Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.
Author's note: we pretty much know nothing about Veruca's family, so I made it up. (No kidding.)
EDIT: I found on IMDb that Veruca's last name is Albano.
*Karasuma*Firestorm*
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
While You Were Out
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
Larry didn't disappoint. Half an hour later, Miranda's phone rang and his was the voice on the other end. "I'm home now," he announced.
"Okay, good," Miranda said.
"I thought so."
They reached an awkward silence as Miranda realized that she wanted to keep the conversation going, but didn't know what else to say, and as Larry waited for her to make the next move because calling her had been her idea.
"So, um, what are we doing tomorrow?" Miranda asked finally.
"Well, we could hang out at Veruca's pool again. Or there's the zoo, or mini-golf, or bowling, or we could go see another movie..." Larry said.
Miranda thought this over. Whenever she was hanging out with Lizzie and Gordo, which was almost all of the time, they only ever went to Digital Bean, the mall, or Lizzie's house. It was a routine that Miranda knew well, and she enjoyed it, but the possibility of new locations and prospects sounded interesting. "Sounds good," she said.
"Which one?"
"All of them." Miranda laughed. "Clearly, I don't get out much. How about we go to the zoo tomorrow?"
"Whatever the lady wants," Larry said.
"Um, Larry?" Miranda asked.
"Yeah?"
Suddenly she faltered. She'd been about to ask him if Veruca and Claire *had* to come, but then she realized just exactly how crazy that request was. "Nothing," she said quickly. "I'll...see you later."
"Later."
Miranda hung up the phone a little more forcefully than she'd intended, but with any luck Larry was hanging up at the same time, and didn't hear the sharpness of her gesture, which he might interpret as anger. It wasn't really...well, at least not at him. Miranda was a little angry with herself, for being the reigning queen of pathetic losers. She did *not* have a crush on Tudgeman. No way, no how, nothing doing.
Yeah, and if she said it often enough, it might come true. Click your heels three times.
What she needed more than anything was a best friend to talk to. But Lizzie was in Rome. And even if she wasn't, she probably would've gone into shock about Miranda's unexpected dive into social disaster. Gordo would be a little more receptive of a sudden emotional rush, but even he would find the object of her affections odd. Mocking from either camp would be unavoidable, and a crushing blow to her ego, besides.
Well, who else did she have? There was her current social circle, of course. Obviously she couldn't talk to Tudgeman about it. And she still didn't know if she could trust Claire, especially with a secret as monumental as this. Her only other option was Veruca.
Miranda picked up the receiver and dialed Veruca's number as quickly as her brain could process the numbers on the memo pad she kept next to the phone.
Veruca's mom answered on the third ring. "Hello?"
"Um, hi, Mrs. Albano...this is Veruca...no, this is Miranda...I was looking for Veruca?"
"Oh, hi, Miranda! You know, I've heard so much about you, and it's such a pleasure to have you calling. I heard you were over at the house today, I wish I could've met you." Mrs. Albano didn't mind the onslaught of kids at her house as long as Veruca's older brother Julius was around, which he usually was. Their mom was a single parent, and often had to work late, but from everything Miranda had heard, she was a wonderful woman.
Even so, she wasn't sure what to say to the woman. "Veruca's told me a lot about you, too," Miranda said finally.
"Well, you'll absolutely have to come over for dinner sometime. We'd love to have you."
"Oh, that'd be great," Miranda said, surprised to find herself thinking that that really would be great.
"I won't keep you any longer, dear. Just a second." There was a pause on the other end of pure silence, which Miranda took as being her on hold. Seconds later, sound returned in a wave of soft subtleness, like a paper rustling distantly in the background, the faint pattern of footsteps. "Hey," Veruca said.
"Hey, it's Miranda."
"Yeah. What's up?"
"Um," was all she could say.
"This is about Larry, isn't it?"
"How'd you know?"
"I'm a friggin' psychic," Veruca said dryly, then laughed. "No, I'm not. Let me guess, after Claire and I shipped out, he offered to walk you home?"
"Are you *sure* you're not a psychic?" Miranda said.
"No, just really intuitive. And my best bet is that you've been thinking about what I said this afternoon."
"Well, I can't very well *not* think about the guy who buys me a jumbo popcorn, no strings attached," Miranda said, laughing slightly, trying to pretend this was no biggie.
"If you're thinking about it, and you're calling me about it, then that means that you probably like him back, and you want advice. Now, under normal circumstances, my answer would be simple. Go out with him. But considering your history, you're probably worried about facing social ruin once school starts again."
"What's that supposed to mean, my 'history?'" Miranda said irritably, focusing on her anger to avoid thinking about the fact that Veruca was one hundred percent right so far.
"How quickly you've forgotten your party earlier this year, where everyone was invited except a certain someone, and he had to pretend to be someone else just so he could go," Veruca said, and though her words were a bit accusatory, her tone wasn't.
"Well, that was a mistake, okay? I'm allowed to make mistakes, aren't I?"
"You really hurt his feelings, Miranda," Veruca said softly. Miranda could tell that she really cared about this guy, not necessarily as a potential boyfriend but as a person, and it forced Miranda to guiltily realize that she really had been a grade-A bitch to Larry Tudgeman throughout the entire duration of their association.
"I'm sorry," Miranda said softly. "Really."
"Don't tell me, tell him."
"I have told him!"
"Then show him," Veruca advised gently. "'Night, Miranda."
Miranda didn't hear the click of Veruca hanging up, and it was some time before the buzz of the dial tone fully registered in her brain. Dully she replaced the receiver and lay on top of her mattress, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.
