Novels2Search
Dogs, Gods, and Dyslexic Editors
Chapter 1: My Editor Strongly Disapproves. Not That She Can Stop Me.

Chapter 1: My Editor Strongly Disapproves. Not That She Can Stop Me.

Our story begins on the planet Earth. You know, that blue speck on the outer arm of- what's that you say? Not specific enough for you? Very well. Our story begins on the planet Earth. Specifically in the northern hemisphere of the continent of North America in a state called Washington in a town called Northgate. Is that better? The town of Northgate had many attractions, such as its Bozo the Clown Museum famous for exactly 3.5 miles. And who could forget about Johnson's Grill Masters, who made the best burgers until one crossed the border into the neighboring town of Quincy? On second thought, Northgate was kind of a dump. The town existed only because it was located in the middle of a dense forest that interconnected with multiple streams, giving it a lively lumber and fishing business that put it on the map. And the abundance of tacos that the town somehow had.

        Apart from this, though, Northgate was a thriving community. Plenty of businesses were springing up and the town had even recently acquired the rights to build a second High School. Many argued that this overdue because the first was built on an ancient Indian Burial Ground but no one had concrete evidence apart from nightmares about buffalo hunts and the occasional possession to dance to honor the ancestors. But this is where our story truly begins. Northgate High School, home of the fighting Platypus...platapi...platapodes...? Whatever. Our story continues to begin in the two story facility in the lunchroom where a majority of the children were eating with their designated cliques. Nerds were with Nerds, Geeks were with Geeks, Attack Helicopters were with Attack Helicopters- as nature intended. 

        Yet out of these groups there sat a single student by the north window alone- surprise, surprise. This student was a girl with short, messy black hair, light blue eyes, and pale skin. She wore a gray shirt underneath a black leather jacket that had some hipster band patch on it, stonewashed jeans with impractical holes in the knees, and black combat boots that she kept immaculately shined. She had a face that upon seeing, you automatically thought, 'I wish punching a person was legal.' And this desire only intensified when one looked at the cheeky smirk she always wore. It was the kind that screamed, "My tragic backstory definitely doesn't compensate for my ego."

        The girl was violently scribbling barely discernible words into a white notebook which she slapped closed before you got close enough to read it. She looked up at you with the aforementioned cheeky grin as she packed her things into her tan canvas bag- which sported a pin of a potato and another that said, 'Save the Corgi'. "Hi, there." She said as she climbed to her feet and began walking around the lunchroom, never looking away from you. "I'm Alin. Just Alin, for now, and I thought you should know, I am not the hero of this story," She paused to step over a banana peel before continuing.

        "So you might be wondering, 'Why is it talking to me?' Or, 'Why does it think I care?' And, my personal favorite, 'Did I forget to take out my croissants?!' By the way, you should check on those, they burn super easily." She stopped, tapping her chin. "Where was I going with this? Oh, right. Not the hero." She lightly chuckled. "No, no, but he is!" She said, pointing with her thumb to a boy across from her new position. He sat with a sizable group of friends who, like him, wore the football Letterman jackets of their school for the upcoming pep rally. He was tall with skin the color of caramel and black hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail to reveal the under-shave he sported. His brown eyes glittered as he laughed at a joke one of his friends told, the mood quickly spreading to the other players as they joined in. 

        "That is one Joseph Felix Varran. He is, as I'm sure you've figured out, the school football captain, track star, baseball pitcher, yearbook coordinator," she paused when Joseph stood up to demonstrate a winning throw with an apple. It flew across the room at Alin's face. She held up a hand, catching it centimeters from her nose, while the force behind it caused a small puff of wing that shifted her uneven bangs. "and enemy to pomaceous fruits everywhere." She finished as she took a bite of it. Joseph jogged towards her with a look of concern on his face. "Nice catch!" He complimented.

        "I bet you say that to all the girls you nearly hit with apples," Alin said with a smile as she took another bite.

