Rosalie vs. Lauren: The Epic Battle of the Blondes
From the moment they first laid eyes on each other, it was war. Both proud, both pretty, and both demanding dominance in the same tiny high school, it was inevitable that they would eventually clash. The thing is, no one expected it to be so vicious.Please Read and Review!!! :D
Alrighty guys, this is my first multi-chaptered fan-fiction story ever submitted under the heading 'Twilight.' I hope you guys like it! It is shallow and ditzy and stupid-seeming, but hey, that's comedy right? lol, read and review por favor!
5. Love is in the Air
Rating 0/5 Word Count 6418 Review this Chapter
Love is in the Air
Pissed wasn’t quite the word to describe the way I was feeling following Rosalie’s little pranks. Murderous or homicidal-and-willing-to-eat-puppies was closer to the mark. Incensed beyond mental stability was another good one.
So I stewed. And threw fits and screamed and broke a few Christmas ornaments. My parents had been politely concerned, but they were used to my rage. After all, I wasn’t exactly known for peacefully resolving my issues. Rosalie was just asking for it.
Most of winter break I had sat at home and thought of different ways to kill her. A chainsaw would be nice, but messy. Death by garbage disposal was temping, but the idea of gouging her eyes out with a spoon and watching her bleed to death sounded better. My personal favorite involved lengthy hours of torture, and then the final blow delivered with my clumsy, cheap Fashion Award embedded in her head. Salt in the wounds.
After my rage had fractionally died down, I set on plotting various ways to get revenge. Rosalie’s attempt to destroy my life would not go unpunished.
Of course it was difficult to imagine ruining her life when I was friendless and alone. Rosalie’s little rumor had utterly smashed my reputation, causing Jessica to avoid me and Tyler and Mike to pretend to be sick whenever I called. Everyone else made up excuses in order to not hang out with me. At this point, I figured Eric Yorkie was my only option.
How pathetic was that?
But I needed help. So, after forty-eight hours of yoga and intense mental preparation, I reluctantly called him and told him to meet me in Port Angeles. The further away from possible witnesses, the better.
Luckily, Eric had proved to be a valuable asset in my complex, month-long plan to exterminate that stupid blonde bitch. Eric, it turned out, had been fantasizing about Alice Cullen for months now. He wanted to get Alice, and I wanted to nuclear bomb one Hale twin, and make out with the other. It was a good partnership.
We set the date of seducing/destroying for the Valentines Day dance. It gave us a month to set the stage, and for me to try and salvage the scraps of my pride and reputation.
After our meeting I promised Eric that should he breathe a word of our alliance, I would tranquilize him, peel the skin off his bones with a paring knife, and toss a bucket of highly flammable, acid-like chemicals on him. Then I’d light him on fire. Eric had gulped, nodded quickly, and ran so hastily out of the shabby café that he forgot his jacket. Being the kind, thoughtful business partner I was, I didn’t bother to pick it up for him.
I mean, ew. Touching Eric Yorkie’s clothing? Gross.
I spent the rest of winter break hammering out the details of Operation SD – or Seduce/Destroy – planning clothing combinations, and brainstorming ways to get my friends back. I figured that the only way to truly fix my social breakdown was to start a nasty rumor back at Rosalie, and assure everyone that I was dating a cute rock star from Seattle. People would adore me. I mean, who wouldn’t want a rock star boyfriend?
I even found a picture online at some male modeling agency, and printed out a few copies to put in each of my purses and hang in my locker. I named him Jazz . . . like Jasper. Even though he wasn’t quite as cute as my blonde, deadly sexy future boyfriend.
All in all, I felt pretty ready for my reemergence into the Forks social scene. I was hot, dating a rock star, and Rosalie was ‘the product of like, eight plastic surgeries. She used to be obese.’
Yep, I was ready.
“You’re dating Jazz?!” Jessica shrieked, her lunch tossed aside and her hands waving about wildly, “oh my god, you’re dating a rock star!”
I smiled smugly, “He is so cute. And like, the best kisser.”
“God, you are so cool,” she shook her head in awe, “I’ve only ever kissed Mike, and he’s so not in a famous band. You’re like, a legend.”
“I know,” I tossed my hair, and glanced at Rosalie from the corner of my eye, “being hot brings you a lot of things.”
Jessica squealed, “Will you introduce me sometime? Or get me an autograph? I just think its so cool that you know somebody famous!”
