Rule #14: Don't be a Doormat
People don't tell us what to do, we tell them.
-()-
Monday is superhero day.
And, as a member of prom committee, I'm required to take a part in it. And all the other events that go along with, including every day of spirit week and homecoming itself.
Irene, of course, already has a costume ready for me.
"Unfortunately, most female superheroes are created as eye-candy, a tool for tragedies, love interests or all of the above," Irene declares, shuffling through her suitcase. "That's why I created a costume that will go against popular belief in what a female superhero's role should be. That is why I present to you - Catwoman!"
I stare at the fuzzy black suit for a second. "Wasn't Catwoman created to be a love interest?"
"Not today! With this costume, you'll be representing all the amazing female characters that never got a chance to show their true, bad-ass powers, because the producers were too busy making revealing costumes and putting them in sexualized scenes!"
"Irene," I start carefully. "The boys on the football team already whistle every time I pass by the locker room. What do you think they're going to do when I'm carrying a whip and wearing a cat costume?"
"Whip them! Show them the power of Catwoman?"
"Did you drink that energy drink again-"
"No. Peyton, come on, this is the perfect costume," Irene does a little jig. "It doesn't show any skin and it isn't too girly. Plus, you can go around telling people about endangered cat species."
I think about this for a second. "Hey. Maybe I can raise awareness for the Amur Leopards. It's the most endangered species in the world, you know. There's only forty of them left."
"Yeah! It's like feminism and animal awareness all wrapped up in one costume."
Then, within minutes, I'm heading towards to school with a black tail and cat years. Although, no matter how much Irene begs me, I refuse to the carry the whip.
Unsurprisingly, the costume gets me a lot of stares. There are plenty of Catwomans and other revealing costumes throughout the school, but still, I seem to get the most attention. And not in the good way. The only two boys who don't gawk at my chest all day are Archer and Sebastian.
Actually, Sebastian's stopped talking to me ever since I made fun of his Aquaman costume.Archer dresses up as his Sherlock Holmes costume again. Melody refuses to dress up, saying that she's her own hero. And besides one or two people, there aren't any Batman costumes.
Gym is torture since Derek wouldn't stop making fun of me. I kicked a football in his face but that just landed me a detention. In biology, though, the teacher let me make a three minute speech on the importance of saving endangered animals.
Overall, the cat costume caused more trouble than it was worth. I take it out as soon as the school day ends.
"You should've kept on the cat ears," Archer tells me, parking the car. "It really suits you."
"Shut up." I mutter.
His grin only becomes wider.
In front the pet shop, Jake, Irene and Andrew wait for us. I promised Andrew and Irene that if they wouldn't do anything drastic while I'm in school, Archer would give them tattoos. Luckily for me, Archer was more than happy to comply.
I glance at Archer's shoulder again. His ripped jacket shows off his realistic tattoo. The shading and coloring makes it seem like his skin has ripped apart. Instead of muscle, though, there's an image of a beach during nighttime inside it. I have no idea where he got the image from since it looks nothing like the one behind our houses.
Archer turns to look at me. I turn my head towards the window.
"What'd you do to your tail?" Irene gasps as soon as I step out of the car.
"People kept yanking on it," I explain, blushing at the memory. "So I just cut it off."
"But I was going to modify it for Wenesday," Irene sputters, holding the tail as if it's her dead pet or something. "I can't do that if you cut of the most important part."
"I already have a costume for Wenesday."
"You do? What is it?" Irene puts her hand down. We ignore the boys, who share a knowing look between themselves.
"I'm going as my Halloween costume of the Salmon-Crested Cocktail. Unfortunately, I couldn't teach about it enough to children on Halloween and most of them just cared about the candy. So I'm taking my lectures to a bigger and better audience."
"Peyton, you can't do that! All of my hard work will have gone to waste!"
"It's too late. I've already made the flyers."
Irene cries out exasperatedly.
"You can make my homecoming dress."
This seems to brighten her mood. "I can?"
"You can."
