I'm back :)
Hey everyone, for those of you who don't know me and are unfamiliar with my writing my name is Johnna!
And this is my, what? FOURTH FANFICTION? =D I have two other stories called
Bless The Broken Road
and my very first FF was a TDI roleplay :)
If you feel like it, check those out some other time!
I'm so excited to be writing again! i've been really careful with this one and drafting it out in my notebooks and rereading it over and over on my laptop! I hope you all really like it! It's a Bridgette & Geoff one, which I don't think are so common! I wanted to try something a little different, and I hope you all like this fanfic and that it is as successful as my other ones :) Before you start reading I wanted to put a warning and say that this first chapter isn't THAT great and picks up when she's going to school(spoiler? idek..) toward the end. The main focus is Bridgette, and maybe in the future I'll switch to Geoff's POV but for now it's Bridgette's! I promise the story gets better :)
Leave me feedback and comments on the end! Tell me what YOU want to see in the story and maybe I can incorporate it!
I keep telling myself things could be worse. I keep telling myself, mom and dad are both really happy, and that's what matters most. But I keep getting sad, and these positive thinking techniques are definitely not working.
Here's the deal. My mom has been a stay at home mom for about thirteen years. When I turned thirteen my mom decided to go back to work, she started as a banker at our local bank. Her boss, Mr. Deluise loved her and decided to promote her. Again…again, and again. Now with her most recent promotion, she would get paid triple her usual and work for a new branch location. It sounds great, right? Lots of money, a bigger bank to work at, and happiness. It all comes with a catch. The new location, like I just mentioned.
We were given three months notice. That means only three months to find a new home, located in Sacramento. Three months to try to enjoy my summer vacation, and not think about the move that was creeping up on me. Three months to pack up our things and leave Malibu. But, only one day to say goodbye to my beautiful beach.
"Oh look honey! I think our house is the upcoming one of the left!" Mom squealed excitedly to my dad, who had one hand on the steering wheel, the other twisting the radio dial, looking for his beloved Oldies station.
Stuck in my parents blue 2002 station wagon has been less than exciting these past six hours. Six hours with my parents in the car. Can you imagine that? Just imagine being me, a sixteen year old girl stuck with her cheerful parents, while being forced to move away from everything she loved. Sucks, doesn't it?
Don't get me wrong, just because I'm sixteen does not mean I'm one of those girls who always whines about being misunderstood. I'm one of the least complex people you will ever meet. Just be kind to nature and hand me a surf board and we would get along great.
My mom has always been my best friend, she is the one person I have always had everything in common with. We are both vegetarians, we love mother nature and always try our best to respect the planet. Reduce, reuse, recycle. Live by it.
My mom even taught me how to surf. Surfing is not just a hobby with me. For me, surfing is a life style. A passion. To me when I get out into my beautiful, blue, ocean, it feels like it is all mine. It feels like if I can ride one wave, all of my problems can be solved easily.
In Malibu my house was on the beach. Beautiful white sand, the most gorgeous ocean you will ever lay your eyes on, and tall palm trees everywhere. If you could design my perfect heaven, it would totally be in Malibu.
But, my mom somehow managed to ruin that for me. And now we aren't really speaking. I give one word answers, ignore her when I can. Even riding the waves couldn't help me think this one through. I can't not be mad at her. I've tried, but I can't.
They say time heals all wounds. Well, if that's true, then three months of time obviously is not enough for me. I'm never one to hold grudges. But, when it comes to me and my Malibu, it's personal.
Dad pulled up to the house on the left. Too bad this house couldn't be on the beach. Oh right, we're not in Malibu. We're in Sacramento, the city. I wrinkled my nose in annoyance at the new house as dad pulled up into the driveway.
The driveway was a long and smooth black pavement. It led us straight up to the garage door. Dad pulled the key out of the engine, and the car turned off. The noise from our car settled and my parents eagerly got out of the car.
