Denton the Heartthrob

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I waited a few seconds, not wanting to run into Heller after that awkward moment. What was that even about? What has he been through that his first instinct is to fight? I suddenly became very nervous for him. I shook off the feeling, walking out to my car. Dylan was blaring music, leaning on the car, talking to some pretty girls about my car.

As I was walking to the car, I didn't even look at the group of hormone-induced teenagers as I said, "Dylan get off my car, ladies, please move, and Dylan, don't blare the music." I paused in my walking, turning to face the jaw-dropped girls and annoyed boy. I walked closer to Dylan, gripping his collar even though it was half a foot above me. "And if you lean on my car and make a scratch on my baby's paint, I'll make a scratch on you," I said, my eyes narrowed and my voice deadly. He gulped, nodding.

I let him go and wiped the feeling of touching someone off on my jeans. "Well, do you want to stop by the store and pick cookies up or something?" I asked, getting in the car. I turned down the radio and started the engine. It made the teenage girls jump even though it had a muffler on it.

"Well, that's my cue, ladies," Dylan spoke smoothly. I mentally rolled my eyes. They swooned as they all said bye, walking off.

Dylan entered the car, a smug smile on his face. "They dig me."

I scoffed. "Okay."

We drove to the store, picking up some cookies. We argued a bit, because Dylan wanted chocolate chip and I wanted sugar. I told him to pay for it if he wanted it, so he did. We happily munched on our treats in the car, him chatting about random subjects. I just devoured each morsel of the cookie.

Driving to Dylan's house, I dropped him off. His mom was outside tending to the garden.

"Oh, hi Wisconsin!" she called to me, waving crazily.

"Hi," I said quietly and giving an awkward smile.

"Why don't you come in sweetheart?"

I shrugged. "Okay."

I parked the car and Dylan and I went up to his room to play video games. Texting my parents I was at his house, we began the massacre of video games. I lost awfully, as usual. A few times I have won the battles against him, but not too often does that occur. After about an hour, I decided I should head home and do some homework.

Dylan walked me downstairs.

"Leaving so soon?"

I turned to the pretty blonde. "Yes, ma'am. I have some homework I need to do," I said, looking at the ground. Geez, I am so bad in social situations.

"Alright, sweety. Dylan, walk her out."

"I am, Ma!"

"Don't back talk me, young man!"

"I wasn't back talking you, I was just- ugh," he groaned, dragging his hand down his face. "C'mon, Wisc." Dylan lightly touched my back, making me jerk into motion. We walked onto the front porch closing the front door behind us. "That woman irritates me sometimes," he grumbled.

"Yeah, well I'm sure you irritate her too."

"Whatever," he mumbled. "So, are you-" I gasped loudly, jumping behind Dylan. "What's your problem?" he asked, looking around. I clung tightly to his shirt. "Oh," he said. I could practically here the smirk in his voice. "Denton!"

The muscly, jogging, boy stopped. "Oh, hey man!" He started walking this way. Why was I cursed with knowing Dylan Michaels?! "Nice ride! When'd you get it?"

"Oh, this isn't my car. It's," he pushed me in front of him, "hers."

Denton looked shocked for a moment that another person was present. He soon smiled at me though. "Wisc! This is yours?!"

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