You swear lightly under your breath, scanning the beach for that little doofus you saw; right before you fell asleep, thinking you'd possibly get a nice tan, and look like you had actually done something over the last few weeks of Summer vacation.
But noooooooo, John just haaaaaaaad to put some weird mustache sticker-thing right where an actual mustache would be, when you has took a 2-hour power snooze on the beach. So now the rest of you was tanned, expect for a spot above your mouth, shaped like a mustache. Thanks, Egbert, you think hastily.
You have currently scanned the entire public beach, shooting people who give you strange looks or snickers your infamous death-glare. You seem to put them in some kind of scared trance, and they turn away quickly. You embarrassingly enter the water, and when you reach about waist deep-water, you see a familiar black, unusually spiky black hair barely bob in the water. You can only see the tips of his hair, but you take advantage of it and yank 'em anyways.
"Ow!" An intimate voice rasps underwater, bubbles escaping his mouth.
"Egbert." You cock an eyebrow at him when he finally stands up. "I sleep for two- two hours, and this," you point at your untanned mustache, "is what I wake up too?"
He breaks out a smile at you. "What?" He asks simply. "What did you expect," he snickers a few moments later. "Remember, you are talking to the pranking MASTER."
You roll your eyes. "Whateverrrrrrrr," you say in slight disgust. "Now my friends'l think I have some kind of mustache because you you." You lightly 'boop' his nose, but making sure to dig your finger nail into his nose slightly. Just for the effect.
He steps back and raises his eyebrows, smiling. "Good for you, then!" He says. "I bet the men dig that."
"Joooooooohn," you whine. "You dumb boy." You sigh. "Do you know what this will do to my REPUTATION?" You sigh again, and put the back of your hand on your forehead; just for dramatic effect.
He stifles back an obvious laugh. That idiot. "C'mon, Vriska, everyone digs those mustaches."
"Oh yeah?" You give him a good-hearted noogie, then push him into the water, crossing your arms.
He pops back up, smiling. "The pranking MASTER, Vriska!" He pushes you back down into the water, him going down with you. You both tussle around a bit, a smile both growing onto your faces. You completely forget about that tan, you just want revenge on your idiot boy.
•••••••••••••
Flashback
Your name is Vriska Serket, and you think that you have a crush on John Egbert.
But of course, that is just absurd! Who would love that boy, anyways?
Well, besides his girlfriend, who shall remain unnamed.
She has a dumb name, anyways.
You are currently tapping your eraser against your desk, thinking about some absurd question on your oh-so-happy quiz in math. You are rather unsatisfied with this test. Why do we have to find the root of some stupid number in high school, when you could be hanging out with your frenemy (ew, how cliche), Terezi Pyrope.
You'd probably take Terezi over any test any day. Anything is better then tests, anyways.
Well, besides that new idiot boy, John Egbert. He has recently just moved from who-knows-where to your highschool in Virginia, and apparently, he only lives with his dad.
It seems that the gods have fated you two together; for you two just have to be in almost every single class together. All the classes. All of them. You are utterly sick of it. With his annoying sky eyes (you had always preferred a darker blue, anyways), his black hair which stuck up at odd angles (your hair was obviously better). And his stupid rectangular glasses (you had always liked your rounder, chic glasses). You catch yourself daydrea- thinking about him, and you frantically snap out of your trance, your heart beating quite a lot faster than it was a few minutes ago.
You scribble down some random number, seeing the bell was going to ring in a few minutes. Thankfully that was your last question on your quiz, so you noisily stand up, putting your paper face-down in some paper bin-thing. As you walk past the said Egbert back to your seat, you have the urge to do something to him.
You can't think of anything to do, and proceed to go back in your seat in defeat. You sigh lightly, waiting for class to end. You take your dark blue-colored mechanical pencil and doodle on the thighs of your ripped jeans, drawing spiders and eight-balls. You'd always had an odd fascination with them. Probably because your mother is some person who studies spiders, and your dad used to be some cheap-sake fortune teller. You don't know where he is today, apparently in one of his street-side appointments, he went missing, stall and all.
But let's not get sentimental. You don't get sentimental. Especially not you.
•••••••••••••
You groan, defeated. You lay in the wrinkled beach towel next to your coward--but still not admitting defeat, of course. The sun it setting, the pale orange sun kissing the horizon, not many people left on the beach.
What the-- why all serene, Serket?
You sit up quickly, then look back at your Egbert. He's sleeping on his stupid blue towel, snoozing. His black hair is matted down to his forehead, which makes you wrinkle your nose. Your not used to him with some flat hair style.
You tentatively force a hand to spike up his hair, then reconsider at the last moment. What were you doing? Being some mom-friend like Kanaya? Uh-uh.
You sigh and draw your hand back. You look back at the horizen, then back at Egbert.
This pattern continues for about 8 minutes.
In those eight minutes, you realize a few things:
• Your mom will probably yell at you for being so late.
• You have a small cut on your left arm.
• Maybe you really ARE the mom-friend.
• You are definitely not the mom-friend.
• You're the rebel, obviously.
• You are, in fact, crushing on your idiot.
You blush, realizing what you are thinking. You tighten your lips into a straight line and look back at John. Oh god, you just called him John. You realize he's stirring.
You, in a panic, shake him. "Hey, doof, wake upppppppp," you complain. "I've been waiting, for like, eight million hours."
He finally, slowly, blinks awake, squinting at the sunlight. He mumbles and groans. "Are we still on the beach?" He asks.
You rolls your eyes. "Yes, obviously." You pick up a handful of sand. "Now get up before I throw this pile of sand onto you." He quickly scrambled up, making you crack an evil grin. "Good job, John," you dump the sand and clap.
John raises his eyebrows. "You just called me John," he pointed out, genuinely surprised. "You never call me John."
It was true; you usually call him something like Egbert, doof, or something along the line. You blush. "Slip of the tongue, Egbert," You explain. "Now c'mon."
•••••••••••••
You two are walking down the warm concrete parking lot of the beach, towels in hand. You're both wearing a loose shirt over your swimsuits. "So," you say. "Like our day at the beach?"
"Yeah, obviously." John rolls his eyes, adjusting his glasses. "It was super-fun."
"It was just us, eh?" You smile flirtatiously and wink, doing jazz-hands.
A rosy pink slowly creeps across John's face, "Vriska!" He stammers.
You don't stop there. "Just us, on this special day on the beach." You waggle your eyebrows, setting your hands down.
"Vriska." John looks down, raising his eyebrows and blushing.
"Yeah?"
"Vriska," he repeats, blushing a whole new red.
"Whaaaaaaaat is it?" You sigh and look down, then blush.
Your name is Vriska Serket, and you have just slipped your hand into John Egbert's.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Word count: 1323
Ahoy there
How'd you like my fanfiction?
And yes, I left that cliff hanger there on purpose.
OH MAN GUYS THIS IS SO OOC IM SORRY FOR YOUR EYES
THEY HAD TO READ ALL OF THAT
IM SORRY FOR ANY TEARS CAUSED
