PLOT BUNNIES!!! GO FORTH!!! We're P. Meggy and Cat Cooper, two insane writers, in love with NCIS, plot bunnies (as if you didn't notice), cheese, and MLIA. (However, cake and brownies are mixed in there somewhere.) Each week, one of us will write a short story pertaining to a prompt the other chooses, and anything else that strikes our fancy. :) So go eat a muffin or something, and read the blog.
When I write, I don't make characters to fit people I know. My characters are people themselves, with their own flaws, their own abilities, and their own personalities. Writing this right now is hard for me. I don't know why. I make people to fit the characters.
"If you know who I'm talking about, well, my characters a pretty easily recognizable." Cat said, with a smile, as we sat outside one bright day in the middle of the night. I can't remember much of what it was like, only that I was talking to one of my best friends about one of my favorite things. "Take your character, for an example. You are awesome. Therefore, your character is awesome."
I smiled back, still feeling a little shaken. Maybe I put too much emotion into trying to convey the story, either way, I'm no good at plot summaries. Words are much easier when they are at your fingertips rather than from your lips.
"I guess, she's a little of everyone I love."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah. Her sarcasm. come on, we've already had the conversation that I couldn't be friends with someone if they weren't sarcastic."
"Yeah, those people can't see sarcasm unless it's dancing in front of their faces wearing a hula skirt and waving pom-poms!"
We laughed, remembering the joke we'd made only a little while earlier. It would later be Cat's facebook status, but we hadn't gotten that far yet.
"So tell me some more about her, then." Cat said.
"Well, she has big hair, kind of like yours..."
"This thing?"
"Yes." I smiled, I remember feeling nervous, maybe embarrassed about it. "I always thought your hair was pretty, Cat."
"AW!!!!" With that, I think my life was nearly squeezed out of me with the hug I was given.
I love you, too, Cat.
As a friend, you know. Because otherwise, that would be awkward.
But you do enjoy awkward. So maybe you'd be alright.
2. I'm sorry I didn't post a memory :) I'm working on it.
3. so...can anyone tell me what the terms 'nerdy' and 'story' mean when put together?
4. I'm not too sure myself.
5. Apparently, nerdy can also be substituted with adorable.
6. I'm adorable (Or so I've been told. I wouldn't know. That would be awkward)
7. I'm so glad people read our blog. -hugs Cat-
8. It's too awesome. XD
9. I'm currently trying to blend both this adorable story and a memory (with my own embellishments of course). You would think it would be easy. Is it?
10. <---- one day, we'll have this many followers and I will say squee.
11. Haha! Spellcheck says I misspelled squee...
12. I'm just rambling and ranting...
13. Do I need a rambling color?
14. Like Cat's rant color?
15. Cat, your mission, if you choose to accept it, (which you will) is to write a story pertaining to...three M words.
Masquerade, Midnight,(you'll never guess the last one...)MURDER!
Today's prize for ka--knowing the ka--song is sixteen coolkid points. Hah. I jus realized that that song kind of applies to me right now. Usually i just pick whatever song is stuck in my head. In this case i would be talking about being "dirty and left out"{"Dirty and Left Out," The Almost} or how "words come cheaper but the dozen but it doesnt mean a thing. No it doesnt mean a thing. I'm facedown on the floor where i've been screaming take this life from me,"{"Addiction," Transistor Radio} neither of which speak well of my state of mind.
The score right now is Melissa in the lead with 16.96589 coolkid points and Elizabeth in second with fourteen point five coolkid points and....well everyone else is clearly a loser. Jus kidding. Sorta. Maybe.
BIG news. Plot Bunnies is going places. People in four countries have now viewed the blog!! US, Canada, Denmark, and Australia!! So a big huge ginormo THX to all our awsom readers.
It has bothered me all week that neither P Meggy nor myself has posted this week. It's just rather bothersome. Despite the fact that my week was more busy than lik anything. So I'm bored. Bye. Thought the world might wanna hear bout my life....
Stay classy San Diego. CatCooper<3
P.S 13 views from Swizerland!!!!