“I don’t just know him,” I corrected saucily, “I made out with him.”
Well, not really. It’s hard to make out with an imaginary person. A bit complicated.
“You look skinner than usual too,” Jessica inspected my flat, tanned stomach that was revealed by my hot pink t-shirt, “have you been on a diet?”
“No,” I inspected my fingernails, “I’ve been doing a lot of yoga. Maybe that’s it.”
Jessica giggled, “Speaking of skinniness, did you hear that Rosalie Hale used to be a fat kid? She had her stomach stapled or something, and a boob job. She’s a total fake.”
I widened my eyes in false shock, “Oh my god, no way!”
She nodded, biting her lip eagerly, “Yeah, her body was totally paid for. I saw a picture of what she used to be like, and let me tell you, it’s not pretty.”
Ah, the wonders of Photoshop. That picture had taken me maybe five minutes, and then a few quick ‘anonymous’ emails later, and bam. Popularity down the drain.
“How many people know?” I asked casually, “I mean, if that gets out to everybody, then she’s ruined.”
“It hasn’t spread too much,” Jessica sniggered, “but I’ve been needing some gossip. I think I’ll give this one around – it’s a good one.”
Thank you Jessica, for unwittingly aiding me in Operation S/D.
I glanced again at Rosalie. She was sitting at her usual table with the Cullens, her outfit flawless and her hair in a deliberately messy bun. She looked totally unaware of the vicious rumor that was about to spread through the school like wildfire.
“Oh my god, I just remembered! We have to go shopping for the Valentines day dance!” Jessica bounced up and down, “I mean, I know we have a month and all, but I totally need new shoes! I’m going to wear that yellow dress again though, cause Rosalie said that Edward liked it, remember? So, I mean, if I get an even more fabulous pair of heels to go with it, he’ll love it. I bet you ten bucks he kisses me! I just know we’re meant to be . . . ”
I snorted. It was clear even to me that Edward Cullen thought Jessica was annoying and ugly. He probably hated her.
“You know what else? We should get new highlights! Its like, the middle of winter and everyone knows that you’re supposed to brighten up the cloudiness with new hair! We should totally do it!” Jessica squealed.
Three secret meetings with Eric, two movie dates with friends, eighteen tubes of lipgloss, a salon trip, and two weeks after the first day back from Winter Break, my confidence was sky rocketing. Rosalie was the current social ‘OOPS!’, my friends liked me again, and my newly platinum highlighted hair was awesome. I went from being a ‘pale yellow’ blonde to a ‘white silver’ blonde. I was gorgeous.
The only thing bringing me down was that stupid Eric Yorkie. The brainless kid’s obsession with Alice Cullen was the only thing tying him to me, but it was also getting in the way of my master plan. Eric was only willing to help me get Jasper, which would give him alone time with Alice. He wasn’t interested at all in destroying Rosalie.
How obnoxious was that? All I needed him to do was kiss her in front of everyone, and he refused. Said that Alice would be mad.
Like Alice would care. She was on an entirely different level than Eric, and probably thought him as disgusting and greasy as everyone else. But Eric was convinced she loved him.
He was such an idiot.
Anyone could tell that Alice was an obsessive, psycho girlfriend that was probably abusing and smothering Jasper. She was so infatuated with him that she’d almost certainly go to any length to make sure he was hers. Eric? Not a chance.
Unluckily for Alice, it was also clear that Jasper was desperately, hopelessly in love with me. And that was just a fact. I’d get Jasper, Alice would probably get arrested for stalking or something, and Eric would continue drooling from afar. The world would be perfect.
As long as Rosalie was destroyed. I mean, I was the hottest girl in Forks. No question. Alice had a prettier face, and Rosalie had bigger boobs, but that was it. I was the all-around hottest. My position had to be cemented by Rosalie’s ruin.
She had to be crushed. I would be elevated to the most popular girl in Forks with the hottest boyfriend. That was the way the universe was supposed to work.
I would make sure of it.
Besides, this hot little red number I had found would be the ultimate weapon.
I swiveled slightly, placing my hands on my hips and inspecting every inch of my body in the mirror. The shiny red fabric clung to me in all the right places, and the bad ass, utterly amazing black ankle boots I had to go with it would be fabulous. Pair it with a slouchy black belt, and a perfect up do . . .
No, Jasper wouldn’t be able to resist me.
“Lauren!” Jessica banged on the door, “lets go! I’m starving!”
