Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > No Matter What They Say, Don't Believe A Word
I awoke in a strange room filled with posters of swimsuit models. I tried to sit up but searing pain went down my back. I leaned against the headboard. Where the hell am I? The door to the room creaked open and a girl came in.
"Hey! You're awake. Um...Pete called your parents. They'll be here soon. I'm Sami by the way. Pete's sister. I've heard a lot about you. He says you're a great soccer player," she smiled kindly.
I smiled back but was thoroughly confused. Pete's house? Why am I at Pete's house? And since when does he think I'm a 'great soccer player'?
"Well, I gotta leave you now...Pete will come get you once your parents are here."
I nodded slowly as she left. My memory was coming back now. The soccer game...the ball hitting my face...me falling hard...losing... The last one made tears spring up in my eyes. Oh, how I hate losing. It's the absolute worst thing that could happen to a person, at least in my opinion. At my old school, I used to be the best soccer player out of all the girls and guys. I liked that feeling much more than the feeling I got when I lost to Pete Wentz. The door creaked open once more. This time Pete stepped in.
"Hi Kristina...are you feeling better?"
"Yeah," I lied.
"Cool...well in that case...you lost! Again! Ha-ha!" he laughed.
I didn't say anything back which probably surprised him.
"Whoa! No terrible comeback...are you sure you're okay?" he gave me a suspicious look.
I decided to tell the truth. "No, my back hurts, my feet hurt, and I think my leg is bleeding but I can't look down at it because my neck hurts too. And worst of all, I lost."
He looked sympathetic, "Sorry, Fink...better luck next time,"
He smiled before leaving the room. Well, at least he's being nicer. I wonder how long it will last. What is taking my parents so long? They're right next door! Oh right...work. My mom won't get back until five. Does that mean I'm stuck in here that whole time? I groaned at the thought. In a few minutes I started singing out of boredom.
"Why is the bedroom so cold? You've turned away on your side
Is my timing that flawed - our respect run so dry?
Yet there's still this appeal that we've kept through our lives
Love, love will tear us apart again--"
I love Joy Division... I sang more songs until I got sick of that too. Then the door didn't creak open. It slammed and my parents burst in.
"Kris! Are you okay, honey?!" my mom asked worriedly.
"No, I got hit by a soccer ball and I lost..." I said bitterly.
My dad tried to give me a hug but I pushed him away before he hurt me even further.
"You're lucky that nice boy was there!" my mother said in that annoying mom voice of hers.
"That nice boy was the one who kicked the ball and made me end up here in the first place!" I protested.
She ignored this and told my dad to carry me home. It must have looked weird because I'm about four inches taller than him. I (thank God) had my mom's genes and was pretty tall. I also got "great hair" from her side but she said I ruined it by wearing it in a ponytail all the time. Well, how am I supposed to play soccer with all the red hair flying all over my face?! By now, the three of us were downstairs.
"Kristina, did you say thanks to your friend?" mom had to ask before we could leave.
"No, I don't see any of my friends around..."
She gave me a look. I rolled my eyes and looked at Pete who was smirking.
"Thank you so very much Peter, for making my back hurt, and forcing me to sit in a room filled with posters of half-naked ladies. Oh, and added thanks for causing this embarrassing situation in which I'm in my dad's arms, having to thank someone who I don't think deserves thanking,"
I gave him a polite smile and ordered my dad to get me out of there. Mother dear was turning bright red with either anger or embarrassment. I never make her happy even if I obey her every command!
"Hey! You're awake. Um...Pete called your parents. They'll be here soon. I'm Sami by the way. Pete's sister. I've heard a lot about you. He says you're a great soccer player," she smiled kindly.
I smiled back but was thoroughly confused. Pete's house? Why am I at Pete's house? And since when does he think I'm a 'great soccer player'?
"Well, I gotta leave you now...Pete will come get you once your parents are here."
I nodded slowly as she left. My memory was coming back now. The soccer game...the ball hitting my face...me falling hard...losing... The last one made tears spring up in my eyes. Oh, how I hate losing. It's the absolute worst thing that could happen to a person, at least in my opinion. At my old school, I used to be the best soccer player out of all the girls and guys. I liked that feeling much more than the feeling I got when I lost to Pete Wentz. The door creaked open once more. This time Pete stepped in.
"Hi Kristina...are you feeling better?"
"Yeah," I lied.
"Cool...well in that case...you lost! Again! Ha-ha!" he laughed.
I didn't say anything back which probably surprised him.
"Whoa! No terrible comeback...are you sure you're okay?" he gave me a suspicious look.
I decided to tell the truth. "No, my back hurts, my feet hurt, and I think my leg is bleeding but I can't look down at it because my neck hurts too. And worst of all, I lost."
He looked sympathetic, "Sorry, Fink...better luck next time,"
He smiled before leaving the room. Well, at least he's being nicer. I wonder how long it will last. What is taking my parents so long? They're right next door! Oh right...work. My mom won't get back until five. Does that mean I'm stuck in here that whole time? I groaned at the thought. In a few minutes I started singing out of boredom.
"Why is the bedroom so cold? You've turned away on your side
Is my timing that flawed - our respect run so dry?
Yet there's still this appeal that we've kept through our lives
Love, love will tear us apart again--"
I love Joy Division... I sang more songs until I got sick of that too. Then the door didn't creak open. It slammed and my parents burst in.
"Kris! Are you okay, honey?!" my mom asked worriedly.
"No, I got hit by a soccer ball and I lost..." I said bitterly.
My dad tried to give me a hug but I pushed him away before he hurt me even further.
"You're lucky that nice boy was there!" my mother said in that annoying mom voice of hers.
"That nice boy was the one who kicked the ball and made me end up here in the first place!" I protested.
She ignored this and told my dad to carry me home. It must have looked weird because I'm about four inches taller than him. I (thank God) had my mom's genes and was pretty tall. I also got "great hair" from her side but she said I ruined it by wearing it in a ponytail all the time. Well, how am I supposed to play soccer with all the red hair flying all over my face?! By now, the three of us were downstairs.
"Kristina, did you say thanks to your friend?" mom had to ask before we could leave.
"No, I don't see any of my friends around..."
She gave me a look. I rolled my eyes and looked at Pete who was smirking.
"Thank you so very much Peter, for making my back hurt, and forcing me to sit in a room filled with posters of half-naked ladies. Oh, and added thanks for causing this embarrassing situation in which I'm in my dad's arms, having to thank someone who I don't think deserves thanking,"
I gave him a polite smile and ordered my dad to get me out of there. Mother dear was turning bright red with either anger or embarrassment. I never make her happy even if I obey her every command!
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