P.P.S. I'm entering either "Within FIve Minutes" or "Will This Ever End?"to be published in my school's literary magazine. Both would undergo some editing....which one?? Here's the links to both. "WIthin Five Minutes"-- http://plotbunniesattack.blogspot.com/2010/09/said-liar.html "Will This Ever End?"-- http://plotbunniesattack.blogspot.com/2010/08/three-brownie-points-to-whoever-can.html
So i'm definitely upping the prize of identifying the song title of these lyrics to 16.96589 coolkid points....Right now our reader Elizabeth has fourteen and a half coolkid points....can you beat her??
I have just been thinking about how the world knows me and P Meggy's awkwardness, insanity, and philateling, but what about our strange moments??No. SO here are some snapshots, "framed in our minds like photographs." Okay me and P Meggy watching tv. The commercial for the episode of criminal minds where the guy is like, "I see a guy walking down the street and i wanna bash his head in. It's weird for me that no one else feels that way."
P Meggy: I saw that episode. It was really good. CatCooper: I havent seen it yet. Thank goodness for tivo!!
(a couple seconds later)
CC: Ya know, that guy has really nice hair. PM: Now that you mention it, he does.
CC: It goes really well with his face. Overall, he is really cute. PM: Yeah, he is... Wait you do realize we're talking about the UnSub, right?
CC: It's not like that stops him from being cute. Alright, who got weirded out about that one?? Okay all you, shut up.
And next on the list, us talking with the Italian about White Collar. (And she found us, we didnt actually find her.) PM: Mozzie cant actually be dead. Neal would be way too depressed.
CC: Despite the fact that he would make an adorable depressed person.
(I'm pretty sure the Italian called me a freak at this point.)
PM: When someone is depressed, you're supposed to be like "Aww, i feel so sorry for him!!" not "Aww, he's so cute!!"
CC: Really?
PM: Yeah
Yeah so thats our life. Me saying people are adorable at all the wrong times.
P Meggy, here is your mission, should you choose to accept it, and you will. Post a memory about us. I wanna read that. Haha. ;)
So, I couldn't help it. I read your fanfic, Cat, and I couldn't help but say O.o I need to blog about this. OMGG!!! (A phrase which will now continue to be used on this blog, so get used to it) My first reaction began when I read 'Edward Cullen.' It went a little something like this..."WHAT THE CRAP? WHY IS CAT WRITING ABOUT FREAKIN' TWILIGHT?!?' and then I read the lines about possibly being a pedophile, etc. Then I was laughing. xD I think the wattpad readers might have eaten you, Cat. No. Joke. So, now that I've made my reactions clear, I'm done. ~P. Megz OUT!!!
Well, except for the fact that I am most certainly at least 75827247654764732642364367467463472466566t432y475734876347589763124624357261245417684768184175546 times as awsom as Edward...and considerably less feminine. I do not sparkle, nor do I treat my emotions like I am a helpless schoolgirl.
Ahh. That felt good. The world was probably missing my rant color. So i am sighing plaintively like Edward Cullen. Today, my Vera Bradley cosmetic bag was stolen. With my nice expensive products. More than angry, i am puzzled. What kind of thief takes makeup specialized for someone with extremely pale skin but leaves money, giftcards, my bank card, phone, and Fossil sunglasses? Well, one on drugs probably, but this is highschool so i wouldnt be particularly surprised.
Ultimate Frisbee definitely made my day. I love this sport so freakin' much!!I wish i could have it everyday instead of just on Wednesday and Friday.... Oohh well. Here is what i am sure you have all been waiting for!! The challenge!!
For the week seven (seven weeks already!! Can you believe it?) challenge, P Meggy is to write a nerdy story. Any length, any POV, any verb tense. Not too hard, right? Yeah, that's pretty much it. I have no idea what to give her, but i want something nerdy and adorable. The story must be posted by P Meggy by Friday the twenty fourth at midnight. So make Cat happy!!
(Disclaimer: I don't own. Proud of it. I would steal someone else's identity to flee the shame of owning Twilight. But that's another rant for another time.)
