100 PageViews!!

This blog has only been up for like, two days and i already have 100 pageviews!! That's probably not a big deal to a lot of bloggers, but it is to me because my blogs are really unpopular. Congrats to me!

Break

I've just started this new blog and i created these characters no longer than three days ago it seems. I know it seems like the girls' troubles are centered around their ex boyfriends, but that will change, i promise. I'm still developing these characters and deciding on who i want them to be. It may be obvious that i have turned a sweet and innocent Star into a cry baby. I'm trying to figure out their pasts and where they come from. What life is like at home and how they are dealing with things internally. I have a few ideas, but none of them are final. So, enjoy these posts and please excuse some confusing traits. Things will fall into place soon, so bare with me.

Valentine's Day

(The beginning to this started as a draft that i published on Love's Got Me Doin' Time, but i never got very far with it. So, i'm using it for this and making it better!)

I hate Valentine's Day, Star thought as she parked out front of Cheyenne's house. The motion light on the garage clicked on, illuminating the driveway. Kayla's silver Cavalier was there, as was Jeanette's Nona. Looked like Star was the last one to arrive. Better late than never, right?

She grabbed her fifty-page Ex's flaws list from the passenger seat and got out of the car. It wasn't that cold, considering how frigid it'd been in the middle of January, but still, cold was cold to her. And any kind of cold was bad.

They'd all decided Valentine's Day was the perfect day to spend inside, hanging out with each other while reading their ex's flaws out loud. It wasn't like Star had anywhere else to be.

A twinge of sadness wedged in her chest. She should have been de-virgined by now. She should have been Dean's girlfriend and they should have been together right now eating dinner at Bershetti's.

But instead she'd barely talked to him in the last week, yet it seemed she spent every waking minute thinking about him. Wondering where he was and what he was doing.

Jeanette pulled open the door before Star rang the bell. Jeanette's hair was up and disheveled, as if she'd bent over, bunched her hair up, and wrapped a rubber band around it. Star took in a deep breath and her shoulders loosened.

She pulled a wide smile on her face. "Star!" She waved Star inside. "Finally, we've been waiting forever."

"Sorry," Star muttered, setting her purse on the table near the door. "Monica wouldn't leave me alone, and then my brother hid my car keys." She groaned, the irritation still fresh. Her older brother, David, sometimes was more of a pain in the butt than her little sister. Exspecially since he broke up with Jeanette.

Star unbuttoned her vest and hung it on a hook beside the door. She headed into the living room with Cheyenne and stopped just over the threshold to look around. Black crepe-paper streamers hung around the room. Black cardstock hearts, torn in half, were taped on the walls. Spider confetti was strewn all over the coffee table. Star bent down and picked a piece up.

"It was all i could find." Jeanette shrugged as she fingered a big, silver hoop in her ear. "They should make broken-heart confetti for Valentine's Day. I bet they'd sell more of it than stupid chocolate."

"Chocolate," Star breathed. "You got chocolate, didn't you?"

Jeanette nodded. "It's for later though. After the popcorn."

Kayla turned sideways on the couch and straightened her shirt. "Did you bring your list?"

Cheyenne held up her pathetic page and nodded remorsefully. "I tried super hard." Which was totally true. She'd spent the last hour trying to think of something negative about Kevin, but he was just too damn perfect. Maybe that was one of his flaws.

"It's okay," Star said, coming up behind her. "I didn't get a hundred pages either."

"I did!" Jeanette gloated, fanning her list in the air.

"She cheated though." Kayla narrowed her eyes at Jeanette. Jeanette suck out her tongue. "She only put one thing on each page."

"No one ever said there were rules for rules," Jeanette countered, tossing a piece of popcorn in her mouth.

"Where are your mom and dad?" Star asked Cheyenne, ignoring the argument starting in the living room.

For the first time in a few days, Star saw raw emotion pass across Cheyenne's face, but she was quick to recover her stony expression. "Dad's upstairs and Mom's staying overnight in Hartford."

Star didn't miss the air of disappointment in Cheyenne's voice when she talked about her mom being gone. From what she'd gathered over the last few months, Cheyenne's mom was staying in Hartford more and more.

Star felt sorry for her friend. She didn't know what she'd do if her mom started spending more time away from home.

"Should we get started?" Cheyenne said quickly.

Star sat next to Kayla. Jeanette lay down on her stomach on the floor.

"Let me go first," Jeanette said, bringing her list in front of her. "David's flaws. Number fifty: He doesn't go over his tongue while brushing his teeth."

"And you used to kiss him?" Star asked in disgust. She bent her legs at her knees, her feet swinging back and forth. The TV behind her played a commercial for diamond jewelry. "Get your Valentine something special this holiday," a delicate female voice said over the display of glitzy diamond earrings.

Cheyenne waved her list around. "I only managed to get thirty-eight flaws. So, this is thirty-eight. Kevin doesn't eat candy."

Kayla groaned. "He is such a meat headed freak!"

"How can you not eat candy?" Star asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Now you, Star," Jeanette said.