“Coming,” I called back, and then winked at myself. Let the games begin.
“No, you don’t understand, the dance is tonight!” Lindsay shrieked into her cell phone, “you can’t just cancel the streamer order at last minute! No – you get those balloons to me in the next fifteen minutes or so help me god!”
I waited patiently as Lindsay, the social event planner extraordinaire, finished barking at some stupid employee at some lame store. Lindsay was known for her ruthless, violent manner, and willingness to commit murder just to make sure an event was planned just right. If she were actually pretty, maybe she would have been easier to like. As it was, she was chubby, had small eyes, and the worst 70’s style ever. Add the obnoxious personality and she was a social flounder.
“Now!” she hissed, “and get me a coffee while you’re at it – black, no sugar or cream. So hot that if it doesn’t burn my mouth, I’ll stab you.”
She snapped her phone shut and turned to smile at me sweetly, “Lauren, what’s up?”
“Hey Linds, I need to buy my ticket for the dance,” I winked at her, “I’m going to seduce a boy there.”
She giggled, “Here’s your ticket. Its fifteen bucks.”
I handed her the money, “Hey, if you see anybody have any . . . embarrassing accident of any kind, don’t bother helping them okay? You should just focus on really enjoying yourself. You earned it!”
My sugary sweet, entirely faked persuasion worked. Lindsay lit up, beamed, and opened her mouth to speak. Before she could, her cell phone rang. She flipped it open.
“What? . . . “What do you mean he’s sick? No, you tell him to shove some Advil down his throat and get his butt down here!” Lindsay shrieked.
I left her standing there. I had only four hours to meet with Eric, prepare my Jasper-speech, make myself look unbelievably hot, and rehearse my Rosalie-destroying lines.
First up, Eric.
“I don’t see why we have to meet here,” he complained as I yanked him into the janitor’s closet, “can’t we just go to the library or something?”
“No,” I growled, “I am not being seen with you. You’re like, social suicide.”
“Thanks,” he said sarcastically.
I took a deep breathe, locked the door, and then threw the most hate-filled glare I could in his direction, “You listen up, Yorkie. Tonight is going to be the night that I get my dignity, my pride, and my rightful social standing back. You will do what I say, you will do it happily, and you will not whine about it! Understand?”
He narrowed his eyes.
“If you do not do what I tell you,” I curled my fingers into a fist, “forget about having children when you’re older.”
And suddenly he was quiet, calm, and had an encouraging, obedient smile plastered on his greasy features.
“Good,” I said, satisfied, “now here’s the deal. The dance starts at seven PM. Get there before seven-thirty, and just hang by yourself. I will get there at exactly seven forty-five. When I give you the signal, you will approach Rosalie, grab her, and kiss her as hard and meaningfully as you can until she ends it. You will make it look as though the two of you do this often. Very often.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but I mimed smashing something with a mallet, and he shut his mouth.
“At eight twenty-five, Alice will receive a message for her to report immediately to the girls locker room for an emergency planning meeting. You will be there waiting for her. Do whatever you planned.”
Whatever you planned. Strangely ominous sounding considering Eric was a proud, religious virgin. He probably wanted to do something risky – like holding her hand.
“While Alice is otherwise preoccupied, a girl will run up to Jasper and tell him that Alice is looking for him in the boys locker room,” I grinned deviously, “I’ll be there.”
Eric cleared his throat, “And if everything works out, we both have dates at the end of the evening, and Rosalie is embarrassed?”
“Not embarrassed, devastated,” I snapped, “she’ll be done. Over with.”
“Yeah, about that,” he mumbled, “I don’t want to kiss her.”
I looked at him squarely, shooting acid out of my pupils, “Eric Yorkie. If you do not kiss her, and make it convincing, then you will wish for death. I will not only hurt you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine, but I will also ruin any social aspirations you may have, and delete the ‘Alice’ part out of our plan.”
He sighed, “But Alice will be upset. And I don’t even like Rosalie.”
Well, at least someone didn’t.
“Do it anyways,” I ordered, “pretend its Alice. Or your dog. Whatever you fantasize about these days.”
Eric turned faintly pink, which contrasted terribly with the yellow cleaning bucket behind his head.
“Are we clear on our roles?” I demanded.
He nodded, “You signal, I kiss her, I go to the girl’s locker room, I . . . talk to Alice. You do your parts. We both win.”