I slowly opened the car door and unlocked my seat belt. I slid out of the car, not bothering to look at the house just yet, and stretched my legs. I leaned on the car, stretching my legs out, it felt good to stretch. We only stopped twice within the six hours.
Dad popped the trunk, as mom hurriedly rushed inside excitedly with the single silver house key. I turned with my eyes shut, facing the house. When I open my eyes I will see a beautiful home. It may not be my home, but it's my temporary home. For the next two years. As soon as I graduate when I turn eighteen, I'm going back to Malibu. That's a promise.
I snapped my eyes open and looked at the house. It was just a house. Nothing totally special about it. But there was a big front yard, and from what I can tell; a big back yard too. The grass was green, a beautiful shade of green. And the path walk up to the house was cobblestone. Swanky. I thought sarcastically.
It was a cute house, I guess I can say. It was a brick house, but the bricks weren't red or brown they were a nice crème color, something I've only seen in movies or TV shows. There were two windows beside the painted white door. Each window was long and not too wide.
My eyes scaled up the house, and there clearly was an upper story, as there were more windows at the top. They were small square windows, for bedrooms I'm sure. Other than that there was nothing else to the house just yet.
"C'mon Bridge, bring your bags inside." Dad says to me as he walks past me, he held a large black duffle bag which was filled with his cell phone charger, laptop and other electronics that he and my mother share. With his other hand, he rolled a black suitcase behind him.
My parents and I each brought two bags for the car, while the rest of our items were coming in the movers van. My mom thought it would be a fun idea to sell everything and buy new stuff. I panicked when she said that. No way was I ready to get rid of my stuff. Even if it's stuff like the recliner or the couch…it's still mine, ya know?
Wordlessly I turn back to the car, and pull out my light blue duffle bag and my purple suit case from the trunk and bring those inside the new house. I'm so out of it; the car ride took a lot out of me. I just hope the movers get here soon, because I could totally use a bed to collapse in right now.
When I stepped into the doorway, on my right was a large empty room, and on my left was another large empty room and our future kitchen; the fridge, oven, and dish washer were already installed. Staring in front of me was a long staircase, my eyes wandered up stairs, and soon after I dropped my bags and started walking up the stairs.
My fingers traced the railing with each step that I took. Mom was upstairs, standing inside of a bathroom that had a white tile floor and light green walls. Interesting colors. The white bathtub looked relaxing enough to sleep in, and the mirror on the wall reflected its presence.
"Nice, huh?" Mom says, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, looking over at me.
I shrug. I wish I hated it here. But, it's not as bad as I thought it was going to be.
"It's alright, I guess." I cross my arms awkwardly over the stomach of my sweatshirt.
Mom sighs, and steps out of the bathroom. "Honey, I know this is hard for you. But, sometimes change is good. This house is beautiful, and Sacramento is certainly no Malibu, but it's going to be wonderful here, I can just tell." Mom says reassuringly, placing her two hands on my shoulders, smiling down at me.
"You'll start a new school and you'll make new friends. You always do, you're a very confident young lady." Mom continues. I don't feel like talking right now, but what she is saying does make me feel a teensy bit better. She does have a point. Change can be good. But, I still wish I was home.
"I wish I could still ride the waves." I say quietly. Mom drops her hands, and then engulfs me into a warm hug; I could really use one of these right now. I've been needing one for a while, to be honest.
"There are beaches around here. Maybe not right on the beach like before but I'm sure we'll find a beautiful one around here. I promise." Mom says softly to me. I sniff, and try to hold in my tears. I just things were the way they use to be. Mom kisses my cheek.
"Come on, your room is on the left." Mom, puts her arm on my shoulder and we walk to my new room.
Ten days later things are only slightly better. Things are slightly better for a few reasons. Our stuff has arrived and everything has a place. So now my new home is feeling slightly more cozy. Mom and I went shopping and she bought me a new bedspread and comforter for me. It's blue, white, pink and purple stripes, with blue sheets. It's pretty relaxing.