Seventeen-year-old Edward Cullen sat in his living room after tucking his daughter in.He sighed plaintively, looking into the lit fireplace pensively.He glanced over at his wife Bella, who was giggling at Shakespeare’s perverted sense of humor, and sighed again.Her eyes flitted to his still form, uninterested.Edward continued to sigh, indiscreetly staring at Bella, waiting for a reaction.
“Edward, dearest, is something troubling you?” Bella asked after several more minutes.
He tried his best to look puzzled.“Now, my love, what might make you say something like that?”
She put down her battered copy of Romeo and Juliet, sensing a long conversation nearing.“Well, my beautiful god, I may not be the mind reader but…”
Edward chuckled.“Oh my sweet, sweet dove!How you make me laugh!”He was suddenly sullen once more.“Even on days as dreary as these.”
“What could possibly be dreary about the perfection we live?” Bella wondered out loud.
Edward sighed again, running a hand through his hair like he had heard a teenage girl say she found attractive.“It is but nothing, my delicate summer bloom.”
“Oh handsome one, you wouldn’t have brought it up if it lacked importance,” Bella reasoned.
Edward smiled slightly.“What a wondrous creature you are!To be able to tell when I am gloomy or desiring blood in copious amounts…”
“What might be the problem?”
Edward gave his dismal sigh once more.“Occasionally, I wish our lives could be something other than faultlessness.Besides the fact that I am most likely a pedophile and you have yet to make with one of the human race…”
Bella joined him in sighing.“But, my sweet, if your heart is young, does it matter if you are six and seventy years my senior?And my heart belongs to you, I doubt the fact that I never kissed anyone but a vampire and a shapeshifter who is romantically interested in our four-year-old daughter is all that important in the long run.”
“Mi rosa inteligente, you are, as always, correct.”
“And the first point you addressed is hardly material.Our lives may be perfect down to the last sparkly bit of skin and seem as if they were planned out by a woman unsatisfied by her own life, determined to create something perfect, yet I love being with you, Edward.”
“Say it again.”He closed his eyes and smiled.
“And the first point you addressed…”
“No.The part where you said my name.”
Bella and Edward Cullen would spend the rest of their lives pretending Edward hadn’t just quoted a movie, that draining adorable chipmunks and other woodland animals of their blood and life was perfectly, and that everything in their utopia was right as nature intended it to be.
2. but that might just be me and my mad typing skills.
3. So, I'm supposed to be writing this paper for History right now...
4. Can you guess what I am not doing?
5. And can you guess what Cat is (most likely) not doing?
6. the other day I was thinking about how easy friday fifteens have become.
7. Then I came to type one up...and I am now part of the fail club.
8. My notes I took in math class today (Or, more specifically, the doodles in the margins of my notes) were inspired by Cat.
9. I'd show you a picture, but I really don't feel like getting my notebook just a take one.
10. Sorry. I love you. But at the moment, not enough to get up.
11. AYUDA! Los conejos malvado complot se han escapado y están comiendo todas las piñas! Están atacando!!!!! Van a tirar cupcakes y crear un robo en el continuo espacio tiempo y los dinosaurios de liberación y unicornios para destruir el mundo!!!!!!!!!!
12. Spanish class. :)
13. (Um...no, not so much. Google translate :D)
14. Just don't tell my teacher...
15. If all the raindrops were lemon drops and gum drops, oh what a rain that would be...
I won a soccer game! (Well, technically, the team did. Sorry, guys, I love you.) IT WAS SO EXCITING!!!! (except for the few people who took it on themselves to say something either rude or insulting or condescending. And for anyone who thought of that one person, they're probably wrong. It was a whole group of people)((BUT I'M LETTING IT GO, OKAY?) AND... I have a cold. -.- -sniffle- It's annoying. I really just need the weekend...-sigh- CAT!!! -tacklehug- YOU KNOW I LOVE IT BUT IT WOULDN'T BE RIGHT IF I DIDN'T SAY SO!!! YAY! Except you know, there's something about poetry. It's always somewhat depressing, isn't it? The puppies are crying???
Fourteen and a half cool points to whoever can figure out what song i just quoted.