Star sat up, crossing her legs in front of her. "Dean always has to have a plan." She visibly swallowed, then nodded, as if satisfied with that flaw.

Jeanette popped a few more pieces of popcorn in her mouth. Cheyenne took a handful out of the pink plastic bowl and started picking at the buttery pieces. When was Jeanette going to break out the chocolate?!

"All right, good enough," Jeanette said. "Number forty-nine for David is he never puts things back where he found them."

"Well, that's Kevin's next flaw then," Kayla said.

"Yeah," Cheyenne nodded thoughtfully. "I guess it is."

They continued like that for the next hour. Jeanette undoubtfully had the most flaws to share since her list was the longest. Star ran out of steam about halfway through and Cheyenne had a hard time listing Kevin's flaws fifteen minutes after they started.

After hearing about Kevin's nasty BO and his tendency to jerk like crazy when he was falling asleep, Star had to wonder how Cheyenne ever put up with him. And when Star asked her, Cheyenne thought for a minute and said, "You know what, i'm not really sure."

Listing Kevin's flaws and laughing about them with her friends made Cheyenne ten times more aware of how perfect Kevin tried to be. Did he seriously not like candy? Or did he not eat it in front of anyone so people thought he was healthy?

With the lists finished, they all headed into the kitchen, where Jeanette finally broke out the chocolate. It was the expensive kind, too. The ones where you had to follow a little illustrated map on the underside of the lid just to figure out what chocolate was what. It was a game of treasure hunting, except the reward was chocolate!

Jeanette hoisted herself up on the laminated countertop, her long legs hanging over the edge. Star threw another bag of popcorn in the microwave and punched in a few numbers.

"Get off the counter," Cheyenne said, giving Jeanette a push. Jeanette rolled her eyes but slid down. Those two were always picking at each other. It drove Kayla nuts.

"Thank you," Cheyenne said, then, the phone rang.

"What?" Cheyenne said as a way of greeting when she picked up the phone.

Jeanette chewed a piece of a milk chocolate and carmel candy in her mouth.

"Star, it's for you." Cheyenne handed the phone over to Star as she leaned up against the wall and said, "Yeah?"

"Dude, where are you?" David asked.

"I'm at Cheyenne's. I told Mom that when i left. Why?"

"Oh," he said. "You haven't gone over there in forever."

"So? What do you want?"

"Dean just called here looking for you."

Star's heart suddenly hammered in her ears. Dean had called for her? Did he miss her? Did he finally want her as a girlfriend?

"Did he just call?" Dean was usually in bed by ten. He only stayed up late if he was working.

"Okay, okay." David groaned. "He called about two hours ago, but i just remembered."

"Thanks a lot, doofus!"

"Hey, i'm not your answering service."

Anger blazed her cheeks, but then she realized all of her friends were staring at her.

"Did Dean call or something?" Cheyenne said.

Star opened her mouth to make up and excuse, but she didn't want to lie to her friends. And she didn't want to start defending Dean when they'd just had the liberating experience of reading The Ex's flaws.

"Yeah," she said. She took a breath for courage. "But i'm not going to call him back."

"Hey! Hello!" David said.

Star turned her attention back to her brother. "Sorry. Anyway, i gotta go, David."

"Wait. One more thing. Mom wants you home."

"It's getting late, Star," Mrs. Waters said in the background.

"Did you hear that?" David said.

Star rolled her eyes. "Yes. I heard her."

"See you soon!"

The phone went dead. "I gotta go," she said.

"You won't call Dean back, will you?" Kayla asked, raising her eyebrows.

"No. He called hours ago anyway. He's probably in bed by now."

"If you feel the need to call him," Jeanette said, "don't."

Star smiled. "Sure."

Forget that he was born

(I know Star might not be the smartest in the bunch, but i pictured her to be very sociable and friendly so she would most definitely take an interest in school activities. i decided one could be the student council. I know these posts are out of order, but i tend to think of an ending first. i may arrange these later, but as of now, they are as is. Star, being on the student council, makes it possible for that open-mike night scene you already read about. So, this is supposed to come before that, obviously. Again, sorry for confusion.)

Star filed into the business and marketing classroom during the lunch hour, as the other student council members headed in with her. She sat down at her designated seat as Junior class president.

Dean and I have been broken up for three weeks and it still seems so surreal, she thought. has it even hit me yet?

It was like the fourth of July fireworks in Eagle Park. You saw a blast of colored sparks first, but felt and heard the boom much later.

The aftershock of the breakup hadn't even touched her yet. It had to be coming soon. All of a sudden, she'd break down, probably in the middle of school if luck was still eluding her. Her dad would lock her up in a mental institution, and when she came back to school, everyone would whisper as she strolled down the halls.

She'd graduate from high school-her parents would make her-but afterwards, she'd adopt ten cats and move out into the woods into a kitschy cottage on a river somewhere. She'd grow tomatoes in a garden, and lettuce and potatoes. She'd hunt rabbits with a bow.

After the first year, she'd speak only cat and maybe some dog, since a stray would have attached itself to her by then and-

"Star?"

