All Fun And Games
So here I am, bawling my eyes out on my bed. I've got mascara streaming down my face, my eyes are red and puffy, I can't breathe, and it feels like my heart is physically breaking inside. I'm looking at sad, crush quotes and, if you can't tell by that clue, this is all over a boy: an annoying, aggravating, caring, sweet, funny, and lovely boy. A guy who I am absolutely head-over-heels for but who will never like me back. He hates me and it all started with a stupid dare.
I should probably start by telling you the story, from the beginning.
It was a dark and stormy night, no just kidding, it was actually a lovely day. The sun beamed down on us and there wasn't a single cloud; not too hot and not too cold. It was the perfect day, at least weather-wise.
My bestie and I were walking into our school as we usually did. We had a basic routine every morning: she picked me up, since I didn't have a car, and then we would head to school. Once we got there, we would play our daily game of truth or dare while we walked around the courtyard.
Our school was huge, the courtyard alone could most likely fit my house inside it. It was a usual hang-out spot for kids at our school.
"Truth or dare?" Victoria, my best friend, asked me, the mischief in her eyes evident. This can't be good.
Victoria and I had always been polar opposites; day and night, bland and spicy, sun and moon. Victoria was adventurous and bold. I, on the other hand, liked to do things the same way every day. I was an extremely routined person, I would have died without my planner; schedules were my life.
Our friendship had a fundamental structure to it: she got us into trouble, I got us out of trouble. It was as simple as that.
We've been best friends ever since first grade after we both sat in the very back seat of the bus. Now, if you've never ridden public school transportation then you wouldn't understand the major uproar this little act would cause in the organization of it all. See, fifth-graders were the only ones who got to sit in the back. They were like the seniors of elementary school.
Victoria and me, being first graders, were definitely not supposed to be in the back. We, of course, did not know this at the time; in all honesty, we probably should have noticed the many glares coming from the students around us.
Emma Greensworth, a fifth-grader at the time, did not find it amusing to discover I had unknowingly stolen her seat.
Emma Greensworth was about four feet and eleven inches. I know that doesn't sound big but, remember, we were first graders: a whopping three feet and five inches. Emma looked like a giant. She immediately rushed over to our seat huffing, her face blazing red, and steam puffing out of her ears. Emma started cussing us out and yelling for us to get out of her seat. The amount of foul language that fifth-grader knew was unimaginable. I was trembling in my seat, ready to start bawling my eyes out, when Victoria stood up, opened her water bottle, and dumped it on Emma's head. Water splashed everywhere, drenching Emma's white shirt and revealing her bright pink, polka dot bra. Absolutely humiliated, she ran off the bus with mascara streaming down her face.
The bus driver went up to question Victoria right away and all she had to say was, "I thought she was overheating."
That was the gutsiest move I had ever seen someone pull. Instead of being impressed, I was even more scared of Victoria than Emma. I had quickly tried to get out of the seat to move to the next one, somewhere farther up on the bus. Thankfully, Victoria wasn't going to have it and yelled at me to sit back down. We'd been best friends ever since.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by Victoria, who stared at me expectantly. Oh right, the game.
Victoria was of a darker complexion and had curly black hair with lavender tips. She wore violet contacts to accentuate her hair and had fourteen piercings, a fact she loved to brag about. Victoria had the classic bad girl look. She loved it; always wearing her leather jacket.
I, contrary to that, looked pretty boring: long, wavy, brown hair; brown eyes; one simple ear piercing; and as for my clothes, well, let's just say they were nothing special. I had on a bland pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt. I also had on my combat boots; as always. I never went anywhere without my combat boots. They were a bit old and exceedingly worn out but I didn't care.
"Dare," I replied to her question.
A shocked look fell upon her face. "Woah, someone's feeling adventurous!"
I instantly regretted the question. I put on a confident act and tried not to show the fear that was rushing through me. I rarely picked dare. "I'm waiting," I teased impatiently.
She glared at me, jokingly, then surveyed the area. Her lips pursed. "I dare you toâ" she paused to give me a sinister lookâ"walk up to that guy and tell him you would give him an eleven on the hotness scale." She pointed to a random guy.
I glanced to where she directed. He must have been new to the school, as neither Victoria nor I knew his name. He was undeniably attractive and would, without a doubt, gain popularity rapidly. With his curly hair, blue eyes, and toned body, he was sure to be a hit. Girls would be swooning over him in a heartbeat.
