2A/N: It was fun writing this. Haha.
Challenge: Write with dialogue -
"Her: Piss off.
Him: Can't. I'm stuck here.
Her: Yeah well... you're a cow."
Dante Evans.
How could someone be so … urgh.
He sat there, arrogantly - oh so arrogantly - his hair mussed up and glinting a dark copper red in the sunlight. He was a devil, deviously in disguise in dark pants and a light blue long-sleeved polo shirt, with a perfect boy tie. Okay, maybe that was just the uniform … but he was still evil. He was laughing (loudly and still arrogantly) with his so called friends. His mighty-jock-all-powerful-cool-dude friends.
And I was so not jealous or anything.
Not at all.
Really.
He happened to look my way and our eyes connected for a second before I snapped my head to the direction of Jen, who was sitting patiently in front of me, probably a plan of conspiracy forming in her mind. Of what, I would not know. But I knew she had a plan. Everybody did.
"Kar?"
Jennifer Krisztowska was looking at my suspicious face. Jen, whose real name was actually Svetlana, has been my best friend ever since the second grade when she moved from Russia. Jen, who has a twin sister - that she swears is a sadist but who I found to be perfectly fine although a little anti-social - swears I'm insane and is too paranoid. She, Jen, also swears that my love for Dante Evans is so palpable; I might as well have been declaring my love for him in front of the student body. I socked her one for that. Ah, friendship.
Jen, or sometimes known as Sveta, was talking; her voice now completely rid of the cool Russian accent but was now developing that American twang.
"Kari, I was thinking…" Probably about her plot to get rid of all European overlords, eh? No? "… That we should probably go shopping this weekend."
Cue me staring at her blankly, although not stupidly. (Even though others would love to disagree. Whatever.)
"Why on earth would I want to spend my precious weekend, which we only have about two hundred and forty eight hours left of, going shopping? And for what?" I looked at her drily.
She just pointed at the vibrant and all too neon looking poster behind me. I blanched. Naturally.
The Prom.
"Okay, let me rephrase that … are you insane?" A little louder than I would have liked but it is okay dear people, I was known for making loud noises in the middle of the lunch scene. Cue me blanching. Again.
"Kari," she sighed, drawing the last syllable of my name out.
"What?"
"Could you be any less of a girl? Even my sister's going!" Huh, anti-social, darker twin is going.
"… This is our Senior Prom, and while we may not be up for Prom Queens or whatever -"
"Yeah, don't forget the 'not having a date' thing too." Which was so sad of course.
"- But we. Are. Going. To. Prom. I'm not skipping anymore dances because of your inability to dance." Ouch. It was true, and sad, but … ouch.
"Excuse you. I can so dance!"
"Then why are you not going. Again."
Okay, so may I did have a little problem on the dance floor. And the reason I don't have any dates because I've said no to anyone who asked. And I haven't gone for any social events the past year was because of a certain -
"Jennifer, Jennifer. Have you not learned anything from your time with Kari, here?"
Dante Evans.
The cow.
How dare he? How dare he sit beside me, pinching a carrot stick from my plate (what? I happen to like them) all the while, and smirk like he was the friggin' god of smirking.
"What?" said Jennifer, although the venom I was hoping for was not infused in her voice. She, unlike me, happens to like Dante Evans. Ooh, he's so cool. Ooh, he's so handsome. Ooh, - he is so going to die.
"You have to lure her there." Popping the carrot stick in his mouth.
And stupid Jennifer was nodding along. Why is she my best friend again?
"With carrot sticks -" He took another one. "- And a hot date." More smirking.
"Let me guess … ah, he would be non-existent, completely fiction, another figure in my dreams?" Oh how lovely satire is.
"You dream of me?"
"I dream of gouging your eyes out with a spork and butchering your pretty little head with an eggbeater." Of course this was all muttered under my breath.
"You think my head's pretty?" He just happened to have super hearing, okay!
"Screw you."
"Oh, you want to?"
Okay, I'm out of here.
I glared at Jennifer, accusing her of this whole debauchery, as if it was her fault that Dante knew of my love of carrot sticks.
Avoiding his gaze, I stomped out of the cafeteria.
Stupid carrot sticks.
Why did my mother have to be all weird and health-paranoid? It was bad enough that my dad's a psycho joker, but having my mom force feed me mashed carrots when I was just a baby thus starting my obsession, was just a tad too much don't you think? And why did Jennifer have to listen to him?
I swear I am soo going to pummel both of them. (Yeah, just put aside the fact that Dante actually has visible muscles and that Jennifer does Pilates).
"Aw come on, Kar, smile!" Speak of the Devil.
