If You Think I'm Gonna Come Up With A Title For This, You're Dead Wrong

Chapter 15

"So then I was like, 'Screw you, man, you don't know me.' Because he was being a dick."

You nod, taking another sip from your straw. "So he was."

"Well," Casey continues, gesturing with his pizza slice, "that's why he gave me a black eye on the ice. And now Annie won't talk to me."

With a sigh, you reach up, wincing slightly as the muscles in your back crack. "Well," you smile tiredly, "that does sound like a predicament. Want me to try talking to her?"

"Nah." He leans against his hand, taking a bite of his food. "It's whatever. Didn't like her, anyway."

You smirk. "Bullshit."

"Smartass." He rolls his busted eyes. "How's your boyfriend?"

"Nonexistent."

"Bullshit," he mimics. "Isn't he all over you?"

"Hardly." You wave your hand dismissively. "'Sides, he doesn't want a relationship, I bet."

"You slept together." He swallows. "You slept together and he didn't make a pass at you."

"What does that prove?" You take another drink. "Just because he or I want it to happen doesn't mean that it should."

"Bullshit," he sings once more. "You're just scared of commitment, I bet."

Your face flushes. "That's not it!"

"Then why not ask him?"

"Look," you fumble for an excuse that was not 'He's a ninja,' "he's really busy, what with his sports and science stuff. I'm lucky he has time for me at all; what we have is fine until things calm down a bit with him."

"So never."

"Pretty much."

Another bite. "If he's so smart, won't he be going off to Harvard or some shit? Shoot your shot."

"Who are you to give me relationship advice?" You push him, placing your hand on the pizza box between you on the bench. "You just fucked up with Johanna."

"Maybe the reason you two are still virgins is that you're both smartasses."

"We're like fifteen!" You laugh. "What, you're a lady killer now?"

"Hey, I've made my rounds." He grins. "You know the blond chick? Jenny?"

You stick your tongue out at him. "She is completely out of your league, Jones," you huff. "Know your place."

"And she's in yours?"

"Did I say that?" You take another sip. "No, I did not."

He sighs. "I'm gonna set you up."

You blink at this sudden change in subject matter. "Huh?"

"There's this guy on the team who has a thing for you." He takes another bite of his pizza. "I promised I'd try."

"Out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Surprisingly, yes." He leans back on the bench, head flopping back. "We've been buddies for a while."

Your eyes trace the cracks in the pavement carelessly, weighing your options. "Where?"

"I'm looking for a yes or no."

You fiddle with your collar. "Which guy?"

"Carter from bio."

With bright green eyes, long black hair, you can hardly describe him as ugly. A bit pompous, but not irredeemably so. The idea of going on a date with another man-- another human, no less-- is hardly unappealing, especially given the fact that you are almost completely certain that whatever you have going on between yourself and Donatello is going to go exactly nowhere. It would be nice, you know, to go out to lunch or dinner with a pretty boy.