His hair had been left in a lazy, yet incredibly attractive state. Freckles spread across the bridge of his nose, giving him the slight allusion of innocence that was quickly wiped away by the rest of his appearance and persona. Every girl would inevitably fall head over heels for him, aside from me of course. It would only be a matter of time.
"The scale only goes to ten," I informed her. As soon as the words left my mouth, realization hit me.
In a total of seventeen years, I had never once said no to a dare but, to be fair, I rarely picked dare, only truth; it was safer. I believe Victoria's dare proved my point.
The worst dare I ever had to do happened when I turned seven: Timmy Walker dared me to play 'Lady and a Tramp' with him; you know, that one scene with the spaghetti, except, instead of spaghetti... a worm. I brushed my teeth for a solid twenty minutes after that. The thought of it still made me sick. What was worse: that was technically my first kiss. I tried not to think about it.
I grimaced as I attempted to push down the revolting memory, the taste of slimy worms still fresh in my head, even after ten years.
"Well?" Victoria teased, poking me on the arm.
I took a deep breath and prepared for a huge amount of embarrassment. He was new here and would already think I was crazy.
I slowly approached him; Victoria following my tail like a little kid. "Hmmâ" he looked over at the sound of my voiceâ"I think I would rate him an eleven," I pretended to tell Victoria.
I could feel a slight burning feeling in my chest and I could have sworn I was turning red. I tried to keep my hands from shaking, to no avail. The guy, whose name I did not know, raised one eyebrow in confusion. I couldn't tell if he looked amused or annoyed, perhaps both.
Next to him stood Chase Elton, extremely popular and extremely sweet. He hung out with the cliche group of popular boys, yet was so unlike them. I never understood why he hung out with them. He cared about his grades, never skipped school, didn't drink or smoke. He was perfect. He also went completely unnoticed by all the girls, except for me of course. Now...I wasn't saying I had a crush on Chase but, if he asked, I'd say yes; not that he would ever ask. Chase was the exact kind of guy I wanted. The fact that more girls didn't want him astonished me. He was incredibly cute and had a smile that could light up a room. Most of the girls here just wanted a guy who could show them a good time, for one night and one night only.
Chase wasn't like that, he was a relationship kind of man. The boy next to him did not seem to be. He and the new boy looked to be polar opposites, much like Victoria and me. Chase radiated 'kind and lovable guy while the new kid's persona shouted 'I'm the type of guy your mom warned you about'.
"An eleven, the scale only goes to ten," Victoria added, making the embarrassment even worse.
I could tell she enjoyed the scene. Her lips curved into an irritating smile. The boy smirked before speaking, "You two are funny, what are your names?" There was a slight accent to his voice, although it was so subtle I couldn't quite place it; so faint that I almost wondered if I had imagined it.
His voice remained calm and relaxed, emitting confidence, something I clearly did not have. I remained frozen, too surprised by his reaction, which was definitely not what I expected; I wasn't sure what I had been expecting but it most certainly was not that.
"I'm Victoria Roseâ" she held her hand out for him to shakeâ"but you can call me Vikki."
He looked at her hand reluctantly and shook it. I attempted to refrain from visibly cringing at the action. I made an effort to keep up the bold act and firmly shook his hand, but then again nobody shook hands anymore, so it was weird either way. "Lanabeth Valentine, but I go by Annabeth."
My thoughts were screaming at me furiously to get out of there. The amount of energy I put into not crying was unbelievable. "Lanabeth," he drew out slowly, "that's an unusual name."
"Trust me I know." Everyone had to comment on it.
Our eyes locked and I struggled to remain eye contact. My stomach twisted almost as if something were attacking its lining; not butterflies, more like, angry moths, the kind of sickening feeling you get right before you throw up.
I had never been good at talking to people and I had grown accustomed to this feeling every time I tried.
"We better get to class." Vikki saved me.
She grabbed my arm and pulled me along. The boy remained in his spot and didn't even seem to worry about being late. Chase, contrary to that, quickly rushed off in the other direction to get to his class. He had it in the second building, which essentially meant he had to sprint to make it in time, and he hated being late.
I kept my head low, hoping no one would notice me, just like always.