The droning repetition of my alarm clock’s ring pulsated through my body leaving me feeling slightly unsettled. The same though ran through my mind every morning; why did I didn’t I opt for a radio clock? But there was something charming about my brass enemy; with its roman numeral display and bells on top. My morning frustrations were a minor sacrifice to pay for having such an aesthetically appealing piece of clockwork displayed in my bedroom.
I groaned turning over fumbling around blindly for the off switch of the ringing device then took fondly to glancing around my bedroom. There was something off about the setting. Given my groggy state it took a few moments to realize that I was no longer sleeping in my familiar old bedroom. My family and I had moved close to a week ago and this was the fourth morning in counting that I had gone through this process --the other few were spent unable to sleep-- and something told me that I would continue to do so for at least another few weeks.
Our previous location housed my childhood; all of my memories, the few friends I had managed to hold onto over the years, and even a boyfriend I had been managing to hold onto for the past seven months. These were all things that I wasn’t ready to let go of.
Our move to Belleville was fairly spontaneous. My parents had always been the unconventional type who sought out adventure and new things to try. It was only a matter of time before they decided to ship the family half way across the country for our greatest adventure yet! Though more likely than not, it was probably because of my father’s recent job loss. The neighbourhood was sketchy but it was all that we could afford. Apparently Jersey didn’t come cheap.

I shuffled my way from my bed to my dresser drawer pulling out a pair of grey knitted tights and a loose fitting long sleeved black shirt just long enough to cover my bum. I wouldn’t have called my style of dress raunchy per-say. More like modest with a not-so-conservative twist. My philosophy was always that the length of clothing didn’t matter as long as you kept covered, and it wasn’t exactly like I had curves to flaunt. As far as my figure went, I was flat as a board with the exception of a very prominent waist line. Puberty did not do my body justice.
I slipped into these clothes remembering that I had showered the night before and then turned my attention to my hair. It was on the shorter end of long with layers and looked as though someone had taken an orange highlighter to it….except it was my natural hair colour. I gave it a few tosses before giving up and allowing it to fall freely. This happened almost every day. I then turned my attention to my eyes. I had been told that I had pretty eyes. They were a pale green with black and gold flecks that matched quite nicely with my ivory skin complexion. I couldn’t complain. Still I had taken to lining them black liner and various shades of grey, white and rouge; an old habit from my middle school days. These things die hard, you know.
Once these things were complete I slipped on a pair of Doc Martin Mary Jane’s which added a good inch to my miniscule 5’3 stature and made my way down stairs to grab a cup of coffee and if I was feeling especially proactive; maybe a cereal bar.

As I walked into the kitchen I was greeted by my mother and my brother Rowan who were both busy munching on pieces of toast and orange juice. Rowan was a good year and a half older than me and had already graduated from High School. The fact that he was up at this hour implied that he had somewhere to go or someone to meet. Rowan was always the out and about type. There would be some nights where he wouldn’t even bother to return home. None of us really knew what he did when he went out. Though my parents never really paid mind to it because despite his disappearances he still managed to maintain that perfect 4.0 GPA and a clean record. The irony of it all was that he didn’t even wind up going to college. He claimed it wasn’t for him; said that he could make it in life other ways without having to dish out a fortune for tuition (as if he couldn’t have received a scholarship).
“Mornin’ Char” my brother greeted. I gave him a quick wave of my hand before turning my attention to the coffee machine and a mug that my mother had taken so kindly to leaving out for me in the mornings. I poured myself a cup full and immediately began sipping it scorching my tongue. This happened every morning. I sighed placing my cup down and searching the cupboard for something remotely edible; nothing.
“I can make you some toast if you’d like” my mother offered. I shook my head no.
“Don’t worry about it” I mumbled “I’m not very hungry.”
“You know Charlotte,” my mother lectured “That isn’t very healthy.” I shrugged slightly. I had never really been too health conscious. I knew that this would come back to kick me in the ass eventually but that would be then and this is now. I took my seat at the other end of the island staring blankly into my black cup of coffee. There was something so interesting about the stillness of it…or was I just tired?
“Do you need me to drive you to school?” my mother asked.
“It’s a five minute walk” I stated. My mother nodded slowly.
“Then you should probably head out” she informed me. I shook my head.
“That would probably be a good idea” I agreed. Rowan snickered.
“I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun” his tone was obnoxious but I knew he meant well.
“Yes” I began “There are the times of my life.”