Star looked up at Kevin across the table from her. He was the senior class president. He always started the meetings off.

"Yes?" she said.

"Have you heard anything i just said?" Irritation furrowed his brow. He thought he was so much better than the rest of the student council members. Hell, the rest of the school, really, the smug little bastard.

"Kevin," she said, face impassive, "I try to tune you out sometimes. You do have such a dreadful voice, a little nasal." She pinched her nose to demonstrate. "You know? It hurts my ears sometimes."

That would teach him to talk down to her.

And break up with her best friend!

Honestly, what did Cheyenne ever see in this guy?

Kevin sighed as if he expected this kind of immaturity from people beneath him. "I was saying that Mr. Thomas has brought to our attention the severe need for new marching band uniforms. We were thinking of running a fund-raiser. Might you have any suggestions?"

She hated how he talked all prim and proper as if they were in a seventeenth-century movie. It's the seventies, chump.

Tapping the end of her pen against her notebook, she ran a few things through her head. There were the usual fundraisers: car wash, bake sale, dance. The car wash was out; it was too cold. The bake sale was a good idea, but those things never generated enough cash. Dances were never well attended.

"How about an open-mike night? she said, thinking that Dean and his band could be a good attraction. "With a cover charge? It's something different. And it'll give amateur artists good exposure." Like Dean. Why was she helping him? Well, it was more like she was helping him help her, you know?

A few murmurs swept through the room, people nodded at the idea.

"And a bake sale," she added. "All in one place."

"I like that idea," Lisa the treasurer said. "The cover charge will bring in a good amount and people can come just to have fun. The bake sale will be an added profit."

"Who will bake?" Kevin asked, doubt clearly in his voice.

"All of us." Star waved at the people in the room. "If everyone makes two dozen of something, it should give us enough baked goods. And i know my friends will make something, too, if i ask."

"Where would we have it?" Kevin asked. "Renting a place out would cost us more money than we'll make."

Star hadn't thought about that. She groaned inwardly when she saw the condescending quirk in Kevin's lips. He always seemed to get some sort of perverse pleasure out of besting her.

"Maybe someone in town would donate their space," Lisa interjected. "It's for the school's benefit, after all."

A satisfied smile spread over Star's face. The first smile in so many days. "Yes. I bet Jeanette's mom would let us use her shop. It's the perfect spot."

More murmurs of agreement spread through the room.

Kevin even looked slightly convinced. "Put it to a vote. All in favor of an open-mike night/bake sale at Scrappe, raise your hands and say, 'Aye'."

Every hand went up around the tables as people voiced their agreement.

"It's decided then," Kevin said, making note of it in his workbook. "Star, for now, you're in charge of securing Scrappe for the event. Can you let me know in a week what's going on?"

"Sure."

"Why don't you shoot for March thirty-first?"

Dean's birthday was March eighteenth.

In all the chaos between them in the last three weeks, she'd forgotten his birthday was coming up. She'd bought him a gift weeks ago. The gift was now a three-hundred-dollar purchase sitting in her desk at home, unusable. She couldn't take it back.

"Star," Kevin said, plainly more annoyed than he had been the first time she'd spaced out. This probably wasn't good for her brain, thinking about Dean so much. And she didn't even want to think about how low she was feeling.

"I heard you," she muttered. "The thirty-first. Got it."

"Aren't you going to write it down?"

"I won't forget." It'd be the first weekend after Dean's birthday and more than two months since their break up. Thinking of all that time spent with a broken heart and without Dean made something slip in her chest.

Rome

(Another one i used for Freddie a long time ago. But, i changed it up a little to make it better. And i plan on using some of the unoffical stuff i wrote but have not included in the game. So, some of my old posts will be repeated here because i feel like they would go better with this new blog. It just seems to make more sense for some things to happen with a group of high school kids than a group of rock musicians and their girlfriends. Like the football thing and the woods. More of a high school thing, don't ya think? So that will be in this blog.)

The smell of crisp pages and old leather filled Kayla's nose. The history room in the library was one of her favorite places. It was like taking a step back in time. History had always been an easy subject for Kayla and therefore was her favorite, besides science. There wasn't much to the subject other than memorising facts. Kayla slipped an American history book on the shelf. She turned back to her metal cart and saw Hobbs thumbing through the other books she was supposed to be putting away.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

She hadn't seen him since yesterday this hour, and when she came into the library just twenty minutes ago to find him nowhere, the disappointment had been nearly palpable. So, she'd gone straight to work, checking in returned books and filing them away, but all she thought about while pulling her metal cart around was Hobbs.

She hadn't crushed this hard since John Travolta in Grease. Not that she could call this thing... whatever it was... a crush. She looked forward to seeing him, was all. A friendly crush was more like it.

Hobbs pulled a book about Rome out of the stack and held it up for her. "Did you know," he cocked an eyebrow, "that in ancient Rome, the thumbs-down meant the crowd favored the gladiator in the arena?"

"No,, i can't say i knew that."