My bed is under a small, perfectly white window in my room, up against the back wall. The window behind my bed is in the shape of an octagon. I love where my bed is, in my old room I wouldn't be able to do this. So I guess this place does have its advantages.
Mom and I also bought a light purple paint color, she and I painted the room together a few days ago. Mom doesn't start work for another few days, the branch gave her a few extra days to get settled in.
Dad has been home too, he's been searching online for a new job. I'm sure he'll have no trouble finding one. Before we moved my dad was a chef for a high-end restaurant called Chez Hersh. He didn't mind quitting, he had always spent nights complaining about his stuffy, strict old boss.
Mom bought me blinds for the windows, except for the one behind my bed; it was high enough for no one to look in. And she bought me white curtains, we hung them up yesterday, when we were sure that the paint was dried.
I have a bunch of windows in my room, so light will always filter in. I have two skylights; they're small, the size of boxes on my ceiling. I have the one window behind my bed, and three large windows on the side of my wall.
My room is still pretty empty, I have my old blue shag rug I brought from home, I have it set on the side of my bed, so when I crawl out of my bed my feet will meet something soft in the morning.
I have my bureau next to my closet door, the bureau is full with my clothes. I wanted to fill the bureau first. It was like a favoritism thing…I like the bureau more because it came from home, this closet can wait to be filled. Inside of the closet there is a full length mirror; admittedly that will be useful.
I have a desk also brought from home, that is settled in front of the three windows. It's a homework desk, but right now instead of textbooks covering the desk, I have my laptop on top of it instead. Dad let me use a chair from the kitchen as my desk chair for now.
The rest of the house looks alright. The house fills up a little more each day, and I am getting use to it. Sometimes at night after dinner, I grab my music player and go for sort of long walks to check out the neighborhood, and give myself time to breathe and think.
A lot of the time it works. I come back home feeling a little better about living here. Am I going to like it here? Yeah, maybe. Do I feel better about the fact that I start a new school tomorrow alone? No way.
I need to set my alarm clock for six a.m. My alarm clock is my ipod dock. It's actually really cool; I set my alarm on my ipod and pick a certain song to play and plug it into the dock. Then when the time comes the song comes out through the speakers. It's a lot more satisfying than a stupid repetitive buzzing sound. School starts at seven-thirty and runs until one fifty-five. I have no idea why this new school can't be like my old one, and run normal hours like eight to two. I need that extra half hour, all kids do.
I've thought about what I've wanted to wear for the first day over and over. It's remotely warm here, and I only own two pairs of real jeans, because I practically lived on the beach before and I didn't need them then.
I pulled open the draws of my bureau, I grabbed my pair of white denim shorts and set those on top of my desk. I rummaged through the draws to look for a suitable top to wear. I'm having one of those moments where you go through everything about three times until settling for something. I pull out my white camisole and my loose blue and green plaid shirt. Not exactly dressy for the first day of school, but I don't care so much about impressing anyone. I just have to be myself and survive. And if I make any new friends, well that's a bonus. But, I'm not getting my hopes up just yet.
It takes me about forty-five minutes to get ready in the morning for school. But, for some reason this morning it only took me thirty. I woke right up at the sound of All Time Low's 'Dear Maria Count Me In' playing from my Ipod dock. I let my alarm continue to play as I got up and pulled the silver string to my lamp letting the small light bring out in my room.
I crawled out of bed, and pulled my clothes on. I had showered last night, knowing that if I did this morning I would spend too much time standing under the water. After getting dressed, I glanced at my clock, I had another half hour before having to leave. I pulled the covers over my bed, and took my ipod out of the dock. I took my headphones off my nightstand, and dropped the pair into my green cloth bag.
I sighed, still pretty tired. The sunlight barely filtered into my room. It was so early that the sun wasn't even up yet. I took three strides over to my closet door, opening it up so I could view the mirror. I shook my hair out, and then gathered my hair into a lose pony tail. I slide on a pair of sandals from inside the closet, and take another look at myself.
