The Chronicles of Regina Ch. 5-7

Chapter 5

It is a proven fact that teachers are addicted to laser pointers. Students are no longer allowed to carry them, but teachers go around waving them at boards. It's supposedly to prove their point but I think it's to wave in our face that they are excused from rules that we have to follow.
It is also a proven fact that cheerleaders are shallow. I didn't think anything of the accepting the bet. I wasn't thinking about consequences or the fact that Damian a.k.a. Emo Boy was a real person. It's kind of like when you remember perfectly the beginning of a movie, but you can't remember the outcome. I was thinking too much about the beginning of Cruel Intentions and not that Sebastian actually dies in the end. (Sorry for the spoiler).
Therefore I was a shallow cheerleader. After Damian threw up in my car I was completely and totally repulsed. Instead of taking ten minutes to get to his house, I made it in three.
When I got home I threw the keys at the housekeeper and screamed at her to get the car cleaned. I trudged my feet up the three flights of stairs and dragged my way to my bathroom while I pulled off my stilettos. After it was my turn praying to the porcelain god I dropped myself on my oversized bed. Don't think I was some bulimic, I was just disgusted. My feet were red and I was rolling around in my comforter like a skitzo. I was known for getting really worked up over nothing. The only thing that calmed me down was remembering the bet.
I had always secretly been on the verge of insanity. My parents had forced me to visit several psychiatrists. After I had refused to talk to any of them they had labeled me "untreatable" and just put me on antidepressants to please my folks. It was those pills and my overwhelming sense of competitiveness that helped me.
So after watching a movie and having yet another diet Coke binge I finally calmed down and turned my cell phone back on after previously shutting it down to prevent the infinite number of calls I received each afternoon. Instantly I was flooded with people ringing my number to tell me about their problems and who's party was worth going to tonight and why they broke up with what's-his-name. Everyone except for Brianna.

Chapter 6

I woke up with my torso hanging off the bed and one side of my hair sticking to my head. I must have passed out while reaching for the phone. I remembered dropping it¦
At school I kept trying to talk to Bri. Every time I found her Josh was holding her like that fat kid back in elementary school who always used to hog all of the magic markers.
During fourth period I decided to face my fears and skip my way to Damian.
"Damian! I can't wait until the concert tonight!" I squeaked trying to act like Bianca in 10 Things I Hate About You.
"Yea¦" well I'd be nervous too if I threw up in the head cheerleader's Mercedes Benz.
"So do you want a ride home again? I promise I'll drive slower for you this time," I said winking. My friends had told me countless times that I drove like a maniac, so I assumed that was why he threw up.
He appeared shocked, "You're not mad, or grossed out?"
"Nah, it happens all the time," not really, but I had over five hundred dollars on the line.
The next three and a half periods I came up with a plan to help him. I was going to give him a makeover, like in She's All That or Jawbreaker or Whatever It Takes or the rest of those dumb-ass yet addicting movies.
So during seventh period lunch I pulled him to the bleachers outside so I wouldn't have to face Jake.
I leaned forward, "You'd look a lot better without glasses," I slid them off his face and placed them on his mound of binders that he carried throughout the day. Maybe he didn't know what a locker was.
"Yea but I can't see."
I wanted to just scream, "Suck it up!" but instead I went for the kinder, "So you should get contacts," line.
I ruffled his hair and slowly unbuttoned the top button on his shirt and fixing his collar while cooing, "There, you look a million times better."
He really did. His eyes shone bright blue. His black hair made his skin glow and he looked like an Abercrombie model that just got out of bed after a long night. Maybe even better¦
I was falling for him.
And then he literally fell.

Chapter 7

The bell had rung and we were making our way down the bleachers. I think he must of tripped over the notebooks and maybe the fact that he couldn't see had something to do with it. Either way, I watched him roll down and land hard on the ground. He was unconscious. I ran into the school and across the building to the health office.
"Regina, dear. Skipping gym again are we?" The nurses knew me very well because of how often I'd skip classes.
"Damian just fell off the bleachers and I think he's unconscious now," I blurted out.
They almost called an ambulance, but the nurses at our school still don't know how to work the phones in the office, and Damian kind of jerked when they went to put him on a stretcher.
I almost stepped on a shard of glass. Then I realized it was a piece out of the many that once called themselves glasses. I picked them up but then realized they would be no used of any kind, so I just threw them away.
I walked through the entrance of school behind the stretcher and the whole student body seemed to be standing there with their mouths gaping open. Losers¦
I was able to skip eighth period English and sat next to where Damian was laying, talking occasionally to fellow rule-breakers hoping to avoid tests and push ups. Five minutes after the final bell rang he finally opened his eyes and started making a groaning noise. (I hope he doesn't make that noise in bed).
"How are you? You fell really hard," he looked up at me with his eyes glazed over.
He tried sitting up a little to fast and almost passed out again after muttering, "I'm okay¦"
Sure you are, Sparky, "Do you think you'll still be able to go to the concert tonight?" I hoped the bet wasn't obvious. But for the first time, I truly wanted him to go.
"Yep."
"Great, I'll take you home now. Eighth period ended like fifteen minutes ago."
"Thanks."
I was quite nervous on the way to the car. It had taken the cleaners more than an hour to clean. Finally sitting down in the leather seats, I took a deep breath.
"By the way, where are my glasses?"