Jennifer stepped forward so she was in front of me, surveying me with an annoyed look.
"What happened to you?" She asked. I glared at her wordlessly and pointedly looked down at my dress. My dress. With spaghettis straps, the itchy fabric beneath and, ugh, paired with inch high heels. Jennifer's heels, to be precise since, apparently, none of my shoes will do. (I really thought my purple converse high-tops would go nice with this dress.)
Yes, dear people, I was lured to the torture known as Prom. By my own best friend nonetheless.
"I told you to not mess up the make-up and what do you do? You go and friggin' scowl. That just messes up the whole look," she said, her voice feathery and frustrated.
"Svetlana Krisztowska, you will shut up and let me go now."
She stuck her tongue out and shook her head.
"Jen, if you don't - I swear - if he sees, I'm - Jennifer."
"Ssh, you're Kari, not Jennifer. Here, why don't you…" she looked around the room. "Ah, dance with that guy?" I looked around to where she was looking and groaned.
"Are you for real? Him? No way."
Dante, seeing that we - I mean, Jennifer - was looking at him, waved and started walking (his stupid loping - arrogant - gait) towards us. I cringed.
"Okay, here's the plan. Unzip your dress, pull out your boobs and distract him while I run to the bathroom, climb up the stall and out the window. Ready? Alright, go." I saw no unzipping of dresses and as I poised myself to run, Jennifer grabbed my wrist to stop me, her stony gaze holding me in my place. Dante was coming closer, I closed my eyes. Three, two, - oh, please, let the ground open up and swallow him hole - one.
Shit. No such luck.
"Kari, it's very un-lady like to swear. Hey Jennifer." Did I say that aloud?
"Loudly and clearly. Is my presence making you incoherent?" I finally opened my eyes, just as Jennifer uttered a quick excuse to run to the ladies room (so much for my plan). I made a face at Dante, the tux wearing, hair gelling buffoon. And did he have to smell so nice? Dude, cut down on the perfume.
Apparently, I said this out loud too, as his next words were:
"I don't use cologne, Kar. I just took a shower." Huh. A little surprising, but ah well . . .
"Finally! I can smell the real difference, Evans." He just smirked and leaned on the wall beside me.
"You were looking constipated a moment, there." Oh ha ha. Very funny.
"Just the thought of you in the same room."
"Yeah?"
"Yep."
He smiled.
I turned away to look at the people dancing to techno.
I heard him sigh. I took that as my cue to leave. I pushed myself off the wall and turned my back on him.
"Hey wait -" He dares. I looked pointedly at his hand, which gripped my wrist like a vice, and tried to shake it off.
"What is wrong with you? Let go!" Seriously, this is not cool. His hand hurt.
"Just stay, okay?" I looked down at Jennifer's shoes (hoping she'll be all "speak of the devil" again) and avoided his gaze.
"Piss off, Evans."
"Can't. I'm stuck here." Wha?
"Yeah well . . . you're a cow."
I flopped myself back on the wall, admitting defeat. He chuckled, slipping his hand down to hold mine. Wha?!
"The fact that I haven't 'moo'ed at all in our conversation denies your statement, but I digress." This hand holding thing is getting weird. Where is Jennifer?
"Dante, seriously, let go of my hand." Getting quite creeped out here.
"No."
"Please?" Ugh, this is so sad. I was already begging!
"No."
"Jerk."
No reply. He sighed.
"Come on, let's dance." What? No, no way. I cannot dance. With him.
"I am not dancing with you. No way in hell." I tried fruitlessly tugging my hand back, away from him. I glared at him full in the face, catching a flash of an unidentified emotion across his green eyes. I tugged in vain again.
"Why not?"
"Are you really asking that question?" I felt myself sink. Oh God, here we go again. Flashes of our once upon a time were reeling off my brain. I bit my lip, willing myself to stay in the present.
"Yeah, I am. It was over a year ago, Ka -"
"And it still fucking hurts, Dante."
He dropped my hand, stepped away from me as if he'd been burned, and that same emotion flashed across his eyes again.
He looked at me, at my determined closed off face, and jerked slightly forward. I thought, maybe, he was going to hug me. I closed my eyes.
No hug came.
When I opened my eyes, he was moving across the dance floor, away from me.
There're no such things as ghosts in a playground.
Right?
(Riiight Kari …)
Good, because I was starting to wonder if there were. Playgrounds at night are really creepy. The wind, the swing chains and that weird circle moving thing, what was up with that? It's like it was made to haunt little kids - and eighteen year old girls! - at night.
I felt him sit beside me before he even spoke. The swing chains tinkled as his weight rested on the seat. Our not-really fight was fresh on my mind.
