His "Sister"

Chapter 11: Poetry & Familiar faces

"Where were you last week? Vacation? You're not even tan."

"Are those hickeys on your neck *giggle* *giggle*?"

"Is it true that you and Ryan are dating?!!"

Oh school, this is why I didn't miss you . . . like at all. I swear, people have been coming up to me all morning with their ridiculous questions. Maybe they would shut up if I said, "Nahh these aren't hickeys they're bruises from my dad tried to strangle me to death. Yeah, talk about an awkward moment."

Who knows, though, most people would assume I'm lying to them.

I walk into English, finally I "can't answer questions" anymore. That's such a relief.

"Good morning children, today we are going to be writing poems-" Mrs. Tucker announces, and is briefly cut off by groans. Poetry honestly sucks, I hate writing it so much. Being mushy about my feelings just isn't my style.

Please be itty bitty poems, or something short and simple. I COULD WRITE A POEM ABOUT MICROWAVES! A haiku of sorts, it could go like this.

Microwaves are really fun

Milk doesn't grow on trees, MOO

I'm not a poet.

Damn it, I'd fail if I submitted that.

"Now boys and girls, this poem will be about love." The condescending voice finishes speaking.

That's not so hard- WAIT A SECOND, A LOVE POEM?

I bravely raise my hand, "Mrs.Tucker, does it have to be about loving a person? Could it be about loving something else . . .?" Like a microwave maybe.

"Yes, sweetie." Jeez, she acts like my hair is in pigtails and I still don't know my ABC'S. I sort of want to punch her in the face.

The class goes quietly off to writing their stupid love poems, and I think of ways to avoid this. I could pull the fire alarm? No too risky. Hmm, I could say my injuries hurt . . . but then again everyone thinks I was on vacation.

GOD COMING UP WITH EXCUSES IS HARD!!! Heehee, hard. Wow I'm such a twelve year old. I better not tell that to Ryan, or he might beat me up.

My mind lingers to Ashton and Ryan, my feelings for them, I put my pencil to the paper, hoping the perfect words will come. Yeah, I'll just wait until I think of things to write, and until then I'll stare into space. Sounds like a good plan to me. Who should the poem be about, Ashton or Ryan? I've loved Ashton since- well- a while, plus he's sweet, kind, funny, and attractive. Ryan is mysterious, alluring, and strong. He saved my life before, too. Which I count as a bonus.

Suddenly, it comes to me. I'll write something so vague, yet so specific nobody will know who it's about.

I search my closet

For something cute

Something sexy.

Something I wish to be,

An outfit that will make you

Want me.

I smile extra brightly,

Just in case you were ever to look my way

Hope is in my eyes

I wish you knew,

That I feel butterflies around you,

Ones that make me vulnerable and blushy

But there's nothing I can do,

To stop stumbling and falling,

Feeling ever so slightly,

Like I might love you

So do me a favor,

And please feel the same way.

I go over my work and check to make sure I didn't mention ANY NAMES WHAT SO EVER. For good measure, I draw tiny hearts at the bottom corners of poem. Boom, I'm done.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIINGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!

As I leave, I drop it off in the bin, and Mrs. I-treat-teenagers-like-babies smiles in approval.

"I can tell this is going to be good, Emerson." She says, and I just shrug. My poem is okay, I guess. I just make it out the door, and another curious person is in my face, wondering where I was.

Yay.

"I wasn't on vacation, and yeah, I know I'm pale." I tell the girl with bright red hair, she seems strangely familiar. Who does she remind me of? I strut off leaving her standing there, or so I thought.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, bitch?" She snarls.

Okay, now the familiar red head has caught my attention.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Cause you must be a damn air-head if you can't tell that I don't want to deal with your shit. I've got enough of my own." I snap back.

"Look, you shouldn't have been such a bitch to my cousin, Charles. He has liked you for such a long time and you don't even care. Then you go out like a little whore, and flirt with a billion other guys, while he can see."

Huh? "Oh whoops, the flirting thing, in front of him was legit unintentional. I feel bad for being cruel, but he really creeps me out like a lot. Last year, Charles sat behind me in math class and I ALWAYS CAUGHT HIM SNIFFING MY HAIR!! He follows me everywhere, NEVER goes away, and then says awkward things."

Her face softens as she sighs, "Wow. He left that part out. I swear that boy has issues, and will never find love if he lurks in the shadows. To be honest, I can't stand him. Did he use the "princess" and "milady" lines on you?"

I nod vigorously, "Yeah. It was life scarring and I was super uncomfortable. If you don't like Charles, why did you do such a good job of defending him, and sounding intimidating?"

"Oh, that's an easy answer: No one fucks with my family. I'm Melanie by the way." She smiles at me.

"I'm Emerson." I introduce myself, but can't find anything else to say.

"You seem like best friend material. Wanna hang out after school?" Melanie offers, making me grin.

"THAT SOUNDS AWESOME!! Can we hang out at your house?" Maybe I can actually make a friend for once. I mean my old friends bailed, so why not?

"I can hear you all the way down the hallway, Emerson. So tell me, what sounds awes-AAAAACHOO!" Ryan covers his nose just in time, after appearing out OF THIN AIR!! Or more likley, he came from his past class.

"Bless you! Melanie and I are gonna hang out after school." I smile at him.

"Yeah, we became friends after cursing eachother out." Melanie chirps.

"That's grea- AAAACHOO! AAACHO! ACHOO!" He sneezes befor he can finish what he was saying.

"I think you're getting a cold, Ryan. Are you going to be able to go to our double date on Friday? Cause I can tell Skylar it's not happening." I glance at him, feeling pity for both him and I. Him, since it sounds like he's becoming sick, and me, since my first date might not happen.

Ugh, this sucks for both of us.

"YOU TWO ARE GOING ON A DATE!! I'M SOO DOING YOUR MAKE-UP!" Loud cheers erupt from Melanie.

Ryan's about to wipe his nose on his sleeve. when I hand him a tissue. "Thanks Em, don't be worried, we'll have our double date. Everything will be fine."

I give him a "Are you sure?" look and he nods. "Then promise me you'll go home and rest up."

"I pinky promise." I give him a great big hug, "You're the best, Ryan."

"AWWW YOU TWO ARE A CUTE COUPLE!!!" Melanie coos, as we all depart to our next classes.