"Okay!" She chirps and claps her hands together. Her bad mood is completely gone. "Now that's settled, let's go get tattoos. Archer, Jake and Andrew, follow me. I already have a design. It's not really a set thing, but rather an idea..."
Her voice fades away as Jake and Andrew drag her in the distance. Archer, still standing by me, puts his hands in his pockets. Once my friends are out of hearing range, Archer steps in front of me. There's a coy smile to his face that makes me want to blush.
"What?"
"Animal day?"
"Yeah." This time I do blush.
"Whose idea was that?"
"Mine," My heart is thudding in my chest and I don't know why. "So what?"
"Nothing. I'm just starting to see why you joined the club, that's all. Now you can tell everybody how about how six hundred Salman-Colored Cocktails die each year," He shrugs, walking backwards, hands still in his pockets.
I stare at him, dumbfounded. "You remembered?"
"Why wouldn't I?" He smiles at my expression. "Later, Peyton."
A surge of warmth fills me up as I watch him walk away. Still in disbelief, I stumble into my pet shop. Nobody remembers my facts or my lectures. Irene, Jake and Andrew try to but they forgot half of the stuff I say. Even my parents don't care to listen, even though they're the ones I lecture to the most.
I have a sudden urge to hug something.
I smash that feeling when I sign up. My smile is completely gone by the time I put on my nametag. I look around for other people. Besides, a couple of teenagers, nobody else is here. In the office, Peter and my other coworker, Leonardo, talk to each other. Once Peter spots me, he waves me over. I nod and walk over.
"Going somewhere?" I ask, eyeing their rain jackets.
"Leonardo and I are going out to check out a call from a man who claims he found a litter of homeless puppies by the zoo," Peter tells me. "I just wanted to warn you that a man named Susan Smith is going to come in to pick up Harper, who he adopted last week. You watched me fill out enough forms to know the process works, yes?"
"Yeah. The man's name is Susan Smith?"
"Yes, don't make fun of it. He's very sensitive," For a second, Peter's lips twitches. "You'll be alone for an hour. Is that alright?"
I nod.
"Okay," Peter hands me a folder and his office keys. "Don't be afraid to call if you need anything."
Even though I said I understood, Peter goes through the adoption process again and even hands out a paper filled with instructions on what I need to check. After Peter and Leonardo leave, the group of teenagers sign out with three bags filled with cat food. Soon, I'm the only left in the shop. I choose this time to do my homework.
Around five o'clock, the bells ring.
Automatically, my eyes dart to the door. A somewhat overweight, white man in a gray suit enters the shop with a plain yellow file under his elbow. Even though his back is turned towards me, I can tell he's examining the shop - for what, I don't know.
Then, he turns around.
I suck in a breath. There's a scar that reaches from his left ear to the top of his lip and a cold gleam to his blue eyes that sends a chill down my spine. But I don't like to judge, so I plaster a smile on my face and say, "Hello, there. Are you looking or is there something I can help you with?"
"A little of both, if you know what I mean," His chuckle deep and rough. I don't laugh back. "My name is Smith. I'm here to adopt a pitbull."
I exhale. "Harper?"
"Yeah." Susan Smith's eyes roam my face greedily.
"I'll need to see your identification and proof of adoption, please."
He hands my papers confidentially, as if he's done this all before. I compare his papers with the ones Peter's laid out for me. They all seem to be in order. I'm about to tell him the good news, only to see his gaze isn't directed at my face. Instead, his eyes roam around my body, pausing at certain areas.
I clear my throat to get his attention.
"Are you alone in here?" Smith asks, eyes boring into my face.
"No. My manager is in his office, in a meeting and my coworker is outside taking a break," My voice, thankfully, remains cool and steady when I tell the lie. "Now, if you want to see your dog, follow me."
Harper's a two-year old brown and black pitbull that came to the shelter three months ago. His previous owners gave him back after they had their first baby, saying that two children was too much to handle. Sweet and cuddly, Harper barks loudly when I approach him.
