The House that I Grew up In

"Don't worry," Christy was breezy as she handed over a cropped violet halter top with rhinestones spelling out the word "Tease" to Annabelle, who simply looked at the item with raised eyebrows and shook her head immediately no. "The Girls WANT you to come. I mean, it's a sleepover. Remember how much fun we used to have at our sleepovers?" Taking the rejected shirt from Annabelle, Christy held it up to herself. "If you don't want to wear it, I will."

"I appreciate you offering to lend me your clothes," Annabelle replied with a smirk. "But I think I'd be more comfortable in my own clothes. And yes, I do remember how fun our sleepovers used to be. But Sasha and Laura REALLY don't seem to like me. I think you'd have more fun without me there, and I think I'd be a lot more comfortable just staying here and curling up with a good book."

Rolling her eyes in despair, Christy shook her head emphatically. "No! You are young; you're beautiful; and you're MY best friend. No way in hell I'm letting you spend another night like some shut-in loser." Rising from the bed, she tossed her shiny light hair over her shoulder defiantly. "You are going, and you are going to have fun - even if I have to kill you! Am I clear?"

Although Annabelle really didn't want to go, she couldn't help but laugh at the look of seriousness on Christy's beautiful face. "Fine," she gave up, immediately eliciting a great big grin from Christy. "But I'm not wearing your clothes or putting on makeup."

Pouting slightly, Christy looked annoyed that she hadn't been entirely victorious in her argument with Annabelle, but she quickly dismissed it. "Fair enough," she gave her friend a dazzling smile, showing off a row of perfectly straight white teeth. "It doesn't really matter, anyway. It's just going to be us four girls sitting around and watching movies."

Smiling a bit more at the description Christy had just given, Annabelle nodded and headed towards the guest room. "When she puts it that way, tonight doesn't seem like it should be too bad," she thought to herself. "Just four girls sitting around and watching movies, being young. It might even be fun..."

-----

"What are you wearing?" Laura's pale eyes blinked rapidly in horror at Christy and Annabelle when they arrived later that evening at the heavy wood front door of her large, spacious house. "The Guys are going to be here in fifteen minutes!"

"The Guys?" Christy honestly looked bewildered, shooting a stare at Annabelle, silently begging her friend to believe she didn't know what Laura was talking about. "I thought it was just the four of us tonight."

Letting out a perturbed sigh of frustration, Sasha grabbed Christy by the arm and pulled her into the house. "Why on earth would we do that?" she looked as if Christy had just suggested they all shave off their eyebrows. "That was just an excuse so Laura's parents wouldn't know we were planning to go to a party tonight, while they're away. The Guys will be here in a few, to pick us up. So go get ready!"

Seeing that Annabelle was already pulling back a bit from the group, Christy knew her friend really wouldn't enjoy going to a party tonight. "I don't think Annabelle and I are going to go..." she began, causing Annabelle to smile appreciatively at her.

"Of course you are!" Laura insisted. "Josh is expecting you!"

“Josh is going?" Christy's face changed immediately, and she looked hopefully at Annabelle. "Well, since Josh is going..." she bit her bottom lip. "Would you consider going for, just, like an hour?"

Although Annabelle was feeling frustrated somewhere deep down, she forced herself to calm down. Getting angry rarely resolved anything, and anyway, it was clear Christy hadn't intentionally tricked her into coming. "Okay, for an hour," she conceded, and started laughing when Christy let out a whoop and threw her arms around her shoulders, telling her how much she loved her. Annabelle couldn't help but notice the annoyed looks passing between Laura and Sasha's eyes, but she did her best to ignore them and hug Christy back.

As Christy started heading towards the bathroom to change and apply more makeup, Laura looked at Annabelle with contempt. "Aren't you going to change?" she asked, looking at the girl in her simple cotton emerald green tank top, black shorts and flip-flops. "You look like a bag lady."

"Shut up, you bitch," Christy called out from the bathroom, but quickly started laughing. "Ignore her, Annabelle. Laura's just jealous that you have big enough boobs to pull off a tank top like that!"