I don't wear make up. My mom taught me that a little make up is okay every once in a while when going out. But, it's not totally necessary. I like to be all natural anyway. Looking at myself in the mirror I think, Well, this is as good as it's going to get. Not caring so much, because I'm fine with my appearance, I shut the door and grab my bag to trudge down stairs.
Mom was awake, and dad I assumed was still asleep. Mom sat at the kitchen table, wearing her blue bathrobe, while skimming pages of the newspaper. She held a cup of tea in one hand. Mom doesn't drink coffee, neither does dad. My dad use to be addicted to it, but like I've said before mom is all natural, so she doesn't do the coffee thing.
"Oh, good morning sweetie." Mom greets, her voice smooth and calming. The sun is shining into the kitchen through the window above the sink. There are no lights on right now, which I don't mind. My eyes get super sensitive to lighting in the morning.
"Morning mom." I mumble, grabbing a mug from the cupboard and pouring myself a cup of tea.
"Did you sleep well?" She asks next.
I place the tea bag inside my mug, and watch it sink in. "Yep." I answer. Mom gets up from her seat, and does a few cat stretches before pushing her chair in.
"Would you like some breakfast?" She asks me, walking toward the refrigerator.
"No thanks. I think I'll grab a breakfast bar or something before I head off to school. I don't get so hungry this early in the morning."
"That's true." Mom says stepping back. "I'm going to go wake your father. He offered to drive you to school last night." Mom starts going toward the staircase. I nod my head, and take a seat at the table, taking small slow sips from the mug.
In the morning I wake up and my fingers and toes are always freezing. So when I drink tea it gives me time to wake up and warm up. I took a seat at the table and started waking up a little more and more. I listened to my parents upstairs, my mom gently waking my father, him rolling over pleading for more time to sleep. My mom giggling and giving him, then starting to messing around. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. I swear my parents are both teenagers sometimes.
Minutes later, I hear my dad's footsteps jogging down the stairs. My eyes darted from the kitchen clock, to him smoothing down the red collar of his polo shirt. I stood up and dumped the little contents left in my mug down the drain, and slung my bag over my shoulder.
"Ready kiddo?" Dad asks me, his voice chipper. Yup, definitely seventeen years old. He grabbed the keys off of the key rack, and swung them around his index finger once.
"Yep." I respond following him out the door.
I felt my stomach tense as dad drove into the school parking lot. I gripped my fingers onto my seat belt. Dad slowed down to the student drop off. "Do you remember you way here?" He asks me.
"Yeah, dad." I answer automatically.
"Because your mom has to work today, she should be getting ready for work now. And I have an interview for one-thirty." I have to walk home today. I make a mental check of the route we took here for my walk home later. I don't mind walking home, except today it's suppose to get super humid later.
"I know dad."
"And the buses never run on the first day of school."
I unlock my door, and look at dad. "I know."
Dad gives me a weak smile as I pull off my seat belt and slide my bag on over my shoulder.
"Have a good first day, pumpkin."
"Thanks dad." I lean over and kiss him on the cheek and let myself out of the car. I start heading toward the building as do the several other kids going in the same direction as me. My first order of business is to find the guidance office to grab my schedule. All the other kids get their schedule's in the mail. Since I'm a transfer student everything gets so much more…complicated.
Entering the school, there were kids coming from all directions going to the same door. Everyone seemed to be walking with someone, or reconnecting with an old friend. Way to make me feel more left out. I try to push away these thoughts and focus on walking into the building.
As I zone in on the door, I swear I hear an annoyed female voice from behind me say, "Who is that girl?" For a second I thought she was talking to me. The only thing stopping me from turning around was the response from another annoyed, sounding girl. The second girl scoffed and said, "Who knows. She kind of looks like Kylie McGarth. Remember from grade seven? She left mid semester and like cut all of her hair off or something." My eyes bug out, does that sort of stuff actually happen here?
"Oh my god, she does. But, Kylie was way skinnier." My face flushes as I swing the door open, hoping I hit one of those girls in the face.
