Jesse's Girl

Chapter 13

     Was I infuriated at his persistence? But of course – every sane person is. Had I developed into an over thinking maniac because of him? Yes. Was I shocked that he spread such an immature rumor? No, mostly because he admitted he was desperate. And desperate times, call for desperate measures – or so I’ve heard.

    And I knew it seemed as if I was in denial, and maybe I was – who knows? But I honestly didn’t like him – the creative yet deadly stick figures proved it.

    After a while though, I appeared to have simmered down. But the looks I was receiving from my fellow classmates – unsurprisingly, mostly girls – were only putting a strain in my mood. The glances weren’t ones of jealousy, as I expected, but rather more of ‘wow, she actually said yes’ ones. But in my defense, he never even gave me a chance or opening to refuse.

    I could have been talking to a rock for all the progress I was making.

    But now, after Jesse did indeed spread the silly moronic rumor – more and more girls seemed to want to talk to me. And after a few classes, my patience wasn’t satisfied.

        “So…did you go out with him yet?”

    My trademark annoyed gaze drifted to a girl beside me. I was more than sure she’s dated Jesse before.

        “No.”

    She smiled slightly and nodded to herself. “Did you kiss him yet?”

        “No.”

        “Did he tell you he loved you yet?”

    My fist balled up, as always. I looked at her again, seeing a smile appear on her face as if she only asked intentionally. I could have chosen to be at peace and endure her interrogation, but a comeback I was too selfish to hide came out before I could contain it. “What part of your relationship did he tell you? Before or after he broke it off?”

    Her eyes widened, before she rolled her eyes and turned to the front.

    I was beginning to like being convoluted for the better cause.

   When the bell eventually rang, I knew today was going by slower than I ever could have imagined. It felt as if I had been asleep all day, and finally gathered the strength to wake up.

    I glanced at my locker as I passed it – and decided I made enough stops at it today, so I kept on walking on. Due to the strands of hair falling in my face, I got annoyed once again, and reached into my pocket for a band – lifting my thin hair into a messy ponytail.

    That was until I heard a high pitch giggle in the hall.

    And my hair fell back down my shoulders.

    I glared at the janitor’s closet, with despise and aggravation. What I desired to do was barge in and attack. But before I could shoulder the door, another laugh filled the hall. What was he doing in there?

    Not even a day ‘pretending’ and he’s off having a good time? What a joke.

    I shook my head and turned around – only to jump with a scream, making my stuff fall to the floor.

    I looked up, and rolled my eyes. “Dammit Jesse.”

    While I gathered my things, I saw Jesse had kneeled down in front of me also – with a paper that he had picked up in his hand. I paid him no mind, until I saw the familiar bewildered expression cross his face – making him back up a little to see the paper as a whole.

    His eyes met mine. “I think I underestimated you.”

    He flipped the paper over so I could see it, and on it, was the ever so fabulous stick figures of him. The one he had saw was the one where I tied him above a tank of sharks. Not my best way of trying to be sane, I admit.

    I reached to snatch the paper away from him, but he held it backwards so all I did was stumble on my knees like a klutz. “Give it.”

    He shook his head, a smirk on his lips. “I think I might keep this…frame it or something – I never had a person killing me in drawings before.”

    I picked up my things more quickly, and stood up, but stopped when another peculiar noise came from the janitor’s closet again. Jesse’s gaze passed me and stayed glued on the door for a short moment.

        “Whose in there?” I asked.

        “A friend of mine,” he said, putting a hand on my arm – leading me away when there was another noise. “Dylan.”

     Well, that was mature. School was for learning, not a fantasy getaway to hide in closets and do God knows what.

    We went through the barely occupied halls, so that we wouldn’t get bumped around in the bunch. After we passed a few classes, I glanced at him – not feeling completely comfortable at his eerie silence.

        “I don’t think I can go through with this.”

    Annoyance crossed his features when he glanced at me. “I thought we passed this.”

    I stopped walking. “No, we didn’t. You never even listened to me.”

    He stopped also, and crossed his arms in front of me. “I’m listening.”

        “Remember when I said I couldn’t be seen with you?”

        “Yes…”

    The stern look I gave him wasn’t faltering at his stance or expression – much less his impatience. “I meant it.”

    He scoffed, shockingly amused. “Whatever, Carson.” As he started to walk away, I shot him looks as if I was planning to knife him then and there.  

        “Don’t walk away from me, dammit.”

        “Then keep up and walk with me.”

    I hesitated, eying him doubtfully, and walked up beside him. As we walked again, I was beginning to grow extremely worried at his silence. It just wasn’t his usual self; I mean, by now he would have been making me want to pull my hair out.

    When we neared my class, I finally heard his voice.

        “Would you not punch me, if I asked you something?”

         “Depends," I said, shrugging.

        “There’s a carnival today…”

    I narrowed my eyes at him.

        “And as my loving caring girlfriend—”

        “I’m not your girlfriend.”

    He sighed, frustrated again. “Just go with me. Please?”

        “No.”

        “Please, Carson? Please?”

    I shook my head and turned for the classroom door – but an arm suddenly came in front of me, the palm of his hand against the lockers.

    My eyes turned hateful, and I looked at him again. “I have an education to maintain.”

        “I have a carnival to attend,” he countered.

    A plan that I knew would save me took precedence. “I’ll go, but not as your girlfriend.”

    He dropped his arm. “Good enough for me.”

    Slowly, I inched away and ran into class, leaving him there.

    He thought I was going, and I knew it was harsh and cruel, but I was ditching him. Carnivals weren't my thing.

     They used to be, but a day on the ferris wheel had drove me insane. 

     Heights and I weren't the best of friends.