Pushing the book into a random spot on the shelf, he squared himself in front of her. "If i were a Roman emperor, which i probably wouldn't be, because i'm too cool for that, and you were a gladiator, i'd give you..." He jabbed his thumb toward the floor. "A thumbs-down."

"So, you'd favor me?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Totally."

If she had a mirror right now, she'd probably see her cheeks lighting up like Christmas lights. She looked away. The flattery-was that what it was?-unnerved her.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the computer lab? Assisting?"

"No, actually." He smiled. "I'm supposed to be in Mrs. Spitzer's office calling my mother."

Kayla turned around, brow furrowed. "Really?"

"Really."

"Mrs. Spitzer's office is out there"-she nodded to the doorway behind Hobbs shoulder-"and to the right."

He wagged his fingers at her. "So that's where it is. I was wondering. Well, i should call her, before dinner is spoiled." He left the history room and headed into the librarian's office. Mrs. Spitzer smiled at him and grabbed her phone. After handing it over, she left the office.

He dialed and talked to someone on the other line. Kayla knew all of this because she was peeking out the window of the history room watching him. He was so danged cute. Just watching him made Kayla smile. And talking to him usually had her laughing harder than she had in months. If she had to pick between her sacred alone time or an hour with Hobbs, she'd pick Hobbs.

When he hung up, he glanced over at the window and Kayla ducked. She went around one of the bookcases, losing herself in the books before Hobbs came back.

She put two more books away before he popped up behind her, making her shriek and jump, dropping the stack of books in her hands. They tumbled to the floor with a thud.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said, then frowned as if mulling that answer over. "Well, okay, I'll be honest. I did mean to scare you, but not that bad." He bent down and scooped the books up. "Here."

She took them. "Thanks. For picking up the books. Not for scaring me." Her heart still drummed in her chest and her hands were suddenly clammy, but she had to admit it was kind of funny. it'd been funnier if it were someone else though.

"So, what are you doing this Saturday?" He leaned his elbow on a bookshelf, sticking his fingers into his hair.

Was she ever doing anything on a Saturday other than laundry and watching TV? Not like she would tell him that. Of course, now that she had her friends back... maybe they'd want to hang out.

"Why?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Some of us go to Eagle Park on Saturday morning to play football. I think you'd have fun."

"Me? Football? With a bunch of guys?" She raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "I don't think so."

"Why? It's not like we'll tackle you. It's just for fun, and other girls come." He paused. "Sometimes."

"I don't know."

"Okay, okay. I have another idea and you have to pick between it and football, okay?"

"I have to pick?"

"Yes, it's the rule."

"What rule?"

"The Kayla-has-to-pick-between-two-things rule. Jeez, where have you been?"

She laughed. "Okay, what's the other option?"

"Either we play football, or... we go to Stixs-N-Yarn and make my dog a sweater."

"Knitting?"

"Yes." He nodded incessantly. "I'm a master knitter. I'm a level three."

"There aren't levels in knitting."

He made a disgusted face. "Seriously? Well there should be. What's the point if there aren't any levels?"

Mrs. Spitzer popped her head in the doorway. "Mr. Daniels," she said in her best authoritative voice, "what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to ask Kayla on a date, but she's rebuffing my advances."

"Smart girl," Mrs. Spitzer said, winking at Kayla. "Just hurry it up then."

Grinning, Kayla said, "Okay, football, i guess. What time?"

"Nine. In the morning. At Eagle Park."

"Got it. I'll meet you there."

"So you can get out fast if the date goes sour. Nice." He made his way to the door. "Check ya later, Kayla." he said over a shoulder.

Hugging a book to her chest, she squeaked out, "Later." and watched him leave.

Music Class

(Remembered Cheyenne telling me she tried to take a music class. I know it was only music theory, but now i say they made you play the flute. So, there! And Michael also plays the drums, now.)

People were starting to file in the doors before the warning bell rang. Cheyenne feigned interest in her music book, keeping her eyes on the notes as she pressed the corresponding keys on the flute.

"Chey," Michael said, sliding into the orange chair next to her.

"Oh, uh...hi." she said. Fumble much?

He shifted in his chair, the blue material of his shirt bunching around his bicep. "What's up?" he said. His voice slid around the chatter and instrument tuning and hit her right in the gut. Jitters took hold of her stomach.

"Nothing," she said, resting her flute on her lap. "just going over the music."

"Are you doing anything this weekend?"

The final bell rang overhead and a few people hurried in. Cheyenne's attention flickered from Michael to the door to the teacher's office window and then back to Michael. His eyes were still on her.

She smiled. "Yeah, i've got a few things planned with my friends. What are you doing?"

"Some friends of mine are hanging out at Striker's after i get out of work. I thought if you weren't busy, you could hang out with us." He paused, nostrils flaring. Then, "No," he corrected, "actually i want you to hang out with me." He followed up with that hesitant smile of his.

Cheyenne couldn't accept the invitation, even if she thought it sounded like fun. For once, she'd promised herself and her friends that she'd wait a few weeks (maybe even a few months) before going out with anyone.

"I can't." She turned a page in her music book, faking nonchalance. "But maybe another time?"