“Yeah, right," Laura took one last look Annabelle and rolled her eyes. "That's it. I'm jealous of the Mexican tribe freak."

Realizing she hadn't actually said a word, Annabelle watched as Laura stormed away from her and into another room. While she didn't care one bit what Laura - or anyone else - thought of how she looked, what she wore or where she came from, she was still in a bit of shock by how rude Laura had been, completely unprovoked. And how strange it was that Christy thought this sort of behavior was something to laugh about...

-----

When The Boys had arrived – Josh, sober, and three of his friends, completely plastered – Annabelle felt a large knot forming in her stomach. She didn’t belong here. Not only was she going to be uncomfortable herself, but she was afraid that she would somehow also ruin Christy’s evening.

“Don’t be retarded,” Christy insisted when Annabelle whispered her worries to her, although both her voice and her bright blue eyes were soft with concern. “You’ll be fine, and so will everyone else. Here,” she paused and reached into her leather Kate Spade bag, pulling out her keys. “Josh is driving his car, but you take mine. That way, if you’re uncomfortable at any point, you can leave.”

Giving Christy a small smile, Annabelle was glad she had followed her gut when she had originally seen all the superficial changes in her best friend. Despite the hair, makeup, clothes and language, Christy was still a very good friend to Annabelle. “Thank you,” Annabelle replied softly, receiving a rare shy nod from her friend.

As everyone began to pile into Josh’s car, one of his friends noticed Annabelle unlocking the driver’s side of Christy’s convertible. “You're right,” the sandy-haired boy walked up towards the passenger-side door. “There will be too many people in one car. Mind if I ride with you?”

Not wanting to pass judgment, Annabelle gave a small nod to Josh’s friend – Sam was his name, she believed – before sitting in the driver’s seat and closing the door behind her. Turning on the ignition and putting on her seatbelt, she finally looked over at the boy in the other seat. “I’m not sure where I’m going…” she told him.

“Are any of us?” Sam slurred slightly and gave Annabelle a grin that made her roll her eyes – a habit she tried to refrain from normally, but had found herself doing several times since she had arrived.

“Do you know the address of the party, in case I lose Josh?” Annabelle asked, her voice no-nonsense.

With a small frown, Sam leaned back into the passenger seat. “Yeah, I know where we're going,” he sighed in annoyance. “Any reason you’re being a bitch?” he asked as both cars began traveling down the well-kept suburban street.

Taking in a deep breath, Annabelle let it out. Although she had figured out in the last week that Christy and her friends seemed to use these personal insults simply as greetings, she was having a hard time accepting that. In her normal life, she would never call someone a “bitch” “slut” “bastard” or “asshole”. Yet, all of Christy’s friends seemed to believe these were nearly terms of endearment.

“Please don’t call me a bitch,” Annabelle replied calmly, glad to see that Josh was driving close to the speed limit and using his indicators when he turned. It appeared it wouldn’t be too hard to follow his car.

Suddenly, Annabelle’s whole body stiffened as Sam’s hand slid behind her back and his fingers tangled in her hair. “You know, you’re totally hot,” Sam was staring at her, while Annabelle kept her focus on the road. “Your hair is sexy,” he added, winding his fingers into the waves further. “What color would you call it?”

“Brown,” Annabelle said dully, with a frown, never taking her eyes off Josh’s taillights.

Chuckling in amusement, Sam’s hand buried further in Annabelle’s hair. “I KNOW that,” he answered condescendingly. “I just meant, it has red in it too. It looks really good with that shirt. You can really see how great your body is in that outfit.”

Although she normally tried to control her temper, Annabelle turned her head with blaringly angry eyes towards Sam as they stopped at a light. “Please take your hand out of my hair,” she said slowly, but with strength, immediately turning her eyes back to the road.