Belleville High School was nothing too gawk at. In the three days that I had been there I had already picked out its standard brick architecture and classrooms fit to house inmates. There was nothing striking about it. The classes were mediocre in comparison to the ones at my old school and the kids acted as though they had never seen an AP class in their life.
My peers weren’t cruel and I wasn’t exactly playing the role of the new girl arriving at school unwelcome and ridiculed. They were just, standoffish. They didn’t really care to associate with me and quite frankly, nor did I. I guess you could say that I was still feeling bitter about the move but if I was intended to form any friendships while living in Belleville, I would do so. If not, oh well.
I walked up the front steps of the school and into the main hallway where I came face to face with my locker. One thing I always credited myself with was my inability to open it. After a few minutes of struggling with the darn contraption I finally managed to pry it open. I placed my Language and Composition textbook into it and pulled out my binders for my first few periods of class; Advance Placement Psychology, Anatomy, and Women’s Studies. Nothing like starting off your morning with three thought provoking, controversial topics. Then again from what I saw, there weren’t too many creationists present in Belleville High.
The first bell sounded signalling me to head off to my first class, first and favourite. There was just something appealing about studying the way the brain works. While I wasn’t exactly out to become a fulltime psychologist bent on assigning diagnostic labels to the community; I did enjoy the subject area. For the day the class consisted on a Socratic seminar on the topic of nature verses nurture. Naturally this wound up leading to “those gay people” followed by a slew of negative comments and inappropriate hand gestures. For a subject filled with so much potential you’d think people would at least have the common courtesy to take it a little seriously.
The next two periods managed to breeze by fairly quickly leading me to a very undesired study hall period. I hadn’t requested the period but the school was unable to place me in any other class that period so instead I was left to waste time and credits in a pointless period. Still, it did cut down on my nightly work load. I walked into the class period taking a seat toward the back contemplating if I should even bother starting my anatomy homework. It would have been the smart thing to do, but at the moment the circulatory system wasn’t looking too appealing. Then again, what better things did I have to do?
I had taken to scribbling mindlessly on a blank page of my personal notebook. It wasn’t personal in the sense that it was a journal. It was used for exactly what I was doing; passing time. I’d doodle in it, write quick reminders for plans, and occasionally add in an original poem or two. Needless to say, losing it wouldn’t have been the bane of my existence.
The teacher clapped her hands as a not so personal way of telling us all to shut up. She turned her attention from the board to the fifteen or so of us present in the room. She sighed heavily; one could easily tell that she did not enjoy her job...or us.
“You guys know the drill” she began. “I don’t care if you talk just as long as you don’t distract anyone if heaven forbid one of you actually decides to be productive.” I felt slightly offended by this statement. I had been nothing but productive in this study hall period, she didn’t need to generalize us.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a door knob turning and then footsteps rushing toward our study hall teacher’s ---whose name I never bothered to learn, mind you-- desk.
