Teenage Dreams: Invited
“OH MY GOD!!!”
Those were the first words that started my day. My best friend called me very early in the morning. I was still wishing to go back to sleep. My eyes were still heavy, and my body wouldn’t move and get up. I slept late last night because I was learning a new song. That was the problem with me: once I got all interested in something, I wouldn’t stop until I get them perfectly. My mom was constantly checking on me last night because she thought I fell asleep and left the lights on. She wasn’t actually mad that it was the dead of night and I was still wide awake making noises using my guitar; she was glad that I was setting time for music and continuing what her husband had implemented on their daughter. Yes, we lost the talented man in our family, but my mom was still with me – unchanging, still supporting and believing. I got the song in the end. Maybe I had hit the sack by four in the morning. I checked the clock on my bedside table and cursed that it was just eight. I only had four hours of sleep. My best friend was really the morning person, and apparently I was part of her ‘I wake up very early everyday hooray’ routine. But I thought it was something very important, hence I answered the irritating rings of my phone.
It was important…
on my best friend’s part. She told me that someone asked her out.
“Who is he? Have I met him?” I asked groggily. Of course, I needed to know who she dated.
“You’ve met him already. He was the guy from my party. The one I told you I like.” She answered.
“Really? No way. Whoa.” I was suddenly awake. I didn’t like all those relationship pep talks, but really, that guy was fast. “He’s the guy from the varsity team, isn’t he? Nice catch you got there huh.” I enthusiastically said. “So, what happened? How did he ask you?”
“He talked to me on the hallway the following week after my party, then we exchanged numbers, and you know what happens after that. Then, last night he asked me out! I was supposed to call you right away, but I know that you were already asleep. So that’s all. Cute, isn’t it?” I wager she was blushing right at that moment.
“I was still awake. I slept by four. But really, wow. Just
wow. So, what are your plans?”
“Oh, right. I was thinking that maybe… you should come with me.”
Now was I
wide awake. “What?! Why? That’s your date, not ours. I’d spoil all the fun, really.” I protested.
“No. I want you to come. I don’t know him that well, and I might get uncomfortable with him. And don’t worry, we’ll come in pairs.”
“Pairs? What do you mean?” I was just so sure she was planning something, something that I never liked.
“Pairs. Double date. I will ask my cousin to come, too. I know you met him already. Just so none of us would be, you know, out of place. Genius, right?” She giggled; I was stunned – and annoyed.
“Why him? Why don’t you just ask our other friends? I reckon that would be better.” I proposed.
“Nah. I don’t want them to come. You know how wild they get, and they’d just tease me all day, and I want my cousin to gain more friends. I’m sure you could help him.” She sighed.
I was going to propose another plan again, but I remembered what her cousin had said before – about him not having friends, about how maybe his schoolmates were afraid that he’d be the “know it all type.” I remembered how he asked me if I could be his friend. I felt a bit sorry for him, and I couldn’t believe that I still felt that way. That was like a month ago. “Oh, yeah… Okay then, for the greater good. When is this date of yours? I mean
ours?” I was still annoyed.
“This coming Saturday. I still don’t know where, but we’ll just fetch you there. Thank you! I’m sure he will be very glad. He really likes you.” She sounded smug.
“What did you say? He likes who?” I asked, surprised. I was hoping it wasn’t what I thought I heard.
“He likes who what? Did I say something like that? I didn’t, silly! I guess you’re still sleepy; you’re imagining things. I’m even sure you’re still under your blankets. Go back to your slumber, sleepy head!” She said, and she was muttering something to herself about slipping and being careless.
“Okay. Just let me know if there are some changes. Coming to a date that I didn’t plan…” I sighed. “Good bye.”
“Good bye. See you in school.” She hung up.
I didn’t fuss over the date –
date, even the word crept me out – on Saturday. I didn’t think of what to wear or where we’d go. I just didn’t care. I was just doing it for my best friend and her cousin. I was sure it would be just one of those dates that I sat into and waited to end. I didn’t like going out with guys, not romantic dates. I didn’t think anything about it, unlike my best friend who was already stressing over her dress and what makeup to wear. I couldn’t blame her; she really liked that jock.
“Do you think I should wear this?” She was holding out a red mini dress in front of me. We were inside her pink room on one of our free days.
“Not red. Wear something that somehow says ‘I’m sweet but don’t mess with me.’ It would make a good impression. And oh, that dress is too short.”
“You’re right.” She rummaged her closet for more. “How about this?” She showed me her black tough-looking dress that wasn’t too long or too short. “If you won’t approve of this you’d have to go shopping with me.”
“No. That’s good. That’s cool. Don’t wear too much makeup.”
“You sound like my mom. You’re even
stricter than my mom.” She said. “But you’re right.”
“I know that.” I grinned.
“How about you? Have you already picked out your dress? I would be glad to help you if you haven’t.”