“Sure,” Sam replied, allowing Annabelle to relax for a moment, before she stiffened up again. Sam had simply tossed her hair over her shoulder, and then begun rubbing Annabelle’s neck. “Your skin’s really soft,” he whispered as he leaned his mouth over towards her neck, smelling of alcohol as his breath traveled over her skin.

“If you care about your testicles at all,” Annabelle’s voice was low, steady and angry, unlike she had ever heard it before. “You will stop touching me RIGHT NOW.”

Pulling his hand and lips away in surprise, Sam frowned just as Annabelle followed Josh’s car into a parking area at the end of a private neighborhood and parked. “Shit, it’s just like Laura and Sasha said,” Sam shook his head in disgust as Annabelle turned off the engine. “You are a jungle freak bitch.” Without another word, he yanked open the door of the car and slammed it behind him.

“Well, if that’s any indication,” Annabelle thought sarcastically to herself. “Tonight’s going to be a BLAST.”

-----

After ten minutes in the loud, crowded party, Annabelle knew she wanted to leave, but she had promised Christy she would stay an hour. She bided her time, growing more annoyed as Josh's friends all took turns trying to drunkenly hit on her. After she had turned them all down, receiving a myriad of insults in return, she tried standing in a darkened corner, trying to ignore both Christy making out heavily with Josh on a nearby couch and The Girls throwing disgusted glances Annabelle’s way.

Looking down at her watch, Annabelle sighed in relief. She had been there forty-five minutes. Surely that was close enough to an hour for Christy. "Hey," Annabelle said to her friend, trying to not look directly at Christy as Josh groped her in a room filled with people. "I'm going to go."

Pulling her lips from Josh's, Christy looked at Annabelle but didn't seem to mind that Josh still had his hand up the front of her shirt while the girls spoke. "You sure?" she asked, giggling as Josh nipped at her neck.

Her face flushing with embarrassment, Annabelle nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Moving through the crowd, Annabelle was relieved that she was almost out of the uncomfortable party when she felt someone grab her arm. Turning around, she saw Sasha's brown eyes flashing. "Did you hook up with Sam on the way here?" she demanded.

Raising her eyebrows in shock, Annabelle shook her head. Before she could respond further though, Sasha cut her off. "Liar," she said coldly. "I don't care if Christine has some family obligation where she has to be nice to you. I don't - and I don't like being forced to hang out with some pathetic bitch who tries to steal my boyfriend. Sam and I are almost officially a couple, so keep your loser hands off him. Slut."

Taking a deep breath, Annabelle shook herself from Sasha's grasp. One part of her wanted to yell at Sasha, tell her that Sam was the one making a more on Annabelle; not the other way around. Another wanted to cry, ask why Sasha and Laura were being so mean to her for no reason. But instead, Annabelle reached deep inside to her strength. Saying nothing, she just turned and walked out of the house.

Getting back to her old neighborhood was a little harder than Annabelle had expected, and she got lost twice. By the time she pulled the convertible into Christy's driveway, she was shaking. She couldn't understand what was going wrong. Never before had Annabelle dealt with such unprovoked cruelty. In all the places she had been over the years, she had never faced such maliciousness.

Stepping out of the car, Annabelle decided to take a walk around the block to try to clear her head. She breathed evenly as she passed the huge houses on the cul-de-sac, trying to clear her mind of any traces of anger or hurt. Feelings like those never led to anything good, and Annabelle always tried her best to work through them quickly.

After ten minutes of walking and trying to calm down, Annabelle found herself in front of her old house. She immediately noticed that Karen's car wasn't in the driveway and sighed in disappointment. She really liked the woman, and would have liked someone to talk to for a while.

"You lose something?" Quinn's voice was sarcastic as he walked out the front door, slamming it closed behind him and lighting a cigarette.

A few days before, Annabelle had really wanted to try to be Quinn's friend. She had assumed that under his rough exterior, he was probably just lonely. But after the treatment she had received from Sasha earlier, Annabelle just couldn't find the patience in herself to bother putting up with his rude quips tonight. Without a word, she turned to head to Christy's empty house.