Satisfied, but still slightly suspicious, I unlocked the janitor’s door, “Stay in here for ten minutes. When you don’t hear anyone outside, you can leave.”
I slammed the door shut before he could respond.
Being the conniving bitch I was, I had sent out another Rosalie-crushing text message the morning of the dance. As I stood in my bedroom, thickly applying smoky eye make up and trying not to get any powder on my dress, my phone buzzed.
I grabbed it.
Jessica: OMG!! Rosalie Hale and Eric!! Look!
She had sent a picture to go along with the shocking text. I scrolled down proudly, and looked at the blurry rendition of a greasy boy and blonde girl, pressed together in a room that could be mistaken for one of Forks High School’s empty classrooms.
Ah. Sweet success.
I typed back: No way! Send 2 every1! Lol, she is SO gross!
I went back to lining my eyes with thick black liner, causing the light blue color to pop even more. Not five minutes later and my phone buzzed again. And again. And again!
Ashley: Ewwwww! Nerd love!
Tyler: Damn. Way 2 go Eric! You lucky man
Mike: Umm. Wow. Congrats 2 Eric . . .
I scowled at Tyler and Mike’s reactions.
Jessica: Do u think she’ll show up @ the dance???
Of course she would. She was Rosalie. She’ll be there. Trust me.
As I coated on my thick black mascara, strapped on my black ankle booties (designer rip off, of course) and twisted my hair up into an elegant knot, I felt more than ready for this evening. The plan to ruin Rosalie was already set in motion, and the plan to marry Jasper was begun by me wearing this short, sexy outfit. After all, he seemed to like a little edge in his girls. Thus the six inch black ankle booties.
When I was done I took a step back and surveyed myself on last time.
Oh yeah – I was so hot. Rosalie, prepare to crumble. Jasper, prepare to melt.
I grabbed my hand purse – filled with a few coins, some bright red lipstick, a mechanical pencil, and my phone – and glanced at myself again.
Valentines Day truly was the best holiday.
Rihanna’s latest hit blasted from the crappy speakers in all corners of the gym. Some DJ, who looked sick, miserable, and exhausted, continued popping vitamins like altoids. Red and pink streamers adorned the walls, and big, lip-shaped balloons floated up towards the ugly gym ceiling. Lindsay, in all her obsessive, controlling glory, was overseeing the food table as though if anyone put one pink Hershey’s kiss out of place, she’d hack at them with a chainsaw.
Ah, the beauty of Forks High School’s dances.
I worked my hip-shaking Shakira moves in the center of the floor, ignoring my group of embarrassing, uncoordinated friends that flung about around me. Jessica in particular looked absolutely pathetic – her attempts to booty pop made me want to hurl. And immediately disown her.
“Looking good, Lauren!” Tyler called from over where his group of boys was lounging. I winked, blew him a kiss, and shook my ass in his direction.
The big, plastic clock on the wall read eight-fifteen. The party had been rocking for a little over an hour, and my diabolic plan to destroy Rosalie was about to be set in motion.
Of course, the second I had strutted through the gym door, my desire to incinerate her and only increased. Rosalie had worn a hot pink, short, slinky dress with an entirely bare back. Only thin silver ribbons held the shimmering fabric above her heaving boobs. Her hair was up in a long, curling ponytail, and her six inch silver stilettos made my ankle boots feel embarrassed. All in all, I couldn’t wait to crush her.
But what had really surprised me was that Alice, for the first time, actually surpassed Rosalie in terms of utter fashionableness and beauty.
She had worn her usually spiky, edgy hair in a sexy, tangled mess. The cloud of black waves framed her high cheekbones, and illuminated her piercing gold eyes. Her lips were painted a deep, ridiculously perfect red.
Her face made me feel like a dirty, ugly troll.
Her dress – a high fashion, tight red contraption that fit the contours of her skinny body perfectly – made me want to die of fashion envy. It was strapless and mini, and constructed of some type of firm, body-molding material. The back had a tiny corset-esque tie up. Her shoes were tall, sexy red pumps that, again, made my ankle boots look pathetic.
Overall? The Cullen sisters were driving me nuts! What gave them the right to be prettier and more fashionable than me? God!
I glanced again at Alice, who was talking quietly to Jasper. He was his usual strong, sexy self in a black suit, but he looked a little bit angry. I hoped they were having an argument. But Alice was radiant and beautiful as ever, beaming as she held his hand.