“Dress? I won’t wear a dress. For goodness’ sake, why would I do that? Besides, it’s not
my date. I’m just your chaperon, remember?”
“For goodness’ sake, why wouldn’t you do that? Besides, it’s
your date too. My cousin is coming, remember?”
“Don’t use my words. Be original, darling.”
“Whatever. The point is, you need to prepare because you’re. Going. On. A. Date.”
“I don’t ever prepare, you know that. Whatever I see on my closet, I’ll wear. Don’t worry, I won’t put on something revealing and hot or too covered and conservative. I’m a rock star; I have good taste.” I made a face that I knew was close to what rock stars looked like.
She laughed. I wanted to ask her about her cousin, but I didn’t dare because I didn’t want her to think that I was invading her cousin’s life. I just kept them to myself.
What kind of help does he need? I thought. I wasn’t a psychologist or a counselor. I was not even talkative. Maybe the answers to my questions would just come in time – in a rock star’s time.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Teenage Dreams: Invited
“OH MY GOD!!!”
Those were the first words that started my day. My best friend called me very early in the morning. I was still wishing to go back to sleep. My eyes were still heavy, and my body wouldn’t move and get up. I slept late last night because I was learning a new song. That was the problem with me: once I got all interested in something, I wouldn’t stop until I get them perfectly. My mom was constantly checking on me last night because she thought I fell asleep and left the lights on. She wasn’t actually mad that it was the dead of night and I was still wide awake making noises using my guitar; she was glad that I was setting time for music and continuing what her husband had implemented on their daughter. Yes, we lost the talented man in our family, but my mom was still with me – unchanging, still supporting and believing. I got the song in the end. Maybe I had hit the sack by four in the morning. I checked the clock on my bedside table and cursed that it was just eight. I only had four hours of sleep. My best friend was really the morning person, and apparently I was part of her ‘I wake up very early everyday hooray’ routine. But I thought it was something very important, hence I answered the irritating rings of my phone.
It was important…
on my best friend’s part. She told me that someone asked her out.
“Who is he? Have I met him?” I asked groggily. Of course, I needed to know who she dated.
“You’ve met him already. He was the guy from my party. The one I told you I like.” She answered.
“Really? No way. Whoa.” I was suddenly awake. I didn’t like all those relationship pep talks, but really, that guy was fast. “He’s the guy from the varsity team, isn’t he? Nice catch you got there huh.” I enthusiastically said. “So, what happened? How did he ask you?”
“He talked to me on the hallway the following week after my party, then we exchanged numbers, and you know what happens after that. Then, last night he asked me out! I was supposed to call you right away, but I know that you were already asleep. So that’s all. Cute, isn’t it?” I wager she was blushing right at that moment.
“I was still awake. I slept by four. But really, wow. Just
wow. So, what are your plans?”
“Oh, right. I was thinking that maybe… you should come with me.”
Now was I
wide awake. “What?! Why? That’s your date, not ours. I’d spoil all the fun, really.” I protested.
“No. I want you to come. I don’t know him that well, and I might get uncomfortable with him. And don’t worry, we’ll come in pairs.”
“Pairs? What do you mean?” I was just so sure she was planning something, something that I never liked.
“Pairs. Double date. I will ask my cousin to come, too. I know you met him already. Just so none of us would be, you know, out of place. Genius, right?” She giggled; I was stunned – and annoyed.
“Why him? Why don’t you just ask our other friends? I reckon that would be better.” I proposed.
“Nah. I don’t want them to come. You know how wild they get, and they’d just tease me all day, and I want my cousin to gain more friends. I’m sure you could help him.” She sighed.
I was going to propose another plan again, but I remembered what her cousin had said before – about him not having friends, about how maybe his schoolmates were afraid that he’d be the “know it all type.” I remembered how he asked me if I could be his friend. I felt a bit sorry for him, and I couldn’t believe that I still felt that way. That was like a month ago. “Oh, yeah… Okay then, for the greater good. When is this date of yours? I mean
ours?” I was still annoyed.
“This coming Saturday. I still don’t know where, but we’ll just fetch you there. Thank you! I’m sure he will be very glad. He really likes you.” She sounded smug.
“What did you say? He likes who?” I asked, surprised. I was hoping it wasn’t what I thought I heard.
“He likes who what? Did I say something like that? I didn’t, silly! I guess you’re still sleepy; you’re imagining things. I’m even sure you’re still under your blankets. Go back to your slumber, sleepy head!” She said, and she was muttering something to herself about slipping and being careless.
“Okay. Just let me know if there are some changes. Coming to a date that I didn’t plan…” I sighed. “Good bye.”
“Good bye. See you in school.” She hung up.
