old: The Intricacies of Love

"For all its imperfections, there must be something about it. There must be something about love... Something about it that makes the weak brave enough to fight, that makes the lost brave enough to look, that makes the broken brave enough to try again. What is it about love? What is it that can make a man lose all his sense? I don't--...Tell me, what is it?"
"... I don't know. But if you want... I could try to show you?"
"What? Don't be ridiculous. How could you possibly show me? ...Wait, you don't mean to tell me-- my dear girl, are you in love with someone!?"
"...Yes."
"I-- Well-- That is, what--... What sort of fellow is he?"
"Sort? He's the worst sort.""Th-- Then how could you possibly love him? Surely he isn't deserving of you if he's not worthy!"
"Oh, don't misunderstand me. He's very respectable; he cares for me deeply, almost as one would a sister. He's kind and sweet and too curious for his own good. He rushes into things without a second thought, he's always calling me 'annoying', and my God, does he infuriate me! But... for all his imperfections, I can't help myself. I can't help but love him."
"...He's a lucky fellow."
"Do you think so?"
"Y-- Yes, I do. You should... You should tell him. That you love him, you should inform him at once-- Why are you laughing!?"
"No, I'd rather not tell him yet. I don't think he's quite ready."
"...How so?"
"Well, you see, I've pretty much confessed right in front of him but he has yet to comprehend that my feelings for him run deeper than friendship. He's rather confused about love."
"...Blasted idiot, he is."
"Yes, quite so. He's absolutely clueless."
"...Who is he though? You've yet to tell me."
"Hmm... Perhaps you ought to figure it out for yourself."
"How!? I have no idea-- Stop laughing at me, will you? And don't shake your head like I'm some idiot!"
"But you are! You're an utterly and absolutely clueless idiot."
"...Like the man you love?"
"Exactly so."
"...Please tell me who he is-- Stop laughing!"
"I'm sure you'll work it out eventually.""You're so annoying."
"Why, thank you."
"And infuriating."
"As are you, my dear friend. As are you."


http://www.wittyprofiles.com/q/6754144

old: Wish Upon A Kiss

"Happy New Years!"
The sound of glass rims clinking together filled the room, before everyone burst into joyful laughter. I grinned over the top of my coke, taking in the merry atmosphere and loving the feeling of freedom that overcame me.
"Hey, Sammie!"
My eyes snap to Dan; he's making his way through the crowd of family and friends towards me.
He's got a huge grin on his face, which I can't help but return.
"Dan," I laugh. "I thought Dad said not to drink any of the wine."
He throws his head back and laughs, his curly brown hair tipping back to his neck.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," he smiles. "We can't all be perfect, can we?"
He then winks at me; rolling my eyes, I give him a playful punch on the shoulder.
"Obeying the law doesn't mean perfection, you felon," I tease him playfully.
He snorts. "Whatever, sis. Where's Heather?"
He throws a quick glance round our well lit living room, before returning his gaze to me. I shrugged, and gave a quick glance round the room.
"Maybe she went into the kitchen. I think I heard saying something abuot grabbing more paper cups." I chuckle. "She's such a house-wife."
It's his turn to roll his eyes, before turning to head towards the kitchen, already going after his girlfriend.
I smile at his retreating figure fondly.

Dan's only one year my elder, but he's always played the role of big bad brother so convincingly I sometimes forget he's only 15.
I take a seat near the wall, not really wanting to be in the middle of the room, where everyone's making jolly banter with each other, repeatedly checking their watches.
Counting the minutes down to midnight.
Sipping at my coke, I realise I've got the perfect view of the window from here. I grin; maybe I'll see the fireworks in the city centre!

"Sammie, darling, come here for a second, will you?" I hear Mum's voice call.
Quickly downing the rest of the coke, I try to weave through the crowd.
"Happy New Year, Sam," Aunt Sarah smiles at me as I pass her petite figure, before returning to her cheerful chat with Uncle Phil, her and mum's younger brother.
"You too," I reply with a smile, looking around for Mum. "Aunt Sarah, you haven't seen Mum, have you?"
"I think I saw her walk into the kitchen," Uncle Phil cuts in good-humouredly. "Probably stalking your brother and that poor girlfriend of his."
I burst into laughter, nodding. "Probably," I grin. "Thanks."
Giving Aunt Sarah a quick hug, I quickly go through the door beside me to the kitchen.