The clock read eight seventeen. I searched the crowd as I swung my hips and twirled my hands, and then found Eric sulking like a greasy Gollum by the punch.
He caught my eye.
Like a seasoned assassin, I twirled around and made the throat-cutting sign look like a dance move. Ha.
I looked at him again to make sure he got it. He nodded, shot me an angry, vicious glare, and then began skulking towards where Rosalie was grinding against her hunk of a boyfriend, Emmett.
Knowing that if Jessica didn’t see the kiss happen and react characteristically, my plan would fail, I reluctantly moved closer to the flailing banana.
“Hey, Jess!” I shouted over some pounding rap music, “what do you think of the party?”
“Its SO great!” she squealed, doing some type of unhealthy, leg-snapping move, “I think Edward keeps looking at me! He loves this dress!”
Jessica was even more pathetically delusional then Eric.
“So, um, who do you think is the best dressed?” I shouted. Eric was hardly five feet away from Rosalie, and was just waiting for an opening.
“Oh! Well, you and me are fabulous, duh, but did you see Alice Cullen?!”
I half wanted to slap her for saying Alice was better dressed than me and half wanted to hug her for making this just too easy.
“No, where is she?” I pretended to act confused. Eric moved closer.
“Right . . . . there!” Jessica spun around spastically, and pointed at where Alice and Jasper were standing, right next to Rosalie, Emmett and Eric.
And Eric leaped.
Alright, so the guy was obviously inexperienced and kind of nasty. In the worst way. His ungraceful attack at Rosalie ended with his lips against her cheek, and then when he repositioned himself so quickly I almost didn’t see it, he ended up slobbering and smearing lipstick all over her face.
“Oh my god!” Jessica shrieked so loudly my ears hurt, “Ew!!!”
With a loud, sucking noise, Rosalie pulled away from Eric and gasped. Eric didn’t take the hint, and threw himself at her again.
Wow, the boy was thorough.
“Oh my god,” people muttered. I glanced around excitedly. Alice and Jasper both looked amused, Emmett was horrified, Ashley and Tea looked excited, and just about everyone else looked nauseous.
“Ew you perv!” Rosalie screeched, disentangling herself and throwing Eric off her. He stumbled backwards, with a rather confused look on his face.
Emmett stomped forward, “Don’t touch her, Yorkie!”
Eric cringed. I didn’t blame him – that Emmett kid was huge. Big enough to eat Eric for breakfast.
“Do that again and I will break your face!” Rosalie screamed, “Ew!”
In a brilliant, admirable spark of acting skill, Eric looked hurt, “But, after all we’ve done . . .”
The whispers grew louder. Alice giggled. Rosalie looked the perfect mixture of nauseated, shocked, and unbelievably pissed. “I would never. . .,” she hissed, too angry to finish her sentence. Emmett growled. I hoped he broke up with her over this.
“God, its true!” Jessica screeched, “Rosalie Hale is totally into Eric! She cheated on Emmett for a geek!”
The whispers turned into full blown shocked exclamations. Rosalie looked angry enough to rip Eric limb from limb, while Emmett’s hulking boyfriend routine just became even more menacing. I stifled a grin.
“I can’t believe you!” Eric stormed. He turned around and stomped through the crowd, disappearing angrily into the throng of pink-and-red people.
Rosalie gaped after him. Emmett flexed his muscles.
Finally, Rosalie grit her teeth, cast an acid-like scowl at everyone in the vicinity, and stormed out of the gym doors. Emmett trailed after her.
The door slammed behind her.
I watched Jasper anxiously to see if he would follow his siblings, but he luckily stayed at the far end of the gym. Alice was giggling obnoxiously in his ear. I wanted to stab her with a fork.
Of course in two minutes, I’d do the next best thing. Set her up with Eric. The kid was like a disgusting, highly flammable, greasy mess. Rosalie had probably contracted some type of terrible disease from that close contact.
“Can you believe it?” Jessica squealed.
Mike raised his eyebrows, “Damn, Eric.”
Tyler, from across the gym, shouted something about Eric being a god. Well, at least I had done one good deed in my life. Congratulations Eric – I just made you a legend. Even with your unbelievably repulsive, swamp-rat looks and terrible stench, I had made you popular. How many people can do that?
The clock on the wall read eight twenty-four. I turned around, found the stupid senior I had asked to do the job, and glared at her.
