Chapter 11: Pfft, She's No Nowhere Near Ladylike

41 10 56
                                    

"So, what do you want?" I ask in frustration while staring at the brat who thinks smoking is a cool enough concept to execute; not a course of action that will inevitably lead to permanently damaged lungs.

Honestly, they need to rethink their life decisions.

"What's with that way of speaking?" one of their underlings scowled as they took a step toward me. "Who do you think you're talking to, huh?!" By now, their face was mere inches from mine. If they hadn't leaned back, I'm certain their spit would have landed on my cheeks.

"This is the high and mighty Diane Andrada!" And then she went on to spout whatever nonsensical statements they think I'd gladly spend a single watt of my energy listening to. What a waste of oxygen. Basically, the gist is, that this Diane girl is supposed to be some kind of cool person — AKA bully  — that they believe should be worshiped. Apparently, my being not showing some respect offends them so much they might as well behead me for such an atrocity.

Who do these kids think they are anyway? The Tokyo Manji Gang?

"Fear me!"

Huh?

Did this kid even hear herself? Does she not cringe at the thought of having the body of a senior high school student but being mentally six?

Is life playing some sort of joke on me today? First, Lucas's attention-deprived cousin, and now this? Seriously? I just want to go home and sleep.

The smell of her cigarette had undoubtedly already lingered in the air, but the location completely encased the substances within the vicinity, forcing all six of us into the same faith. To inhale this abominable air. It was not a pleasant experience. Though none of her lackeys seemed to possess enough courage to even so much as raise a complaint. After all, a narrow alley was the perfect place to perform whatever society deemed morally invalid.

Textbook material, yet conveniently effective no matter the era. Heck, crimes committed under such circumstances far exceed the average person's expectations.

"Were you even paying attention?!"

No, I was not.

My capabilities never went beyond having a short attention span. In fact, even my moodiness extends to my reading, going as far as dropping a book for the most random reason out there. Therefore, it did not surprise me anymore when my mind could no longer focus on the events transpiring before me.

Nevertheless, one thing did plague me. The sickening smell of cigarettes.

It only got worse when Ms. Diane Andrada proceeded to stand up from her high and mighty seat — AKA a wooden box just randomly lying around — and decided to inch closer to me. "What are you thinking?!"

"Nothing, it's just that," I casually stated, gazing up at the sky, "if you get lung cancer, I'll visit you at the hospital."

Frankly, that wasn't a smart move. Because it earned me a vicious punch in the face. A punch that I could have evaded if exhaustion didn't get in the way.

Well, at least, now my nose can't smell the cigarettes anymore. Since it's now broken and bleeding; blood literally oozing from it.

It's not over yet though. She skillfully grabs my collar before my head hits the ground. However, she's no knight in shining armor. Nor does she have the phenomenal beauty of a Prince Charming that girls swoon over. "I don't know where you get the audacity, but you need to put it back!" That's supposed to be my line.

Regrettably, there was no escaping anymore. Silly me, that was already obvious from the start.

Very well. I accept my tragic fate.

The Nerd in the CornerWhere stories live. Discover now