"Hey, Mum, were you calling me? I thought I hea- ?"
"Shh, Sammie, dear. Your brother's talking to Heather."
I roll my eyes, grabbing a stool and sitting down beside her at the ktichen table.
Mum's light brown hair, cut into a semi-stylish bob, is physically quivering with her excitement as she rests her chin on her hands, with her elbows on the cool granite table.
She's literally STARING at Dan, the poor guy.
I hide a smile, also bearing witness to his confession to Heather.
She's a beautiful girl. With her tan skin from that winter holiday in Greece a week ago, her sleek ebony hair tumbling down in soft waves to her lower back, her petite frame and deep blue eyes, the girl's got a lot going for her.

I then look over to Dan beside her. He's got his hands stuffed into the pockets of his light jeans, the sleeves of his button down shirt rolled up, with a loose Tee underneath.
He's stubbornly examining the floor like the answer to every question he has is etched into the tiles. I stifle a laugh when I realise he's blushing as Heather cluelessly rests her hand on his forearm.
"Mum," I hiss, "why are we staring at Dan? I mean, not that it isn't utterly invigorating." I snort.
"Because, he's with his first girlfriend, and it's adorable! Ah, where's my camera?"
I choke, before covering my mouth to hide my giggles.
"Here, borrow my phone," I grin, handing her the iPhone happily.
"Thanks, dear," she smiles, clicking on the camera app.

The loud click of the imaginary shutter going off alerts Dan of our presence. His eyes glance at us as he turns around, then turn to Heather, before looking back at us in a double take.
"Mum!" he cries. "Wha-? No, come on, that's not cool. BIoody heII, I can't have a moment alone, for God's sake!"
I can't hold it in anymore; I laugh so loud I'm sure the people in the living room can hear me loud and clear.
"Aw, sweetie," Mum cooes, jumping up from her chair to give Dan I great big hug.
"Awwww," I stick my tongue out at him.
I hear peals of laughter from Heather standing beside me.
"Cute!" she giggles at Dan, who's struggling like crazy from Mum's kiIIer grasp on him.
"Urgh, MUM!" He groans. "Gerr'off, Jesus Christ!"

"Your family's absolutely adorable," Heather smiles at me sweetly. I chuckle back.
"Aw, thanks, Heather. You should come round again, I'd be happy to show you pictures of Dan as a baby. Now THOSE are adorable," I tell her, raising my eyebrows wickedly.
"SAMMIE!" I hear Dan moan. "BIoody heII, you all are CRAZY!" He accentuated the last word by finally breaking free of Mum's chokehold embrace.
"My babies growing up," she sighs happily.
"Ah, they grow up so fast, don't they?" Heather giggles, playing along, to Dan's mortification.
"I wish, girl. Dan's still a total baby. He still can't sleep without the hall light on, poor guy," I wink at her, chuckling.
Behind me, I hear laughing, and I turn around to see Dad, Aunt Sarah and my two little cousins, Amy and Nigel.

"Really, Dan?" Amy, a ten year old devil, giggles. "Jeez, even I don't do THAT."
Dan's resisting the urge to bang his head on the cupboard beside him, I can tell. His face is bright read, brown eyes wide open in humiliated indignation.
"Aw, Dan!" Heather squeals. "Do you really?"
She's got her eyebrows raised, as if she's impressed. I'm liking her more by the minute.
"Heather, don't listen to them, they're all cra-"
"Crazy?" I interject. "N'aaww, we just love you, that's all, Danny-poo." I wipe a pretend tear away.
"I think he's had enough," Mum chuckles, and Dad's nodding along, grinning at his son.

"You think!?" he cries, his arms making motions around his head. "You're all- I mean, seriou- Just..- Ahh! I mean, Jesus. I'm going out to see the fireworks. Anything to get away from you guys!"
He makes for the kitchen door, pushing Heather in front of him. "Let's go, Heather."
She giggles. "It was lovely meeting you all! Especially you, Sam," she smiles at me over Dan's shoulder. He's trying his best to push her through the doorway, into the hallway. "We should totally meet u-"
"No!" Dan shouts. "Heather, come on!"
She bursts into laughter, as do I. "Bye, Heather," I grin, waving slightly.
"Bye bye, Danny-poo!" I coo to him, blowing him a kiss.
"Crazy blighters, bIoody crazy..." I hear him mumbling before they're out the front door.