        "Ah, man, I'm sorry. That was... dumb. I wasn't looking where I was throwing-"

        "Kind of odd considering you're QB and all." Alin said as she pointed to the patch on his shoulder signifying his position. She gave a shrug of indifference. "It's cool. I got free lunch, so no hard feelings." 

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        Joseph gave a small laugh of relief as he said, "Thanks. I'm Joseph." He held out a hand.

        "Alin," Alin replied with a smile that danced along the lines of 'friendly' and 'malevolent'. Joseph didn't seem to notice though. He did think Alin's hand was surprisingly calloused for a girl who looked like she didn't work all that often. He dropped his hand as he asked, "Ar- um... are you new here?"

        "No. We have the same Biology class." Alin replied, lying smoothly. 

        "Oh. Okay. I'm sorry, I don't really pay attention to my surroundings- I mean, I almost hit you with an apple so-"

        "Nah, it's fine. I don't speak up too often. But you should probably get back to your friends."

        "Right. I'm sorry, again. Maybe I can make it up to you sometime." He said with a smile. 

        "Sure!" Alin said. As Joseph went back to his table she moved away from the lunchroom, her smile melting into an amused smirk. "Why is it always Biology that works? I tried it with Intermediate French once, and the kid knew I was lying right away. Anyway, that's Joseph. What a dream. Any girl would be lucky to have such a sweet, considerate guy." She started to leave the lunchroom  but not before she saw a girl  glaring at her. "And wouldn't you know, there's said girl." Alin muttered as she crossed the room.

        The girl was beautiful, a mathematically impossible 15 out of 10. She had gorgeous blonde hair the color of melted gold that fell around her bright green eyes and tanned skin. "Now, there's nothing wrong with Heather- I mean, apart from the fact she holds onto Joseph like a possessed crab crossbred with superglue- I hear she's a very nice girl once you get to know her. But she's hm... how do I put this delicately?" As she came closer, Alin's gaze moved over the muscles that were prominent even under her clothes, from her chiseled abdomen, to her rippling thighs that could probably crush a watermelon-or a man's head- between them with ease.

        "Ah! That's it! She's more chiseled than a Michelangelo." Alin finished before Heather towered over her. She glared down at the considerably shorter girl with her mouth set in a grimace that somehow made her more attractive. In a sexy 'I'm about to rip out your heart and show it to you' kind of way. Alin looked the girl up and down once more as she said, "I am either a very lucky or very doomed girl right now." 

        "What?" Heather asked.

        "Let me put it this way," Alin said as she cleared her throat. She tilted her head at Heather and raised an eyebrow suggestively. "If looks could kill, you'd be the death of me," She threw in a wink that, while smoother than most, sent a decidedly unpleasant shiver up Heather's spine. She was, as most people would be, extremely confused that a short girl who looked more at home in a Goth section was flirting with her.

        "Did... did you just flirt with me?" Heather asked.

        "No." Alin answered, her face completely composed once more.

        "I saw you talking to Joseph." Heather said, her anger coming back.

        "I was just asking a few questions for a survey. I actually have a different one I was hoping you could help me with." Alin said as she took out a note book and pen. 

        "Um... okay?" Heather said.

        "So, what's your name?" Alin asked.

        "Heather Bridget Payne."

        "Phone number?" Alin asked. Heather stared at the girl. "For the purpose of calling with any other questions." Alin said. Heather hesitantly gave her the information. "Now, are you free on Saturday? And do you prefer romantic candlelight or seafood?" Alin asked with another wink.  Heather, now positive the girl was flirting with her and very tired of interacting with her, left to go sit with her friends and never discuss it again. Alin closed the notebook, faced you and continued walking.

        "Like I was saying, Heather isn't necessarily a bad person, just easily flustered. But, this isn't about Heather. Or me. This is about Joseph. See, today's his birthday. He'll be getting a car, some time with Heather, and the news that he got his dream scholarship to his university of choice." Alin gave a dreamy sort of sigh before her smirk became a grin that could've split her face in two if it was any wider. 

        "Lets have some fun with this."

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