Amelia came up and glared at Michael. "You're in my seat." Amelia took this class too seriously.

"Sorry." Michael got up. "Chey," he started, turning to her, "if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"Sure."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried up the steps to another section of the seating arrangement. Cheyenne surreptitiously glanced over her shoulder, watching as he grabbed his drumsticks in his hand and beat the at the air to warm up his wrists. Well, maybe not so surreptitiously, since he caught her staring.

Face hot, she turned back to the music book and lifted her flute up in her hands. God, how much she hated this thing.

Library

(I thought the story i wrote about Freddie was so damn cute that i wanted to change it up a bit to make it fit this blog. There are a few ideas that i had, and loved, so i want to transfer some of them over. Most of them are at the very back of my other blog so many of you probably have never seen them before. As for Cheyenne, i'm sorry, but you can read them again but with my new characters. I don't plan on making them exactly the same. I will change up the details a little bit. I'm sorry, but the dialogue will probably be the same... Hobbs sort of reminds me a bit of Freddie and i plan on making him just as cute and flirty.)


When she got her schedule that morning and saw that finally she'd gotten the library assistant position as her fourth hour elective, she was ecstatic. What could be a better blow-off class? One whole hour of school spent in the library? Going through books, checking out books. Could school get any easier?

No, it couldn't.

Plus, an A in this class would raise her GPA.

Except, when she pulled back one of the double doors of the library and went around the front counter to announce her arrival to the librarian, she ran into Hobbs.

On first glance, she thought it was Dean. They almost had identical features, both with chestnut-brown eyes, moss-green eyes, and a strong jaw line, but it only took a second glance to see all the other differences.

Hobbs always combed his hair, nice and neat, and Kayla wouldn't be surprised if he blowdryed it, too. He wore button-up shirts with a brown leather jacket and tight-fitting jeans. Dean, on the other hand, wore t-shirts tucked into his bell bottoms with a pair of heavy boots. His hair was uncut and unkempt, curls around his shoulders and down the back of his neck. Dean was Hobbs on a bad day.

"Hey," Hobbs said, his voice slightly hoarse. "Kayla, right?"

The bell rang and Kayla dropped her bag on a chair. "Yes."

He leaned an arm on the counter and crossed his legs at the ankles. "Do people call you Kay?"

Sometimes her friends shortened her name, but it wasn't like a nickname or anything.

"No."

"K.K?"

"No."

"Mckayla?"

Sighing, she sat down. "Just Kayla, thanks." Where was the librarian? And why was Hobbs here? He wasn't an assistant, too, was he?

Though she had no opinion of Hobbs-since she'd never really talked to him before-carrying on a conversation with him seemed traitorous. His friend just dumped her best friend four days ago. Wasn't Hobbs kind of guilty by association?

"Kayla, then," he said, and sat in the chair next to her. He slouched a bit, his long legs spread out in front of him. "I'm Hobbs."

She glanced over at him. "Yeah, i know."

"Sometimes my friends like to call me Jamin."

"They do not."

He groaned. "All right, so they don't. But sometimes it'd be cool if they did."

A smile crossed her face but she quickly squashed it. "I'll call you Hobbs, if i need to call you."

"I suppose you'll be calling me a lot when you fall head over heels in love with me. Yeah," he slouched more and slung his arm over the back of the chair, "the ladies really like me, so i hear. I can't blame them. What with my wit and stunning good looks."

Coming from anyone else, Kayla probably would have groaned and ignored the guy, but Hobbs' facial expressions and sarcastic tone of voice said he was just trying to make her laugh. It worked.

He straightened in the chair. "See, i know there was a smile in there somewhere. Though i think it's unfair that you're laughing at me. You don't think i'm good-looking? Or witty?"

She smiled again. She just couldn't help herself. "Well, you're... ah..."

"Just say it," he teased.

Kayla scrunched up her nose.

"No?" He checked out his reflection in the librarian's office windows. He smoothed out flowy hair with his hand.

The library door opened and the librarian, Mrs. Spitzer, hurried in, a coffee mug in one hand, a stack of books in the other. "Oh, sorry I'm late," she said, rushing past Kayla and into her office. She unloaded her things on her desk, grabbed a file folder, and came back out. "John," she said, looking over her glasses, "don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Right. I forgot."

"Mmhmm." To Kayla she said, "Give me two more minutes, dear, and i'll get you started. I have to make a phone call." she headed into her office.

"I guess that's my cue to go," Hobbs said.

Kayla stood. "I thought you were another library assistant." she tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "Aren't you going to get in trouble now for being late?"

"Nah. I'm a computer lab assistant this hour-this is my second semester doing it- and Mrs. Fairweather has the hots for me, no lie."

Kayla laughed since the computer lab teacher was older than her mother and smelled like cat food.

"And," Hobbs continued, "She's as blind as a bat."

"John," Mrs. Spitzer said, "off to class now before Mrs. Fairweather marks you absent."

"I'm going." He tipped his head toward Kayla. "Check ya later."

"Bye."

