The Love Club

tennis court

THIS FIRST CHAPTER IS SHIT I KNOW I'M SO SORRY I WROTE IT A FEW YEARS AGO; SEE AUTHOR'S NOTE FOR EXPLANATION. HANG IN THERE!!! ILY!

"baby be the class clown / I'll be the beauty queen in tears / it's a new art form showing people how little we care"

Luke:

I wake up early on the first day of school, just so I can see her. I jump up and throw on a band T-shirt and a blue jacket thing with a pair of black jeans, and hurry to brush my teeth and hair. I take a quick glance out the window, which turns into a longing stare. She's just getting out of bed, and I take in everything about her. Her flowing brunette hair in a messy ponytail from sleeping, her soft tan skin glowing, only concealed by her lace bra and sweatpants. Even in sweatpants, you can see her breathtaking curves, rolling from her chest to her hips to her butt to her thighs. Everyone in school wants to love her or be her. Ophelia Rose Castellanos.

Ophelia and I were friends when we were little since we lived next door to each other. Our parents were really close, and still are to this day, which means I always get to see her at holiday parties, when (up until this year) she'd usually be making out with her jock boyfriend in the dark. She and I used to have a lot of adventures, where she was the hero and I was the sidekick. She always makes herself important, I suppose. I remember one adventure in particular.

Picture 8-year-old Luke and Ophelia, riding our bikes through the hot suburbs of Sydney, Australia. Ophelia would always be looking for something fun. Whether it be a mystery or a new secret hang out spot, she was always looking. One day, we decided to go to the pier to play games and go on rides. On the way there, we took a turn into a long alleyway, since she claimed it was a shortcut. A few minutes into the "shortcut", she stopped abruptly and gasped.
"What?!" I exclaimed, annoyed by her cutting me off.

"Look!" Ophelia pointed at a box where a small, thin dog lay quietly. He didn't look dead, for when Ophelia jumped off her bike and walked over to start petting him, he wagged his tail and whined.

"He's just a little puppy! Why would anyone leave him out here?" She asked.

"I don't know, Lia, but we should go if we want to get there early. There will be long lines if we wait and go later." I complained.

You could tell Ophelia ignored everything I said because she sat down and opened her backpack, taking out plastic bags full of snacks for later. "Hey puppy, are you hungry?" She cooed, and the dog whined again, desperate for something to eat. She opened the bag of crackers and starting hand-feeding them to the dog, who would scarf them down in a matter of seconds. Every time he did this, Ophelia would giggle softly, and then reach down into her bag and get more. A few minutes went by and I was still watching her as she ran out of crackers, and reached into her bag of mini ham sandwiches and fed them to the dog, who ravenously ate like he hadn't in weeks, which he probably hadn't.

"Luke, come try this, it's fun!" She giggled and I sat down beside her smiling, watching her laugh as the puppy licked her face and begged for more. I took a sandwich and fed it to the dog, and laughed alongside her.

This went on for a while, us feeding the dog and watching it hop around happily. Eventually, we ran out of food and Ophelia sat and hugged the skinny little mutt, and I sighed.
"I feel bad we can't take him home," I said sadly.

"Well, of course, we're taking him home." She looked at me straight in the eyes and spoke as if it was the most obvious thing.