PDA

View Full Version : Original Fiction: A Tale That Wasn't Right (Two)



Daenerys
09-11-2006, 09:53 PM
Chapter Two: Gwen’s POV



”What’s wrong?” He asked. I looked at him confusedly, and handed him my schedule.

“If you can make heads or tails of that, you win.” I shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t ask what he won. Because it wasn’t going to be jack.

“Oh. Hey! You share my last two classes with me!” He said enthusiastically. Boy, Canadians were weird.

“Well I guess that’s all fine and dandy… But what the hell is my next class?” He gave me back my schedule.

“AP English. All AP classes are just numbers.” He said, as he led me towards the English wing.

“I’m in AP English?” I asked shocked. I had never excelled in anything before in my life. “Wow…!” Maybe Canadians were insanely dumb, and I was going to be president! I giggled to myself.

“Obviously” He grinned at me. “Man, it’s going to be great having you in a class with me.” I just looked at him funny.

“You’re finding my company anything less than annoying?” I asked, as we reached the classroom. It’s really hard to believe he doesn’t think I’m a nutcase already. But you know, there’s a few more hours left in the school day.

“I’m finding you to be a lot of things.” He smiled shyly at me. I just giggled more. This kid was something alright. “But not annoying…” He added a few seconds later.

Trent’s POV

Man, she was amazing. I couldn’t stop staring at her as she wrote her autobiography. I wondered if she’d let me read it? The teacher rapped my desk and I started on my English paper again. But all I could think about was her. What kind of life did she lead back in California? God, she was so beautiful. I wonder if… No… Don’t even think like that, of course she wouldn’t…

Gwen’s POV

‘Why was he staring at me?’ I asked myself as I scribbled away on my autobiography. The teacher struck his desk with a ruler, and I tried not to laugh as he hurriedly started back on his work. I was trying to make myself look like a total church mice in my paper… But that’s hard to do when your parents decided to move to Canada mainly because you’re a giant mess up and they were tired of switching school districts. Maybe I shouldn’t sugar coat it, see if the teacher had a heart attack. I was still pondering this when the bell rang. I closed my notebook and put my pen away. The teacher told everyone their homework. I didn’t bother writing it down, I had been through enough schools to know English teachers. I’m sure Canada isn’t that different.

“Gwen?” The teacher asked.

“Yes, Mr. Piccard?” I asked.

“Continue your current assignment for homework, alright? Tomorrow you’ll begin where everyone else is. Is that alright with you?”

“That’s great! Thanks for such a small homework assignment!” I smiled and stuffed my folder into my knapsack.

I waited for Trent to finish putting his work away, so he could tell me where my next class was.

“Yeeeessss?” He asked, looking up from his backpack, where he was carefully sorting things away. What a neat freak. I just tapped my foot impatiently. “Was there something you were needing?” He asked, barely able to suppress a grin.

“Where’s our next class?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Only met a few hours ago, and you’re already thinking in terms of ‘us’ and ‘our’. I’m touched.” He grinned. If I didn’t just roll my eyes, I probably would have again.

“Ugh, you’re such a dork.” I groaned, following him out of the classroom. “So where is it?”

“Drama.” He replied shortly.

“I didn’t ask what it was, I asked WHERE it was.”

“No…” Trent said, coming to a stop. “Drama.” He pointed ahead of us.”

Ahead of us, stood the captain of the football team, among some cheerleaders and other lettermen jacket wearing snobs.

“Oh! You have those here too!” I exclaimed, with mock surprise.

“Yeah, and they’re not going to like us walking down the hall together.” He said, not really knowing what to do.

“Want to run for it?” I asked, as Jeremy and the group turned to look at us as if on cue. “Too late.” I laughed, holding out my arm to Trent. “Shall we?”

Trent’s mind was reeling a mile a minute. Here were his friends, people he’d known all his life. And then there was this girl, who he had just met, yet made him want to be himself. Do what he wanted to do, not worry about impressing anyone else. And it felt… good, as he slipped his arm in hers, and they continued walking down the hallway.

Hyku-San
09-12-2006, 06:20 PM
Amazing, simply amazing. I wish I could write like that.....

Daenerys
09-18-2006, 08:52 PM
Thank you. This is actually something I've been writing for four years now.

Little miss lovley
09-18-2006, 09:47 PM
The words in this story flow so gracfully! And its really clear to read. You are really good at this!