He opened the door to the computer lab and went inside.

Ex Tombstones

The doorbell rang and Kayla grinned. She opened the front door and the night air slipped in, chilling her skin.

"Hey, guys!" she said, seeing Jeanette and Star on the porch.

Star, as usual, hid in her fur-trimmed hood. Even standing on the enclosed porch out of the chilled wind, she was moving constantly as if trying to get her blood pumping faster.

If you looked at Jeanette standing next to Star, you'd never guess both girls were from the same climate. Jeanette wore a black leather jacket, a small Boston pin clasped to the front. Her hands were bare, two plastic bags hanging from her wrists.

"Warmth!" Star shouted, barreling past Kayla.

Kayla looked over Jeanette's shoulder and to the driveway. She only saw Star's black Chevrolet Nova. "Cheyenne come with you guys?"

"Cheyenne," Jeanette said, "Is a no-show." She walked in, and Kayla shut the door. They headed to the kitchen. Jeanette set her bags down on the kitchen island, shoving aside a bowl of fruit. "I called Cheyenne and she said she wasn't coming."

"She hasn't talked to Kevin yet," Star explained, pulling out of the bar stools at the island. "And he's been at my house half the night." She slid out of her coat and set it on a stool next to her. "I think Chey's hoping he'll call and they'll make up and everything will be okay."

Kayla sighed. "Well, hopefully they will make up, but they've never broken up before. This seems serious, don't it?"

"I tried telling her that," Jeanette said. "But she didn't want to hear it."

"You guys still want to light the fire, then?" Kayla couldn't keep the hint of disappointment out of her voice.

"Of course." Star pushed her blonde hair off her shoulder. "I want to lay this down as soon as i can."

"And i made Ex tombstones out of paper," Jeanette said. "I figured we could burn them." She pulled out three tombstones out of an envelope and laid them on the table. One said Kevin, one Dean and one David. They were made out of heavy black cardstock and the names were done in gothic lettering with silver glitter.

"These are so cute!" Star picked up Dean's and fingered his name. Some glitter came away, sprinkling onto the moss-colored countertop.

"They aren't supposed to be cute!" Jeanette said.

Star shrugged. "Well, they are."

"Leave it to Star," Kayla said, "to find something cute in something that's supposed to be slightly morbid."

"She would think a demon was cute if it had good hair," Jeanette said.

"Hello, I'm like, totally right here you guys!" Star waved her hands in the air.

"Come on, i figured we'd do this in the sunroom." Kayla led them to the back of the house. The walls and ceiling in the sunroom were made entirely of glass, so the sky was overhead, stars shining brightly in the clear night. There were candles lit all over, the flames reflecting off the glass walls. Kayla had moved all the wicker furniture back to make a place for a roasting pan in the corner of the room. She'd taken the big floral cushions off the wicker chairs and set them around the pot.

"For burning things," Kayla explained, nodding at the roasting pan.

"Of course." Star smiled.

Jeanette sat on one of the pillows. "Well, let's get started." She grabbed her two grocery bags and started unloading them. There was a whole gift box full of letters, a hair scrunchie, a t-shirt, an envelope full of photos, and a sock.

"What is all that stuff?" Star asked, grabbing the envelope of pictures.

"Everything that your brother gave me. Or, if it reminded me of him, i threw it in the bag."

Kayla poked the sock with her finger. "And this reminded you of him?"

Jeanette snorted a laugh.

"He left it at my house," Jeanette explained.

Kayla raised her eyebrows. "Oh, i see."

"What did you bring?" Jeanette asked Star.

Star grabbed her purse and dug inside. She pulled out a brochure to the high school's last art show and one picture of Dean playing the drums in the garage that she had obviously taken herself.

"I know," she said, looking at her pile, then Jeanette's. "I had a pathetic relationship with Dean."

Kayla shook her head. "I think the boyfriend was more pathetic than the relationship." She was pretty sure Star suffered from the I'm-not-good-enough syndrome, what Kayla's parents called self-criticism. But no matter how many times Kayla or Jeanette or Cheyenne told her how pretty she was, she always thought she could be thinner or have better skin.

Of course, Kayla's friends were constantly telling her how pretty she was, and she never seemed to have enough confidence to talk to guys. Maybe she was suffering from self-criticism, too.

Kayla took a box of matches in her hand. "I'll start the fire. I have the fire extinguisher close at hand, just in case something goes wrong."

"I'm so fuckin' ready for this," Jeanette said.

"Throw your letters in," Kayla said to Jeanette. "That'll get the fire going."

Jeanette dumped the letters out of the box and into the roasting pan. Kayla struck a match, the sulfur filling her nose. She threw it in and the flame burned a hole into one of the letters. Soon they all were lit up. "Now, throw in something else," she said. "We'll do the tombstones last."

Jeanette didn't hesitate. She chucked things in without looking and was done within a minute. Star threw in the brochure first but then dwelled on the picture of Dean.

"Come on, Star," Jeanette said.

Star gave Dean's picture one more look and threw it in.

