My Life as a Teenage Rebel

The Story of Evilyn Cross

Evilyn Cross

ASIDE The Story of Evilyn Cross

I was a freshman. Fourteen-years-old at the time. Still had red hair. Parents were still married (we all knew they were getting a divorce soon; they weren't compatible, those two; dunno why they even got married in the first place.) Steph and Jonas were still only dating (we all knew he was going to put a ring on it though.)

Oh, yeah; one other thing: I went to freaking Catholic school (where I was tortured from seven in the morning till three in the afternoon.)

They called me a musical prodigy. I could play pretty much every instrument you can bring to mind by the age of nine. "If only she was more sophisticated, like the rest of her family." people would say. Screw them. They had no freaking idea what shit went down in my house morning to night. They called my sister a beautiful, delicate, dancing flower? Ha! She was a flirty red-head that knew a few (thousand) steps and hardly ever spoke her mind. They called my brother a charming, successful young man? HA! More like an immature idiot who wasn't allowed to tell people his age because they might figure out how old my ex-supermodel mom was! And Hell, don't even get me started on my parents!

With a sigh, I walked into the public library, unfortunately in need of Romeo and Juliet for school. I strode up to the librarian behind the desk and asked, "Where's the Shakespeare section?" with an exasperated tone.

The male librarian looked up at me, and his eyes fell on my uniform (which I'd altered into a black punk rock kinda style, but not enough for them to bust me for.) "St. Therese's school for girls?"

"Yeah, yeah, now do you have a Shakespeare section or not?" I asked. He didn't answer, and after a while I realized that he was still staring at me, mouth slightly open. "Hey, Mr. Pedophile," I snapped, "I'm fourteen ya pervert, go gawk at someone your own age!" And then I turned before he got the chance to speak. Geez, I'll find the stupid thing myself!

After wandering fruitlessly through the maze of a library for a few minutes, I thought I finally found the isle I was looking for. I stopped; in that isle stood a very attractive looking guy that had to be around my age, looking down at a small piece of paper in his hand.

Yeah, sure I already had a boyfriend. Ten. That was what he called himself. Why? Heck if I know.

The day I first saw him me and the rest of Raven's 5 were at a "Battle of the Bands" sort of event. After we performed our song and merged into the crowd, Ten and his band walked on stage, plugged in their instruments, and started to play "Crazy Train" by Ozzy Osborne. Something about Ten...maybe it was the way he sang or the way he played...but it caught my attention. Right away I could see that there was something...something different about him; something mysterious.

At one point in the performance he looked directly at me, and that was it for me. I couldn't help but want to solve that mystery.

So he asked me out, yada yada ya. A few months later, he started asking me to write a song for him. A song for the two of us. And at first I was flattered and all, like: Oh! My boyfriend wants to do a song with me! How romantic! But I seriously told him that my songs were for me and the rest of Raven's 5. I wanted to concentrate on the band.

For some reason, he didn't get that. And as often as I told him that maybe one day I would write a song for him, he just kept pestering me about it. He was seriously getting on my nerves at this point.

I stared at the boy I could possibly dump my insistent boyfriend for, suddenly wondering if he would be a good kisser. And then he looked up, and I realized: