Trust, as told by Patty Sommers, Bonnyville High gossip

(Topic: write a 500-word story about "Trust", and include the following sentence: "She had her suitcase with her.")

Jenny liked Jimmy but not enough to trust him. Jimmy loved Cassie in her low-rise denim, but not enough to remember her last name. Cassie hated Chip because he mistook the backseat of Tiffany’s Rio for algebra class, where he then mistook Amber Jenkins’s gap-tooth grin for a lollipop because they were totally sucking face when Cassie caught them. Now Cassie couldn’t trust Chip anymore because he’s a lying dirt-bag sonuvabitch with three strikes: one for cheating on her, one for cheating on her best friend, and one for cheating on them both with her best friend’s friend. It was sooo over between them, and I mean all of them.

Chip’s only mistake was to like Amber Jenkins enough to trust her. But you can’t trust a girl to keep a secret about anything more than six inches and less than three. Amiright? Amiright? Yeah, I’m right.

Amber Jenkins liked Chip but her real love was Johnny, and she told him so in a Valentine’s card. Well that’s sweet and all, but Valentine’s is just a jackass holiday for smug, overdeveloped girls and their candy grams. And Tobey, did all our flirtatious texting in Brit Lit not amount to a single candy gram? I hope Cupid shoots you with an arrow lined with lead. You have got the backbone of a sea cucumber, gah!

Also, Valentine’s is for guilty people like Cheryl Booker’s dad, who bought his wife diamonds this year because he hooked up with a girl at the coffee shop. By the way, the coffee there sucks and it’s always closed before nine because the girl’s too busy banging some more guilt into Cheryl’s dad.

You’d think they’d be even-steven since everyone’s getting a little something-something on the side, but there’s that thing called trust and Cheryl’s mom lost it. They found her at the cable airport with tickets to Savannah, Georgia. She had her suitcase with her and everything. Cheryl’s dad offered her a Porsche to stay but she said no. He offered her the Hamptons boat house and she said no. He offered her a sizable chunk of the trust fund and she said she’d think about it. Goes to show you can’t buy trust but you can sure buy forgiveness.

So, in conclusion: finding someone you can trust is like winning the lotto, except I’d rather have the lotto, with annuity payments of course, not the lump sum (like, duh). Because the lotto is going to be there when I wake up in the morning, and the lotto is going to be there when I’m old with droopy tits. I.E. I’m not going to lose the lotto to Jenny Henderson’s awesome rack, that Jimmy and Tobey like to stare at so much. Tobey’s says I’m just lime-green jealous because I have trust issues but that’s really just trust in a nutshell. Eyes above the neck, Tobey!

You know you love me! xoxo, Patty Sommers.

Scream

(Topic: write a 500-word story about a scream and include the following sentence: "they walk away without a word".)

Cheryl Booker, junior cheer captain of the Bonnyville high Snapping Turtles, was having a totally fab day until Cassie Thomas ruined it for her. So get this, okay? Cassie, her unpopular neighbor, warns Cheryl that the football team’s secret make-out place atop Shady Hallow is actually a forbidden Indian burial ground, which sucks because Cheryl’s been throwing awesome keggers up there all year. Cheryl thinks Cassie’s just jealous because Cassie’s a smartie and puberty has not been kind to her. That is, until Rick, the red-head rebel in the varsity jacket, drives up at sunset and they dig up, get this, a freaking skull. Like, whoa, yeah.

On the way back, Naomi, who is easily aroused by mounting suspense, is feeling up Rick while he’s driving and they run over a man in a trench-coat and hockey mask. They stop and check the road and there was, I swear to god, nothing.

Now Naomi is dead, killed by some guy with a hook (Yah, a hook. Like no way, right?), and ditto for Gabriela, the hot exchange student. The boys are mysteriously hacked into cubes the size of a good filet mignon. Cheryl knows this, but decides it’s good time for a steamy shower anyway. So she’s wearing a towel and she’s like “doo-doo-doo” putting on her scented oils when she hears this scream.

She’s like, “oh no!”

Cheryl runs back to her room to find a bloody boot print through her teddy bear, Mike-aroni, and that makes her sad because Mike Tiegs gave it to her and Mike is awesome because he’s like first-team varsity and has got abs like yo momma’s washboard, but Cheryl doesn’t know he’s dead until she trips over his decapitated body in the living room.

“Ewww, gross!” cries Cheryl.

Now this crazy motherfucker with an axe bursts out of the closet and Cheryl is bouncing along in her towel and screaming up a storm. She nearly wardrobe malfunctions and finally stumbles outside in the snow. Doom looming over her, Cheryl screams, “Don’t kill me, kill Cassie, the nerdy bitch next door!” But the phantom steadfastly raises his axe and Cheryl Booker screams one last time.

The next morning, Cassie and her chess club friends investigate the unsightly mound in the snow and there is nothing discernable but a bloody towel and blonde hair. They walk away without a word. Cassie knows an ancient curse has befallen the Bonnyville Snapping Turtles, just their parents happen to be out of town.

Shucks.

Cassie goes to the tool shed, where she converts a leaf blower into a make-shift shotgun and fashions some frag bombs from home made soap. Nerdy bitch or not, she’s damn glad that she’s watched so much MacGuyver that any axe-wielding psychopath that walks through her door is gonna eat shit.

Then she puts on some camo make-up and lets loose a scream, not of desperation, but of primal ferocity (like Rambo). Cheer captains might always scream and die to axe murderers, but let it be said that Cassidy-Rey Thomas ain’t no cheer captain.