Date: Wed, 13 May 2009 09:37:40 -0400 From: walrus owner <walrus5644@hotmail.com> Subject: Let Me Fall, Chapter 1 Author's Note: Hi y'all. I realize it's a little corny and all but I want to write an actual teen romance with a story, not just a random sexual encounter. If I get 5 or more e-mails about this story then I will write a second chapter. My e-mail is listed above. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- There's something almost comical at the thought of a sixteen year old teenager who's only 5'8, trying to carry a box full of biology textbooks to a library that is situated half way across the school. That's what I thought, anyway, as I practically ran across the school trying to reach my destination. I'd always wondered WHY teachers indirectly forced their students to be their messengers and delivery boys. Maybe it's because they feel that we owe them, even though they chose to spend a ridiculous amount of money to learn for four years how to shove faux wisdom into an adolescent's brain. Despite their efforts, it never worked. As you may have guessed, I was such a victim at the moment. My biology teacher had somehow incorporated an imperative tone in her statement, "Could you take these books to the library for me?". Why didn't she choose Jamie, the football jock? Or Nick, the state championship winning wrestler. Heaven forbid they miss five minutes of their precious training to complete a task that'd been taking me much longer than necessary. I barely managed to set them onto a table inside the library before I had to sit down. "You didn't place them in the correct place." Our lovely librarian snarled. She was known for expressing crystal clear disdain towards the students of Wayward High School for particularly no reason, though it'd been rumored for several years that it stemmed from her lack of personal joy. "Where do they belong, then?" I let my voice go monotone, ironically expressing my distaste for what she had just said. "Over there." she pointed towards a large table at the end of the library. I stood silently, though my arms were still sore, and picked up the box with both arms, using my knee as support. I maneuvered quickly to the designated table and let the box crash with a relatively large bang that would have made Mrs. Jenks, the librarian, cringe if she were normal. "Take this box of Spanish 2 books to the Spanish room on the third floor." Her eyes twinkled as though this thought enlightened her. She pointed to a large box that sat on another table behind a bookcase. "Fine." I said, not caring to conceal my burning hatred for her. This transport was a lot heavier than the previous, and I had serious doubts that I'd be able to make it across the school to the staircase, climb two flights of stairs, and make my way to the Spanish room. I didn't even know where it was! As I walked behind the bookcase, which was full of various textbooks, I spotted a really tall, about 6'2 or 6'3, guy. He was a student, or at least I thought he was. He had shaggy, dark brown hair that covered his ears, along with dark green eyes. Another noticeable feature was that he was pretty muscular, especially for a teen (assuming he was a student). He had a pink polo shirt on with a black undershirt, along with simple cargo shorts. He was thumbing through some textbooks in the bookcase, but turned around when he heard me moving around behind him. "Hey." he said, his deep voice filling my ears. His accent had a southern twang to it, and wherever he was from, it definitely wasn't Washington. "Oh, hi." I said simply. I was rather surprised he would randomly talk with a stranger. "Are you new here? I've never seen you around before. Granted, the school has about 3,000 students, but still." "I just moved here from Oklahoma." "Right. Why'd you move?" "Parents split. I'm living with my mom now." he told me. "That's unfortunate. I'd love to stay and talk but that bitch of a librarian is making me take this unnaturraly heavy box of textbooks to the other side of the world. Catch you around." I turned away but I felt his hand on my shoulder. It immobilized me. "I can help you with that, if you want. I mean, you look kind of small for the job, no offense." his face turned red. "None taken! I mean, it's not like my stature is hidden or anything. Besides, whom would I be helping if I denied the offer?" "Right.. I'll just need you to show me where to take it." He peered at me curiously. He probably wasn't used to hearing someone talk so much at once. Welcome to the North. "Follow me." I said as he bent his knees slightly, his hairy legs bracing him as he lifted up the box with ease. How he managed to keep up with me, or how he had the breath to ask questions and basically powerwalk at the same time, I'll never know. "What's it like here?" "Everyone hates each other. The only people that'll like