A Poetic Answer

I didn't even know pink was that embarrassing.

I mean, yeah, I knew some people didn't like it, but I did not know their hate for the color would stretch to such extremes. For one, I didn't know I would get kicked out of my best friends' party because I wore a pink dress with a pink sweatshirt. As soon as she opened the door and took one look at what I was wearing, she ordered me to go home and change into something 'decent'.

I sighed, and unzipped my pink sweatshirt. I didn't know why people assumed that if you liked pink, you were probably some annoying ditzy girl who couldn't add two and two. I would know, since my school practically put a full stop to the word 'stereotype'. It was horrible; everyone was separated into groups, and almost everyone only communicated with people from their groups, unless they were having a party or something.

There were the cheerleaders, the jocks, the Goths, the nerds and 'the others'. Yeah, they were actually called 'the others' at my school. Around 2 percent of the school's population consisted of the others and I was one of those fortunate few.

'The others' were the ones who wanted to go to school, have fun and get good grades as well, in my point of view. According to other people, 'the others' were the ones who couldn't fit into any of the cliques. Honestly, I would rather be myself and not fit into any of the cliques.

The cheerleaders were too hyper, the jocks were too stupid, and the nerds were nice but kind of needed to take a break from their books. That left the Goths. Honestly? The Goths totally freaked me out – it was like they walked right out of Sweeney Todd or something. Although I loved that movie, it was really weird to see people like that in reality. I didn't think it was normal for a guy to go around wearing makeup and black all the time. It was actually sort of scary.

'Katie,' said my mom coming into the living room and pulling me out of my thoughts, 'could you do me a favor and run to the store to get some milk?'

'Sure, mom,' I replied. I didn't really mind going to the store since I didn't have anything better to do. Plus, I was in no mood to go back to the party. I plugged in my earphones and walked out of the door, humming some song by Lifehouse as I went. I finally got to the store, and started searching for the milk.

'Excuse me, miss,' said an old man, coming up to me, 'do you know where the juices are kept?' I smiled at him; I always loved old people.

'It's right there, sir, in front of you,' I said kindly. He croaked out a 'thank you', and began choosing what he wanted. I got my milk, went to the counter and gave it to the woman behind the counter.

Just then, a deep voice said, 'Excuse me, are you done?' I looked back, ready to snap at the guy behind me, and found myself staring right into the most gorgeous, deep and grey eyes. Now, in my opinion, that's the one of the most clichéd sentence ever. But right there I realized that it was those clichéd sentences which got it spot on. Then I noticed what were in his hands. I frowned and looked back at him – properly.

I nearly screamed.

It was Darien! Darien was one of the schools Goths, you know, he had the whole 'I wear black and I wear makeup' thing going on. Except he didn't look like Darien. He looked…well…he looked hot! He didn't have any of his makeup and he wasn't wearing black. Short translation: He looked fabulous.

'Darien?' I practically screeched. 'Are you a guy?'

He frowned. 'What? Who are you?'

I scowled at him. 'What sort of guy goes around buying tampons? Huh? Are you trying to hide something from everyone?'

'I know you!' he said, his face lighting up. 'You're that girl from school!'

I glared at him. 'Thank you, Einstein. You didn't answer my question.'

He raised his eyebrow, 'are you actually asking me whether I'm a guy or not?'

'Well, what sort of guy goes around buying those?'

He laughed. 'They're actually for my sister…'

'…Oh.' Well, this was embarrassing.

'But,' he said teasingly, 'if you really want to know if I'm a guy or not, I could always show…'

'Gross! I yelled. 'That's disgusting!'

'It was just a joke!' He said defensively.

'Well, it wasn't very funny,' I said, still grossed out.

'Wait,' he said, 'you're Katie, right?'

'Yes,' I said impatiently, 'and you're Darien. Are we done stating the obvious?'

He laughed. 'You're really funny, you know.'

I scowled. 'Thank you very much. Anyway, I have to go now,' I said quickly, walking out.

'Hey Katie, you never came back yesterday,' grumbled Liz the next day.

'You didn't really expect me to come back after you kicked me out, did you?' I asked, raising my eyebrow.

'You were wearing a pink dress and a pink sweatshirt,' she said, grimacing.

I shook my head and opened my locker. I saw something on top of my books and frowned. There was a box of chocolates with a note attached to it.

'What's this?' I muttered, still frowning. I opened the note and read what it said –

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I like chocolates,

I hope you do too.

PS – Sorry, I'm not a great poet

'Wow,' squealed Liz behind me, 'who sent those?'

'No idea. I think he got the wrong person. Ah well, why waste good chocolates?' I said, popping one into my mouth. As I was talking to Liz, Darien crossed us.

