Categories > Celebrities > Green Day > Judge's Daughter
Catcher in the Rye
0 reviews"Well, if I wasn't already intrigued by this green eyed boy, then this only gave me another reason to be."
1Original
Roselain’s POV
As soon as the bell rang, my mind went on autopilot, shoving my notebook inside my bag as quickly as possible. I pushed through the doorway, starting down the hall when a hand grabbed my elbow. I instinctively jerked away, wheeling to face the stranger.
“Look, I don’t know who the fu- Oh,” I gasped, greeted with the familiar crooked smile of the guy who called himself Billie.
“Oh,” the boy repeated with a laugh. “I just wanted to apologize for that back there.”
“But it didn’t have anything to do with you…?” I eyed him suspiciously.
“I know, but that was just a shitty thing to say, and if it makes you feel any better, the dick in front of me said it looks like someone took a hammer to my teeth.” He laughed, flashing another grin, only this time his slightly crooked top row of teeth became more apparent. “I tried to introduce myself before, but my name’s Billie.”
“I know, I’m sorry about earlier. As you can tell I don’t really handle social situations very well… My name’s Roselain, but you can call me Roz,” I coughed, rubbing my arm nervously.
“Roz, I like that,” he said with a smile, which I awkwardly returned.
"Thanks..." I mumbled shyly, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Fuck!" I hissed, recoiling as something sliced my fingertip open.
"You alright?"
"Yeah, yeah... I forgot I had my schedule in my pocket, fucking papercut," I murmured, pulling out the now blood streaked piece of paper. "Hey, actually, if you don't mind, can you show me to my next class? I don't want another shitty incident like this."
"Yeah, not a problem. Here, let me just see what you've got," he mumbled, leaning in close to me, squinting at the paper. Due to proximity I could smell the stench of pot and some kind of cologne, but it wasn't over powering or gross, it was actually a kind of nice balance. "Ah, shit, Mr. Felton? That guys the biggest dickhead on campus, you're gonna wanna get out of his class as soon as possible."
"Why? What'd he do?" I questioned and he began walking away, motioning for me to follow.
"Look, maybe I'm not the best student, I've got a lot of grey areas and tend to not give a fuck about most subjects, but I've got a lot of shit stored up here," he said, drumming his fingers against temple. "Well, this asshole's got the audacity to tell me that I'm not going to amount to anything because I don't want to read some shitty, overrated book about some whiny asshole that everyone wants to call poetic and misunderstood."
"Shot in the dark here, but are you talking about Catcher in the Rye?"
"Yeah! Fuck that book, man," he spat, shoving through the doors and leading us outside. My eyes were not prepared for that kind of light shock, so I kept my head ducked down and held a perpetual squint.
"You know, it's actually not half that bad. Holden's an annoying little shit, but if you think about it, he's got reason to be." He shook his head at my statement, heading in the direction of a concrete wall.
"I haven't read it. Refuse to. My friend Mike's talked me up and fucking down about how great it is, but I won't hear it, man. Especially after Felton made such a big deal about it."
"Well, I don't blame you... he sounds like a dick," I murmured, watching as Billie bounded a few steps ahead, hopping up to sit on the wall. He patted the spot beside him as he pulled out a carton of cigarettes and placed one between his chapped lips. I dropped my bag on the ground, swinging myself up on the wall beside him. He flipped the carton open toward me and I slid one out, placing it behind my ear. He cocked an eyebrow at me, holding his lighter up questionably. I shook my head.
"Nah, I cherish these. Dad hates when I smoke, so save them for a rainy day, y'know?" He nodded, cupping his hand around his cigarette and lighting it. He took a long drag, squinting as the smoke tore through his lungs before seeping back out through the corner of his mouth.
"You know, you gotta be careful around Felton, though. See, to guys he's just a raging asshole, but to girls like you, that's a different story," he mumbled, a thoughtful crease forming between his brows as he stared off at the passing cars.
"What do you mean?"
"You're pretty, pretty girls always get harassed by him. He thinks he's fucking casanova, gonna sweep girls off their feet with his poetry and creepy ass pickup lines. But I guess he's got this intimidating sense about him, so girls never report the shit he does. So seriously, get out of that class as soon as possible," he warned, giving me a sideways glance, the cigarette lolling between his lips as he studied my face.