“Nice of you to join us today Mister Way” our study hall teacher mocked sarcastically. The boy --around 5’9 with oily black hair, pale skin, and jeans tight enough to even make my thighs scream-- smirked coyly at our teacher baring a small slip of pink paper in his right hand.
“It’s a delight see you too Ms. Rhodes” that was her name. I was almost curious about this character but quickly dismissed the notion figuring that he was just another smart ass with less than developed plans for his future. I had a habit of being judgemental from time to time, but it was usually out of good reason followed by a correct assumption. Maybe I was a bit snooty but really, what did I have to lose; a friendship with a boy who was late and still couldn’t be bothered to wash his hair?
Much to my dismay the boy sat directly in front of me giving off an musky odour of Just-woke-up and febreze. It wasn’t a bad odour but it wasn’t exactly endearing either.
“Hey” oh here we go. “Hey, are you new here?” No shit Sherlock. Of course I was new. Then again, I hadn’t seen this kid in my study hall period up until today so who even knew how long he had been out of class. I felt slightly bad at my thoughts and decided to handle the confrontation in a civil fashion.
“Yeah…” I began “I moved here about a week ago” I informed him. The boy smiled outstretching his hand.
“Name’s Gerard, and you?”
“Charlotte” I uttered briefly, shaking his hand. His handshake was firm and reassuring. Not haphazard like I had expected it to be.
“Nice to meet you Charlotte” he replied breaking the handshake. He then placed his pointer finger in the air as though trying to place something. “Charlotte” he said “Charlotte.” he repeated again “You look like a Charlotte, Charlotte.” I wasn’t quite sure what to make of his conclusion.
“Well thanks…” I trailed off. He continued.
“It’s in your eyes” he began. “It’s in your eyes, Charlotte. They give off the aura of mystique and a past. Oh you have quite the past I bet and your mind is busy working.”
“Oh?” I posed. Gerard chuckled.
“But given the circumstances that look is probably you not giving a shit, am I right?” I couldn’t help but laugh at this statement. True as it was, I wasn’t about ready to let him have his way?
“You’re full of assumptions, Mister Way.” I stated. And he wasn’t very good at masking them either. I had read stories about people being this forward with strangers but I had never expected such an event to take place in my actual life.
“And you’re full of answers.” he retorted. “So why don’t we settle this over lunch next period and see if my assumptions can be backed up?”
“Is that an invitation?” I egged on.
“Indeed it is Charlotte, what is your last name?”
“Myrtle”
“Myrtle” he mirrored “You’re of English decent?” Oh, that was clever.
“My great grandmother came over here from England.”
“I see” Gerard began “Well Miss Myrtle to answer your question, yes that was an invitation to join me at lunch next period.” I chuckled lightly. I couldn’t lie, Gerard was an interesting one, almost…charming. Though there was one flaw in his plan.
“There’s only one problem” I began, looking forward to ending this conversation in an anticlimactic fashion.
“And that is?” Gerard posed. I shook my head.
“I have lunch sixth period” I informed him. Gerard cocked his head at me slightly, eyes fixated on me as though he were studying me or something. I felt slightly uncomfortable. He began shaking his head.
“I see…” he continued shaking his head before abruptly stopping. “That can be arranged.”