'Hey Katie,' he said, winking. I rolled my eyes. I knew he was still making fun of me from last night. Once he was gone, Liz gave another squeal which made me jump back in surprise and stare at her irritably.

'What is it now?' I asked her, annoyed.

'Was…that…Darien?' She asked, giving a small clap after every word. I sighed, and walked into my English class, with a very excited Liz following me.

'Who is this guy anyway?' I muttered, staring at my new note.

'Some secret admirer,' replied Liz, concentrating on her book. She was reading Eclipse, which was the third book of some vampire love story. It was a series she read over and over again.

My 'secret admirer' had given me another note.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I failed my math test,

Because I was thinking of you

PS – I actually didn't fail. I passed…badly. But I decided it would be weird if I wrote that down.

Seriously, who was this? And what kind of awful poet was he? This wasn't my only note. The first note was last week, and ever since then, I had been getting more than one note a day.

I'm really tired because I walked a mile,

Since I last saw you it's been a while

But it doesn't matter, because I've practically memorized

Your face and your beautiful smile.

That one actually got me to smile. If I were to be true to myself, I would admit that I really looked forward to receiving the notes. I appreciated the fact that he kept sending poetry, even though he was horrible at it. Firstly, not many guys knew poetry well. Secondly, the ones who did read poetry were probably excellent poets.

But this guy was different. His poetry was so horrible yet entertaining that I couldn't help but love his poems. They also made me smile, and I didn't smile very much. It would be a good time for this guy to let me know who he is.

'This is so annoying!' I told Liz, stalking out of the classroom in anger. My history teacher had assigned three projects, which were due on Monday. But what irritated me most was that I still hadn't gotten a note the whole day.

I sighed, opened my locker, and eagerly looked in. Finally! There was a note in there. I grabbed it and quickly read it.

I decided it's time to stop hiding from you,

But I really hate to lie

So I'll give you a clue…

I'm a guy

Liz read the note; her head over my shoulder. 'Why would he say he's a guy?' I frowned. Why would he tell me that? Then it hit me and I suddenly remembered.

'Darien?' I practically screeched. 'Are you a guy?'

Oh my god.

'Hello?' said Liz, snapping her fingers in front of my face. 'Are you there? Why do you have that dazed look on your face?'

'Darien. Where's Darien?' I managed to get out.

'How am I supposed to know?' she asked me.

'I can always ask the Goths,' I said.

'What?' said Liz incredulously. 'I thought Goths freaked you out.'

'Not right now,' I muttered. I found Leah near her locker. She was good friends with Darien and a fellow Goth. Leah told me that Darien was right outside school. I quickly went out, and found Darien sitting on a bench.

'It's you!' I said, running up to him.

He looked up. 'Sorry?'

'Oh don't try to act all innocent,' I said, 'you're the guy that's been sending me those notes!'

He gave a mysterious smile. 'So you agree I'm a guy?'

I scowled at him.

He sighed. 'All right, all right, you caught me. I couldn't help but be attracted to you! What sort of girl goes up to someone and asks them if they're a guy or not?'

He then got up and kissed me. It was so unexpected and surprising, but…(forgive my lack of words) it was awesome!

He pulled away, cleared his throat and said,

'I don't spend money wisely,

I also don't drink wine,

But I'm asking you nicely

Will you be mine?'

I laughed. 'Yes, I will,' I said, grinning like an idiot.

'But I thought you don't date Goths,' he said curiously.

'Well, I thought Goths were kind of freaky in the beginning. But you're obviously not. I thought they were all depressed and stuff. How did you know anyway?'

'I have my sources.'

'Well, I don't date Goths usually. Actually, I hardly date. But you're not any other Goth. You're different.'

'Really? How?' he asked me.

I smiled up at him. 'You're my Goth.'

A/N – Haha…it was so weird writing that. I've never actually had a main male character as a Goth. I've never even met a Goth, so I don't know if they're always quiet or something. But Darien isn't your typical Goth...he's very different. I mean, I wanted to show that even though Darien is a Goth, he doesn't behave like a normal Goth. Gah...I'm saying the word 'Goth' too many times. I wonder if I managed to get my point across.

Anyway, I have to thank one of my friends for helping me come up with the idea! I started writing this at eleven at night and was done by around one. Then I spent the rest of the night – sorry, morning – trying to kill a cockroach. So I'm pretty darn sleepy right now.

The horrible poetry came from me. I'm actually a terrible poet; I can't rhyme for nuts. So, anyway, let me know what you think, okay? Review!

I'm probably going to go and sleep now…!

See ya,