♥♥♥

She let out a long sigh. Why hadn't Kevin called or something? Was he deliberately avoiding her? She double checked the messages on the answering machine. Still nothing. She called his phone and the machine picked up right away.

"You reached Kevin. Leave it after the beep." Beep.

"Kevin, call me."

♥♥♥

The first thing Cheyenne noticed when she walked in the front door of Kayla's house was the smell of something burning, then the scent of cinnamon and apples. She ran through the house, checking every room until she got to the sunroom. There were candles all over the place and a fire burning in a big blue roasting pan that her friends sat around.

Cheyenne froze over the threshold and took it all in. "Are you guys practicing witchcraft or something?"

They all looked at her and laughed.

"Yes, we're putting a hex on Kevin," Jeanette said.

"Don't do that!" Cheyenne shouted, hurrying into the room. Not that she believed in witchcraft or magic or anything. But with Jeanette, anything was possible.

A boy Jeanette really liked dumped her in middle school and, to retaliate, she bought a spell book from a used book store and cursed him. The next day at school, he fell in a mud puddle before lunch and sprained his ankle in gym class. If she were being honest, Cheyenne found it a little suspicious.

"She was kidding," Kayla said. "Jeanette."

"What?"

Jeanette was always goading Cheyenne. If anyone was a pain in her butt it was Jeanette, but she loved the girl.

Pulling her jacket off, Cheyenne sat on one of the pillows in the front of the roasting pan and peered inside. Pictures crinkled from the fire. There was a sock smoldering and a t-shirt burning in two places.

The burning smell was coming from the pot, and the apple and cinnamon must have been the red candles around the room.

"So what exactly are you doing?"

"Laying the Ex to rest." Star licked her glossed lips. "Did you come to lay Kevin to rest?"

She swallowed hard and pulled a breath in through her nose. Why hadn't he called her? He never went this long without returning her phone calls. She felt helpless and restless. She just wished she could fix it, like now.

Jeanette held up a tombstone-shaped piece of paper that had Kevin's name on it. "We wouldn't leave you of the fun. Here."

Cheyenne took the paper. "This is dumb." She stood up.

"Sit down," Kayla said. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to. But it's really helping Star and Jeanette."

"We weren't technically broken up yet, you know." but the more she talked about it the more she doubted her own words. They'd never fought like this before. Or uttered the "we're done" words. they weren't the on-again/off-again kind of couple.

And the longer the silence between them stretched, the more she began to believe they were, in fact, broken up. It seemed wrong, through, to burn a tombstone with his name on it. Doing it might jinx them and they'd never get back together even if there was a chance.

"Why don't you just keep it for now?" Kayla said. "If you get back together, throw it away. If... well, just keep it."

Cheyenne nodded and slid the paper in her purse. She'd throw it away when she got home, after she finally talked to Kevin. Because he had to call, didn't he?

Thank You

Lets give a big round of applause to Cheyenne and her blogger designing skills. She decorated this blog for me so i didn't have to. And lets thank Cheyenne for those beautiful photos of Michael J. Fox and Kevin Bacon she found!

Open-Mike Night Part 2

"I see it now," Hobb had said, spreading his arms out as if reading a headline. "The debut rock band Pinheads hits the Billboard charts with their groundbreaking album, Pacific Amphitheatre."

"Is that you talking," Michael had said, "or the headline?"

"The headline."

Cheyenne couldn't help but laugh now as she thought about it. She'd had fun tonight, although the only reason she was there was because she'd lied to her mother and told her she was at Kayla's house watching Halloween movies.

The guys went onstage and positioned themselves behind their instruments, Michael at the front of the stage positioning the microphone and the strap of the guitar around his shoulder, Hobb on the bass, and Dean behind the drum set. Cheyenne waited offstage just as they'd planned.

Michael started the song off, his guitar riffs pulling the audience in, fingers flicking the pick over the strings. Dean and Hobb came in next.

The applause was thunderous, claps mixing with hollers and whistles. Cheyenne couldn't help but smile as Michael grabbed her hand and winked at her. She closed the distance between them, sliding her hand up his jaw, pulling him over.

And then she kissed him.

Open-Mike Night

Footsteps fell around the corner of the next hallway. Cheyenne slowed. The heavy boots on the tile-dum, dum, dum-told Cheyenne exactly who it was. Not only that, but she could sense Kevin was nearby, like a deer might sense some moron trudging through the woods. Instinct told her to run, run far away!

She hurried, trying to get into the next hallway before Kevin saw her.

"Cheyenne! Wait a sec!"

Too late. Cheyenne cringed. Should she pretend she hadn't heard him? Keep going? Disappear inside the bathroom? Maybe she should run right out the door and never look back. Kevin was like a thorn in her side now. She was almost embarrassed that she'd gone out with him at all.

"Hey," he said, slipping in front of her before she had the chance to run. "I got you something." He pulled a rose from behind his back.

"What's this for?" she asked.

"It's an apology."

Was he serious? Had she somehow stumbled into the fourth dimension? Because this was not the Kevin she knew. The Kevin she knew didn't apologize for anything. He probably didn't even know the meaning of an apology.