Just when I bend down to unlock his cage, somebody touches my lower back. I stand up straight, ignoring Harper's eager barking. Smith watches me innocently, a perverted smirk on his lips.
"Take a step back, please," I say coolly.
He takes a step back, but doesn't stop that awful grin. After making sure that he's a respectable distance away from me, I unlock Harper's cage. He jumps towards me, licking my fingers. I laugh and run my fingers over his head. Then, I attach a collar to his leach and take him out.
I'm not as comfortable leaving Harper with a man like Smith, but how he treats women is no indication of how treats animals, so I have no right to judge him. Still, I make sure to hurry as I give him his supplies.
For a second, while I'm typing his information in the computer, I could've sworn he took a picture of me, but when I look over, he's playing with the dog.
Shivers run down my spine.
I'll have a chat with Peter later.
"Have fun. When my manager gets out, I'll make sure he calls you," I tell Smith, who's still watching me with an intent expression. I take my gaze elsewhere. "Bye Harper!"
Harper barks in response and then, they're gone.
I write down Smith's license plate on a notepad, just in case. Besides that, however, the rest of my day goes by uneventful. Peter and Leo return right before the clock hits six and dismiss. I meet up with my friends afterwards.
When I see them, Irene's got a tattoo of sketches of fashion models around her forearm and Andrew has a picture of a bloody skull on his wrist.
"Impressive," I can't help but say. "How long did it take you to learn that?"
"Many years," Archer looks exhausted, but pleased.
If it weren't for the Harper incident, I'd consider it a good day. Despite all the stress-freeness I've been feeling, my head starts to ache again. I try not to show it, since I'm supposed to be helping Archer and dad with the tree house later. But by the time Archer drops Irene and the others off, I can barely keep my eyes open.
"You might be sick," Archer warns as he parks in my driveway. "Take a nap or something."
"Yeah," I mutter. "I'll do that."
I plan to go straight upstairs and fall asleep. Of course, my plain fails. Mom spots just as I grab my pajamas. After she calls my name two times, I have to go downstairs and greet her. She crosses my arms when she sees me.
"Where do you think you're going? I thought you were going to Archer's house to help him with the treehouse they're building."
"I have a headache."
"You always have a headache."
"I know. Maybe I should go to the doctor."
Mom rolls her eyes. "Enough excuses, Peyton. I'm tired of seeing you stay inside in your bedroom when you have perfectly good friends waiting for you outside."
"I'm not making excuses," I blink slowly. "And I'm telling you, these headaches can't be healthy. There are plenty of reasons why I shouldn't go to the doctor. One, there's nothing harmful going on, so it can't be stress. Two -"
Mom puts a finger up. "I don't care. Go outside and communicate with your friends. Don't you ever think how bad it looks when you keep refusing to hang out with Archer? Think about how he must feel when you keep avoiding him all the time."
"Archer's the one-"
"Peyton, enough. If your head hurts that bad, get an aspirin. But you're going outside to help one way or the other."
I have to swallow twice in order not to scream back at her. With a frozen silence, I clench my fists and walk outside slowly, without so much as a glance at my mom.
My vision blurs as I storm towards the woods behind Archer's house. The wind keeps pushing me sideways and sometimes, I nearly trip. When I make it to the tree that dad and Mr. Raine are planning to use, nobody's there. Of course.
Maybe I should just hide behind a tree and scream. Maybe if I'm lucky enough, Lucky will come and notice me.
I'm about to throw a rock at something when I notice a toolbox at the bottom of a large tree. Take me upstairs, reads the note taped to it. I look up at the tree. Branches have been cut off in order to make room for the tree house. A wooden ladder goes from the bottom to the top of the oak tree.
Why not? I think furiously, grabbing the toolbox. I might as well do something useful.
With one hand, I grab ahold of the toolbox and with the other, I use to help my way up the ladder. The wind is strong today. It shakes the ladder as I walk up, but I barely any attention to it. Once I reach the top, I set the toolbox besides me and sit on my knees.
