fact I was responsible enough to get home safely. Thank God that I was.
I was about to go to sleep, thinking about how much fun I’d actually had talking with Tom tonight. I was surprised by how alike we were. Sort of shy, reserved. Not really the party type. I could only be thankful that it was his friend’s party; otherwise, he wouldn’t have even been there. I was almost drifting off when I heard my phone vibrate on my dresser. I stood and got up to see what it was, having an idea. I bet you’re thinking of me. –Tom
I laughed quietly, so as not to wake Mom up as I replied.
I bet you’re right.
I nodded and smiled. “Thanks,” I said, and she gave me a one-armed hug.
“We’re going to love it here,” she said, patting my head gingerly. I nodded and smiled as much as I could, and she sighed. “No need to be sarcastic, Kat.” I just grinned in response, and she rolled her eyes. “I’m going to finish unpacking,” she said, walking out of my room and down the stairs again.
About seven o’clock that night, Mom and I were on the couch watching Tv. We’d gotten everything put up and set up way faster than we’d realized, with the mover’s help. Everything was in its place in every room in the house, except for the laundry room. We’d decided we were going to that room tomorrow and relax the rest of the night.
When the doorbell rang, I was the one to answer the door. There was a girl about my age there, wearing a Madina Lake band tee shirt and black skinny jeans, her wavy brown hair past her shoulders, rainbow colors streaking through the strands. “Hey,” she said, waving excitedly. “I’m Dizzy.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Why… are you… dizzy?”
She laughed, dismissing that. “Dizzy’s my name. Like my actually name. The name my mom gave me at birth and all that jazz. It isn’t a nickname. Or an adjective. It’s my name,” she was smiling widely now, her hands clasped together in front of her and she bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. “Since you’re new, I was wondering if you wanted to go to a party tonight. Meet some people?”
I shifted uncomfortably. I’m not exactly the ‘party’ type. I’m actually the ‘sit in the corner, reading a book and playing my iPod as loud as possible to drown out the bad music’ type. I bit my lip, turning to Mom. She smiled. “Go on, it’ll be fun. You need some fun, Kat.” I sighed. Somehow, Mom and I had differing opinions about my life as a teenager. I wanted to be abnormal, anti-social, and quiet. She wanted me to have fun, learn from my mistakes, and not be so uptight.
I think I like my opinion better. But that’s just my opinion.
About an hour later, after Dizzy and Mom ambushed me and ‘got me ready’ for this so-called party, I stood in front of a two-story house, with teenagers strewn all over the yard holding red plastic cups, the front door open. You could see even more people inside. I took a deep breath, nervous. No doubt Dizzy would make me participate in at least dancing, and trust me, that’s not a good idea. I’ve not just two left feet, I’m so bad at dancing I have three.
Dizzy smiled at me encouragingly, and I grimaced back. She’d made me put on make-up. I hate make-up. I’d only allowed eyeliner and mascara, though; none of that power or concealer crap. She did make the eyeliner a little too thick for my liking, anyway. She grabbed her wrist and started pulling me into the house.
She tried to introduce me to some people, most of them either slutty-looking girls in too-short skirts or guys wearing polo shirts and flip flops that make them look like a wannabe Frat boy. A few of them were wearing skinny jeans like Dizzy and myself, and they were the ones that didn’t make me want to either hang myself or throw up from the too-strong scent of their cheap perfume and cologne.
When Dizzy told me their names, her words sort of floated out through the crowd. The music was so loud; I couldn’t hear her even though she was shouting. Finally, we stopped walking when she reached the kitchen. There was a keg on a wooden stepping stool beside the island counter, with multiple jocks around it, shouting drunkenly at each other. God, it’s only nine and they’re already drunk? Classy guys, really.
There were some not-so drunk shouts from the living room, and the music stopped momentarily. “Holy shit!” I heard a girl scream, and then some laughing. I craned my neck to see a bleach-blond head moving through the different people to get to the kitchen. Everyone parted to let them through. I raised an eyebrow when I realized who it was, as he broke through the crowd and made his way to the keg.
Dizzy squealed, gripping my arm tightly. “Oh, my God! I forgot to tell you!” I looked at her like I was questioning her intelligence, and she sighed. She shook her head. I love getting that reaction out of people. “That’s Tom Felton,” she squealed again, pointing at him. He glanced at her and smiled, and she practically swooned. “God, he’s so fucking hot.”
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t believe in treating actors and actresses any different than normal people. Because that’s all they were, people. His gaze moved from Dizzy to me, and I made sure to look anywhere but at him. At the molding on the ceiling, the ground, the marble countertops. Dizzy waved at Tom and I rolled my eyes again, turning away. I started towards the back of the house, having no desire to drink alcohol or do anything else that was illegal. I also didn’t really feel like pushing the drunken guys off of me, because I could tell they were starting to get seriously out of control.
