The Things I Do For You

Notes: rubs hands together heh heh heh. This is my first story, heh heh heh. I sound like a crazy person bent on sugar...heh heh heh. Are the 'heh heh heh's too creepy? I should stop, huh? I'm scaring myself. Gage says it's sexy but Dylan says I'm a freak...heh heh heh

Jesse My Lesbian Lover In Another Life Is The Best Person In The Whole Wide World For Helping Me With This Sucker 3

Anyway, this story will contain, bad langugue, bad grammer, bad spelling, low self esteem, homosexuality, drugs (it's not centered around it) heterosexuality, and uh...other stuff...

Oh and anything you reconize doesn't belong to me (i. Jane,Nine Inch Nails, ect...)

ON WITH THE STORY!

heh. heh. heh.


The Things I Do For You

My English teacher once told me that every story has a beginning. He said that in order to succeed in life you needed to stand up for what you knew was right and not let anyone stop you from believing it. I didn't believe him as whenever someone voiced their opinion he'd walk over it and pretend they never said anything, unless, of course, they agreed with him. Later on I figured my own advice on that matter. All you need to do to succeed is to kiss a little ass here and there. I used my mouth for something other then cynical use and got an A in his class that year.

I didn't enjoy it as much as he did though. He was awful ugly and was in need of Rogaine 'cause that man balded everywhere. Anyway, that was in eighth grade. A year later I met Erik Wilson. Now, Erik was someone I thoroughly enjoyed hanging out with. He was taller then me but not by much and very, very handsome. He was the first person to not shy away from me when he ran into me in the busy noisy halls of high school.

I can still remember almost exactly how we met. I was walking down the halls with my head ducked silently cussing out every pair of eyes I felt drilling into my back. looking over my black clothes and long black hair and black make up. I heard snickers but I was probably overly paranoid about it. I walked slowly shuffling along the busy hallway reflecting how alone one could feel in such a crowded place. I tucked a strand of black hair behind a pierced pale ear.

I was walking one moment and in a quick phase of pain I was on the floor spread eagle not moving wondering what the hell I was doing. My books had fallen from my backpack around my head and my hand was underneath my backpack. I blinked at the ceiling. Was I going to get up? I wondered absently. I did though. A hand forced itself in my view. I slipped my hand into the big palmed tan one and was yanked up. Another freshman stared at me through apologetic but playful blue eyes. His hair was a messy orange (a color later changed into many) and he was short. He grew later that year and I was the short one.

"Hey, sorry," he said scratching his neck sheepishly. I blinked and nodded at him. He narrowed his eyes and the thin blond hairs on my arms stood at the feeling of being analyzed. I brought a hand up to my mouth and gnawed on already chipping black paint of my ring finger.

"Wanna come over after school?" He asked quickly giving me a toothy grin that would later make hearts swell and fall to pieces. I blinked again and nodded open mouthed. From then on we've never spend the weekend in separate places.

He got good grades but I figured that was because he was smart. He got flustered a lot when my report card came back better and he couldn't figured out why as I never studied. He'd ask how I did it and complain about my 'secret' smile I 'wore' when he asked. I suppose I did as old habits die hard and I don't care whether someone's a female or male as long as my grades come back in shiny A's for my father. I figured dearest daddy would have done worst then any teacher could have. This way everyone was happy.

Now, though, in our sophomore year, I discovered a little more then lust for my dear Erik. Maybe it was his dyed hair or his cool cordial attitude. Maybe it was his eyes or his cool looking skater shoes. Maybe it was his hot Nine Inch Nails 'Starfucker' shirt. Maybe I'm totally imagining all of this and I've never even met Erik and its just one long ass dream.

Maybe.

Anyway, I guess if there was to be a beginning of the end. Or is it the beginning of the beginning? I don't know. But from where I'm standing today, right now, at this moment in time, the beginning all started when Mandy shoved her big ugly boots into my life.

TBC