"Awww.." Mum says thoughtfully. "She's very sweet. Dan's made a good choice."
"Couldn't really expect anyone else, after he's been pining after her for half a frickin' year," I snort amusedly.
Dad reaches for the plastic cups, and backs out the room. "I was just grabbing some more of these. Hey, Liz," he continues to Mum. "Me and Phil were talking, I think we have some fireworks in the garage from Guy Fox Night, d'you want us to set them up in the garden?"
I smile, and say, "Yeah, that'd be awesome!"

“That's a brilliant idea, Jeff," Aunt Sarah grins, and Mum nods. "I'll help you get them out, come on."
I follow them out into the living room, where everyone's still standing around and chatting. I roll my eyes.
"Grown ups. Boring much?"
Just then, I feel a vibrating in the back pocket of my jeans. I dig around for my phone, and press answer without checking the number.
"Hello?"
"Sammie! Hey, good, you answered, finally! Why didn't you answer my previous calls?"
My face relaxes into a fond smile. "Hey, Jess. Sorry, Mum had my phone. We were making Dan's life heII."
"Wha-?" I hear her start, before trailing off. "You know what? I don't even want to know. Hey, what's all that noise?"

With a laugh, I say, "Sorry, I'm at home, and the whole family's here. They're just setting up fireworks in the backyard, do you wanna come over?"
Jessica never misses an opportunity to be out and about.
"Nah, I'll pass. I'm actually in the centre of all fireworks, babe."
I blanch, standing up and walking out of the loud living room into the quieter hall. "You're kidding me."
"Nope," she says, popping the 'p'.

"You're in the city centre!?" I cry, a grin growing on my face. "Seriously? You got space?"
"My cousins were camping ¬out here to get a good view of the show, I'm with them. You coming or not?"
"HeII, yeah!" I crow, pumping the air with my fist. "That's awesome! Here, I'll just quickly ask the 'rents, call you back in a few."
"Time's a tickin', babe," she trills, before hanging up.
I take a moment to lean against the wall behind me, close my eyes and just smile. I seriously love that girl; I mean, she found space in London's city centre on New Years night.
THIS was why Jessica Darcy is my best friend. Because the girl's a fricking miracle.
My eyes snap open, and I rush to the garage.

I head out the back door of our kitchen into the garden, and walk along the stone pathway to the sid entrance for the garage. All along the back of our house are couples sucking face.
"Eurgh," I moan quietly. I mean, get a room in your own house, or something. I know I'm not leaning against there for a lil' while from now.
Tuning out the, uh, sound effects the lovebirds are making, I glance up while walking to see a cloudless night.
Now THAT'S unusual for London.
I grin happily; it's absolutely beautiful.

Like little fireflies stuck on that blue-ish black thing.
I chuckle to myself at the Lion King quote, before jogging the few steps to the garage door.
"Oh my God, it's roasting in here!" I groan, closing the door behind me. Dad turns around and smiles at me, while all I see of Mum is her jean-clad ass sticking up between countless card-board boxes.
"Hey, sweetie," she greets, still searching like crazy for the fireworks.
"You found them?" I ask Dad.

He shakes his head. "No, but they've got to be around here some place."
With that, he too turns and disturbs the resting place of the months of dust which litters our garage.
"Hey, Mum?" I say to her, trying to think of the perfect way to ask her about the city centre.
"Hmm?" she acknowledges, before coughing like crazy. "Jesus, it's dusty in here. Jeff, we really have to get this cleaned..."
He nods, and replies over his shoulder. "I think so, Liz. Did you keep the number of that cleaner you hired a few weeks ago?"

Rolling my eyes at them, I clear my throat loudly. "Mum!"
"Hmm," she nods, straightening up and brushing down her jeans, glancing around. "They've gotta be 'round here somewhe-."
"Right! Well, I'm off, call if you need anything, bye!" I let out quickly in one breath, backing for the door quickly.
Her eyes instantly snap to mine. Right, so THAT'S what it takes to get her attention.
"Where?"
"Just out, Mum. You know, the fireworks and all that," I sigh impatiently, checking my watch.
"Honey, we have fireworks here," she said, frowning. "No need to go out and waste time."
"Mum."
"What?" she said innocently, "it's true!"

