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Authors: Nelvie Soliven

Tags: #competition greenvale kindergarten romance school teen teen chick lit

BOOK: What's In It For Me
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I flipped to my notebook's first page,
where my sched was written in a neat table. Not that I'm a
forgetful person, I know that I have Commercial design next, but I
still have to make sure. I don't even know why I'm taking this
class, it sure feels out of place next to my Creative Writing and
Advanced Physics class. The only thing good about Commercial design
was that it's probably my only class without Andrew Alleyn, who's
having Home Economics (tee-hee).

Before heading directly to my next
class, I decided I'm thirsty so I stopped by the drinking fountain.
This particular drinking fountain was located beside the girl's
locker room. I could hear Tara's voice along with her cheerleader
friends. I completely forgot I was part of their troop of green and
white witches that I showed up for school in my usuals, jeans and
long-sleeves. I don't even know why they wear those silly garbs
everyday like uniforms. Do they really think that just showing up
in school in preppy short skirts make them superior and more
confident than other girls? I weep for the future of
womankind.

***

"You pathetic little nepotistic jerk.
Pass me the putty knife so I can slit Mr. Parker's throat here,"
Winona told me in commercial design class, which was basically just
art class. Winona Richards has been my best friend since middle
school. She barely changed since then. Both of her parents were
hippie, and I loved visiting their house on Saturday nights if I
don't have work and singing 60's songs about peace and love. Wins,
on the other hand, hated it, for she favored more of
the-world-sucks-I'm-really-angry music.

"What, so you're a pirate now?" I
handed her the knife but I was laughing. "Why is he
nepotistic?"

Winona looked at me as if I just asked
why birds have wings. "He was like Alleyn's uncle-in-law now. I
thought you googled?"

"Uncle-in-law?"

"I heard Andrew's brother married the
Principal's niece or something like that. Anyway, slitting people's
throats was not an exclusively pirate way of killing." She held the
small Mr. Parker model clay she just made on one hand and the putty
knife with the other.

"Wait," I interrupted, "Why don't you
just resort to non-violence? You know, people like him deserve
second chances."

She dropped both items on the table and
tugged her hair (which was also black) in frustration. "Shucks Kit,
you sounded just like my parents."

"They're totally right."

"I thought you were my best
friend."

"Uh huh, that's why I'm stopping you
before you even make a big mistake."

"It's a clay model, for crying out
loud," her voice was high now, and some shot us inquisitive looks,
"it's not even bigger than my hand!"

"Oh Wins, you are such a big brat." I
patted her back in an overly-sympathetic way.

"You are so funny, do you know that?"
Winona and I laughed the whole commercial design period.

***

"Sherlock," I heard Tara called my name
through the crowd in the hallway. I was absent-mindedly loading my
locker with my books that I dropped a heavy bio book when I came to
my senses. I picked it up and looked at Tara not
unkindly.

"My parents were out of town this
weekend and I'm wondering if you'd like to come to my party this
Saturday," she said. Guessing on her tone and body language, I
think she was just obligated to invite me. Maybe it's her
invite-all-my-cheerleaders-to-my-parties-so-they'd-invite-me-too
rule or something.

"Uh," I checked my sched posted on my
locker door, "I'm sorry I have work Saturday night." This was not a
complete lie. My mom told me to watch over Wesley, which is 13
years old, by the way.

Tara put on her pleading eyes and
grabbed my hands. I have to say, I was shocked. "You have to come.
Please? Please? Pretty please with cherry on top?"

"I'm actually allergic to cherries."
Which is totally true. The last time I consumed cherries my tongue
grew the size of a brisket.

"Oh, sugar then."

I sighed, "Okay."

"Thank you." What she did next
surprised me. Never in my life have I been hugged by a cheerleader,
now Tara the cheerleader captain was hugging me. Not that it's a
compliment, it's not even close to one, and it's just that it's so
hard to believe.

I was now suspicious that it wasn't
just about the stupid girls' rule. It's about something else.
Something bigger. I have to ask her something. I got this theory
coming up.

"Tara," I cleared my throat, sounding
all business-like, "is Alleyn coming?"

"He is now." She waggled her fingers at
me and walked away pixie-like. Most of the heads turned as Tara
walked down the hallway as if it was covered in red
carpet.

So I was right. Andrew never wanted to
go to her shallow party and he devised an almost foolproof plan
that included yours truly. He knew I wouldn't want to go so he told
Tara that he'd only go if I'll go. It was a perfect plan, but he
forgot one teeny tiny detail: that I hate him so much I'd rather go
to one shallow party than make up his day.

My relation with Andrew Alleyn is
really confusing. We hate each other very much, that being a given,
but we never truly hurt each other, either physically or otherwise.
In some cases, the most popular being the time we were teamed up as
the Greenvale representatives for the all-state Battle of the
Brains, we were almost friends and an indestructible team. I guess
I wouldn't have to mention that we emerged victorious after
battling Virginia in a do-or-die championship round.

The three o'clock bell has finally
rung. I picked up my bag and headed to Toni's, were I worked
Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays after school. Of all my work
(receptionist at Sonya's Salon Saturdays and Sundays and cashier
fifteen items or less at Greenvale Mart Tuesdays and Thursdays),
Toni's Pizza Parlor is my favorite. For one thing, I totally love
pizza and second, it's just a few walks away from school and my
house.

This particular Friday there were very
few customers. I used the time finishing my homework, which was
pretty much easy-peasy. Hours passed the usual at Toni's and I
timed out eight o'clock sharp after polishing the counter, the
floors and arranging the tables. I bought a family-sized Bacon and
Cheese pizza to bring home. After waving goodbye to Toni the
incredible pizza guy and Josie his lovable wife and waitress, I
headed home with my pizza in hand.