"Still fucking hurts, Dante."
Okay, let me tell the story to you before you start jumping to some horrible conclusion. Dante and I have - had - been best friends since forever. You know the type, childhood friends and all that. But of course Fate had to interrupt and we changed. He was more out-going . . . and I became more weird. Yeah. (cough)
We still remained friends though; all through high school up to junior year. Last time … last time, the dance, I told him I loved him. (You have to see it coming though) He, however, thought I was joking and threw it back in my face. (Men.)The next day he started hanging out with some of the 'cool' people. And I was so totally okay with that.
I derisive laugh bubbled up threateningly from my throat. It came out as a half-strangled sob. Great. I'm going to start to cry now.
"Hey, hey." I felt him stand up as I wiped my eye (I swear, four eyelashes went inside. I was not crying.) He stood over me while I fussed over my eye.
Uh-oh.
No escape.
I looked up at him just as he placed his hands over my upper-arms, lifting me up.
"Uh, Dante? Could you - just, eh. Let me go?" I asked as I felt myself press against him. To be quite honest . . . it felt good. Damn good.
I tried to extract myself from him. Yeah, fat chance.
"Dante?"
"Look, I only came tonight because I wanted to tell you something."
Okay, time to start panicking.
"Can't you do that when you're not squishing me?"
"No."
Cue me trying to stick out my tongue. I would have done that had he not decided it was time to stare down at me. Screw the cow.
I looked to the side, finally allowing myself to rest my cheek on his chest.
"Yeah, what is it?"
It must've been a pretty odd sight. Two teenagers, in the middle of the night, hugging and looking completely foolish in formal clothes, one in a gown slash dress, the other in a tux; in the middle of a ghost-infested playground.
"I was wrong."
My breath hitched in my throat.
"What?"
"I was wrong about you."
My heart stopped beating.
"What?" Seriously, be more evasive.
"That night, what I said about you," he continued, staring off in the distance.
"That I was childish, annoying and naïve?" I felt him tense, his arms stiffening around me.
"Yes. And …"
"And?"
"Uh … God, why is this so hard?" He threw back his head, widening the space between us. He still kept his arms around me though. When he looked down at me again, I turned my face up at him this time.
"I know," I whispered. I reached up and brushed his hair away from his forehead, letting my hand linger in the mass of black hair. He leaned against my hand.
"I miss you. Every single day," he said, his voice sounding constricted. "After that night, I didn't know why I said those things. You looked so hurt."
"I was."
"And I asked you 'why', you just sprouted those lyrics,"
I didn't come this far for you to make this hard for me.
And now you want to ask me "why?"
It's like - how does your heart beat, and why do you breathe?
How does your heart beat, and why do you breathe?
"Yeah. I was pretty torn up when you walked away."
"But then every day, I see you at school. It hurt me to see you hurting, Kar. I missed being with you and all I could do was stare at you. I hated that; I had to look at you from across the room." I pressed my face against his chest again, my breath become shallower. He whispered in my ear; "I realized I loved you too. But by then it was too late; you'd already swore vengeance on me."
I chuckled at that. Tis true.
"Dante, is that all you wanted to say?"
"Yeah."
"Mmkay."
I leaned up, trailing my nose against his strained neck. He probably thought I was going to bite him or something. Foolish boy.
I kissed him near the ear, just under the shallow part, soft and tender. I leaned back as he stared at me incredulously.
"Kar -" I cut him off, putting a finger on his lips.
"Shh," I said, as I moved again, this time going on tip-toes to get to his eye. I kissed him above his eyelashes as he closed his eyes. His breath tickled my neck. Finally, I kissed the corner of his mouth. Still sweet and tender.
I motioned for him to do the same to me, and he did, although he applied more suction. (Men.) As he reached my mouth, trailing goose bumps in his wake, he didn't bother with being sweet and tender. He became more passionate, sucking on my lower lip.
I shivered as he pulled back. He tightened his arms on me, smirking his wonderful smirk. I smirked back.
"I never knew you were such a good kisser."
"Better than carrots sticks?"
"I don't kiss carrots, you cow!"
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Not the best of writings, not the best of plots, not the best of characters, but oh well! *shrug* I'm not aiming for that. This is just something to do because I am bored. Haha. And it's a challenge. =P
Whatever.
R&R?
*glomps for everyone*
Luurve,
Epic_Dreamer
P.S Psst! Check out my new roleplay forum. If you like writing short and sweet stuff with others, you'd like roleplaying.
EDIT 1: Fixed a couple of typos. PM me or something if you spot anymore.