Gosh i cant believe it!!!! Six freakin' weeks into school!! It feels like its been at least eight and twelve fifteenths eternites... and I'm still fairly convinced school needs to happen less.Snow Days!!!! Come my pretties!!!! But life's okay.... One of my favoritestestestest people in the world turns eighteen tomorrow, and I have almost no homework, which hasnt happened in like three weeks. Not the birthday part, but, ya know, the almost no homework part. Yeah... My teachers have this strange fetish for weekend homework, which makes little puppies cry. Yes. The puppies are indeed sobbing.
So now that i have made it abundantly clear that life is okay, i present to you a poem. It is somewhat depressing, but i rather enjoy it. The same way i enjoy picking out the dispensable and indispensable characters,which most likely freaked out my English teacher today.... So! Back on track. This is a poem i wrote in like January or February. Somewhere in that general time period. Never Neverland
CatCooper I'm tired of holding this imposition Fourteen going on fourteen and a half I may as well be that plus thirty With the way i have to act
I don't think this is the way it should be I grew up to fact, just like they said What will it take for you to notice? All you say hangs over my head
They say childhood is short It will leave before your eyes That it has nothing to do with age That it's merely a state of mind
But I want to see it leave Not just see what's left in its wake Don't you understand now? I'm just a writer, not a wise sage
So yeah this is one of my less depressing ones, but, ask P Meggy, I write some creepy sad poetry. I havent written fluffy poetry in three years so yeah....
Feedback?Feedback?Feedback?
Stay classy San Diego. CatCooper<3
P.S. I was serious about the fourteen and a half cool points thing.
Everyone give it up for Melissa! -cheers!- You get your own color, for being our first submission :)
“Malignant Dishonesty” by Melissa!
“I haven’t been completely honest with you.” Andy finally told his son. Andy had been struggling with a terminal illness that he had tried to hide but could conceal no longer. He had developed a rare form of cancer for which there was no treatment. “This might be hard for you to hear, son, but I know you have to know now.” Andy had thought so much about how he would tell Tom about his condition, and now that the moment had finally come no words seemed to be able to reach his lips. “I’ve been dealing with a lot lately and been in a lot of pain.” Although the physical pain was excruciating, Andy never imagined the emotional pain would be even worse. “I’ve talked with countless doctors, and they all say the same thing.” Andy shifts his eyes from his son’s to the floor because he already knows what they will reveal.
“Dad...... what’s going on?” Tom inquired with anxiety plainly showing on his face.
“I know I should have told you this earlier, but I just didn’t want you to worry about it. I haven’t been given much time, and I just want you to know that I’m not going to hide anything from you anymore because I’ve realized it doesn’t help to put it off when it will only hurt the other person in the end.”
“I don’t even know what to say, Dad. I..... I.... uhh I just have so many questions. How long have you known about this? Is there any hope? Does mom know? What are you doing to stop it? Do you have any hope?”
Andy calmly replied, “The doctors all tell me that this will end my life, but I won’t let it defeat my spirit. I’ve known about it for 3 months, and of course your mother knows. This should be a time where we just love each other, till the end.”
“Hey, sweetie. I’ve gotten some really big news tonight, and it’s not good news. Dad told me that he has cancer, and the prognosis isn’t promising. He had to be really honest with me to tell me that, and I can’t stand keeping this from him any longer!”
“Oh my goodness! Is he going to be okay?”
“I’ll talk to you about it later, but right now I just need to know.... if I can tell him about us?”
“How do you think he’s going to react?” she responded uneasily.
“I really think he’ll accept you, especially now. He told that he just wants to love me through all his pain, and for him to say that.... wow. He never told me that growing up.”
“I trust you, so if you feel like you should tell him then I’m okay with it.”
“I love you, so much. I’ll call you later to tell you everything.”
“I love you too, Tommy. Bye.”
“Bye.” Tom hangs up the phone as the butterflies start to flutter in his stomach. He knows that his dad has experienced so much, but he also knows that he must be honest with him once and for all since he does not know how much time his dad has left. Tom musters up some courage, just enough to keep him going, and begins to walk back to his dad’s room. He slowly opens the door as last minute thoughts of negotiation battle in his mind. His eyes meet his fathers just as he says, “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
You wouldn't believe me now, but did you know that one day you'd be friends with him?