"Jessica got some space in central London."
"So it'll be crowded and loud, I don't see that as an upside."
"And I REALLY wanna go," I reasoned.
She rolled her eyes, annoyed.
"Mum, I can't see why you're making such a big deal out of it," I moaned. "Please? It'll be fun, I won't be out late, I have my phone, you know everyone I'll be with. Please."
I could see her reasoning with Dad with her eyes, who had turned round to listen to the conversation.
"Well..." she wavered.
"I'll even take the camera, get some good photos for Gran," I added on. Mum never misses an opportunity to criticise our relationship with her mother.
"Alright, fine, fine!" she finally let on.
I let out a woop. Yes! Grinning, I sped for the door.
"Be home by nine!"
"Yeah, yeah," I called back over my shoulder.
2012, here I come.

You know, a girl never appreciates the art of multi-tasking until she's tried grabbing her purse, her mobile phone and a packet of gum falling from her back jeans pocket while running in the dark at night.
In unlaced converse hi-tops.
"Sht," I cursed under my breath, my feet tumbling over each other as I leapt for the gum.
Of all the things to dive for, I thought, irritated.
The street-lights cast a yellow shadow across the pavement, but I was still having trouble finding my purse and phone, having successfully found the oh-so-important gum.

t took about two seconds for me to trip over again; at least it was over my purse.
"Sht," I drew out, freaking out. Where the hell is my phone!?
The ringing helped, though.
The light coming from the screen gave an eerie glow to my hands as I reached for it; I could FEEL the scratches being etched onto my poor iPhone as it vibrated like heII on the rocky road.
Yum.
I snorted slightly, laughing at my inner joker as I caught sight of Jessica's face lighting up the screen.

“Hey, J-”

“You! Where are you!? You’re gonna miss it!” Her voice, electronic and muffled, shouted at me from the speaker, panicked. “Get your ass over here, will you?”

I started walking again, holding the phone to my ear with my right hand while trying to stuff my purse back into my pocket as I did so. “I’m just” - I paused as I bent down to grab the fallen gum – “coming.”

“That’s what your Mum said.”

“...”

I heard her snort at her own joke. “Sorry.”

“Really? I mean, seriously?” I chuckled. “Girls can’t make Mum jokes, you do get that, right?”

“Fine. That’s what your Dad said. Happy now?”

I rolled my eyes. Who cares if she couldn’t see me do it?

“I’m just gonna drop this subject before you make it any awkwarder.”

“Because awkwarder’s a word,” she scoffed.

I’d reached the busier city centre; there were a few people on the street now, and I could see from inside the windows that lit up from the warm lights inside that there were huge huddles of families, friends and whatever else. Even a few pubs seemed to be overflowing.

“Yes. Yes, it is,” I laughed into the receiver. “Hey, where abouts in the centre are you exactly?”

"Rather central."

"And here I was worried you were gonna be vague or something."
She giggled. "Near the parks. Come quick, yeah? It's almost eleven and I know you know that everyone knows not to-"
"Wait, what? Where? I'm confused."
"Just hurry, 'kay? Byeeeee!" her tin voice sqealed at me happily.
"What!?" I yelped. "No, don't you dare hang up on me. Where are you?"
"Sorry, it's just- I mean- There's a pretzel stand, and a hot guy's running it!" she whined needily; I could visualize the effortless pout that would no doubt be on her face right now.
"And a bunch of beepers are crowding him..."
"That's enough reason to leave me floundering?"
"I thought only turtles did that."
"Jess!"
She giggled again. "Sorry, sorry. Um, it's like, you know Ellie's?"
"Yeaaah..." I seethed quietly.
"Yeah, well, near the corner shop there, but you don't walk along the street. Instead, follow the walls, yeah? I mean, like, the pavement. The one leading off. 'Kay, well, love you, see you, hurry, 'kay, bye honey!"
"JESSI-"
The dial tone cut me off politely.

