A Typical, Cliche, Love Story

One - Chick Flick

The sky was screaming in pain. As I lay there, I heard the sky bellowing in agony. I turned over in bed, trying to block the sounds from reaching my ears, but failing miserably. Another clap of thunder, another cry from the sky.

I always wondered why the rain pitter pattered on my windows, why there was abnormally loud noises from the sky whenever the clouds were dark with anger. I covered my ears, attempting to block the aching sounds from above. As I held the blankets closer to me, I silently counted the seconds before each flash of light silhouetted on my window shade along with the shout of help from the heavens. 1...2...3...4...5...boom. I fell into a dreamless sleep after hours of counting, mentally exhausted.

                                       ~*~

"Carter!" I turned around at the sound of my name being called. 

"Yeah, Madeline?" I asked, facing the girl in the blue striped shirt.

"Guess what?" she asked with a devilish smile.

"What?" I asked, scared of what was coming next.

"Chicken butt!" Madeline said, holding in a laugh.

"Wow. Carter, how did you not see that coming?" Amalda asked.

"I don't know, I'm tired, okay?" I defended myself as all three of us sat down at our usual spot in history class.

"You're always tired," Amalda stated.

"And that's why you love me," I replied with a grin. Amalda and Madeline were my two best friends, but I guess you could say that Amalda was closer to me than Madeline. There are many reasons why I'm not as close to Madeline as people expect us to be, but it's mainly because there really isn't much to talk about between the two of us. 

She likes, no not likes, she loves anime, especially that show Hetalia. She's pretty much insane, but in the fun kind of way. I suppose that you could say that out of all three of us, she was the most immature, which is rather ironic considering that she also is the oldest out of all three of us, but only by a couple months.

"Yeah, but come on, everybody know that 'chicken butt' is Madeline's signature response for when she asks you 'what'!" Amalda said.

"Hey! It's history, and last period on a Friday, give me a break!" I defended.

"Fine, but -" 

"Okay, class, tell me, where did we leave off?" Mr. McDowell asked, interrupting Amalda.

Throughout the rest of the class, we sat there listening to Mr. McDowell lecture us about the Ancient Egyptian pharaohs, Madeline doodling random anime crap while Amalda sat with her back straight up, doodling flowers and smiley faces. While they were concentrated on their hideous drawings, I sat there, my head laying down on the table, actually listening and paying attention to what Mr. McDowell had to say in his thick Bostonian accent.

"Okay guys, no homework for the weekend, and you are free to go, enjoy your weekend, and don't do anything stupid." Ah, the typical Mr. McDowell method of keeping us in tact: 'don't do anything stupid.'. Unfortunately, I don't think that he's figured out it doesn't work yet.

"So, Carter, watcha doing tonight?" Amalda asked as we stood outside, waiting in the express crowd for Amalda's mom to pick her up.

"Um, I'm doing something with my youth group. Why?" I answered, curious.

"Oh," Amalda said disappointed. "Well, tonight I don't have any dance classes like usual, so I was wondering if you could sleep over?"

"I'm sorry, I can't! At youth group, we're going to some other church and pulling an all-nighter. Plus, I don't think I'm in the mood for Curry," I exclaimed, Amalda laughing at my dismal racist joke.

"You're never in the mood for Curry!"

"Why would I? It's spicy and smells like crap on the streets of New York!" I chuckled.

Amalda laughed. "True, true."

"Ya, and who are you to talk? You don't like it either!"

"So?"

"So!" I stated. "You're the most non-Indian Indian I have ever met in my entire life! You hate spicy foods, you were born in India yet you don't have a hint of an Indian accent, you can't speak a bit of Indian or whatever language they speak. You're Hindu, but yet you don't even practice any of their rituals, and instead of taking super advanced math classes and wearing glasses, you dance your butt off practically everyday since you were like, two, and you wear contacts!"

"Yeah, but you're Chinese and aren't Chinese-like!" Amalda defended.

"I never said I was. And it's not like I'm all Chinese, I'm only half. Remember, it's only my mom's side that's all Chinese?"

"Oh, yeah," Amalda remembered.

"Well, I gotta go, my mom's waiting in the car," I said, motioning towards Queens Street, the street right next to our school.

"Okay, see ya Monday. Hey, tell me if there are any cute guys there,"

"Oh, please, like, nobody in my church are cute, and I highly doubt any guys in that other church are," I shouted back, as I made my way towards the field.

"You never know, the guy you thought was just a friend could be a hottie tonight," Amalda shouted.

"Yeah, maybe, if this was a chick flick!" I called back.

As I walked on the withering, brown leaves, pulling my sweatshirt closer to my cold body, I thought about  what would happen tonight. Wouldn't it be funny if I did end up falling for one of the guys at my church? But that would never happen. I've known all of them since we were tikes, and none of them are that attractive. 

I continued walking on the lonesome field, the dead leaves crunching underneath my purple converse. As I pulled my phone out of my bag, I texted one of my friends, having no idea what was in store for me tonight. And I'm not talking about what the event planners have in mind for tonight either.