The smell of pine trees surrounded me
as I walked the dim-lighted streets of Greenvale. What is unique
about Greenvale is that it sticks to its theme: green and white.
While everything was pine trees, the houses were all white. Some
even nicknamed Greenvale as the small town of White Houses. Each
and every house painted clean white, bringing to memory those
perfect families you see in suburban pamphlets, where they
advertise real estate. As I watched a particular white house that
is slightly larger than the others I was beginning to think that
not all families in Greenvale were perfect. The inside of the house
was well-lit, well enough to illuminate the green mailbox, the word
Alleyn written clearly on it in bold letters, but there was no one
inside. Well, none that I could see. I shrugged to myself and went
back to walking, but I heard a faint rustle by the bushes. I
stopped dead on my tracks. I could feel that there was something
watching me and it appears to be very near. I breathed deeply and
readied myself to run, but when I finally moved, a figure loomed
over me and cupped its hand on my mouth to prevent me from
screaming.

"Shush, Sherlock." Andrew Alleyn
removed his hand on my mouth.

I untangled myself from him. He was a
good head taller than me. "Don't shush me."

I noticed he was glancing nervously at
his house.

"What are you doing outside your own
house?"

"They think I'm sleeping now, but I
just got home from Big Joe's." Big Joe was the coffee shop where he
worked without pay.

"So what? Get inside."

"You don't understand, I haven't had
dinner yet."

"So what? Ask your mom for
some."

"Stop using 'so what'. My mom doesn't
cook. They order everything or just eat outside."

I felt the pizza box still warm on my
lap.

"You can have some of my pizza here.
Just make sure you don't finish it all off."

"What have you got there?" He was still
glancing back at the house.

"Bacon and Cheese."

He automatically put his hand on his
mouth and gagged. After all these years he still can't process the
idea of eating meat.

"Don't be such a vegan princess," I
pulled out a slice and picked out the pieces of bacon, "see, I'll
pick the pork out."

When I finally got all the bacon pieces
out, I handed the pizza slice to Andrew. He was unsure but he took
it. I bet he was really hungry. Even I myself will refuse to eat
something handled by someone else.

"Uhm, thanks. I guess," was all that he
could say before eating up the slice of pizza. I pulled one for
myself and we ate while sitting by the curb. If this was happening
to other people, you might even say that this is kind of romantic.
That kind of stuff will never happen to Andrew Alleyn and me, Kit
Sherlock.

"So what's your plan?"

He just looked at me, his blue eyes
reflecting the moon, clearly not understanding what I just
asked.

"How are you gonna get
inside?"

He nodded as if he suddenly understood
all. "I'll wait for them to fall asleep and I'll climb up my
bedroom window."

Seriously? He's gonna climb up his
window like a common burglar? I cannot believe this guy's
parents.

"And what time is that,
exactly?"

He shrugged, "I don't know, ten
maybe."

My eyes widened. I looked at my watch
and read the time: 8:45. "You're going to wait here until
ten?"

He only shrugged as if this was common.
He swallowed the last of his pizza. For a moment, nobody said
anything. I wanted to leave, but the thought leaving him right
there on the curb all alone felt horrible, evil even.

"You should go now; your parents might
be looking for you."

I guess he's right. But did he just say
'parents'? Oh well, I don't mind. I shut the lid of the pizza box,
tied the ribbon and stood up.

"You're right."

"Thanks for the um, dinner."

I shrugged, "No problem," then turned
to leave. I've just walked exactly twelve steps when I heard
Andrew's voice called from behind.

"See you tomorrow night,
Sherlock."

***

I spent my Saturday working at Sonya's.
Due to my friendliness and my erudite personality, I easily get
along with people. My job was even easier. All I have to do was to
mind the cashier, answer phone calls and make appointments. This
particular Saturday, Sonya, the owner of the salon was attending a
wedding reception nearby so we have to close early. That gave me
more time to prepare for Tara's party. I forgot a tiny detail when
I planned on ruining Andrew's Saturday night: I haven't been on a
high school party. Nobody ever invited me. Besides, I wouldn't have
come even if someone did.

"I'm home," I called out to no one in
particular as I opened our front door and stepped inside. It was
just our family custom. My mom peered out from the kitchen and
greeted me, "Oh, hi honey."

I removed my jacket and dropped my
sling bag on the sofa, where Wesley was reading the latest issue of
Reader's Digest. I subscribed to it, but Wesley always got his
alien paws on it first before I can even see the cover. I thought
about asking my mom for tips when attending a high school party,
after all, she was one of those popular kids back when she was in
Nebraska.

"Mom," I approached her as she prepares
a complicated Indian dish, "I was invited to this party
tonight."

She smiled at me, as if it's been the
first time I'll be out socializing with people, which was not true
at all. I'm a very outgoing person, it's just people tend to ignore
me. I wonder how Andrew Alleyn invokes attention without even
meaning to.

"That's nice. Be sure to come home by
twelve and drink lightly."

"I won't stay that long. Plus, I don't
drink."

"Oh honey, you're eighteen years old.
In few months you'll leave high school. Go out, have fun. Life is
too short. Just don't get trashed like there's no future to worry
for."

"I know better. Thanks mom." I turned
to head to my bedroom.

My bedroom has been my private place
for as long as I can remember. Outside, a neat sign that says
"Kit's room, Go away" hung neatly on the door. The inside was
decorated by me. The floor was covered by a cheap fluffy blue
carpet I bought from a nearby D.I.Y. shop and the wallpaper reminds
you of night time in a city. Since second grade, I was collecting
glow in the dark stickers and has been sticking them on the wall.
By now, my bedroom wall was practically covered with glow in the
dark stars, moons, comets, spaceships, etc., that when the lights
were off, I wouldn't need a night light.

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