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In His Shoes: Eric Yorkie's Tale

Summary:
CRACK FIC (or attempted crackfic anyway). 2nd book in the 'In His Shoes' series. You don't have to read the first to get this one, though. Eric Yorkie is your average high school nerd. Get’s beaten up by the bigger guys in school *cough* Emmett Cullen *cough*, has a crush on the girl totally out of his league *cough* Bella Swan *cough*, and has the best grades out of his class. This is a look in the lives other than the better, more popular characters.


Notes:


1. the only chapter that will ever be written for this fic

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1571   Review this Chapter

In His Shoes:

Eric Yorkie’s Tale

By BettingAgainstAlice

I stared out the rain pattering on the window.

It reminded me of me and Bella’s love.

Always running into obstacles that keep us away from each other.

“No, I think it’s because she doesn’t like you.” Erin, my evil 9 year old sister said.

Crap. Had I been talking to myself again?

“You seriously can’t take a hint.” Sarah, Erin’s twin (who was just as evil) added.

“Back off.” Erin advised me.

“Or you’ll end up being all stalkerish.”

“I mean, she has Edward Cullen.”

“Yeah, and that Jacob dude.”

“And Mike Newton.”

“Does not.”

“Does too.”

“Why would she go out with him, he’s freaking gay.”

“Only half freaking gay.”

“But still gay.”

“WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP?” I exploded, attempting to glare at them evilly.

“God, Eric you just killed it.” Erin said, obviously not moved by my emotional outburst.

“And you looked like BoeJoe when he got hit by the FedEx truck.”

“Even worse, if possible.”

BoeJoe was their pet monkey that they bought on eBay one day. And it WOULDN’T DIE. No matter how many times you covered it with gasoline and set it fire. Or threw it in front of FedEx trucks.

I walked off, murmuring to myself.

“What a weirdo.”

“Do you think we’re really related to him?”

“Probably not.”

I tried not to turn around and beat them up with my wonderful Kung-Fu moves. I was like a tiger, fast and furious.

“You suck at Kung-Fu.” Sarah reminded me.

I was talking to myself again. Crap.

I continued walking away dramatically, though I think the effect was slightly ruined after I started talking to myself about my wonderful kung-fu moves.

I should turn around and attack them. They’re only nine. I could probably take them. But, they’d send BoeJoe on me while I was asleep. Damn. That stupid monkey seriously needs to die. I wonder what would happen if I shot it out of my rocket launcher… Wait, I don’t want to damage it. That’s my favorite rocket launcher and that stupid monkey’s butt would probably permanently damage it.

I sulked into my room. The tiny TV in the corner reminded me of my life’s goal. For, on it, Ryan Seacrest was on E! News.

I jumped up, in a renewed mood already, and plugged a microphone into my karaoke machine that I had disguised as a gaming system.

American Idol, here I come!

In the middle of Hannah Montana’s hit song, Nobody’s Perfect, when Erin interrupted me.

“Eric, are you trying to kill BoeJoe?” she asked me.

“Shut up Erin and go away. I was trying to practice.”

“Oh, we thought you were murdering our monkey.”

“Whatever. You just don’t know talent, even if it is singing in your house, in the bedroom right next to yours.”

“God, Eric, get a life.” and then she was gone.

“Meanie.” I pouted, then got back into my singing thing.

Then, I remembered the reason of my existence.

Bella.

I rushed over to my computer. I tapped a few buttons and a very complex-looking screen popped up. I tapped a few more buttons and then, I was in.

“Okay…what’s going on with Bella today…” I said to myself as I logged into her email. Aha! Three more since yesterday.

I clicked on the first one, which was a message from her mom. I said:

Good morning, Bells. I hope you had a good day. Say ‘hi’ to Edward for me. Phil had a great day today. Oops, the pasta’s burning! I’ll talk to you later, sweetie!

-Mom

That was boring. What was up with Bella’s mom, anyways? When we get married, we’ll have to do something about the pasta-burning psycho.

I clicked on the next one from Angela Weber. I read:

Hi Bella! Just wanted 2 say hi and ask u if u could do me a favor. Call me back when u can! See u l8r!

Ur friend, Angela

Ugh, what the crap is up with Angela? Since when does she need a favor? Though she did look pretty hot at that dance last year….

Bella,

Hi, this is Mike, u know, from Bio and Gym. I have Sat off work and was wondering if Edward was going camping with his family. If he is, do u want 2 come over and watch a movie? C u 2morrow, Bella!