I stared at him blankly, attempting to register what he had just said. Should I feel worried for my safety in this upcoming class? I mean, I've already seen what the majority of girls look like here, and if that's what Felton's after, then I'm more than safe. Then there’s also the fact that this kid thinks I’m pretty, but I guess that’s another story. He continued staring at me, eyes slowly roaming over my face. I felt a slight blush creeping over my cheeks and I turned away, rolling my eyes at my body's stupid reactions.
"I think I'll be alright..." I whispered, nervously pushing a hand back through my hair. "Speaking of class though, shouldn't we be headed that way?"
"Nah, I'm doing you a favor. A little skipping never hurt anybody; besides, you're new. You have a two week window to get by with anything you want. Being the judge's daughter kinda helps that too." I whipped my head back in his direction and frowned.
"I really can't afford to skip right now, if word gets back to my dad-"
"I know, I know, you're a good kid. Don't let a loser like me be a bad influence, alright? Remember, I'm not gonna amount to anything," he said with a chuckle and a wink. He peered at me, the sunlight cutting through his already impossibly green eyes, setting them on fire. They didn't even look real, like some ethereal cosmic color, blanketed under pretty black lashes that would put any girl to shame. Smoke rings parted his full pink lips, as he took another drag from his cigarette, flicking off the ashes with a steady, veiny hand.
I'd been too nervous earlier to notice just how pretty this guy was, but after seeing him out in the sun, an auburn tent glinting through his brown hair as it curled around his face, I almost wanted to take up his offer on skipping just so I could sit an admire his features.
Aesthetically pleasing people: a photographer's biggest weakness.
"Maybe another time, yeah? Preferably when it isn't my first ever day of school," I laughed, watching as he rolled his eyes with a grin. I hopped off the wall, adjusting my jacket as I slung my backpack over my shoulder. Glancing back up in hope for some direction only resulted in being caught in his gaze yet again. A smirk played on his lips, eyes searing holes through my mind as he looked down at me.
"Well, your class is literally right through those doors, first door on the right," he said nodding his head in the general direction. I smiled and gave a small wave, hiking toward class.
"Hey, Roz, wait," he called out from behind me. I turned around to see him flicking his cigarette to the ground as he hopped off the wall and stepped on it. He stretched, his shirt raising to reveal what looked like something written in pen on his hip. "So, my friends and I are gonna go drink at the tracks tonight, maybe jam at a friend's house afterwards. You're more than welcome to come if you'd like."
I cocked my head to the side, examining him as he cupped a hand over his eyes in hopes of not being totally blinded by the August sun. I pegged him as the kind of guy I could probably drink with and feel pretty safe. Maybe it's a bit early to make those kind of judgments, but I can usually tell if someone's a creep. He hadn't made any weird passes and had actually tried to convince me to skip class just to avoid Felton, so he couldn't be that bad. I gave a subtle nod, moving on to the next part of his statement.
"Jam? You play music?" I asked, taking a step closer to him. He made a face, scratching the back of his head and giving a bit of a shrug.
"Yeah, we uh, we got a band together a few months ago, we're not that amazing or anything, but with the right amount of booze, even the gritty shit sounds alright," he flashed a cheeky grin, burrowing his hands in his pockets.
Well, if I wasn't already intrigued by this green eyed boy, then this only gave me another reason to be. I'd always loved sneaking off to shows when I was younger and photographing the local bands; the singers screaming in people's faces, guitarists falling into the drum sets. Sweat, tension, and electricity setting the room on fire, it's all fucking magical. Of course, they always get pissy about it like elitist little shits, thinking they should be paid to have pictures taken. So I've always longed to find a band that actually didn't mind being photographed, or having some weird ass girl climbing around on stage and crawling underneath them and getting in their faces to get intense enough shots to capture the energy. He tilted his head to the side as if he were examining me, maybe half expecting me to decline?
"Yeah... yeah, sure. I'll come," I said, smiling reassuringly. The corner of his mouth twisted into a grin.
"Alright, well, just meet me here after school. We'll give you a ride."
"Sounds good," I sang with a nod as I headed back toward the building. I threw one last glance over my shoulder, watching as the green eyed boy swung himself back up on the wall.
"Better hurry, Blondie, don't be late for class," he called with a smirk, waving me away with his hand. I rolled my eyes at the nickname, pushing through the school doors.
________________
Authors Note:
Chapter three is going to be so much fun. I’ve not written yet but I have plans for it and should have it posted hopefully by this time next week, if not sooner.
I’ve got so many plans for this story, I’m fuckin’ excited, man.
