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Reborn, Chapter 1
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I really like it! its great! I already love Steven! I reackon its really funny! I love pancake syrup lol.
Me too! I like it very much! It was sweet ^_^. I keep wondering what it is up with him now *hmmmmm*
haha you'll just have to see if you really like it. I'm working on more of it as we speak. thank you. i'd very much like help on it.
that was really good!!! i have a craving for syrup now...
Did people want me to post the next chapter... or no???
okay thanks you guys. just keep me updated on your opinion or anything. i'm really open!!!
My life went down hill in a short period of time. I lost everything, my family, my best friends, even my life. And the kicker is I was okay with it, because I had him, Steven Johnson, my boyfriend. We’ve been going out a little over eight months now and I was okay with my life crashing down as long as I had him in the end.
The funny thing is that Steven and I would have never met if it weren’t for school. See, he was the stereotypical A+ slacker. He was quiet and private. If he wasn’t being asked a question then he wasn’t entwined with the class in any form. He sometimes would sleep, but usually he wrote in this little journal he carried around. Steven was one of those students who never tried, but knew the answer to everything. The teachers gave up on getting his attentions since it wasn’t necessary, I guess. Everyone envied his talents, but never approached him. It wasn’t social suicide, but he just seemed like a buzz kill. Why ruin your day to get some help on two questions in English and maybe a polite yet awkward conversation? I’d never consider talking to him, to be honest. I’m one of those people who aren’t hard to please and my current life was pleasing me just fine. I was content in my little bubble.
Steven Johnson and I met our sophomore year in literature class. We were in Mr. Clipton’s class and he was the kind of teacher who made your assigned seat the permanent seat for the entire year. Steven and I were alphabetically next to each other.
My name is Julietta Morgan and our last names were just close enough. It frustrated me to be stuck with him. He always had a simple, tight graphic tee with dark jeans. He just couldn’t care less and went through the motions of the day, never living it. Those people frustrate me. I might be plain but I still try. Why waste your life? And everyone knew Steven even if they never talked to him. He just was there and everyone somehow knew his name. Why was he so great to be noticed so instantly? I, on the other hand, wore plain-Jane clothes and a lame smile. That was my trademark. No one remembered my name and I seem to look like every other girl. People always called names out to me. ‘Hey Jennifer, hey Haley, dude its Claire… oh sorry, isn’t your name Ashley?’ Just because I have brown hair and eyes doesn’t mean all brunettes look the same. I blended into the wall because I wasn’t memorable. Thank goodness for Stacy and Leah though. They’ve been my best friends since elementary and are the only ones who kept my life afloat. I had a good relationship with my family and my best friends were over every weekend for some awesome girl time.
Everything changed, though when I decided to do a common Julietta move. I stumbled, bad. Sometimes my left foot just likes to pick a fight with the right and I go down for the count. This time I went down on top of Steven. We mainly kept to ourselves for most of year until I fell. When I say that, I mean we only did the one-word answers and we never bumped each other. He avoided everything I went to grab. This was our first time with any physical contact. His reaction? He got tense, instantly. It was weird. From that day on he treated me like I had a disease, but would force conversation. It was so irritating. Everything he did was irritating, yet, so intriguing. From the moment I crushed him I realized how beautiful he was. His auburn hair shinned and swept graciously to the left on a whim. His eyes were so pale I felt I was swimming in a pool of gray. I wouldn’t admit it during the time, but I’d say that’s love at first sight.
Our conversations started stupid and common. ‘How’s the weather, I like your shirt, what’d you get for number four, mind explaining the homework assignment, again?’ We had partner projects throughout the year and they turned into dates. Stacy and Leah weren’t thrilled, but what would they know? They were just jealous of my happiness. In the end, they pretty much backed away from me. They don’t even glance in my direction anymore. They took the bench at the dug out and Steve gladly stepped up to the batting plate, swung and hit it out of the park. We started dating a few months after the Stacy and Leah incident. I missed them, but Steve was now the only important thing in my content little bubble.