My anger almost evaporates as I notice the view.
It's quite nice. You can see the houses, the lawns, the porches, the backyards and miles into the ocean just from this height. I even spot a lighthouse that I didn't know exited all the way on the other side of the beach. A few boats lie in the middle of the ocean, swaying in the breeze.
I stay in there until the night sky turns black. It isn't until a crash comes from behind me that I blink back to reality. When I turn around, the ladder is gone.
My heart stutters.
I reach into my pocket for my phone, only to realize that I don't have it.
"Shit," I whisper. Trembling, I turn my head so that I'm looking downwards. The height is taller than I remembered. If I tried to jump and I didn't hit any of the branches on my way, I'd still break an arm or leg - or both - on the way down. Shit.
I'm trying to come with a list of things that I should do when a burst of barking interrupts me.
I'm saved.
Buster hops out of the Raine house. Immediately, he runs to the ocean, splashing in the soft tides and letting out howls. After him, however, nobody else comes outside. So, it's just Buster and I. I doubt he can hear, but I try anyways.
"Buster!"
There's no response. I try a couple more times, but he shows no signs of hearing my calls. I'm about to give up when the wind dies down. Silence fills the air.
"BUSTER!" My voice nearly turns sore from how much I scream.
Finally, the husky's head whips around. He whines for a bit, searching for the noise. I yell his name three more times and then, he notices me. Buster bounds up to the tree and gets on his hind paws to greet me.
I yell for him to get Archer. Even though he can't understand, I think he recognize Archer's house, because he runs back to the house and starts whining at the door.
What a sweetheart.
After a minute of waiting in the chilly air, the door swings open. Archer steps out.
He's wearing his pajamas - a t-shirt with paint stains all over it and sweatpants. He steps aside to let Buster though, but the dog refuses to come in. It's only when Buster runs over to the tree that I'm standing that Archer notices me.
I wave.
For a moment, he stares in disbelief. Then, I think he rolls his eyes, Archer takes slips on his sandals and walks over to the tree. I adjust my position to keep my eyes on him. He stops at the base of the tree and cups his hands over his mouth.
"What the hell are you doing up there?"
"I'm stuck!" I yell, just in case he doesn't understand. "Help!"
Archer holds out his arm. "Jump!"
"Are you insane?" I scream over the howling wind. "Go get the ladder!"
I point to the ladder.
Archer looks over. I wait impatiently as he sets it up. My hands are numb by the time I climb down. I stumble at the last few steps, but Archer grabs my waist before I fall. Shivering, I lean against the tree, thankful to be on solid ground again.
"How long were you up there?" Archer demands, running a hand through his messy brown hair. A few strands fall in front of his face. The circles under his make him look tired, but his gray eyes are bright.
"I don't know. My mom wouldn't let me take a nap so I came here."
"That was half an hour ago."
"Really?"
He looks like he's trying not to smile. "Really."
"Oh," I scrunch up my nose. "Uh, well, thanks for getting me. I'll just - uh -"
"Your parents left. I think they thought you were with me," Archer tells me. Sure enough, when we reach the house the doors are locked. He turns to me. "I was just about to take a nap as well. Why don't you just come and join me?"
The obvious thing for Peyton to do in this situation is to refuse. But I'm tired of Peyton and everything else. I just want to sleep. So, I walk with Archer to his house. He lies down on one sofa while I lie down on the other. Buster sleeps on the floor besides me. With a blanket over me and the soothing heat of the fireplace, I fall asleep in seconds.
- () -
Is it too late for me to say Happy New Year?
Probably.
Oh well. My Wattpad new year's resolution is to update faster and (hopefully) upload a brand new book! At least I've got plenty of time to do it. Next chapter is Homecoming! Yay?! And there's a lot of things in this chapter that are going to play later on. :D
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Dedication goes to channelpink20 for her amazing comments. And to everybody who continues to vote on every chapter, I can't thank you enough!
Thanks for reading!
QotC: Who's your favorite character? Least favorite character? And what do you think about Peyton?