"Kevin-" This was really not a good time for him to play her. She had been in a bad mood since her mother forbade her to go to the Van Halen concert with Kayla.

Listening to music and hanging out with her girl friends had been the one good thing she had done since Kevin broke up with her. She looked forward to every single afternoon where she and Kayla could walk across the street from the campus to Star's house.

It was this bad mood that propelled her to do what she did next.

She took the rose from Kevin's hand. "Thanks, baby," she cooed just like she used to when they were together. Giving the rose a customary sniff, she got in close to him.

Running a hand down his arm, she flicked her eyes up. His lids were at half-mast as he slipped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her into him. She snuggled up and tilted her head as if waiting for a kiss.

Kevin leaned over, and just as he went in for the lip-lock, Cheyenne turned her face away. "Sorry," she said, tapping the rose against his chest, "but you broke up with me, remember?" She arched a brow. "Then humiliated me in front of the whole school by kissing some random chick. Take your rose and shove it up your ass, Kevin, 'cause us breaking up was the best thing that ever happened to me."

With that, she swiveled on her heels and walked away.

♥♥♥

That was like a breath of fresh air, Cheyenne thought. She slouched in her chair as she waited for the final bell to ring and her US history class to begin. Or, really, for Michael to show up and take the seat next to her.

Less than a minute later, he walked in the door, his white sneakers scuffling across the floor. He smiled when they locked eyes and he made his way through the aisle of desks over to his.

"Hey, Chey," he said, turning sideways in his seat. "Are you still grounded?"

"Yeah," Cheyenne said, rolling her eyes, "but i'm working on my mother. I just can't promise anything." Dread filled her stomach even thinking about it. "Working" on her mother wasn't going to get her anywhere, most likely. Her mother was stubborn as a mule when it came to things she thought were "good" for her daughters.

"Well, open-mike night is this weekend." Michael said.

"I know." Cheyenne tapped her pencil against her book. "Maybe you should find someone else to go with..." It pained her to say the words aloud. She didn't want him to find another date. She wanted to go, and the thought of letting another chick take her spot made the dread turn into a hard lump of envy.

"No, way," Michael said, and Cheyenne settled with relief. "I want you."

A smile pulled her lips tight. She was probably glowing right about now. "But what if i can't get away?"

"We'll figure something out," he said, sounding sure of it.

Cheyenne, though, was having a hard time believing him.

♥♥♥

"If it makes you that happy, you have to do it," Star told Cheyenne later that day at lunch. "You'll always regret not trying."

Cheyenne popped the tab on her can of Coke. "But what am i going to do about my mother?"

"You can lie," Kayla said, ripping her turkey sandwich into tiny little bites.

"Like what?" Cheyenne asked. "Tell her i'm studying at the library?"

Star snorted. "I don't think that'll fly. You never have to study. You're too smart for that."

"Right," Kayla nodded. "You could tell her you're at my house. That we're having a sleep over or something."

"You can use me, too," Star nodded. "Just let me know before, in case your mom calls or something."

"Thanks, but even if i do get away to open-mike night, my mother's still going to find out eventually." Cheyenne popped a chip in her mouth and crunched it up.

♥♥♥

The place was packed, and people were still lining up outside waiting to pay the five-dollar cover charge. Whatever kind of advertising Tara and the rest of the student council had done, it'd worked. It was almost a miracle.

"Here you go," Kayla said, handing an older couple change from their twenty-dollar bill. "Let me just stamp your hand and you can head in."

She rocked the Scrappe stamp across a rainbow inkpad and pressed it onto the woman's hand, then the man's.

A thirty-something woman came forward in line holding a hand of a ten-year-old girl, her face practically glowing with excitement.

"You excited for the show?" Kayla asked, taking the ten-dollar bill from the mother.

The little girl nodded. "I came to see Michael."

Her mother smiled, shaking her head. "My daughter has a little bit of a crush."

"Mom!"

"Oh, sorry," Mom gave an apologetic shrug. "I just think it's cute."

The little girl let go of her mother's hand and crossed her arms over her chest. "I do not have a crush."

"I wouldn't blame you if you did," Kayla said, grabbing the girl's hand to give her a stamp. "I think Michael's a pretty great guy."

The girl looked away sheepishly. "Yeah. How do you know him?"

"He's a good friend of mine."

"My bother is friends with him," the girl explained. She puffed out her chest. "He comes over all the time."

"Cool."

The mom held out her hand for a stamp. "My son plays the bass guitar in that band Michael is in."

"Oh! Hobb?"

"Yeah, i guess that's his nickname." She smiled, then, "I just know him as John."

Kayla blushed, having forgotten that "Hobb" was a nickname he'd acquired in the seventh grade because of his hobbit-like feet. "Sorry," she said.

"No. I think it's cute." Apparently, Hobb's mother thought everything was cute. She turned to her daughter. "Ready?"

The girl nodded again, the embarrassment from seconds ago having disappeared to make way for the renewed excitement. "Do you know what time Michael will be on?"

"Eight thirty," Kayla said.