I aimlessly walk through the foyer, not taking note of my surroundings. I'm way to nervous for slow strolls through the new school. Walking out of foyer, into the main hallway there are two ways I can go. The administrative office on my left, and the guidance office on the right. In the center are four doors leading into the cafeteria, where what it looks like most kids wait in the morning.
I turn my head and look over at my three options, unsure where to go. My best bet would be the guidance office or the administrative office. But, what if no one is in there, and I end up looking like an idiot.
Gosh, I'm never this paranoid.
"Oh my gosh, Sadie!" Another high-pitched female voice half-shrieks. I wince, and before I make my final decision the girl continues. "Do you know who that girl is?" She sounds half disgusted, half shocked. I get the achy feeling she is talking about me. I pretend I can't hear her, and listen, closing my eyes.
"Oh my gosh, Katie! I do! That is so totally Brianna Collins. From last year! Wow, she sure lost a whole lot of weight." The other voice, which sounds practically identical to the first, says surprised.
"That's what I was thinking! Gosh, it must be true! Brianna, hi!" One of the girls calls over to me. I turn around and face them. The two girls dressed identical, but hardly looked anything alike. One was tall and tall, and extremely thin. Her friend was a little shorter and had very light skin, and a little chubby.
"Uh…hi. I-I'm um…I'm not Brianna." I stammer.
"Oh." Both girls say in unison, disappointed.
Then they walked away together into the cafeteria.
"Poor Brianna, I miss her." One of the girls says, ignoring me.
"Kay, bye." I mutter to myself.
Turning back to my slight dilemma I decide to go into the guidance office. It's my best option, I don't want to stand in a crowded room with a bunch of sweaty, tired teens. Especially if I don't know any of them. Especially if they're the fake kind that hug each other on the first day; you know the girls that act like they missed each other so much.
I mean, I know that sounds harsh. But, if you actually do miss your friends-well that's fine.
I wrap my fingers underneath the strap of my bag and start walking into the guidance office. The office was empty, besides the secretaries behind the counter. There were plastic benches lined up at the side, and forms, magazines, and pamphlets stacked neatly in a row on the counter.
I approached the counter slowly, not sure if I should really be here right now. None of the secretaries said anything to me. They kept 'working' as if they actually had work to do. Which they shouldn't, I mean come on…it's the first day.
"Excuse me?" I finally speak up.
One of them, wearing black framed glasses, a pink floral pattern blouse and black dress pants glanced up at me. "Dear, you're suppose to wait in the cafeteria like everyone else." She says to me dismissively.
"No, I'm new here. I didn't receive a schedule yet." I say quieter than I intended.
Did I ever mention that I'm not use to being reprimanded? Cause I'm not. What the secretary said to me wasn't mean, or anything. But, the way she said it, made me feel dumb. I'm not use to feeling like that.
Her face was slightly apologetic, as she turned back to her computer and started clicking around. "Name?"
"Bridgette Benson." I clear my throat.
She mumbled my name a few times before clicking again, and the printer began running. "I'm printing your schedule out now, once I hand it to you all you have to do is go to your first period class when the bell rings." She says to be sounding less than enthusiastic. "Were you assigned a locker?"
"No." I watch her glide over in her swivel chair to the filing cabinet, she pulls out a small red and black lock, and hands it to me. "The combination for this one is ten, twenty, ten."
"That should be easy to remember." I say to myself as she handed me the lock. I test the lock out a few times and she glided over to the printer and tore my schedule out.
When she came back over to me she handed me my schedule and said, "Here you go, on here is the list of your classes, teachers, lunch schedule and locker placement. Have a good first day. Oh, and welcome to Fleet Coast High." She finishes with a smile, in time with the first bell ringing. I take the schedule from her white, bony hand and exit the office making my way down the hall to try and find my locker. If it's even on this floor.
I clutch my schedule in my hands. I've been holding this piece of paper so tightly together that it's wrinkled. I folded the schedule once again in its very familiar pattern, and slip it into my back pocket.