Also, the chapters will start getting longer soon.
Again, feedback and subscriptions are greatly appreciated!
xo,
Echo
As soon as the bell rang, my mind went on autopilot, shoving my notebook inside my bag as quickly as possible. I pushed through the doorway, starting down the hall when a hand grabbed my elbow. I instinctively jerked away, wheeling to face the stranger.
“Look, I don’t know who the fu- Oh,” I gasped, greeted with the familiar crooked smile of the guy who called himself Billie.
“Oh,” the boy repeated with a laugh. “I just wanted to apologize for that back there.”
“But it didn’t have anything to do with you…?” I eyed him suspiciously.
“I know, but that was just a shitty thing to say, and if it makes you feel any better, the dick in front of me said it looks like someone took a hammer to my teeth.” He laughed, flashing another grin, only this time his slightly crooked top row of teeth became more apparent. “I tried to introduce myself before, but my name’s Billie.”
“I know, I’m sorry about earlier. As you can tell I don’t really handle social situations very well… My name’s Roselain, but you can call me Roz,” I coughed, rubbing my arm nervously.
“Roz, I like that,” he said with a smile, which I awkwardly returned.
"Thanks..." I mumbled shyly, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Fuck!" I hissed, recoiling as something sliced my fingertip open.
"You alright?"
"Yeah, yeah... I forgot I had my schedule in my pocket, fucking papercut," I murmured, pulling out the now blood streaked piece of paper. "Hey, actually, if you don't mind, can you show me to my next class? I don't want another shitty incident like this."
"Yeah, not a problem. Here, let me just see what you've got," he mumbled, leaning in close to me, squinting at the paper. Due to proximity I could smell the stench of pot and some kind of cologne, but it wasn't over powering or gross, it was actually a kind of nice balance. "Ah, shit, Mr. Felton? That guys the biggest dickhead on campus, you're gonna wanna get out of his class as soon as possible."
"Why? What'd he do?" I questioned and he began walking away, motioning for me to follow.
"Look, maybe I'm not the best student, I've got a lot of grey areas and tend to not give a fuck about most subjects, but I've got a lot of shit stored up here," he said, drumming his fingers against temple. "Well, this asshole's got the audacity to tell me that I'm not going to amount to anything because I don't want to read some shitty, overrated book about some whiny asshole that everyone wants to call poetic and misunderstood."
"Shot in the dark here, but are you talking about Catcher in the Rye?"
"Yeah! Fuck that book, man," he spat, shoving through the doors and leading us outside. My eyes were not prepared for that kind of light shock, so I kept my head ducked down and held a perpetual squint.
"You know, it's actually not half that bad. Holden's an annoying little shit, but if you think about it, he's got reason to be." He shook his head at my statement, heading in the direction of a concrete wall.
"I haven't read it. Refuse to. My friend Mike's talked me up and fucking down about how great it is, but I won't hear it, man. Especially after Felton made such a big deal about it."
"Well, I don't blame you... he sounds like a dick," I murmured, watching as Billie bounded a few steps ahead, hopping up to sit on the wall. He patted the spot beside him as he pulled out a carton of cigarettes and placed one between his chapped lips. I dropped my bag on the ground, swinging myself up on the wall beside him. He flipped the carton open toward me and I slid one out, placing it behind my ear. He cocked an eyebrow at me, holding his lighter up questionably. I shook my head.
"Nah, I cherish these. Dad hates when I smoke, so save them for a rainy day, y'know?" He nodded, cupping his hand around his cigarette and lighting it. He took a long drag, squinting as the smoke tore through his lungs before seeping back out through the corner of his mouth.
"You know, you gotta be careful around Felton, though. See, to guys he's just a raging asshole, but to girls like you, that's a different story," he mumbled, a thoughtful crease forming between his brows as he stared off at the passing cars.
"What do you mean?"
"You're pretty, pretty girls always get harassed by him. He thinks he's fucking casanova, gonna sweep girls off their feet with his poetry and creepy ass pickup lines. But I guess he's got this intimidating sense about him, so girls never report the shit he does. So seriously, get out of that class as soon as possible," he warned, giving me a sideways glance, the cigarette lolling between his lips as he studied my face.
I stared at him blankly, attempting to register what he had just said. Should I feel worried for my safety in this upcoming class? I mean, I've already seen what the majority of girls look like here, and if that's what Felton's after, then I'm more than safe. Then there’s also the fact that this kid thinks I’m pretty, but I guess that’s another story. He continued staring at me, eyes slowly roaming over my face. I felt a slight blush creeping over my cheeks and I turned away, rolling my eyes at my body's stupid reactions.