"Wait," Quinn's voice was much gentler, and he walked quickly to Annabelle's side. "Are you, um, okay?"

Quinn looked uncomfortable just offering the words of concern, which caused Annabelle to smile just a little. But that quickly faded. "You don't care," she said flatly, surprising herself with how despondent she sounded in her own head. Annabelle had seen some difficult things over the years - children nearly starved, soldiers who had been shot - but with her mother by her side, she had always managed to keep her mind upbeat, focusing on the good they were going to do. Now, just a few insults from a girl she barely knew, and Annabelle was disheartened. In a way, she was embarrassed by her own feelings, hating to act selfishly.

"I DON'T care," Quinn quickly agreed with a sneer. "I don't know why I bothered trying to be nice. I knew you were going to end up being a bitch, just like Christine and all her friends."

Suddenly, Annabelle's blood boiled. "YOU were trying to be nice?" she asked Quinn incredulously. "You've been nothing but downright arrogant and rude since I've gotten here - just like all of Christine's friends. I don't understand why everybody around here is so damn mean! And will people please stop calling me a bitch! I haven't done ANYTHING to ANYONE." Suddenly, tears started falling over Annabelle's cheeks.

His green eyes wide with surprise, Quinn took in the vision of the beautiful girl before him, shoulders shaking. "Come here," he finally said, his voice soft as he tossed away his cigarette. "Please," he added, taking Annabelle's elbow and leading her to the front porch, to sit on the steps. Sitting beside her, Quinn awkwardly patted her back a couple times before running a hand through his short dark hair, a look of confusion on his face. "I'm sorry if I've been that much of a dick to you since you got here," he finally added, his voice a bit embarrassed.

Looking over as she swiped at her wet cheek with the back of one hand, Annabelle gave Quinn a small smile. "Thank you," she replied sincerely. "And I'm sorry, too. That was very unfair of me to unload on you. I wasn't just mad at you - although I would prefer you stop calling me a bitch. I guess it was just a bad night."

Looking into the dark eyes of the girl beside him, Quinn noticed that she didn't wear a stitch of makeup, not even lip gloss. "Want to talk about it?" he asked, not sure where that came from. He still had reservations about Annabelle, although he was beginning to realize that most of them were unfounded; she had been nothing but nice to both him and his mother since she had arrived.

Nodding, Annabelle decided not to comment anymore on how quickly Quinn's attitude towards her was changing. She didn't want to make him defensive. Instead, she told him about her evening, including Sam's moves on her in the car and Sasha's scathing accusations before she left the party. "I don't know why those girls hate me so much."

"Because they're evil," Quinn replied quickly and evenly. "I go to school with them; I know. They are stuck-up, spoiled, nasty, self-serving bitches."

"I hate that word," Annabelle said in reply. "I hate any all-consuming labels like that."

"You don't label people?" Quinn asked incredulously.

Shaking her head, Annabelle looked into Quinn's eyes and momentarily admired the amber ring around the green in each of his eyes before speaking. "It doesn't do any good," she said with a shrug. "Everyone's different, no matter how they look. Like Christy - she looks just like Sasha and Laura, but she is really sweet."

"Yeah, right," Quinn retorted. "She's a bit-" he stopped himself when he saw Annabelle's disapproving look. "She isn't always so sweet," he finished, causing Annabelle to smirk.

"Maybe you haven't given her a chance," Annabelle countered. "But besides that - look at you. With the cigarette always hanging from your mouth, and the leather jacket in the middle of summer, and a constant look of annoyance on your face - yeah, like that!"

While Quinn WAS getting annoyed with Annabelle's observations of him, her last statement made him chuckle. "Well, aren't you labeling me, based on how I look?" he asked, feeling smug in his response.

"No," Annabelle shook her head immediately, her long hair tumbling over her shoulder and a few fiery highlights glowing in the moonlight. Quinn swallowed hard and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away for a moment. "I assume you have your reasons for all of that, even if I don't get them. But if I had taken you at face value, I would have assumed you were-"

"A criminal?" Quinn asked, looking right into Annabelle's black eyes. He wanted to know what Christine had told her about him, for some reason.

