My Heart Skips a Beat (completed)

Chapter 1: Shock of His Life

A/N: so yeah, this is the My Heart Skips a Beat fanfiction! i will have an official song to capture the mood for almost every chapter i post, and i do not have one for this chapter. the songs don't have to be listened to but sometimes they can help establish a deeper understanding of the story. (if you have any song recommendations for this chapter feel free to comment!) please vote and comment for feedback! (5 votes and comments = new chapter). carry on and start reading! hope you enjoy!

"Okay, Claire, your turn!" Jonathan chirped excitedly. I heard his dog game piece clink with the game board three times.

"I'm kinda busy right now, could you roll for me?" I asked, trying not to cringe as I hung up my dress from the Snow Ball the year before at Foxfield Academy, my all-girls school. I was always so happy and at peace with myself at Foxfield. Dances at school were a lot of fun; usually, our brother school, Vernon Academy, helped us out with our dances. Mrs. DeBruhl and Mr. Kennedy, the main principals of our schools, thought of some pretty cheesy themes for our dances and various get-togethers between Foxfield and Vernon. Regardless of the fact, they were always fun. It was always nice to see some males in high school around. Vernon Academy was the only high school within a hundred miles, and it was also the only source of males within one hundred miles. There was a strict rule between Vernon and Foxfield: no trespassing. We were never allowed to go on the other campus (of course, if one has permission it is different), it was severely punished if one was to be caught trespassing. Everyone did it, though. Parties were thrown at the secret hideouts on the campuses of Vernon and Foxfield. At Vernon, the hideout was the top floor of Sky Hall. Sky Hall got its name because of the roof. You could climb out onto the roof and lay on the top of the building, overlooking the entire Vernon campus and the small forest that separated Vernon from Foxfield. At my school, the hideout was on the top of Bromwich Hall. It wasn't as fun and as extravagant as the Vernon hideout, so we spent most of our time at Sky Hall. The Bromwich Hall hideout just had a few sofas and a couple of old record players to use if anyone actually brought their records to boarding school. My old friend Grace was a record collector. I always gave her my favorite record on her birthday because she could open it and enjoy it again and again. Those were always the best birthday gifts; the ones that made you smile over and over.

I only brought two records to school each year: the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. Life at Vernon and Foxfield was definitely hard because of all the strict rules, but us students found little ways to make our lives fun there, despite our nerve-wracking limitations. I turned around and looked at Jonathan.

"Do I really have to go for you?" he asked. Jonathan was a strong believer in playing board games correctly, and part of that was not playing other player's turns for them.

I laughed. "Yes. And for the record, you play Monopoly like a five year old."

"I am not a five year old!" he said in a high, squeaky voice, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

I giggled at the sight of him. "You're right, Jonathan, but when it comes to your favorite childhood board game, you transform into the kindergarten boy that Mom and Dad always say they miss. Even after six years, they're still in denial that we're upperclassmen in highs school."

He picked the dice up off of my white carpet and rolled them around in his hands. "No one around here will play Monopoly with me after you leave for Foxfield, Claire. I gotta get all of my Monopoly in before then. You're gone 'til Christmas, right? That's four months. Four months with no Monopoly? You kidding me?" he said, dead serious. He flicked the dice out of his hands and they rolled on the carpet, one landing right beside my toe.

"What's that one say?" he asked.

I picked the dice up. "Five."

"I got one. You move six, from the Boardwalk, so that means you land on," Jonathan began, moving my car across the board. "income tax."