Count to ten, Sammie. Count to ten, and breathe.
I kept my eyes shut, resisting the urge to text some serious abuse at the btch I called my best friend.
Breathe.
I opened my eyes, cleared my throat and strode along the dark street confidently.
Semi-confidently.
I knew where I was, of course. Ellie's corner shop was just a few streets away, but really, what would I do when I reached there?
Follow some wall-y pavements, according to her.
Stupid Jess.
Unwrapping the headphones from my iPhone, I made up my mind to just go to Ellie's. At worst, I could just walk in and ask the cashier, right?

old: What He Said

-Prologue-

Albert Einstein, one of the most famous people in the world - part and present - once said that there are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.
Like a philosophical scientist.
My father told me that. He was pretty big on the whole philosophy thing; spent pretty much his whole life procrastinating and contemplating.
Said it livened the soul, or something.
I can almost remember him, actually - almost. How he used to smile every morning over his latest novel; or even how he always found spare change to give to people on the street. He said they needed it more than we did, which was totally true, I guess.
Yeah, my dad was a decent man. A good man.
Shame it never did him much good. He went to prison anyway.

***

-Chapter One; Ice-

She usually sat alone in the more subdued corners of the cafeteria, her dark hair shielding her face from prying eyes.
She didn't eat much; actually, I'm having trouble recalling a time when I've ever seen her eat. At least, at lunchtime.
Maybe she was just not hungry. I don't know.
Like I said, she was always alone. The funny thing was that she didn't seem to mind it; she never looked up, never gave a glance to the rest of us.
I thought she was different; in a weird way.
"Yo, man."
I glanced up to see a short black kid with dreadlocks. My lips formed a smile. "Hey, Paul."
"What you starin' at?" he asked curiously, his eyes trained on my tray of food. I pushed it over to him without a fight, not hungry.
"Nothing," I mumbled.

"Cool sht," Paul mumbled around a mouthful of chips, and I could feel my nose wrinkle in disgust.
He caught sight of the expression; "Shut up, Alistair."
"I didn't say anything."
He rolled his eyes. "I'll eat how I want to eat."
"Try put the food IN your mouth though, yeah?"
"Shu'up!"
"Dude, say it, don't spray it."

He proceeded to give me an affectionate middle finger. "What's got you in PMSing so bad anyway?"
My eyes narrowed. "You little sh-"
"Aren't you rainbows and sunshine today? Look, if you're gonna be a btch, I'm just gonna go sit 'side someone else."
I snorted. "Right, fine. See you, Paul."
We stared at each other for a moment, before both our faces widened to a smile.
"What's up with you anyway?" he pushed further; weird as he can be, Paul's a good guy, and I guess you could say I'm lucky to call him my best friend.
'Lucky'.

"Nothing," I mumbled, tapping the table half-heartedly.
He stared at me with an eyebrow raised. "Y'sure you don't wanna talk about it?"
My gaze snapped to his. "Do I look like I want a heart-to-heart?"
"You always do. Little camp boy."
"Lighting a campfire right now," I replied sardonically. "I'm not camp. Jacey, rememb-"
He cut me off with a loud groan. "How could I forget the face-scker!?"
I winked. "That's not all she can do."

A voice cleared behind me. "What exactly can I do, Alistair? Hmm?"
My eyes widened as Paul hurried to hide the huge smirk on his face behind his hand.
"Uhhh..." I replied like the genius I am, turning to see my girlfriend standing behind me, one hand holding a can of coke and the other on her hip expectantly.
Her plucked eyebrows rose.
"Hi, sweetheart."
I gave her a sweet smile, trying to soften her. "Hey, babe... I was just saying how you can totally light up my day with your presence?"
Paul fake-gagged.

"Aww," she cooed sarcastically. "Aren't you sweet?"
Her tan face then smoothed into an amiable smile. "I'm just kidding, Leelee. Here, budge, let me sit."
Paul tried to hide his laugh. "Leelee," he coughed, winking at me.
"Fck you."
"Jaceypoo'd get jealous."
She rolled her dark eyes at our banter. "You both are idiots."
"Then leave?" Paul asked hopefully. I'd zoned out by this time; this sort of stuff isn't new or anything. I have to listen to it every day.
Every single lunchtime.
Without fail.
And don't ask me why they hate eachother; I don't have a goddamn clue. I mean, I can see why Paul doesn't get along with Jacey. He thinks she's a btch, which is fair enough considering she really is, to him.
She hates him because... I don't know, his dreadlocks? Dunno.
Nevertheless, I know they don't get along. It's not ideal.

