Unforgettable - Love Story -

Quinn Diaz was just a normal popular girl at her school. Her best friend was the most popular girl in existence - due to fame. One day Sierra, her best friend, had persuaded her to do something completely evil. Quinn went up to the well-known blind kid at school named Joseph Caddy and shoved a pie in his face. Joseph eventually fought whoever was in front of him and accusing them of pie-facing him. The results ended up with Joseph and Quinn both getting into ISS.

Will something spectacular happen for them? Will they eventually become friends?

(Douglas School Shooting inspired Movella)

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7. Chapter 6

Joseph’s POV

 

 

            Jenny and I are sitting in the back of  Michael's car. There is tension between us. She’s mad at me, and well - I’m just always the problem or burden to something. The air conditioning is the only thing breaking silence right now as it blows and creates a loud noise. I know Jenny is furious at me. I don’t feel bad because people did a cruel thing to me and I get punished?

“You know what you did was completely insane, right?” she asks, making noise and positioning in her seat.

“I know.” I grump, rolling my blind eyes.

“It’s already been a day and you still haven’t told mom.”

“I know,” I repeat in an even more annoyed tone.

“So why don’t you? Your life does revolve around making everyone else's life a living hell.” She states with zero hesitation. Jenny’s right, I do like to make people miserable.

“That, I don’t know.” I sigh heavily and bang my head against the headrest.

            I know deep down, Jenny cared little about me. Her main priority is making our mother happy. I don’t blame her, Jenny was always the kind one. I, on the other hand - well I have higher expectations.

            Michael starts to slow down, which usually means he’s parking. I grab my bag and scoot to the end of my seat, preparing to exit. Just as the car comes to a stop, I start to exit. Before My body and cane could even reach the outside, Jenny grabs my wrist.

“If you don’t say anything - I will.”

            She releases my wrist in a jerky way and exits, slamming the door behind her. I mimic her action and follow Michael to the front door.

“You’ve reached the front door Caddy, have a great evening.” He helps me inside and I ignore his kindness.

            Inside, the air fills with freshness. I can hear that Jenny already made it inside because her stupid girly music is blasting from her bedroom. My body shivers a bit to a cold breeze coming from the left.

“Alphonse!” I shout, calling for him.

            Within ten-seconds or so, Alphonse, my butler, appears and notifies me by tapping me lightly on the arm and saying,

“Good evening Joseph, anything I can help with?”

“Yeah, it’s freezing in here. What the hell is that breeze?” I ask in a moody tone.

“Oh – that is secret information. Don’t you remember your birthday is coming soon.”

            My birthday, I completely forgot about it. I roll my head along with my eyes and groan at the thought of this. I love my birthdays – don’t get me wrong. It’s just, every time I have a birthday celebration, something tragic happens.

            Last year when I turned sixteen, my mom went all out on my birthday. Jenny had her sweet sixteen last year, which was totally pumped and what-not. Last year, my mom wanted me to have the “sweet sixteen” like Jenny. The only problem was, I was a boy. I’m still a boy. Things are harder with me. So, disclaimer, she invited the whole school, and I got into three fights that very night, destroying almost all the gifts I received.

“Question,” I say to Alphonse, “When is my birthday again?”

“October first. How do you not know that?”

“Alphonse, stop forgetting that I can’t fucking see.”

            Alphonse chuckles a bit and walks away. I find my way to the kitchen, where my mom happens to be. I don’t want to tell her because I know it will make her sad, but at the same time, I could care less because I mean what do I have to live for?

            As soon as my cane hits the marble floor, I hear her squeak.

“Joseph dear, sorry if the house is cold, we just have a little something we’re working on for your sweet seventeen!” She greets, grabbing my arms and kissing my cheeks. I half smile.

“Mom, I want to host my birthday this year – no offense.” My tone is straightforward and not even the slightest bit rude. Mom’s voice squeaks just a little. I’m not so sure that’s a good squeak.

“Wait - what?” She asks. trembles in her voice. Not the type of crying tremble, more of a confused tremble.

“You know, just something that I would want to do instead of something you choose.”

“Oh, okay...I didn’t know you wanted something like that.” The tremble is gone and now it’s just straight up the confusion.