And there he was sitting across from me and skipping God knows what class during my lunch period. I was half expecting him to be all talk and nothing more but the other half of me was hoping he’d live up to what he had said. I was grateful when he had done so. Neither of us ate and neither of us questioned why the other wasn’t. There was a certain level of comfort between the two of us in the sense that Gerard was overstepping my normal boundary line and I was too fixated on his quirks to care.
“So Miss Myrtle-”
“You should really stop calling me that” I interjected.
“Oh, but it has a sort of ring to it.” Gerard began. By this point I was giving him a look as though he were deranged. He sighed “Alliteration” pause “…you’re no fun.” I’ve shrugged.
“I’m often dubbed the killjoy of the lot”
“Ain’t that a pity” Gerard mumbled. “Well anyway Charlotte. Charlotte; such a nice name. Where are you from, Charlotte?” Up until that date I had never been informed of how lovely or nice sounding my name was. At least not to such a degree.
“I’m originally from Portland; Portland, Oregon.” I paused “And no, I don’t have a problematic drug habit.”
“But you have a drug habit?” Gerard questioned. Had he not been listening to me?
“No I just told you that I didn’t” Gerard opened is mind to retort back.
“No” he began. “You said that you didn’t have a problematic drug habit.” In some strange and skewed way, he made a valid point.
“Well what would make you assume that I had any?” I asked.
“Well you mentioned it” Gerard suggested.
“Only so you wouldn’t!” I defended.
“And what would make you assume that would mention such a thing?” he had caught me there, granted I did have a reason. I just didn’t have the proper way to execute it.
“Because” I began “Because it sounded just like the type of snarky remark you would make.” I retorted. Gerard shook his head at me smirking lightly.
“Ah!” he exclaimed “So now it is you who is assuming things!” I scoffed at this remark.
“Well it not like you have been so gracious in telling me about yourself” I remarked. Gerard shrugged at me.
“Well, you never asked” I sighed inwardly at his words. He had a point. I had been so wrapped up in my own pride and trying to blatantly dodge him at one point that I hadn’t even bothered to ask about his life. But now I had the opportunity to and quite honestly, I was curious.
“Well I am asking you now” I stated. “Tell me Gerard, what should I know about you?” And on that note the bell sounded and my time with Gerard was up. I had always been terrible with time management. I should have asked these questions sooner. Gerard gave me that smirk again except this time it withheld something.
“I guess that’s just something you’ll have to find out later, sugar.” There was nothing comforting about that pet name. Nothing at all. What had he meant by later? Why and when was he assuming that there would even be a later? I was curious to see what Gerard would come up with next.
“What do you mean by, later?” I pressed. A look of surprise took over Gerard’s face.
“ Oh silly me” he giggled. Giggled. “I forgot to send out the invite!” By this point I was pretty much convinced that he was completely bat-shit.
“Huh?”
“Charlotte, would you like to accompany me to my abode later this afternoon?” Oh no. Now it was beginning to come together. The charming nature, questions about my past…the pet name. This was all obviously Gerard trying to come onto me. How had I not seen this one coming? Boys, teenage boys don’t just formally introduce themselves all willy-nilly like he had unless they are accompanied by hidden intentions. I was an easy target and suddenly I was feeling much more self-conscious about my body and the fact that I couldn’t quite place where Gerard’s eyes were looking. This was making me nervous but most of all, slightly disappointed and insulted. And there I was for a minute, thinking that somebody was actually showing an interest in me. Then without thinking, I responded;
“I have a boyfriend” Gerard raised an eyebrow at me.
“Is that a challenge?” he seemed almost surprised. What if his invitation had been completely innocent? Great, I had just made an ass of myself. Still, at this point I had to play it off.
“Am I really supposed to believe that you are really inviting me to your house after knowing me for less than two hours just to talk?”
“Well we’d do more than that…” he paused “I have a Nintendo Entertainment System.” I nodded.
“Right.” I honestly had nothing more to contribute than that. Gerard shook his head and by now I recognized it as him not knowing what to say in response to some outlandish claim of mine.
“Damn, now I know I have a bit of a reputation” he began “But you should know that I don’t take advantage of people. It’s not in my contract.” I continued to stare blankly at him. It seemed like the more that came spewing out of that mouth of his, the more lost I became. His words left my head spinning. I could make sense of them but I wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. He leaned down a bit lowering his eyes to meet mine and in a low tone uttered the words;
“I don’t take V-cards” that was blunt. That was really blunt. Blunt and forward, but I had to combat it.
“And you’re just going to assume that I’m a virgin aren’t you?” I spat. Gerard chucked still shaking his head at me.
“And I’m right, aren’t I?” he was. He was and that’s what bugged me the most. The bell sounded again and at this point both of us were late. I normally hated being late but oddly enough it didn’t bug me at this point.
“Look” Gerard began. “The offer is still on and whether you accept it or not I’ll be waiting by the large tree in the front court yard. The choice is yours” he paused “Think about it” and with that he disappeared into the masses leaving me frazzled and strangely yearning.

Notes

This is just the first chapter. It's been a very long time since I've written any sort of fanfic. Let's see how this goes. :)

Also, the lack of indentation on my paragraphs is driving me crazy. Does anyone know how to fix this?