www.whyville.net Feb 22, 2009 Weekly Issue



sims2girl
Times Writer

Fallen: Part 16

Users' Rating
Rate this article
 
FRONT PAGE
CREATIVE WRITING
SCIENCE
HOT TOPICS
POLITICS
HEALTH
PANDEMIC

Sean Allen

Azi's fiancee?

The girl stared up at me, her blue eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?"

"Sean. I'm Rayne's best friend." I looked around. "Do you know where they went?"

"Shopping or something." Grace waved a dismissive hand. "Why are you here?"

"Rayne called me . . . She said she needed help with her science homework. Do you know when she'll be back?"

Grace sneered. "Rayne," she growled. "Did not think to tell me when she'd be returning my fiancee."

"Oh. Well." I shifted my weight from foot to foot. This was quickly growing uncomfortable. "Umm . . . I'll just . . . go?"

"You don't have to. I was just making something to eat . . . Are you hungry?"

I was . . . But I had really been looking forward to seeing Rayne again, and I was anxious to get home. I'd left my cell phone there, and I needed to know where she was. If Azi was hurting her in any way, there would be gratuitous PG-13 violence.

Then again, I could call from the house phone, assuming Rayne had remembered to leave her cell on.

I really was hungry.

"Yeah. Okay."

Grace threw me a smile. Her teeth were small and pearly white. "I hope you like omelettes."

I didn't like eggs. I never had. But, for the sake of finding Rayne faster, I smiled back and nodded.

Grace grabbed my hand and pulled me into the kitchen.

Whoa.

Touching her, even the minimal, innocent contact, was electrifying. Her hand was warm and smooth as satin. I couldn't tell if they were that way naturally, or if she'd used moisturizer.

I was still pondering over this as she set down an plate heaped with brown, red, blue, and green.

"It's my first time making omelettes." She announced proudly as she watched me poke at the gelatinous mass.

"Oh. It looks . . ." Like cat puke. "Tasty. What's in it?"

Grace smiled and put a finger to her lips. Then she turned around and grabbed a jar of peanut butter, a box of fruit loops, and a bag of marshmallows off the kitchen counter. "My own special recipe."

Okay, so nothing toxic. It still didn't look too appetizing.

"Can I use the phone?" I asked. Her face fell slightly.

"Aren't you even gonna take a bite?" Except for the low harshness of her voice, it could have been a whiny two year old's. I sighed and shoveled a bite in. It was . . . horrible. I tasted soap.

"Now?"

She nodded and I dashed out of the room. After emptying the contents of my mouth into a garbage can, I dialed the number to Rayne's cell.

She picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?" Her voice, god bless her, it was good to hear her voice.

"Ray? Where are you?"

"Sean! Oh, thank god it's you. I was afraid that psycho was calling again . . . She hasn't stopped since we left."

"Psycho?"

"Grace."

I sensed something besides crazy going on here. Grace was really nice, in a dollhouse "Echo" sort of way.

"Oh. Well . . . Where are you?"

"Shopping. Azi needed dress shirts, and we got caught up." There was something in her voice that I recognized for the first time. A sadness that I didn't like at all.

"Rayray, is something wrong?"

I heard her sigh. "No. I'm okay."

"Are you sure? Do I need to administer some butt whoopin?"

"I'll take a rain check. I'm just . . . a little tired . . . And I miss my mom. That's all."

That seemed less than likely, but if she didn't want me to know, I wouldn't pry the truth out of her.

"Okay. Well, I'll be here when you get home. Put on your thinking cap . . ."

"I will. Bye."

She hung up.

"Bye." I whispered into the dead line.

I was turning around when I tripped. An unusually clumsy thing for me to do, I'll admit. I'd wonder about that later.

Grace was behind me. The second it took for her to understand what was happening wasn't enough. I landed full on her.

FULL on her.

I pulled my lips away from hers and scrambled to my feet.

"Sorry." I muttered and tried to get away.

"Oh no you don't." She grabbed my arm. "You're EXACTLY what I've been waiting for."

 

Did you like this article?
1 Star = Bleh.5 Stars = Props!
Rate it!
Ymail this article to a friend.
Discuss this article in the Forums.

  Back to front page


times@whyville.net
10088