“Mom, I’m turning seventeen. The least you could do is let me handle it.”

“Honey, I just wanted to help because I know you’re going to struggle on your own.”

            Ouch. Did she just point out that I’m blind? We get it, I can’t see. My blindness has nothing to do with how I function in life. I go to school like every normal kid. Okay – maybe my grades have been dropping. I guess that’s why Jenny got me a mentor.

“Jesus hell mom.”

“You know what? Forget I even said that. You can do whatever you want this year.” Mom’s voice seems to have slight aggression in it. It sounds more of an “I don’t want you to, but you do you” sort of tone.

“Really?” I ask, perkily.

“Oh yeah, I feel like you’re of age. Let’s check your grades – “

            She pauses and checks her phone. I can hear the keyboard clicks every time she types something. I learned to type without looking at a keyboard before I was blinded, so I guess that benefits a lot. The only hard part about it is seeing what they texted. Good thing I have a robot who reads me the text.

“Wow Joseph, your grades are still straight C minuses...” she says in a quiet tone. Throughout this whole conversation, mom’s voice changed like thirty times.

“Is that not a good thing?”

“No – no, I assume it’s achieving for you...”

            Suddenly, Jenny cuts into the conversation out of nowhere, her ghetto girly music is still blasting from her bedroom.

“Did Joseph tell you I hired him a mentor?” Jenny says, crunching into a snack I’m not aware of.

“No, he did not.” Mom replies with amusement.

“Yeah, her name is Ellie. She’s got straight A’s, in my grade,” she takes another munch before speaking with a mouthful, “Has experience – oh and the best part, she’s a ginger.”

            Ellie is a ginger. Who would’ve known? I smile at this and Jenny punches my arm and says, “In the net.”

 When we were little, Jenny and I used to play a game we made up called, “Ginger catch.” It’s basically a game where every time you see a ginger you punch the opponent's arm and say, “In the net” as if you caught a fish or something.

“Wow! I’m proud of you for looking out for your brother Jenny. It means a lot when I have to handle your father's job and mine at the same time.” Mom praises Jenny and drapes one arm over me.

“Oh, and mom?” Jenny says.

 

Uh-oh.

 

“Yes, Jen?”

“Did Joseph tell you about his school fight yesterday?”

“What- “

            Jenny kisses my cheek with a laugh before leaving. Oh, how I just wanted to punch her ugly face. Well – I haven’t seen what Jenny looked like in decades, last I checked, she had curly black hair like mine except shoulder length, lightly tanned skin from playing soccer, emerald green eyes, and a bazillion freckles everywhere. She also had a beauty mark hovering her top left lip.

“Joseph...” Mom says, breaking the silence. The stereo in Jenny’s room blasted even louder.

“What?”

“The fight? Why didn’t I get a call?

“PJ said it wasn’t worth calling you.”

“What, why?” She asks in a defensive tone.

“Because you would just try and sue everyone.”

“Sit and tell me what happened.” Her voice is serious now.

            I groan and tell her what happened. My mouth spills every little detail from the audio tape and in person that Jenny played. I don’t know what her reaction is, all I know is that she leaves the room with nothing to say. She did mumble under her breath, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.

            Brushing off the thought of mom, I run to living room and voice command my play station to turn on.

“What game, Master J?” A female robotic voice I named Jacki asked. My family has a heart for names with J’s. Jessica, Jenny, Joseph, and my passed-away dad, Jonathon.

“Any game that’s not gay,” I reply.

“Okay.”

            All of the games I have are in black and white. They used to be I color, but I wouldn’t be able to comprehend what was going on. The screen flashes what seems to be a dancing game with annoying pop music from Jenny’s playlist.

“Jacki, I said not gay.”

“Searching for, ‘knot gay’...”

“Ugh.”

            I give up and decide to lay on the couch. I shuffle the pillows trying to find the most comfortable position without sight. Guinness world record folks! Just as I lie down, the bell rings.

No one answers it.

            It rings again.

“Alphonse! Get the door!” I shout. No answer.

            I get off my lazy ass and find the door three-thousand years later. I twist the knob to the left and open it.

“Hi.” The person says.

“Who’s this?” I ask, not finding any clues to who they are. I just want to take a damn nap.