She turned pink, held the note in her hand tighter, and marched purposefully towards Alice Cullen. Her bravery, or just plain stupidity was what made me pick her. I knew she’d get the job done.
I bobbed my head, ignored my friends gossiping, and watched as the senior delivered the note. It went well, as far as I could see. Alice, in all her stupid beauty, accepted the note with a heart-melting smile. She had kissed Jasper’s cheek and skipped off through the crowd.
Now that the annoying, psychopathic girlfriend was out of the way, me and Jasper could state our feelings for each other.
The other stupid annoying senior that I had employed looked at me, and looked at Jasper in terror. The idiot. Should she mess this up I would fillet her. But I couldn’t stay around to watch this one – I had to be in position. So I leaned over and murmured to Jessica, “I left my purse in the locker room, I’ll be right back.”
“Okay!” she said happily.
My stomach filled with something ditzy and stupid – like carbonation bubbles – as I shoved people out of the way. It was strange. I had fantasized about the moment for months, but now that it had arrived, I was all girly and nervous. Stupid insecurity.
Jasper was in love with me. He would appreciate my forwardness and bravery.
I pushed against the door of the boy’s locker room, but rocked back on my heels as the stench of dirty socks and smelly boy hit my nose. Ugh! Have any of them even heard of air freshener? Or opening a damn window?
I breathed through my mouth and entered the dark humid space. The light flickered on, and I appraised the dingy, dirty room.
Well, I could have found a cuter place to seduce him. But this would have to do. Like a giddy schoolgirl, I sat on the bench and crossed my legs. Then I jumped up and leaned alluringly against the lockers. Then I sat back down and looked over my shoulder. Then I stood back up and struck a confident, I’m-so-sexy pose.
Finally, I took a deep breath, regretted it because of the stench, and stood tall. He would love me. He would.
The door cracked open, “Alice?”
The second the girl had delivered the note; I knew exactly what was happening. I saw that Eric was anxiously waiting for me, and that this was nothing more than a ploy for him to speak to me. He was desperate.
And I knew that if I didn’t halt his hopes immediately, then his little fantasies would only increase and it would only get more awkward. So I needed to let Eric know that I was happily taken. He needed to find someone else to think dirty virginal thoughts about. No matter how used to the attention I was, it still irritated me. I was Jasper’s. No one else’s.
I pushed open the door to the girl’s locker room, and wrinkled my nose at the burning, overpowering smell of hairspray and perfume. Although undeniably better smelling then the revolting boy’s locker room, I still hated being in such a confined space with so many chemicals. It was awful for my senses.
“Alice?” Eric said timidly.
I pretended to be surprised as I saw him cowering by the wall. His greasy hair dripped down his neck, his acne sprouting inconveniently all over his jaw and neck. What an utterly unfortunate person.
“Eric?” I squinted into the perfectly clear darkness, “is that you?”
“Uh – yeah,” I saw him wring his hands, “um, sorry. This isn’t an emergency planning meeting.”
Of course not, “What’s going on?”
He turned a faint shade of red. It looked awful with his acne and overall pallor, “Uh, well, I just sort of wanted to talk to you.”
“Okay,” I said cheerfully, “talk on.”
My happiness gave him confidence. He stood taller, “You look really nice, Alice.”
“Thanks!” I replied. I knew I looked good. I had spent hours working my hair and make up to perfection. The designer dress was the kicker though – I had flown to Paris during fashion week to get it.
“And, uh, well I just want to say,” he lowered his voice, “um, well do you think you want to go get a coffee sometime or something?”
Well see Eric, there are multiple things wrong with that scenario. One – I don’t drink coffee. I prefer something a bit more gruesome. Two – I’m madly in love with my vampire husband. Three – I don’t like you.
“What do you mean?” I sounded perfectly innocent and confused, “as friends?”
“Er – no,” he twisted his hands so hard I feared he might injure himself, “as, well, something . . . more.”
I paused, and tried to look awkward. Then I sighed, “Eric, I can’t. I just don’t feel the same way. Plus, I already have Jasper.”
“I know,” he shrugged ‘Jasper’ off as though he was nothing but a minor inconvenience, “but that’s okay! I know that you’re afraid of what people will think, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of you!”
“I’m sorry, really,” I smiled sympathetically, “but its not going to happen.”
“Alice, don’t deny your true feelings,” he urged, “be honest with yourself.”
How delusional could this kid get? He was almost as bad as Lauren with Jasper! And she was worse than Jessica and Edward!
