Amelia-Fifteen Years Old.
“That filthy, little monkey has another thing coming if he thinks he can just get away with something like this.”
I stomp my muddy feet on the floor. A sprinkle of dried dirt fell to the wood. He managed to ruin my summer yet again. Tristan and Marcus thought it’d be fun to play with the pigs. Curiously I followed them. I couldn’t fathom what was so interesting about a couple of pigs rolling around in their own filth. Well, I got a little closer and Tristan pushed me in. Where he came from, I do not know. But I fell, face first into a very deep puddle of yuck.
Of course they had a good laugh then, but it will be I who has the last laugh this summer. I just have to think of something so horrid, so brutal, he’d be scarred for life. But what, to a boy, could be gross? Tristan would pick his own nose and save it for dinner if he didn’t have a gourmet feast every night.
As I change, by myself, into something a little less dripping wet, I think of things gross for a boy.
Could I sneak live worms into his food? No, it’s not gross enough. He’d only take them out and wiggle them about around my face.
Oh! A snake in his bed! ...No I would never be able to touch the slimy thing.
“Ugh!” I huff as I fall onto my plush bed. “What does it take?”
Finally, an idea pops into my head. My days at my summer prison were coming to an end. My last day, that will be the day I…
There is a knock at my door. So quiet I can’t be sure if it was a real knock.
“Who is it?” I ask anyway.
There are a few more knocks. I stand and stomp towards the door, so that my little visitor knows just how annoyed I am today. I swing open my door, not caring if it hit the wall, and it smacked the wall but I didn’t flinch.
Standing in my doorway was the tall sixteen year old that I loathe with a sick passion. He has curly brown hair that frames his baby face. Tristan is sufficiently taller than me now, he’s almost six feet. He could be cute if he wasn’t such a jerk. He smiled at me in that stupid way that he only does when we are alone. It’s a smile that says ‘I totally just got you and there’s nothing you can do about it.’ I hate him!
“Dinner is almost ready,” he says. I fight the urge to stick my tongue out at him. “I also wanted to talk to you about something.”
I cross my arms as if I care about anything he has to say.
“I wanted to apologize for the way I have been misbehaving.” I roll my eyes. “No, really. I promise, that was the last time.”
I laugh. “If you think that I would actually believe you, you’re seriously mistaken.”
He raised a hand. “I swear that I will never purposely harm you or poke fun at you in any way ever again.” He kept a straight face as he spoke, as if he believed it.
“Yeah, okay,” I say and slam my door shut.
“Amy!” he yells through the door.
I lean against the door. “Leave me alone, you stupid puts!”
He sighs and something lightly thumps against the door. “Please, Amy.”
I stand there completely bewildered. What brought this on? For years and years this boy has tormented me and treated me like dirt. No, less than dirt. He treated me like a pebble in his shoe, something he can ignore and then toss away. And yet here he stands wanting to apologize.
“If you are doing this for your mother, you can forget it. I don’t care.”
With a slight harshness in his tone, he says, “I’m not! I’m being true, Amy. Please listen.”
I walk away from the door and sit on my bed. I stare at the door secretly hoping that he’d open it and come rushing in being the gentleman I always wished he’d be. He’d fall on his knees and beg for forgiveness.
Instead, I heard his frustrated foot steps leave my door.
Tristan-Sixteen Years Old
I tried. I tried to apologize for four days straight, but Amy wouldn’t have any of it. She stayed locked in her room, her maid the only one entering or leaving. I would wait outside her door sometimes, just sitting there across the hall. I couldn’t be sure if she could tell that I sat there or not, but I did. Everyday.
Just like I am now, staring at her door waiting for her to exit. It is her last day at my home and she has yet to forgive me.
There was something different this summer. She was different. I can’t really pinpoint what it is about her. I don’t like her. I still hate her and her people and would spit at her if mother wouldn’t scold me for it, but I don’t know. When Marcus told me to push her into the mud, I was hesitant. He didn’t notice, but I almost didn’t do it. I didn’t want to. I felt so bad when I laughed, it was very forced.
Maybe it was because she didn’t cry when we harassed her, or maybe I’m just over it, I don’t know. But something’s different.
My mother calls to her, telling her that her father has arrived to take her home. I sigh, knowing my time is up. She opens her door with her chin up high and walks down the hall, not even giving me a second glance.
She’s a little taller than last summer, not that I can really tell since I grew about a foot, but her posture is different. Prouder? More mature? She doesn’t wear her hair in pig tails anymore either. She wears it completely down in tousled waves. It’s longer than I expected it would be. Her brown waves shine in the light as she moves down the hall away from me.
I stand and take a deep breath. “Amy, please wait.”
She pauses, but doesn’t turn to me. I take the chance and say what I wanted to say for the past week. “I can’t wait till next summer. I…I’ll miss you.”
Her fist clenches around her bag, but that is the only physical change in her. She doesn’t say anything as she walks away.
I follow her to the front door where my mother and her father are talking. Marcus is there standing next to Muriel and some others that I do not know. She puts her bag down and turns to me with a smile on her face. I smile back at her, my stomach wrenching. What is going on? What does this mean?
Her father says his good-byes and she does the same, except she doesn’t follow him out the door. Amy falls behind.
I secretly hope that she will tell me she forgives me and that she can’t wait to see me again. But she instead moves to Marcus. He stares down at her completely bewildered. She giggles then moves on her toes and plants a kiss on Marcus’s cheek.
My jaw falls open, and so does his. She doesn’t even glance back at either of us as she skips to her father’s side. He reaches out a hand and helps her into her carriage where she disappeared. Beside me, Marcus touches his cheek and chuckles.
“She’s something, isn’t she?” he asks.
I fight the urge to punch him in the same place Amy had just touched with her soft lips.
(Author's note: I know I didn't have anything in here about Arians or wolves, but I just couldn't find a place to fit it. Maybe I'll go back and change something or add something in. Not sure yet.)
I feel the samee way!
I would change 'misbehaving' to 'acting'.