Yes, that's right. One day you and Stephen Josephson will be friends. It started when you helped him with his books, when he was on crutches. He hadn't needed your help before then, but that was because everyone wanted to be his friend. This was an honors class. No one was falling all over his feet this time. You sighed, and decided you would help him, because you were the church girl, and that's what Jesus would do. Even though you thought he had an ego the size of an elephant. Even though you thought he was truly self centered through and through. Even though you really hated the elevator. Something happened. You weren't sure what, and you will probably never know. The elevator shuddered, and came to a stop. The lights went out. "You've got to be kidding me." Stephen said, and you heard a rustle from the opposite side. "Oh, that's great. The emergency button is operating as well as the elevator." Your eyes must have adjusted, or something, because suddenly you noticed that he wasn't using the crutches. "You...you aren't hurt?" "Are you just now figuring that out?" Stephen muttered. Then, he glanced at you apologetically. "Nevermind. I didn't mean that." "Of course you didn't." You said, trying to keep up your shield of sarcasm that usually saved you in situations like this. "Watch it." He said, glaring. "We need to focus on getting someone's attention." "How do you plan on that, huh??" He stared at you for a moment, shook his head. "HELP!" He yelled until his voice began to crack. You didn't join in, though, you sat down in the corner, and tried to make sure he couldn't hear your breathing getting faster. "No one...is coming...Stephen..." "Yeah, I got that." He didn't look at you, this time, but there was a pause. "Are you alright?" "No." You shook your head. "No. I'm not." "Hey." He said, realizing that you were...well, freaked out. "Hey. It's going to be okay, alright? Just...just slow down, breath slowly..." You don't know how long the elevator was stuck. Or how you got out. You were only aware of the fact that Stephen next to you, and talked you through the whole thing. The beginning was just that simple. You don't believe that one day you'd be friends? Well, you wouldn't believe that one day you'd be married. Signed, Mrs. Stephen Josephson
I'm currently experiencing a strange phenomenon. I really dont have that much to say. And, for anyone who knows me, that is a big deal. Possibly a foreshadowing of the Apocalypse. Kinda scary really.
So i havent posted all week and it feels uber awkward.
Im kinda lik "Really P Meggy? Fanfiction? Honestly?"CatCooper+fanfiction=bad. Strange. I might be the one procrastinating this week. I mean, i usually have a first draft by Wednesday, so this week is gonna be beyond weird.
I have been elated lik all week. Ultimate Frisbee does that for you. Despite the fact that i fell on my neck/left shoulder on wednesday and then let myself get waaaaaaay hungry today. All 'cause my stupid fruitcup wouldnt open!! But yeah i have missed Ultimate lik crazy.
So i think its time to stop my rambling before i lik reveal my social security number or favorite color or some other valuable niblet of information.
Stay classy San Diego.CatCooper<3
P.S. The title is from the Aqualung song/album.
P.P.S. My favorite color is bloo.
P.P.P.S. My social security number is 7676767676767676. *cough* said the liar *cough*
P.P.P.P.S. Anybody got suggestions for what i should do for my challenge post??HELP!!
1. Bye, bye, miss American Pie.. 2. Ah, wow. 3. LONG STORY. 4. Rock band is fun... 5. Ellipses are my favorite... 6. (You know, those little dots...) 7. Apparently, no one dislikes Bon Jovi. And Bohemian Rhapsody is also a great song. 8. So, I'm typing this at 2:00, but it will be posted at 3:15. (I can do that? Yeah, I know!) 9. I have no words to explain what's going on right now. 10. Oh. My. Goodness. 11. So, have I been procrastinating? 12. Kind of. BUT I DID IT! I will finally have it done before midnight :) 14. Where did 13 go? Oh, the plot bunnies ate it... (another ellipse) 15. So, Cat, your challenge is to write a fanfic. A good fanfic. It can be any genre, any POV, and any way you want it. Just a fanfic. :) ~P. Megz OUT!!!