Shrugging, Annabelle smirked. "That. Or just trying too hard."

"Funny," Quinn replied dryly, but couldn't help but return her smirk. He suddenly felt self-conscious, though, and slid out of his jacket. "I don't always dress like this," he said.

"Obviously," Annabelle said, her voice teasing as she unconsciously admired his toned arms. "I'm sure in summer it's leather and boots, and winter it's lace and heels."

Despite himself, Quinn laughed. "So, does it bother you if people see you and label you?"

"Yes," replied Annabelle straight away.

Raising his eyebrows, Quinn cocked his head a bit. "Even though most people's first label of you would be 'incredibly beautiful girl'?" He normally didn’t compliment girls so directly, but the words just tumbled out as he looked at Annablelle.

Quinn's statement taking Annabelle by complete surprise, she felt her cheeks heating. "It seems that 'bitch' was your first label for me," she reminded him, steering the conversation away from the flattering remark.

"That's because bitch and beautiful are usually synonymous in this neighborhood," Quinn replied with a grin. “Or so I thought, before I met you and learned how wrong it is to use labels like that.”

Laughing, Annabelle stood up. "I should go,” she said, looking up into his face as he rose beside her. “I appreciate you talking to me," she told Quinn.

"Just don't go thinking we're friends now," Quinn teased. "I don't need to be associated with some open-minded, honesty, straightforward girl. It could ruin my image - my reputation."

"Of course," Annabelle smiled. "Wouldn't want people to think you’re anything besides a hardened criminal, right?"

"Right," Quinn said, looking over Annabelle's face once more. While he had noticed how attractive she was the first time he met her, he had instantly shaken that thought from his mind, assuming she was a bitch. After talking to her, though, he realized his first assessment was right - she was gorgeous in an incredibly natural way that made her even sexier. "Well, good night."

"Good night, Quinn," Annabelle waved and walked towards Christy's house. She chided herself for getting so upset earlier, but was glad that at least that had led to her first opportunity to begin the initial bonds of friendship with Quinn, whose intense green eyes had made her stomach tumble more than once that evening in an unfamiliar way...

-----

GOOD, MY WRITER’S BLOCK DEFINITELY SEEMS TO BE GONE AND MY MUSE HAS APPARENTLY COME BACK FROM VACATION!

THANKS TO TEMPLETON21 FOR FINDING THE TIME TO READ AND REVIEW MY STORY, AND BEGIN ANOTHER KICK ASS STORY HERSELF!

TO 7YEARS, THANKS FOR THE INFO ON THE ANONYMOUS POSTINGS. I HADN’T EVEN REALIZED THAT. AND THANKS FOR BEING SO SWEET ABOUT MY OTHER WRITINGS, AS WELL.

TO NESL247, SORRY IF THERE WAS TOO MUCH INFO IN THE FIRST CHAPTER. I WAS JUST TRYING TO BUILD A BACKSTORY, BUT MAYBE I SHOULD HAVE SPLIT IT INTO TWO CHAPTERS. IN REGARDS TO CHRISTY AND THE GIRLS, I UNDERSTAND YOUR HATE, BUT HOPEFULLY YOU DON’T SEE THEM AS TWO-DIMENSIONAL. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU DO. AND I’M NOT GOING TO GIVE AWAY ANY PLOT POINTS YET.

THANKS TO GIRLFIXER FOR BEING SUCH A LOYAL READER AND REVIEWER OVER THE PAST COUPLE YEARS. YOU ROCK! AND I’LL ANSWER YOUR EMAIL THIS WEEK, I PROMISE!

THANKS ALSO TO EDWARD, BLONDIEXOXO AND SILKEN PETAL FOR TAKING THE TIME TO REVIEW.

I WILL TRY TO POST AT LEAST ONE MORE CHAPTER THIS WEEK. THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT!!!