I looked at him directly, “Eric, I love Jasper. I don’t like you like that. I’m sorry.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but my attention was diverted. A vision.
Lauren, pressing Jasper against the lockers. She fought to kiss him, struggled to get close enough, but his hands pushed her away. He looked panicky, scared. She growled and launched herself at him . . .
“Alice?” he looked confused.
“I have to go! I’m sorry,” I tried to look regretful, but my mouth refused to move from its current outraged snarl, “bye!”
I whipped the locker room door open, flitted to the next, and flung myself into the disgusting boy’s locker room without pausing to knock.
“Halt right there, Mallory!” I screeched.
“No,” he said flatly.
I tilted my head, “C’mon Jasper – I know you like me. Just one date? One kiss?”
“No,” he repeated.
Even though he was being stubborn and rejecting me out of fear of Alice, I still thought he was sexy. His arms were crossed and his jaw was set. I made sure I wasn’t drooling, and then continued.
“Jazz,” I pouted, “I love you. Won’t you just admit your feelings so we can be together?”
He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off, “You know its true! Deep down, in the depths of your heart, you know that we’re meant to be together!”
He hesitated, “Look, I just . . . I’m in love with Alice. I don’t feel the same way. I’m sorry.”
Oh my god. He hesitated! He liked me!
Empowered with fresh confidence, I moved slightly closer and batted my lashes, “Stop lying to yourself Jasper. She’s controlling you! Break free and be with me – your true love.”
He stepped backwards, pressing himself against the lockers, “You have to stop. I don’t like you, I love Alice. Don’t you understand?”
“All I understand is that we’re soul mates,” I winked seductively.
He groaned in something resembling torment, or frustration, “Lauren, I don’t like you that way! At all! Can you please just drop it, and find someone else?”
The idiot. Quit suppressing your real emotions!
I shook my head sadly, “I can’t. Every time I try . . . I think of you.”
Okay, there was no way he could resist that one. At all. That was like . . . pure, amazing, soap-opera like delivery. He would melt.
I stepped closer.
“Lauren,” he said warningly, “you need to stop this.”
“What’s the point?” I licked my lips, “I love you, you love me, we need to stop fighting this. Lets kiss already. Forget Alice and Tyler and Mike – all of them. None of them matter. Its just you and me.”
“Lauren,” he repeated threateningly. His golden eyes flashed with something; passion, maybe?
I moved even closer. One tiny step and my lips would be pressed against his . . .
“Don’t touch me, Lauren,” he warned, “I’m serious. I love Alice – she’s my whole world. Stop deluding yourself.”
“You stop deluding yourself,” I purred, “I know you want me. Lets get this started.”
“No, wai - ”
I ignored him, cut him off mid-sentence, and pushed myself up to kiss him. I gripped his collar, and forcefully tried to make my fantasies come to life.
No such luck.
For such a tall, lanky, sexy man, Jasper had muscle. He held me off easily, his face betraying his emotions. Panic, fear, horror . . . he was terrified of letting go and really loving me. Aw.
“Ooo, sexy,” I smirked, glancing down at where his hands were gripped around my forearms. He looked panicky.
“Lauren – you need to stop now,” he snapped. His deep, seductive voice dredged up a hint of a southern accent in the heat of the passion-filled moment.
I tensed my muscles, sucked in my breath, and prepared to spring – to make him see the light – when I was stopped by the door flying open and a Tinkerbell-like voice shrieking, “Stop right there Mallory!”
The possessive, psycho girlfriend rushed over, squeezed between my soul mate and I, and caused me to stumble backwards. Then she twisted around, kissed Jasper on the throat, and then shot me a death glare.
“Mallory, you touch him one more time and I swear . . .”
Jasper nodded in agreement, “Let it be, Lauren. I love Alice. You don’t love me – you lust after me. There’s a difference. Find somebody you truly care about.”
I felt myself grow a little faint, my heart swelling to twice its normal size. He was so sweet!
“I’ll love you until the end of time,” I promised, “the second you finally get rid of the crazy head over there, call me. I’ll be here.”
Alice shot me a withering look, “Oh shut it Mallory. You are beyond insane if you actually think he would ever call you.”
Well then, I must be insane. Because Jasper Hale was going to call me, as soon as he got rid of the psycho. We were meant to be together.
You just wait.
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- 18 Jan 08
- 15 Oct 09
- In Progress