Thursday, 17 September 2009
11:31:49 AM (GMT)
I stare at them in horror. "It's a girl? EWWWWWWW!" I cry, backing against the
wall. "So gross!"
"No, God, Shawn. It's definetely a boy," the unnamed boy says.
I blink. "Well, since it's not the blue haired guy--"
"Why do you rule him out?" the unnamed guy says.
"Why don't you tell me your name?"
"Fine. I'm Eli."
"Okay, 'cuz his hair is cool. Gay guys do NOT have hair THAT cool," I say. "Can I
Tray bends down towards me. I pet his hair. It's soft like cotton. Tray purrs.
Okay, so that's not weird at all, is it? I remove my hands from his head and turn to
Rylan. He stares at me, holding onto his girlfriends'--wow, gotta use the plural with
the apostrophe after it, meaning there's more than one...--arms.
"And, it can't be the blonde. He is too hot....and, it's not you....three--or
more--girlfriends. So....it's TRAY!" I wail. "We can convert you, Tray!"
I throw myself at his feet, crying. I am SO dramatic. Everyone stares at me oddly.
I am making a complete fool out of myself. Tray, meanwhile, is grinning. "It's NOT
me. But, I'd like to hear your idea of how you can convert me."
"Okay...I'll start by running my fingers through your hair, start kissing you, and
then finish by....want me to demonstrate?" I say, winking at him. I run my fingers
through his hair like I said, then kiss him...
He nods. "Please."
Then, I pull my hand back and punch him in the face. 4(JOSH touched the four while
I was typing--nothing to do with the story) He howls. Everyone starts laughing.
"You're not gay. It's the blonde. I can convert him...." I trail off. "This'll be
The blonde, James, shakes his head. "I'm strictly an all-guy person," he says.
I shake my head. "It's ashame really. Oh the horros of gay guys who only like
guys, and won't even let themselves be converted..." I trail off, then burst into a
huge smile. "So....what's up?"
"Oh, you know, the usual," Eli says breezily. "Just killing people. Flirting with
each other. Trying to get James to STOP stalking me....this and that. And, then,
after this, we'll feed off of and possibly--no, we will--kill you."
I shiver. "Sounds fun."
"It is," he says. "Or, really, it will be. And what are you doing?"
"The usual for me: getting caught in traps, about to get killed. Ya know, the easy
stuff." I shrug casually.
Last edited: 26 September 2009