I didn’t fuss over the date –
date, even the word crept me out – on Saturday. I didn’t think of what to wear or where we’d go. I just didn’t care. I was just doing it for my best friend and her cousin. I was sure it would be just one of those dates that I sat into and waited to end. I didn’t like going out with guys, not romantic dates. I didn’t think anything about it, unlike my best friend who was already stressing over her dress and what makeup to wear. I couldn’t blame her; she really liked that jock.
“Do you think I should wear this?” She was holding out a red mini dress in front of me. We were inside her pink room on one of our free days.
“Not red. Wear something that somehow says ‘I’m sweet but don’t mess with me.’ It would make a good impression. And oh, that dress is too short.”
“You’re right.” She rummaged her closet for more. “How about this?” She showed me her black tough-looking dress that wasn’t too long or too short. “If you won’t approve of this you’d have to go shopping with me.”
“No. That’s good. That’s cool. Don’t wear too much makeup.”
“You sound like my mom. You’re even
stricter than my mom.” She said. “But you’re right.”
“I know that.” I grinned.
“How about you? Have you already picked out your dress? I would be glad to help you if you haven’t.”
“Dress? I won’t wear a dress. For goodness’ sake, why would I do that? Besides, it’s not
my date. I’m just your chaperon, remember?”
“For goodness’ sake, why wouldn’t you do that? Besides, it’s
your date too. My cousin is coming, remember?”
“Don’t use my words. Be original, darling.”
“Whatever. The point is, you need to prepare because you’re. Going. On. A. Date.”
“I don’t ever prepare, you know that. Whatever I see on my closet, I’ll wear. Don’t worry, I won’t put on something revealing and hot or too covered and conservative. I’m a rock star; I have good taste.” I made a face that I knew was close to what rock stars looked like.
She laughed. I wanted to ask her about her cousin, but I didn’t dare because I didn’t want her to think that I was invading her cousin’s life. I just kept them to myself.
What kind of help does he need? I thought. I wasn’t a psychologist or a counselor. I was not even talkative. Maybe the answers to my questions would just come in time – in a rock star’s time.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
← older / top / newer →
a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
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Already several months had passed, and I am missing
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry more and more each fleeting day. There are just some things in life that we can never forget – especially that something that had given us knowledge, skills, strong relationships and a second home. I am glad that everything in the magical world is now at peace, since Voldemort (yes, I can now say his name; no need to be afraid) had died. I had secretly admired Tom Marvolo Riddle (Voldemort’s birth name) though, because of his intelligence, passion and love for magic. Wasn’t he very clever to think of and conjure his seven
Horcruxes to preserve his life, or form a clan of
Death Eaters who were very loyal to him and would give up their lives just for him to succeed? Not everybody can acquire that much loyalty from people these days. I do not, however, admire him for the way he had carried out all of his plans. He had a good agenda, his means just weren’t morally right. But he still is one of the darkest wizards of all time… and let’s leave it that way.
Oh, for all those who are baffled of what I’m saying here and who the heck I am, my name is
Christine Faye Ordas, and I am an alumnus of Hogwarts. I came from the bronze-and-blue-clad house of the smart ass witch Rowena Ravenclaw and her dictum
“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.” And yes, I know the wonderful Luna Lovegood (she’s such a darling) and Harry Potter’s first crush Cho Chang. I had just left Hogwarts last May. Right now I am trying to pursue a career in magical researches, literature and writing. It’s my dream to inscribe intellectual books, publish and sell them in
Flourish and Blotts for the future Hogwarts students’ use. I am also planning to credibly write for the
Daily Prophet, the magical world’s primary news bulletin. And of course, I will be very much honored to contribute to Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood’s
Quibbler (hence, my interest in magical researches). I have always found the Lovegoods a fascinating family, and I bet working with and for them will be very exciting. Or maybe, in Merlin’s beard’s time, I can write legends and bedtime stories like the famous – and wickedly brilliant – Beedle the Bard.
And that’s how my life goes these days. I am utterly missing my old school, my friends, the Great Hall, the bronze eagle knocker just outside the Ravenclaw common room, Professor Flitwick (the head of our house), Hogsmeade, the Quidditch matches (although I didn’t actually play for the house), the moving portraits, the castle ghosts, the pumpkins on Halloween, the giant pine trees on Christmas, Rubeus Hagrid’s (Hogwarts’ gamekeeper) tea and treacle fudge – even the crabby Argus Filch (Hogwarts’ caretaker) I miss. Maybe I can visit the school grounds sometimes and see how the magical world’s been doing since Voldemort died (I’ve been spending my months in the muggle world, you see). I’ve heard everybody’s been moving on and starting all over again; the ministry is back on work under Kingsley Shacklebolt; and Harry Potter’s scar haven’t been disturbing him since.
All is well, indeed.
And because of that, we should celebrate and drink firewhisky! Oh, I still don’t drink firewhisky; I can take butterbeer or tea or pumpkin juice – just not firewhisky, please.
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