"I think I'll be alright..." I whispered, nervously pushing a hand back through my hair. "Speaking of class though, shouldn't we be headed that way?"
"Nah, I'm doing you a favor. A little skipping never hurt anybody; besides, you're new. You have a two week window to get by with anything you want. Being the judge's daughter kinda helps that too." I whipped my head back in his direction and frowned.
"I really can't afford to skip right now, if word gets back to my dad-"
"I know, I know, you're a good kid. Don't let a loser like me be a bad influence, alright? Remember, I'm not gonna amount to anything," he said with a chuckle and a wink. He peered at me, the sunlight cutting through his already impossibly green eyes, setting them on fire. They didn't even look real, like some ethereal cosmic color, blanketed under pretty black lashes that would put any girl to shame. Smoke rings parted his full pink lips, as he took another drag from his cigarette, flicking off the ashes with a steady, veiny hand.
I'd been too nervous earlier to notice just how pretty this guy was, but after seeing him out in the sun, an auburn tent glinting through his brown hair as it curled around his face, I almost wanted to take up his offer on skipping just so I could sit an admire his features.
Aesthetically pleasing people: a photographer's biggest weakness.
"Maybe another time, yeah? Preferably when it isn't my first ever day of school," I laughed, watching as he rolled his eyes with a grin. I hopped off the wall, adjusting my jacket as I slung my backpack over my shoulder. Glancing back up in hope for some direction only resulted in being caught in his gaze yet again. A smirk played on his lips, eyes searing holes through my mind as he looked down at me.
"Well, your class is literally right through those doors, first door on the right," he said nodding his head in the general direction. I smiled and gave a small wave, hiking toward class.
"Hey, Roz, wait," he called out from behind me. I turned around to see him flicking his cigarette to the ground as he hopped off the wall and stepped on it. He stretched, his shirt raising to reveal what looked like something written in pen on his hip. "So, my friends and I are gonna go drink at the tracks tonight, maybe jam at a friend's house afterwards. You're more than welcome to come if you'd like."
I cocked my head to the side, examining him as he cupped a hand over his eyes in hopes of not being totally blinded by the August sun. I pegged him as the kind of guy I could probably drink with and feel pretty safe. Maybe it's a bit early to make those kind of judgments, but I can usually tell if someone's a creep. He hadn't made any weird passes and had actually tried to convince me to skip class just to avoid Felton, so he couldn't be that bad. I gave a subtle nod, moving on to the next part of his statement.
"Jam? You play music?" I asked, taking a step closer to him. He made a face, scratching the back of his head and giving a bit of a shrug.
"Yeah, we uh, we got a band together a few months ago, we're not that amazing or anything, but with the right amount of booze, even the gritty shit sounds alright," he flashed a cheeky grin, burrowing his hands in his pockets.
Well, if I wasn't already intrigued by this green eyed boy, then this only gave me another reason to be. I'd always loved sneaking off to shows when I was younger and photographing the local bands; the singers screaming in people's faces, guitarists falling into the drum sets. Sweat, tension, and electricity setting the room on fire, it's all fucking magical. Of course, they always get pissy about it like elitist little shits, thinking they should be paid to have pictures taken. So I've always longed to find a band that actually didn't mind being photographed, or having some weird ass girl climbing around on stage and crawling underneath them and getting in their faces to get intense enough shots to capture the energy. He tilted his head to the side as if he were examining me, maybe half expecting me to decline?
"Yeah... yeah, sure. I'll come," I said, smiling reassuringly. The corner of his mouth twisted into a grin.
"Alright, well, just meet me here after school. We'll give you a ride."
"Sounds good," I sang with a nod as I headed back toward the building. I threw one last glance over my shoulder, watching as the green eyed boy swung himself back up on the wall.
"Better hurry, Blondie, don't be late for class," he called with a smirk, waving me away with his hand. I rolled my eyes at the nickname, pushing through the school doors.
________________
Authors Note:
Chapter three is going to be so much fun. I’ve not written yet but I have plans for it and should have it posted hopefully by this time next week, if not sooner.
I’ve got so many plans for this story, I’m fuckin’ excited, man.
Also, the chapters will start getting longer soon.
Again, feedback and subscriptions are greatly appreciated!
xo,
Echo
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