We the Weirdos

Chapter Ten

"HEY! RYAN, GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME! I CAN WALK BY MYSELF, THANK YOU VERY MUCH," I yelled at him while shoving him away.

His tag read "Martin." Either his mom was too annoyed by him and wouldn't give him a last name or he forgot to write it, because the name was missing. I didn't want to know his last name, either. He's the stupid guy with the "old wrinkly hands" or whatever Lysander said. At least he's less of an idiot than Marcus or whatever is.

I looked out the window, wondering why I was in a police car. I didn't want to ask Martin. He didn't seem all that friendly, with his old wrinkly hands.

Did they make a new law that citizens weren't allowed to buy Goldfish and Cheeze-its? One I've never heard of, apparently. A store that was a perfectly fine place made to sell stuff. Pointless laws? I see, I see.

I actually hoped the idiot got out alive. And not end up on death row for whatever he did. Even if he's a stupid guy- he deserves a life, you know? He got me out of my loneliness (sorry, Arianna).

I'm sure you guys want to know why I'm not worried about Lysander being a criminal.

I'm not worried because I'm pretty sure the idiot couldn't even pull off taking my pencil when I wasn't looking. Sorry, Lysander, but it's the truth. The sad, sad truth, I mean.

"So... how are you doing today?" Martin asked.

"Aren't you supposed to not talk in the car?" I asked.

"It's texting." He said, and he was getting annoyed. I simply wanted to test his patience. And make him explode. It'll be a bonus if he gets fired. Being a policeman ain't a small job.

"...Whatever. But if you crash into a pole or a tree (I'd prefer a tree), just remember there's actually a human being in the backseat. And you'll probably face the wrath of my parents. And their parents' friends' grandsons' daughters' aunt's nephew's stuffed animal named Pillow. If you're lucky, everyone in between as well." I smiled.

"But there aren't any trees or poles on the way there." He said, pretending to be stupid. Oh, wait. He doesn't have to pretend. He is stupid.

"Do we live in a desert or something? Of course there are trees!" I said.

He put on an innocent face. "Oh, really? I didn't know that. But there aren't any poles." He said.

"Of course there are poles! We don't live in the darkest city in the world. And where do you think your wifi comes from? Do you actually think we lived in a desert? If so, you should consider going back to kindergarten. Your teacher would be so disappointed in you." I roasted him. I think I did a good job.

He gritted a smile. "I'm sorry, miss. So, let me ask you one more time, how are you today?"

So he's not giving up. What's fueling him? The evil dark poop inside him instead of a heart? Maybe he's possessed. At least I can die knowing I met someone possessed. Even though they'd probably kill me by crashing into a stupid tree or pole, thinking it was the police station's parking lot.

He's saying it like my life depends on this question. Is it that important? Why do I have to respond to it? Ugh, maybe I'll regret being nice. I always did before...

"Do you want the truth or not?" I asked, bored.

"Of course." He said in a tune I didn't want to describe. Flirt? Eww. No.

If I was the one driving him, I would've crashed into a tree a long time ago.

"Truth? Oh, you asked for it. You've ruined it now that I've seen your face today." I snapped. Hah. In your face. It's the truth.