 

old: The Wonders of the Platypus

Everytime someone asks me what my favourite school subject is, I lie and tell them it's English.
I mean, there are a lot of good reasons to love English, in my opinion. It's an epic language, for one thing. The teacher - Mr. Goldmint - is a decent teacher, despite his oversized white beard and tendency to roll his R's.
No, my favourite subject isn't English.
The only reason I lie is that my reasons for loving my favourite subject aren't entirely acceptable. I mean, it's kind of embarrassing, really.
It's hardly like I can say, "Oh, yeah. I look forward to Biology all the time, just because she's in it."
No, that'd never work.
She's not good enough a reason, to them.
To me, though? Well, she's perfect.

***

First thought when I walked through the classroom door to find my class for the next year?
Come on, I'm sure someone wants to hear it.
Here it is; Am I on a fcking reality show?
"Nick, my man!"
My gaze slides across the room to catch sigh of Jimmy Piner, a fellow soccer player and good friend as of right now.
"Hey! Jimmy, what's up, man?" I plaster a grin on my face and stride through the maze of desks to him; unsurprisingly, he and his group of mates have chosen a bunch of desks near the back of the room.
I sigh mentally. Great. Another year of trying to hear the teacher over a bunch of jocks getting high off themselves - what could be more enjoyable?

"I didn't have a clue you were gonna be in this class," Jimmy practically shouts at me over-excitedly.
"Yeah, well," I shrug half-heartedly. "Lucky me."
I don't expect Jimmy to catch the sarcastic tone; he's one of the many at our school who major in the athletic part of the school curriculum

"That's great man, really. It's great. We'll have one mother-fcker of a time, just you wait," he crows. Loudly.
What the hell is a mother-fcker of a time?
"Uh, sorry though, man," he booms in my ear - this guy really needs to learn to speak at normal volume; it's hardly like we're on the soccer pitch right now.
"What?" I say to him calmly, trying not so smile at his puzzled expression.
"Didn't save you a seat," he laughs - again, loudly.

Let's just assume Jimmy's loud the majority of the time.
"That's cool, Piner. There's a bunch of spare seats." I'm kinda relieved that he hasn't saved me a seat; no reputation-demanded obligation to sit beside him and have an eardrum blown out daily.
"Nah, here, I'll grab you a seat," he grins at me, flicking some of the sandy-brown hair from his fringe out of his eye.
"No, it's coo-"
I cut off mid-sentance in surprise as Jimmy walks over to a kid a few seats away and starts shouting "twerp" in his face.
The fck?

"Nick, why the hell is Jimmy screwing that kid over? He's just about shat himself."
To my left stands Lawrence; he's a pretty decent guy, even though we don't talk much. I grin slightly, and he returns the smile questioningly.
"Dunno. Wants to get me a chair or something?" I snort, raising an eyebrow.
Lawrence chuckles. "Well, isn't that a shame. Poor kid Jimmy's chosen."
"Yeah," I mumble, nodding. "What's 'twerp' mean?"
Lawrence laughs, rolling his eyes. "Shu'up."

Lawrence Solenar. I think he's a musical genius or something - I can remember him getting some prize for his piano skills a couple years ago.
He keeps his dark hair cropped close to his scalp, but it suits him; his glasses, a large-rimmed affair, give him the look of geek-and-proud. He's got a cap on loose, and his green checked shirt's unbuttoned over a white tee.
I don't talk to him much, but I think, given that we'll be in the same class for a while, we'll start talking more. I mean, I know he's a cool guy, so.
Looking around, I try to assess the rest of the class - and if it's a decent one - while trying to block Jimmy's insistent nagging on at the 'twerp'.

Standing near the central system of desks are Daphne and her girls; they're all pretty much pasted in make-up, drenched in enough perfume to choke someone and giggling in high voices. It's kinda a shame, considering that they think they're crazy hot.
Uh, no.
Sorry.
I can be a bastrd sometimes. Oops.
Anyway, there are some other people dotted around the room. Just random kids, mostly. No-one I'm close friends with.
I sigh.