~Mike~

I cursed Mike Newton to a painful death, and possibly a bar fight with Emmett Cullen. The stupid flirt. I wished I had never hacked into Bella’s computer to find her email address and then bragged about it the next day to all of Bella’s psycho-followers (not counting me, of course. I’m not psycho; I just have a little problem that causes me to act a bit irrationally), which, naturally, led to Mike threatening me to give it to him or else he’d tell everyone that I wore Bella’s underwear that we “found” when we “found” them next to her gym locker.

I should’ve given him a fake address.

I shook my head, knowing there was no way I could fix it now, and then turned on her webcam from where I was sitting by using some illegal hacking cheats.

She was sitting on her bed, making out with Edward Cullen, without any pants on (but, luckily, underwear. And a long tee shirt. Not pornographic at all. If it was, and my mother walked in, I would be locked out of the house for a week).

Gold.

Well, minus the fact that Edward was there (and, for some reason, fully dressed in some Amish-looking crap. He was obviously a bit confused about how to make babies…). I don’t find him that sexy making out with MY future wife. That’s just insulting.

I copied the video on a disc, then downloaded it frame-by-frame onto my photoshopping software.

A few minutes later, I watched my masterpiece.

If it was gold before, it was platinum now.

I rewinded it and started it from the beginning.

There was Bella, in all her hot glory, and then there was an insanely sexy man with bulging muscles covered with Amish-wear, but with the face of an angel.

Eric Yorkie had an almost-porno. I was so proud. Even though it looked like I had some hidden flap of skin that Bella was kissing passionately while I smiled away from her, it was still a beautiful, amazing work of art. Because that is what I am, an artist.

“ERIC, DAMN IT, YOU DRANK ALL THE DAMN ORANGE JUICE YOU ASSHOLE!” I heard Erin yell from downstairs. For a nine year old, she was very violent.

“YOU’RE SO STUPID, ERIC!” I heard Sarah call after, and then BoeJoe screech. Damn it, they were sending him after me.

I quickly opened my window and crawled out onto the roof. That stupid monkey wouldn’t get me yet.

Of course, as I sat down and looked out into the woods, I saw I giant bear-wolf-thing.

I screamed shrilly, then fell off the roof.

Damn.

*^*^*

Saturday morning.

Seven-thirty AM.

And I was in love.

“ERIC YORKIE, COME DOWN HERE, BEFORE I……” I heard my mother trail off. She never really got to the threat part. She always seemed to just fade off….

“What, Mom?” I asked angrily, after falling out of bed and then tumbling down the stairs. I was clumsier than Bella Swan (but just as sexy, if I do say so myself).

“I’M GOING TO CHURCH! I NEED YOU TO GIVE GRAMMY HER PILLS!” My mother yelled even as I stood right next to her. She had some issues….

“But Grammy smells like pee and cat litter.” I whined like a four-year-old. “Get Erin or Sarah to do it.”

“GIVE GRAMMY HER PILLS BEFORE I….” She trailed off again, before heading out the door.

I grumbled, but headed to Grammy’s room. I hated giving Grammy her pills. It took her forever to get them down, and by the time she did, she had drunk so much water, that I had to help her go to the bathroom. And then she’d show me pictures of all her boyfriends. She was a really old slut, if you ask anyone other than my mother….

*^*^*

Two hours filled with pills and old men later, I left Grammy’s bedroom and walked to the kitchen, where Erin and Sarah stood arm-and-arm, staring at me with grins on their faces.

“What do you want?” I asked in a voice that reminded me of Napoleon Dynamite. Which really sucked, unless, of course, Bella thought it was sexy. Then I’d use it on her as we made make-out scenes on her bed.

“We forgive you.” Sarah said randomly, smiling evilly.

“Yeah, we do.” Erin agreed.

“Now go upstairs and look at the link we left on your computer.”

They shoved me up the stairs, and waved as I warily walked into my bedroom

*^*^*

“Hey, look at this!” Emmett called from his room in the Cullens’ mansion.

Bella, Edward, and Alice filed into the room obediently.

“Look at this video on YouTube.” he said, pointing to the screen.

They all gathered around to watch the video labeled “My Brother and His Boyfriend by twinzzz”.

The video started, and the screen showed two people making out on a bed. The video was photoshopped very well -- the two men looked like they were actually kissing, except for the fact that one of them was smiling as the other one kissed his face passionately. The only weird thing was…

“Hey, is that Eric Yorkie and Mike Newton?” Alice asked.

“Wait, those are our bodies!” Bella exclaimed, looking at Edward with wide eyes.

“How the hell did they get footage of us?” Edward gasped.

“Hey, just be glad they didn’t photoshop Tyler into this.”

Emmett laughed.

Edward scowled.

Bella blushed.

And Eric Yorkie yelled from half way across town: “WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST LET BOEJOE ATTACK ME?!”