I walked to the backyard. There were a few patio chairs, stained a dark redwood color. They had floral seat cushions on them, little bow-ties keeping them attached to it. I sat on one chair and tilted my head back, staying like that until I heard the backdoor open and close. I turned my head to see Tom standing there, glancing from me to the sky, which is where I returned my gaze to after realizing it was him.
He walked slowly forward and sat in one of the other chairs and looked up as well, but then he looked at me. He turned sideways in the chair and held out a hand to me. “Tom,” he said. I had to admit; the accent was adorable. But how was I to judge it? I always did have a soft spot for British accents.
I smiled and little and held mine out as well, shaking his hand. “Kat,” I said. It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it’d be at first. But after we shook a few times, he didn’t let go of my hand immediately and I blushed when he looked at me. He stood, which brought me to a standing position in turn. He started back to the house, intertwining our fingers all the way. I panicked. What was he doing?
He opened the backdoor and gently pulled me along as he made his way to the fridge. He opened it and bent down, grabbing two sodas. He chuckled at my raised eyebrow when he stood back up straight. I smiled and shook my head when he held one out to me and I took it. He grabbed my hand again and brought me back into the heart of the party.
It was eleven thirty before Dizzy even bothered to start looking for me. Of course, she found me on the living room couch, holding my third soda of the night, talking to Tom. We’d been here throughout the party, and I felt a little bad. Maybe he actually wanted to drink and dance and flirt like everyone else here? Though, he hadn’t even looked away from me the entire time, or acted like he was bored or wanted to get away. After all, he is the one who came after me.
Dizzy squealed loudly yet again, running up to the back of the couch, her hands gripping the cushion fiercely. “Uh, uh, uh,” she said, glancing quickly from Tom to me, then back again. I think she was, in essence, about to be ‘dizzy’. Ha ha, bad joke. “Kat? Ready to go? My curfew was, like, an hour ago so I think we should beat it.”
I looked at Tom, and smiled. “I obviously have to go,” I said, and saw him nodding.
He turned as best he could to look at Dizzy. “She’ll be right out, Diz,” he said, smiling at her. When he turned his back, she gave me a thumbs up and practically fell of the front door. I was both questioning her intelligence, and wondering how many beers she’d had tonight. Tom looked back at me and grinned. “You’re not going to make me come up with a bad pun to get you to give me your phone number are you?”
I giggled quietly and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe. Let’s see what you’ve got first?”
He pretended like he was thinking. “Hm… well, ‘I lost my number, can I have yours,’ is one of those just really stupid, desperate sounding ones… so nix, on that one… And then there’s always-“
I laughed, interrupting him. “Alright, alright, I’ll give you my number, gees,” I said, still laughing as I looked around in my purse for something to write with and on. I only found a pen. “Crap,” I said, pouting. He chuckled and held out the palm of his hand. I hit my forehead as if to say, “Duh.”
I smiled as I wrote my number on his palm. “There you go,” I said, grinning.
He smiled and me as he stood, as did I. He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I’ll text you,” he said, moving away from me. I nodded and half-smirked as he walked out the front door. As soon as he was out and probably driving away, a red-faced Dizzy came rushing in, grabbing my arm and started to her car.
“Okay, we seriously have to get going,” she said, slinging her purse over her shoulder, “but first,” she paused and turned to me, obviously very excited. “Tom FREAKING Felton spent the ENTIRE NIGHT with you, Katherine,” she screeched, giggling ecstatically. She clapped her hands and jumped up and down. She really needed to lay off the hard liquor.
I bit my lip, amused none the less. “Are you completely sober, Dizzy?” I asked, knowing the answer.
She giggled again, swaying slightly. She handed me the keys and shook her head. “Not at all, my friend. Not at all.”
I lay in bed, exhausted even thought I’d spent the whole night on a couch, talking. I’d changed into my pajamas immediately upon my arrival home; Mom was asleep in her room, obviously not worried about the fact I was responsible enough to get home safely. Thank God that I was.
I was about to go to sleep, thinking about how much fun I’d actually had talking with Tom tonight. I was surprised by how alike we were. Sort of shy, reserved. Not really the party type. I could only be thankful that it was his friend’s party; otherwise, he wouldn’t have even been there. I was almost drifting off when I heard my phone vibrate on my dresser. I stood and got up to see what it was, having an idea. I bet you’re thinking of me. –Tom
I laughed quietly, so as not to wake Mom up as I replied.
I bet you’re right.