Kelly

Bluebook #1













Kelly | Family | your anti-american dream





This story takes place about a week after Richard was arrested and exiled from the FSA.
















Kelly sat on her bed, her back against the wall, hugging her folded legs against her chest, laying her head on her knees. She sat like that for a long time. With the exception of the night of Homecoming, she hadn't slept much since Thursday night, or eaten much. Her stomach twisted and twisted around, life had lost most of its color.

She struggled with thoughts of Friday night as best she could. There was still some color in the world.

Kelly sighed, and closed her eyes tight against the onslaught of tears she felt coming. She tried to think of something else, anything.

Europe, and Geneva, where she met Richard. Something else. The "Ralphie" TV Show. No good. Telepathy, her amazing new power, gotten in the Prometheus Chamber, which was created by Richard. Ummm . . . Friday night. Anton, and . . . Something that didn't remind her of Richard or Anton. Before, back before. Amy. Amy, when they were little; they would play together. Amy, who would have sold her out and let their dad keep beating her just for old times' sakes. Something else. Friday night, after the dance. No. The Ralphie Show, when it was Scott and Eddy, and she didn't know that, and Margaux calling up, Ralphie calling her "Frenchie" . . . French doesn't help.

Kelly lay down, curled up, and pulled her blanket over her head. "This isn't working," she whispered. She knew what she needed to do, anyway. Richard would understand. And – she refused the think of Divis coming in less than a year, that she or Richard or all of them might die – and when she's graduated high school, she'll move to Europe, to England or Geneva, and she'll find him again.

But now. Now is a different time. She sat up, and removed the covers. She checked her make-up in the mirror, and then left the house, making her way to the Delacour house.

* * *

The front door opened to reveal Anton, and Kelly sighed in relief. "I was afraid Margaux would answer. Or your little brother."

"What's up, Kelly?"

"Let's go to the treehouse."

Anton shrugged. "If you like."

They walked into the backyard, and climbed into the treehouse, and Kelly sat cross-legged against a wall, and started playing with her hair.

Anton sat down against the wall next to hers, so they didn't quite face each other. "What's up, Kelly? What did you want to talk about?"

Kelly looked up, because Anton sounded worried, and she realized she probably looked mad or sad or something. She tried a smile; it was weak, but she smiled.

"Basically, I want to tell you that the guy I told you about, the one I met in Geneva? Well, we basically decided the whole long-distance thing isn't really working out, and so . . . " She stopped, afraid she might start to cry again, which she definitely did not want to do in front of Anton. "Anyway." She looked up at Anton, and smiled, and this time, smiling wasn't so hard. "The poems you wrote were great."

Anton smiled, too, and scooted across the floor till he sat next to Kelly. He put an arm around her, and she snuggled against him. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Anton kissed the top of her head, and she looked up. She leaned up toward him, and they kissed, and she didn't block thoughts of the last time they kissed.

Anton pulled away slightly, and he was smiling. Kelly leaned against him again.

"So, Kelly, does this mean you want to go out Saturday?"
















finis