First, that picture is amazing. Second, it might as well be...us...that's creepy. <----------It's almost as awesome as that one. (which I'm not sure if I'm pointing at that picture or not, but I'm sure your smart enough to figure it out) THE MOST ANNOYING GAME EVER. THE MOST ANNOYING HINT EVER. I will find you, Italian. (But I appreciate the gesture of giving us hints :D) And that game...is ranked with the Impossible Quiz and Frustration Game in the most annoying. I'm still amazed by that picture. I bet you can't guess where this link leads! The above link is very entertaining. And if that didn't satisfy you...go here. Anyway, I feel like I have done my duty of entertaining you. And myself. ~P. Megz OUT!!! p.s. Have I written the story for the challenge? What do you think? p.p.s. WELL YOU'RE WRONG. I started today. :) It's improvement.
((I was bored, so I decided to entertain myself (and anyone else who decides to read our blog when they're bored) with an excerpt from Inkheart. One of my favorite books in the world.)) "You know what always got me down back in our old world, Dustfinger?" asked Capricorn as he took the gas can from Basta's hand. "The difficulty of lighting a fire. It wasn't any problem for you, of course, you could even talk to fire, very likely one of those grunting goblins taught you how, but it was a tedious business for the rest of us. The wood was always damp, or the wind blew down the chimney. I know you always long for the good old days, you miss all your chirping, fluttering friends, but I don't shed a tear for any of that. This world is far better equipped than the one we had to be content with for so many years." Dustfinger did not seem to hear a word of what Capricorn was saying. He just stared at the gasoline and smelled its fumes as it was poured over the books. The pages sucked it up as greedily as if they were welcoming their own end. "Where did they all come from?" he stammered. "You always told me there was just one copy left-Silvertongue's." "yes, yes, I told you all kinds of things." Capricorn put his hand in his pants pocket. "You're such a gullible fellow, Dustfinger. It's fun to tell you lies. Your innocence always amazed me-after all, you lie very cleverly yourself. But you're too ready to believe what you want to believe, that's your trouble. Well, you can safely believe me now. These," he said, tapping the gasoline-soaked pile of books, "these really are the last copies of our ink-black home. It's taken Basta and the others years to track them all down in shabby lending libraries and secondhand bookshops." Dustfinger looked longingly at the books as a man dying of thirst might look at the last glass of water in existence. "But you can't burn them!" he stammered. "You promised to send me back if I found you Silvertongue's book. That's why I told you where he was. That's why I brought you his daughter." Capricorn merely shrugged his shoulders and took the book from Cockerell's hands-the book with the green binding that Meggie and Elinor had been so eager to give him, the book for which he had made his men bring Mo all this way, the book for which Dustfinger had betrayed them all. "I'd have promised to fetch you down the moon from the sky if that would have done me any good," said Capricorn, looking bored as he flung the last copy of Inkheart onto the pile with its companions. "I'm happy to make promises, especially promises I can't keep." Then he took the lighter from his pocket. (Okay, unfortunately, I didn't have the brain power to come up with all of these characters, the story and the characters with it are all Cornelia Funke. So, it's not mine, it's hers. MUAHAHAHA maybe I will get someone to buy the book, just because I posted this...hehe...) ~P. Megz OUT!!!
Most people say that within five minutes of meeting a male who is moderately attractive, or at least breathing, a member of the gentler sex has already thought of which engagement ring he will buy for her, the color scheme for their wedding, a design for their first nursery, and how their firstborn will look as he accepts his diploma. Ethan Caple, however, disagreed. He would stake his life on the fact that the time period, in his case at least, would be less than three.
From where Ethan saw, at his register in Hollister, his place of work, all girls were in need of a man, and he just happened to be the one they often chose. In his opinion, it could’ve been his brains and intellect or his charm and good looks, but there was something about him that welcomed the ladies.
Whether he was walking through Kroger or East building, Ethan strutted as though he was a king among hid courtiers. His constant response was friendship extended from all and phone numbers offered from most.
His ego drove many over the edge, yet they were the freaks, those alienated from the society that is the popularity hierarchy. Ethan was graced with death-glares and looks that could kill, but rarely noticed, presumably because of a girl latched onto his arm. If he did notice, he would’ve brushed it off as mere jealousy.