Once we started we took it slow, I mean S-L-O-W! The tortoise could never have beaten the hare at this pace. That hare would have won the race about five million times before the tortoise saw the first bend in the racetrack. Month three we started holding hands on a regular basses. Month four he stopped cringing when we touched. Month six, week two we kissed for the first time. It was on the swing set one summer’s night. It was about time though. I’d assume he has had a girlfriend before. He’s too great not to have. I haven’t asked though since I didn’t want to tell him that the last boy I dated was Duncan Weaver from sixth grade for eight days. Obviously we didn’t kiss, but my first kiss with Steven was amazing, like a storybook. I had the normal butterflies and breathless feeling I do with the boys I like, from afar, but that kiss was sweet. Not like candy or something dumb. I can only describe it as Saturday morning eating homemade pancakes watching TV in your pajamas. The only reason there had to be pancakes in that ideal example is because his lips. His lips were like syrup and something else… I don’t know what, but the point was syrup? Not sticky and gross, but the taste was like syrup and something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it. The syrup threw me for a loop though. Did he eat pancakes everyday? I had to ask. After countless kisses of syrup I had to ask. So I did in the middle of our seventh month.
We were lying in the grass towards the end of summer. It was just past dusk and he arms were wrapped around me tightly. I was as happy as a clam. He leaned in and kissed my forehead. I tilted my head back and he gave me a teasing peck. Syrup and that whatever other flavor was there, lingering. All I could think of was syrup. I can’t help I’m so simple minded. The syrup was of dyer importance at the moment. The unknown taste could wait.
“What’d you eat today?” Such a random question, I just buried my face in his arm awaiting a response.
“Random? Is this about your weight or something? ‘Cause you know your the thinnest person in the world. Just because you ate one more hotdog than me yesterday doesn’t mean anything.” He was right. I am the thinnest person in the world. I am the definition of ‘stick.’ I have no curve or anything. As a soon-to-be upper classman, I shouldn’t have the curve of an average fifth grader. Most girls want to lose weight. Well, they don’t want to look like me. When they want to lose weight it’s in their hips or stomach, not chest, butt, calf, arm, you name it, I didn’t have muscle mass there. Flat as a board, front and back.
“No I just want to know. What’d you eat today?” I was desperate for this answer.
“We’ll, I had a pop-tart for breakfast.” Were there such things as syrup flavored pop-tarts? No, that’s a silly question. “Some string cheese and a turkey sandwich for lunch and my mom’s deadly meatloaf. If I taste gross, I swear I brushed like seven times for you. I’m sorry Julie.” His mom’s meatloaf really was deadly, but his flustered self always made me smile. He was so confused about my odd question that he couldn’t be lying, not that he would.
“No, no stop worrying, just curious. Well what do you feel when we, well, um… kiss?” I couldn’t help but giggle. My face went right back, buried in his arm concealing my blushing face. He usually just rolled with the punches when I get in one of these ‘questioning Julietta’ phases. I seem to have a lot of phases.
“It might sound weird but just hear me out. I feel… sparks. I guess you could call it an electrical current.” He gave me a lopsided smile. That always made me swoon.
“So like a tingling feeling that make you warm and it almost tickles? ‘Cause I get those a lot, a lot. That’s so good Steve.” That was a relief. It was hard to read him sometimes, most of the time actually, and these always just put whatever subconscious worry to rest. A smile washed over my face and I began fiddling with my ruby necklace.
When he saw my smile though it was cut short with his response. “No, like your pulse, I can feel it pump by and it shocks me. It’s hard to describe. You heart beat running through the course of your veins just makes the current of electricity pulse by.” That was eerie yet I saw it as cute. He felt so much that it shocked him, literally. Still, I don’t really know what to think. That’s not the response I was looking for. A stream of disbelief and confusion shrouded my face. He voice quickened as he continued, “Not that it’s a bad feeling. I really like it.” He sighed deeply is realization of manly embarrassment. “Just forget it Julie.”
That’s how the conversation ended and he took me home without another word. We acted normal the following day and I completely forgot about his response. I completely forgot even talking about it actually. None of the conversation came to my mind till later down the road. Looking back I wish I hadn’t forgotten or even better, I wish I never tripped into his arms. It would’ve saved me some hardships.