you are the friends you happen to make, which won't be many. Everyone sticks to their cliques. You're a jock because of your stature. I don't agree with the rules, but I don't make them either. You don't want to have to use the restroom during the school hours. I'd rather risk getting a bladder infection than having to piss in a urinal without boundaries in front of a room full of guys that I don't know. There are no stalls, so if you have to do number two, you're out of luck. You only get two minutes for passing period, but since you're apparently the Flash's descendent, that won't matter. If you know American Sign Language, then you're twice as better off than someone who doesn't, because half of the students here are deaf, or so it seems. That was a joke, by the way. We only have two deaf students." I said rather quickly, only stopping to take a breath once. "Do all y'all talk so fast?" "Yes." "I don't believe in cliques." "You don't have to; they exist anyway." "I don't follow them, I mean." "Then you're an Outcast; there's no escape." "What are you, then?" "A nerd." "But why? You don't fit the stereotype." "You're a nerd if you don't fit any of the other stereotypes." "This logic is flawed." "You preach to the choir. Okay, so do you think you can get up the stairs?" "Yeah." he said before bounding up the stairs much faster than I could, even with the box. As I finally reached the top, I asked, "Are you a freshman too?" as I gasped for air. "No. I'm a sophomore. What about you?" "Freshman. Do you take steroids?" I asked as though I were asking the weather. "No. Why?" "You're big for a sixteen year old. What sports do you play?" "Why do you think I play sports?" "Well unless you have some hyperactive muscle tissue, then I can safely assume you do some regular rigorous activity." "I practice mixed martial arts and kickboxing." "Wow that's brutal. Why?" "Why is it brutal? I do it because it's fun and a tension reliever. Knowing how to fight can't hurt either." "Because you could kill someone with such skills. How long have you done it?" "But why would you? For 10 years." "Out of anger?" "A good fighter knows how to control and harness his or her anger." he said as though he told people this all the time. "Can you then?" "Yes." "So you don't want to throw me through a wall right now?" "Maybe a little." he said. "I'm kidding. I don't." he let a small smile crack. "Great. My bones await to be crushed another day." "If you don't like being so small, why are you?" "Look at me, man. Does my appearance scream 'CANDIDATE FOR SUPERSTRENGTH'?" "Everyone could use a little more muscle." "Oh, yeah. Is that what the man whose arms exploded said?" "His arms didn't really explode." "Okay then. Do you have any siblings?" "You're a curious person. I have a sister who's a year younger than me. She's in the same grade as I am, though, because she skipped one." "So, she must be really smart?" "She is." "Are you, then?" "I guess that's a matter of opinion." "What's yours?" "I think I'm pretty intelligent, yeah." "Why do you say 'y'all', then?" "Because it's convenient." "How? Why can't you just say 'you'?" "Because most languages have a second-person personal plural pronoun, why can't English?" "Okay." I said, dumbfounded by his educated response. "Does everyone say it down where you come from?" "Yeah. Well, everyone in my town did." "Right. Does your sister?" "Yeah." he said plainly. "Okay. Why are you at school after it's been let out?" "I had to get my sister and me textbooks, which I still need to do." "Okay. Can I see your schedule after you drop off that box?" "Yeah." he said, taking one arm off the box, leaving it to be held with one hand as he pulled a folded up piece of paper from his back pocket. I skimmed it quickly as he handed it to me. "We have Science and Math together. Why are you taking French? Spanish is like, so much easier." "I already speak Spanish." "Southerners." I said, shaking my head as I handed him back the schedule. "There's the Spanish room, I guess." I pointed to a sign that said "Clase de Espaņol". A note was left on the door that said, "Please just leave the books in front of the door." so we did just that. "When do you guys start school?" I asked him. "Monday." he said. "Are you nervous?" "No." "Why not?" "Why should I be?" he asked. "I dunno. New environment, no friends, bullies, getting lost, ect." "I have a friend; my sister. I don't have trouble with bullies, and I have a great sense of direction. I'll be fine." he said matter-of-factly. "So you actaully hang out with your sister?" "Is there something wrong with that?" he asked, rather defensively. "Not at all. I was just wondering. You don't see much of that around here." I said. "Shame. Show me the way back to the library?" "Surely. Oh, and hey." "Yeah?" "You have a friend now." I said smiling before I walked on ahead of him.