I've done this before, go to school I mean. I've never been to a new school before. Even so I should be able to open my locker and go to class with zero problems. Now what's my combination? I stare at my new locker on the outside, the locker plate with its black numbers 3590.
I dropped my green bag on the floor and let it sit there as a mass group of kids came through the hallway. This place is huge, who knows how many kids go here. Normally I do not get self-conscious easily. I mean if I can surf a thirty-foot monster wave in a wet suit, or even a bikini and have no problems I should be fairly confident. But, this is different. This is high school. I swear I heard some girls murmuring something, maybe about me, again. I seriously need to know what every girl's damage is here. Aren't there any other girls they can talk about? Seriously, I'm just the new girl. Evidentially, everyone things I'm the girl who left and came back. What, is this school really so small that they never have new students?
Oh no. This is that kind of school. That type of school where everybody knows everybody. Where the town is so small that if you tell one person something, everyone knows. So everyone here knows each other. No one knows me. And I know no one.
This can't be good. I've been here for about fifteen minutes and I already know I don't belong. This is going to be one of those teen horror stories. Where everyone is secretly douche bag, or a slut. And every year a girl gets pregnant. My eyes widen as I get caught in my thoughts. This isn't going to go well. I just know it.
My fingers fidgeted with the lock, I twisted it to the left…ten….twenty….ten. It snapped open, and I opened my locker door with grace.
I picked my bag up again and started piling in the notebooks I brought for future use, unless I'll be using some today. I hesitate, and drop a notebook in my bag just in case. Before closing my locker, I heard it again.
"Who is that?" A male voice this time, instead of the typical girl, who always seem to sound like they immediately hate me.
I've always gotten along better with guys than girls, like I always had a few girlfriends to hang with, but then I've always had more girls who just hated me for no reason. My closest girlfriend was Shannon. We met when we were eight in a surfing competition, we were both in the junior division. We were always really close, so when I told her about my problem, she claimed this was because I'm "totally hot" and guys dig me. So not true. I've never even had a boyfriend.
"Why don't you go up and ask?" Another voice said.
Remain calm. Some guy is coming up come and talk to you and ask who you are. No big deal. I calmly and slowly stack each individual notebook into my locker and out of the corner of my eye, I see a tall, blonde, totally gorgeous looking guy come my way.
This is not going to go well.
The guy leans against the lockers and doesn't say anything. Maybe he's waiting for me to finish, or maybe he and his friend weren't talking about me. Yeah, that's probably it.
I exhale quietly of relief, and close my locker. I slide the lock back into place and shut it neatly. As soon as I began to pull my schedule out again, the blonde said. "Hey new girl." I freeze. I pull my schedule out and unfold it while saying, "Uh…hi?" Clever. I take this opportunity to check him out. He had blonde hair that parted at the center and a stupid brown cow boy hat…weird.
I saw that he was wearing a pink open button down shirt, with no undershirt showing off his abs. Which admittedly, looked pretty fantastic. He finished with a pair of blue shorts and sandals. But, who was this guy kidding? He looked like a tool.
After what felt like a really long awkward silence he smoothly asked, "You got a name?"
"Bridgette." I answer immediately.
"Cute." I felt warmth run to my cheeks as I could feel them turning a light pink.
The first bell rang. And students began leaving the hallway and going to class. He hardly looked alert and leaned off the locker.
"Well, see ya around." He said walking pass me.
"Guess so." I said to myself, more than to him, since he was already gone.
I looked down in my hands, oh yeah period one. I pull green bag over my shoulder and began walking down the hall to room 229. Biology-grade eleven. I imagine dissection and cells. Ew.
Alright, so first chapter~done.
Stick around for the next one!
I hope you all liked it, and i hope you all enjoy the stress-free relationship of Bridgette and Geoff
yes im referring to the fact that Duncan and Courtney is just...over. :( I really liked them!
Okay review, and give me some feedback if you have the time! love you guys!