“You don’t remember me. That’s totally okay. I’m Ellie Anderson, your personal mentor.” I can feel the presence of her smile, so I smile too.

“What do you want?” I try and ask in the nicest way possible.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m kind of attempting to take a nap – “

“I can leave – “

“Just make this quick”

            I reach out and grab her shoulder, which seems to be a lot lower than me. I hear her gasp as I shut the door behind her. She must think our house is gold. Well, it is.

“Your house is absolutely beautiful Joey.” She compliments, using my nickname.

            Only my closest buddies and friends call me Joey. My family calls me Joseph, except Jenny. She calls me lots of other things.

“Thanks, would you like something to drink?” I ask, trying to be a gentleman. Honestly, I just want her out of my house, so I can enjoy myself.

“That’s okay, I brought a water bottle.” She half chuckles and shakes a bottle full of liquid; her water bottle.

“Cool,” I say, not really doing anything else, but plopping back into napping position.

“So, how are you holding up?” She asks me.

“I’m the same as always, okay.”

            Her body sits on the ottoman next to me. I can hear her sit because it’s a leather couch and her voice suddenly grew louder.

“Yesterday was pretty interesting if you ask me.” She chuckles.

“Yeah, and everyone in school thinks I’m a crazy psycho.”

“That’s not true.” She says with a slight groan. Almost sounded flirtatious.

“Oh, really? Even my best friends think I’m crazy.”

“I think you’re awesome.”

            My heart started to flutter when she said that. No one has ever said something so kind to me. I sit up and face her pale face. I can’t make out every feature, but I sure can tell where it’s at. Our knees bumped into each other and we say, “Sorry.” At the same time.

“So, what are your interests?” I ask her, using my professional voice.

“My interests?”

“Like what sports do you play, etcetera.”

“Oh,” She pauses to think, “I play lacrosse, and I work as an NIT at the children’s hospital.”

            An NIT? Is this girl already a nurse in training? Explains why she has good grades and what-not. Ellie sounds like the perfect girl to me. I don’t want to jump to assumptions or anything, but I actually like her so far.

“Do you drink alcohol?” I question, wanting an answer quickly because I am craving some right now.

“Ooh,” She pauses again with a chuckle and soon, her voice turns to a whisper, “Don’t tell anyone, but I drink a vodka shot every night.”

“Wow, you’re a rebel, aren’t you?”

“What can I say?”

“Well, if you want, we can get lit right now.” I offer, standing up with my cane, preparing to go grab some drinks.

“Yea – wait...” She stands too, I can feel her breath on my chin, “That would be unprofessional.”

            I look around the room for anyone that might snitch on us, then it hits me. One, I can’t see, and two, who’s gonna tell on the girl who’s helping me get my life together?

“I don’t see any snitches.” I laugh.

“Duh, you can’t even see.”

“Think again,” I say, walking with no hesitation towards the kitchen.

            Minutes later, I come back with a vodka bottle and a tray of shot glasses. A smile creeps upon my face and soon turns into a broad grin.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

“Not in the living room...”

            I laugh and hand her a bottle of vodka and grab her other hand. I lead her upstairs to my bedroom that looks like a plain fancy grey room last time I checked. She giggles and plops herself on the bed. I can hear her pour the shots into the cups and we drink.

            We keep drinking for what seems like hours. Then we started talking about teen stuff like kissing, drugs, parties, and oh yea- sex.

“You’re a virgin?” I ask her, feeling a bit tipsy. I don’t get drunk easily, but clearly, she does.

“Of COURSE not.” Ellie snorts, slapping my arm.

“Oh.”

“Why, you want to have sex?”

            Did Ellie just ask if I wanted to have sex? Is this a trick question? I’ve had sex a million times before with college girls and two years younger. I laugh and find her thigh. My hand starts to stroke it.

“Do you?”

            I hear no answer, all I feel is a tackle to the bed, and lips on mine. Okay, so this will be the three-billionth girl I’ve smashed. Her lips part from mine and she runs to the door and I hear a click. She locked it.

            And obviously, god knows what happens next.

-------------

 

A/N: OPINION ON ELLIE BEING HIS MENTOR?

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