Miranda & Grayson: First Fight
♥: It was a good thing she knew where he lived. It made it easier to stomp four houses down to finally tell him what was what. With her lips tightly pursed and her eyebrows furrowed, seven-year-old Miranda Sommers plodded down the sidewalk until she reached the Gilbert house. She walked unabashedly up to the door where she proceeded to pound on it with her fist, a look of unadulterated fury on her face.
♥: A girl that wasn't Kelly or Meredith was looking for him. That's what his parents said. Grayson came to the door, opening it slowly and looked over at the girl with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. Her eyes were big. He noticed that right away. He thought he'd seen her at school, but wasn't sure. She didn't have his teacher. "Hi." He greeted with a small wave.
♥: So this was the boy who kept stealing her best friend from him? She narrowed her eyes and glared fiercely. With her fists balled up at her sides, she moved to point a finger at him accusingly. "Stop stealing Kelly!" she snapped. "She's not your best friend. She's /my best friend/. Get your own!"
♥: Grayson backed slowly from the doorstep when the girl started yelling at him. She came over to talk about Kelly? Why was she yelling at him? "You're best friends with Kelly." He stated simply, looking her over. He was inspecting her. "She's nice."
♥: "Yes, I am," Miranda put her hands on her hips and huffed irritably. "But she's my best friend. Which means she can't be your best friend, too. So, stop trying to steal her, or I will hit you with this!" she held up her fist and shook it at him menacingly. "Get your own, stupid."
♥: "Why would you hit me?" Grayson frowned in confusion. "She's my friend. I like her. I think she likes me too... she comes over a lot." He shook his head. "I have best friends too. Mason and Damon."
♥: Frowning deeply, Miranda stared at him. What was with this boy? He wasn't reacting to her anger at all. Usually boys cringed away when she threatened to hit them. "So then leave Kelly alone!" she exclaimed. "Kelly and Abby and Lizzy are all my best friends. You can have Mason and Damon. But Kelly is mine."
♥: Grayson pulled lightly on his hair, getting annoyed. His parents always told him to be a gentleman, but this girl was making it very difficult. He took a deep breath and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "We can have more than one friend." He tried to explain to her. "Who are you, anyway?"
♥: Miranda was staring at him, visibly confused. "You can't share friends," she said, wrinkling her nose. Why didn't he know who she was? Didn't everyone? She frowned. "Miranda. Miranda Sommers." She said her name plainly, as though it was common knowledge. After all, she was involved with more things than any 'normal' seven-year-old should be.
♥: "Miranda, you're not very nice. To me or to your friends." He declared, completely sure of his opinion. He didn't care if his parents stopped him from playing outside for that comment. "Friends aren't pets. I'm not stealing Kelly. That doesn't even make sense."
♥: It didn't take her long to decide that she didn't like him. Miranda already hated him for taking Kelly away from her, but now she was positive that he was the worst person she'd ever known in her whole life. "Kelly was supposed to come play with me, but she went over to /your/ house instead! You stole her. Now stop it. Stop stealing Kelly. She was my friend first!"
♥: Grayson didn't want to talk to this girl anymore. This Miranda. She had the worst manners. He didn't do anything to deserve being yelled at like this. "I didn't steal Kelly." He snapped, his voice getting louder. "And I'm not going to tell her to stop coming over. That would be mean."
♥: "No, /you're/ mean. You're a friend-stealer, and I don't like you at all. Not even a little bit," Miranda decided loudly. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "I hope you fall and hurt your leg really bad, and no one ever wants to play with you again."
♥: Grayson's eyes widened at her. She was terrible. The most terrible girl he'd ever known. He wanted to hit her, but boys couldn't hit girls. He wanted to tell her to go away, but he didn't even manage the words. He walked backward into his house and slammed the door in her face. He hoped she would take the hint and walk away. He wasn't going to explain to his parents what just happened between them. They would not be pleased. Founders were supposed to be the most welcoming people in town, they always said.