Ethan yawned, lobbing a tennis ball upwards and snatching it lazily, while his fellow employee Shane frowned at him. Shane was folding shirts, a job that would’ve worked much better with two people, but Ethan continued in one-person-catch. He knew his supervisors wouldn’t fire him; he did, after all, bring many of the female costumers to their finger tips.
“I could use some help over here,” Shane muttered in an annoyed sin-song voice.
“Aw, c’mon Shane! You’re the math kid! My reflexes have probably gotten what…twelve percent better? Since our shift started, at least.”
“Well, actually,” Shane began in what Ethan called his “nerd voice.”
Ethan heard less than he usually heard from Shane’s lectures, an affect of a stunning girl with long, copper-colored hair who had just entered the store.
“Woah, stop there,” Ethan said holding up a hand to silence his coworker. “Less geek, more girls.” He winked while sliding off the counter.
“Erm…I-I wouldn’t—” Shane stuttered, remembering her from Algebra II.
“C’mon. I'm Ethan Caple! If I can’t get this one, I’ll fold those for you!”
Shane smirked as Ethan sauntered towards the girl’s section, destroying the pile he’d been carefully constructing, knowing full well he wouldn’t be the one to fix it.
“Hi, my name is Ethan,” he began, leaning against a shelf in a way that a former girlfriend had told him accentuated his muscles. “Is there any way I can help—”
“Do these shirts come in a size larger than this?” the girl said curtly, tossing a tee in his face.
He checked the size, finding that it was a large. “Well, if you ask me,” he murmured, using his “flirty voice,” “you’d be better off with this.” Ethan got the same shirt in an extra small with a flick of his wrist, tipping the carefully stacked shirts over. He made a pathetic attempt to catch the falling shirts before they hit the floor with a soft thump.
He looked up from trying to restore the stack to its pristine state to find the girl watching him with an eyebrow raised.
“So, I guess you’re using the technique where you tell a girl she looks at least two sizes smaller than she actually is.” She frowned.
“Um…” It was true that he had been doing just that. It had worked on the last three girls he had used it on.
“Yeah. I expected as much.”
More for the sake of salvaging any chance he had of not folding shirts than trying to woo this girl, Ethan smiled awkwardly and said, “I, uh, didn’t catch your name earlier.”
“Gabby.”
“So, uh, you wanna go get some coffee or something?” he asked, hoping she was second-guessing her first impression of him.
Gabby smiled coyly, reaching around him to set the shirt back down. “It sounds like you’ll be fairly busy with those shirts out front.”
Ethan looked at her confusedly before realizing she must’ve overheard his and Shane’s bet. He swallowed, biting his lip softly.
She stepped closer, grinning slightly. “You should be more careful about how loud you are when you gamble over a third party’s actions.”
Ethan took this as a good time to exit and rushed back to the register.
Shane roared with laughter at what must’ve been Ethan’s disheveled appearance. He quickly ran a hand over his hair in an attempt to recover some semblance of poise.
Shane grinned evilly before walking back to the lady’s section.
Ethan took his place again, sitting on the counter, playing with the tennis ball. When Shane reemerged a few minutes later, Ethan was surprised to see Gabby close behind. Surprised was most definitely an understatement. Floored was probably closer to the actual truth.
“Hey, cover for me.” Shane threw his name tag onto the desk and kept going. He stopped a little before he reached the door. “And you should probably get started on those shirts.”
Ethan glanced at the destroyed mess that had been a meticulously stacked pile when he went to find Gabby. “Get me an Orange Julius, ‘kay?” he yelled at his friend’s departing back.
Ruffled by his rejection, Ethan considered the possibilities Gabby brought up by him. What if every girl didn’t love him at first sight? What if all the guys didn’t want to be his best friend? What if he wasn’t really as popular as he thought? Would he end up a nerd? An outcast like Shane?
The sight of Gabby waiting for him at the end of his shift, Orange Julius in tow, cast away all those worries. They’d probably been unfounded anyways.
