Gummy Bears (on hold)

ii. The Modern Love Story of Romeo and Julio

Hi guys! This is back after 6 months. Gosh, I know I'm a bitch but my brother didn't let me use his account and I rarely had time until now that I have this account which he no longer uses. So I'm coping, and little by little knowing how this works. Don't worry, I'll try to write as consistently as I could.

Updates may be weekly, every Sunday.

P.S., I'm sorry to those who read the icomplete version of this update which was up for a few hours. I'm using Wattpad Beta, and while the format is great, it just does stuff like that.

- Celine

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    It was like the start of a chick flick; two girly girls with high-pitched shrieks who happened to be besties forever on an exclusive shoot because they won a contest and they got to share a trailer and gossip all night about the hot guys. There was only three things that was wrong about that chick flick comparison: one, we weren't besties, and I'm definitely not girly; two, Charlie was just a little brat that got the perk because of her snobby, rich aunt and I had a job to stick with; three, we certainly  weren't gossiping about hot guys and enjoying ourselves. Well, the last one seemed to be one-sided. Charlie was having the time of her life annoying the fuck out of me.

    "You know that song that always plays on the radio about giving a kitten to a girl? It goes like na-na-nuh, then a high pitched na-na-na-na-nuh, then more na-na-nuhs? What was the title of that again?"

    "Have you seen my book with Lauren Oliver in the cover? I swear I placed it beside your pillow..."

    "There's this guy at my school who looks exactly like you. Except he's blond. And he's taller. And he could play the sax. Plus he always calls everyone 'bub',"

    "Can I get the top bunk? I want to look outside in the middle of the night. Then again, that would be creepy if I see something. Like one of those bear-like things I read in one of Aunt Meredith's daughter's books. I think it's called Chewbucca or something. You know what? I'll take the bottom bunk,"

    "Are you gay?"

    "Can you please just stop talking?" I half-shouted. She has probably asked me about sixteen questions for the past half hour and even if I didn't answer, she just kept asking as if one-sided conversations provided some kind of comfort.

    She paused for a minute before muttering, "Okay, one more thing; where do you put the butter knives?"

  I groaned and raised my head up from the book I was reading. "Left side of the sink, second drawer,"

"Okay," she said softly.

For the next hour, it was complete silence. Not the kind of silence I wanted, though. It was the kind of silence that ate you up. Charlie ate her sandwich across me, chewing slowly and as quietly as possible. She kept her eyes from looking at me; she was just either looking at her feet or the small, foldable table. It added awkward tension. Guilt was building up in me, for the freak-out earlier. It shouldn't even be a big deal, but it seemed like Charlie took it seriously and really did shut up. And even if that was what I wanted, I didn't want her to handle it like that.

I groaned and shut my book loudly, making her look up at me. "I'm sorry, okay? Now stop that... thing you're doing,"

"Alrighty!" She grinned, and I swear I could see the enthusiasm in her eyes again. If she had a tail, it would be moving from side to side at high speed.

"Tell me, do all Brits have to be as wired as you are all the time?" I said rhetorically, making the weird squinting face.

"Oh, I don't know, I'm not British,"