Author's note: we pretty much know nothing about Veruca's family, so I made it up. (No kidding.)
EDIT: I found on IMDb that Veruca's last name is Albano.
*Karasuma*Firestorm*
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
While You Were Out
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
Larry didn't disappoint. Half an hour later, Miranda's phone rang and his was the voice on the other end. "I'm home now," he announced.
"Okay, good," Miranda said.
"I thought so."
They reached an awkward silence as Miranda realized that she wanted to keep the conversation going, but didn't know what else to say, and as Larry waited for her to make the next move because calling her had been her idea.
"So, um, what are we doing tomorrow?" Miranda asked finally.
"Well, we could hang out at Veruca's pool again. Or there's the zoo, or mini-golf, or bowling, or we could go see another movie..." Larry said.
Miranda thought this over. Whenever she was hanging out with Lizzie and Gordo, which was almost all of the time, they only ever went to Digital Bean, the mall, or Lizzie's house. It was a routine that Miranda knew well, and she enjoyed it, but the possibility of new locations and prospects sounded interesting. "Sounds good," she said.
"Which one?"
"All of them." Miranda laughed. "Clearly, I don't get out much. How about we go to the zoo tomorrow?"
"Whatever the lady wants," Larry said.
"Um, Larry?" Miranda asked.
"Yeah?"
Suddenly she faltered. She'd been about to ask him if Veruca and Claire *had* to come, but then she realized just exactly how crazy that request was. "Nothing," she said quickly. "I'll...see you later."
"Later."
Miranda hung up the phone a little more forcefully than she'd intended, but with any luck Larry was hanging up at the same time, and didn't hear the sharpness of her gesture, which he might interpret as anger. It wasn't really...well, at least not at him. Miranda was a little angry with herself, for being the reigning queen of pathetic losers. She did *not* have a crush on Tudgeman. No way, no how, nothing doing.
Yeah, and if she said it often enough, it might come true. Click your heels three times.
What she needed more than anything was a best friend to talk to. But Lizzie was in Rome. And even if she wasn't, she probably would've gone into shock about Miranda's unexpected dive into social disaster. Gordo would be a little more receptive of a sudden emotional rush, but even he would find the object of her affections odd. Mocking from either camp would be unavoidable, and a crushing blow to her ego, besides.
Well, who else did she have? There was her current social circle, of course. Obviously she couldn't talk to Tudgeman about it. And she still didn't know if she could trust Claire, especially with a secret as monumental as this. Her only other option was Veruca.
Miranda picked up the receiver and dialed Veruca's number as quickly as her brain could process the numbers on the memo pad she kept next to the phone.
Veruca's mom answered on the third ring. "Hello?"
"Um, hi, Mrs. Albano...this is Veruca...no, this is Miranda...I was looking for Veruca?"
"Oh, hi, Miranda! You know, I've heard so much about you, and it's such a pleasure to have you calling. I heard you were over at the house today, I wish I could've met you." Mrs. Albano didn't mind the onslaught of kids at her house as long as Veruca's older brother Julius was around, which he usually was. Their mom was a single parent, and often had to work late, but from everything Miranda had heard, she was a wonderful woman.
Even so, she wasn't sure what to say to the woman. "Veruca's told me a lot about you, too," Miranda said finally.
"Well, you'll absolutely have to come over for dinner sometime. We'd love to have you."
"Oh, that'd be great," Miranda said, surprised to find herself thinking that that really would be great.
"I won't keep you any longer, dear. Just a second." There was a pause on the other end of pure silence, which Miranda took as being her on hold. Seconds later, sound returned in a wave of soft subtleness, like a paper rustling distantly in the background, the faint pattern of footsteps. "Hey," Veruca said.
"Hey, it's Miranda."
"Yeah. What's up?"
"Um," was all she could say.
"This is about Larry, isn't it?"
"How'd you know?"
"I'm a friggin' psychic," Veruca said dryly, then laughed. "No, I'm not. Let me guess, after Claire and I shipped out, he offered to walk you home?"
"Are you *sure* you're not a psychic?" Miranda said.
"No, just really intuitive. And my best bet is that you've been thinking about what I said this afternoon."
"Well, I can't very well *not* think about the guy who buys me a jumbo popcorn, no strings attached," Miranda said, laughing slightly, trying to pretend this was no biggie.
"If you're thinking about it, and you're calling me about it, then that means that you probably like him back, and you want advice. Now, under normal circumstances, my answer would be simple. Go out with him. But considering your history, you're probably worried about facing social ruin once school starts again."
"What's that supposed to mean, my 'history?'" Miranda said irritably, focusing on her anger to avoid thinking about the fact that Veruca was one hundred percent right so far.
"How quickly you've forgotten your party earlier this year, where everyone was invited except a certain someone, and he had to pretend to be someone else just so he could go," Veruca said, and though her words were a bit accusatory, her tone wasn't.
"Well, that was a mistake, okay? I'm allowed to make mistakes, aren't I?"
"You really hurt his feelings, Miranda," Veruca said softly. Miranda could tell that she really cared about this guy, not necessarily as a potential boyfriend but as a person, and it forced Miranda to guiltily realize that she really had been a grade-A bitch to Larry Tudgeman throughout the entire duration of their association.
"I'm sorry," Miranda said softly. "Really."
"Don't tell me, tell him."
"I have told him!"
"Then show him," Veruca advised gently. "'Night, Miranda."
Miranda didn't hear the click of Veruca hanging up, and it was some time before the buzz of the dial tone fully registered in her brain. Dully she replaced the receiver and lay on top of her mattress, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.