Confidential
Authors: Jack Parker
Confidential
A NOVEL
by
JACK PARKER
AMAZON KINDLE EDITION
*****
PUBLISHED BY :
Jack Parker
Confidential
This Novel is
a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright ©
2012
by
Jack parker
Cover and internal design
©
2012
by
Jack Parker
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be used or reproduced, in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
*****
For mom and my wife
I really like to buy things. Boom. I want it, I pay for it, and I have it. It's mine. Not anyone else's. I get it. Instant gratification.
Unless you buy it online, then it's not so instant. But who cares? I still get it. I still know its coming. I can still have it. It's still
mine
.
Now life? Life is not like buying things. I want something, I "pay for it" do something to make it mine, whatever you want to call it. And what happens? Usually nothing. Usually my wants just become longings. No instant gratification there. More like a prolonged hurt. And sometimes a little self esteem killer. You're not good enough to get that. And the reasons you're not good enough? They could be infinite.
But when buying something… like clothes? Not so much. The only reason you can't get something is because you don't have money. Clerks don't discriminate who buys what, as long as the cash is there.
I mean, I could try on a shirt, and it could be totally tight, my muffin top oozing out of the bottom, and a sales person would lie to me, and tell me exactly what I want to hear, and I will buy it, because I like it, I may never wear it, but nothing and no one was stopping me from getting it.
Shopping makes me feel better. It makes me feel… satisfied. When I go to school the next day, and I'm wearing something nice, a really kick ass pair of dark wash jeans I got over Christmas, some really hot underwear (hellloooo, knowing you have sexy underwear just makes you glow), wearing a unique, totally cool shirt that I know no one has because I got it in California? Mmmm. I love that feeling. I feel pretty. I feel special, different,
wanted
.
And I know it. I can walk down a hall, and watch people look at me. And I know that look. There are different stares. But this one, the one where they can't not look, that's the best.
And all those girls, that try too hard to look good, or attempt to not try and show everyone their "natural beauty", yeah, that's bull shit.
Because it doesn't matter how long you take in the morning, or how little you take, it has to change everyday. Because each day is different. I will curl my hair, wave it, straighten it, crimp it, whatever; until I know it looks good. I'll do my makeup, or not, all depending on how I feel.
See that's the key, that's what girls don't get. If you feel you look hot, you do. Some girl thinks she needs a little bit more, but no. Way over-kill. Once you go past that feeling, you just look like you tried to hard.
And that's where we begin. Where I'm sitting next to this girl, who did the whole over-kill thing. She looked fake, make-up caked on, she laughed too hard, her nails too perfect.
That's another thing, don't be too perfect, it makes you unrelatible. And if people can't relate, you'll be hated.
This girl, Caroline, had
a
last name really close to mine. Caroline Vanders, where as I'm: Heidi Van Dauson. Anyways, Caroline was flirting with this guy, Chris, and was bugging me like you would not believe. I mean, really? You want to brag about how you went out and did all this and that? Wow. You're so cool. Someone, please, make me just like her. So I can go to all the parties she goes to, so I can meet all the people she meets.
Seriously, if I had to hear a "oh I totally know what you mean! This one time…" once more I think I may pee myself. Here. In Algebra II/Trigg.
And that's how my day started out. With Caroline Vanders and Chris what's-his-face, flirting so that in two weeks they could start having sex and not be called whores. But, about 5 seconds after Caroline let out a squeal and said, "I totally know what you mean! This one-"
Our door burst open, and made a really loud, and I mean, my ears popped loud, noise and a teacher announced that we were gong into lock down.
Ooo. Lock down? Nothing exciting happens in my life. Maybe a bank got robbed? That happened once when this girl on my track team's older sister was a sophomore. Sophomore? No. Senior. Maybe. One of the S's.
Not long after the teacher informed us, we had an announcement. Everyone was to stay in the classrooms, lock the doors. Get as far away from the windows as possible. I hated my math class, it was like a prison, one reason: no windows. When going into a lock down, it suddenly became a place I actually didn't mind being in. No windows were good.
My Algebra class sat in silence, for a good hour, before the school deemed it okay for us to return to class. That's right. You heard me. Our teachers decided to continue with school. Lockdown had everyone pretty excited. At lunch a million stories where flying around, and even my lunch group was hyped up about it. I had three of the best friends anyone could ask for. In a shallow, high school kind of way. I've had a "best" friend before, I just don't anymore. These girls, Katie, Lauren and Emma, that I sit with, we hang out all the time. To the whole school, we seem like the group of girls that are pretty, go out a lot, are really good friends, have boyfriends, whatever, typical life, well liked. People want to be friends with me and my friends, they invite us places, they like me… to a certain point, I guess. But who cares, really? As long as I'm happy. And cute boys make me happy, cloths make me happy, Lauren, Emma, and Katie make me happy.
We don't need to have those deep conversations to be friends. I don't have to share any secrets. We know we have each other's backs. Why can't that be enough?
My friendships some would call empty, I, however, don't see it that way. My family has had to move several times, (Dad's Business) and making substantial friends that I feel deep attachment to only leads to feelings of abandonment, (on their part) which just breaks up the relationship. So now I have friends, with the common interest of appearing to be the best of friends, but really, we just have each others good company.
After a conversation at lunch over the lockdown, and what we were going to do this weekend, we head our separate ways, out to class.
And trust me when I say I was the first out of my class at the end of school, bursting through the doors, finding my car, and quickly going home. I hate school. It just drags on and on and on. I pulled into my driveway, turning up the radio, and let out a long sigh. That always makes me feel better, more composed. I cut the engine after listening to some catchy song, and got out of the car, slamming it shut.
I was so busy twiddling with my keys, attempting to find the one for the house, I didn't notice anything wrong. Until I looked up. I felt weird, like something was wrong. Something wasn't right. I can't explain it. I even went back to the car to see if I forgot something, like my cell phone. But nope, it was all in my backpack and my purse had my wallet. I couldn't put my finger on it, and after a couple seconds of hesitation, I realized that this wrong feeling, it was bad. My muscles stiffened, and I looked to the side of house, and slowly crept to it, pushing on the door, it was locked.
