Chapter Six

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Chapter Six



Veronica and I don't get to speak much as we continue through our punishment. Well my punishment since it seems like Veronica is enjoying what she's doing. For me it's just a constant cycle of throw, get laughed at, throw again, and try not to get hit in the face when they toss it back.

Afterwards, Veronica and I walk side by side down the track with our school supplies in hand. My shoulder bag holds two textbooks, a binder, and everything I could possibly need. My main binder is in my hands. Veronica however just carries a pencil and notebook. How did she get everything done in class?!

"Mother's going to be upset when she looks at me," I mutter, mostly to myself, but Veronica looks up.

"You call your mom 'mother'?" She asks amused like the concept is foreign to her.

"Yeah, what do you call yours?" I ask back. Veronica's brown eyes look away from me but there's a smile on her face. It's off-putting.

"The football team loves you, you know," she says. I roll my eyes. Yeah, I'm so sure. The entire time they were making fun if me. "I'm serious! They only called you Marcel like-"

"A dozen times," I mutter. We head towards the parking lot where only a couple cars remain. I walk towards mine and take my keys out of my pocket.

"No way!" Veronica yells suddenly when I stick my key in the door. "This is your car?! I always wondered whose it was!" She looks it and whistles. "God, you're such a dork."

"Dork?" A whale's penis? Why am I dork?

"Not the penis definition of a dork, Harry. But seriously, look at your fucking car. Batman?! Batman. Harry, BAT MAN?!" She exclaims, saying the word slowly like I don't comprehend. I push my glasses up my nose and shrug. I like batman.

My black Cadillac that I received from my father as a birthday present one year, completely random, has been remodeled to look like the batmobile. Not an exact replica but I felt pride for my car. The way Veronica laughs at it though makes me want to rip the features away.

"I didn't even think you'd have a car," she mutters when she's done inspecting it.

"Every one has cars. Just because I'm a 'nerd' means I shouldn't have a car?" I feel a little rude saying it but I feel offended that she would think I'm not cool enough to have a car. Sure it was a lot of work to beg my to let me keep it, but even she agreed that this was necessary for me to get places without her.

Veronica holds up her hands. "Woah, slow down, Harry. I didn't say that. I was just pointing out that it's a little shocking."

Right. I open my door. "Well I'm going home now. Bye." I get in my car and place my items gently in the passenger seat so they won't fall when I drive.

Veronica bends over and taps on the passenger's window. I peak at the place where her shirt dangles off her skin, exposing cleavage.

Don't do that. That's rude, I scorn myself and force myself to meet her eyes.

I roll down the window and she leans in. "What?" I ask.

"Do you realize you're rude sometimes or do you think everyone pities you because you're picked on?" Her question shocks me. Rude? I'm rude? "Don't look at me all innocent. You're rude and I'm not up for that shit. You will treat me like an equal because I, unlike everyone at this goddamn school, try to treat you like a normal human being."

I stare dumbfounded at her once again and I'm never taken aback by anyone. No one shocks me. Every day it's the same routine of just trying to survive the torture. And yet here she is, saying that I don't realize the quality of someone being nice.

"I'm not trying to be rude," I fix my glasses, hating that they constantly slide down my face. I want to remove my tie from around my neck. Right now it feels like a noose.

"Well you need to try a little damn harder. What are you doing tonight?" I try to gauge her face to see if she's possibly joking. "Well?" She prompts impatiently.

"It's Monday," I state.

"And?" I look at confused.

"I've got some studying to do." Doesn't she as well? She had to take classes right?

Veronica suddenly reaches inside and unlocks the door, sitting down in my car. She doesn't even move my books before sitting. "Wait! My calculator," I exclaim, thinking about how crushed it could end up.

Veronica reaches below her and pulls out my shoulder bag. "Holy shit, what the hell do you have in here?! A ton of bricks?" She groans and tosses my bag into the back. I almost squeal when she does the same with my binder, but the papers stay inside thankfully.

"What are you doing?!" I've never had a girl sit in my car. I feel awkward.

"Relax would you? I only came in here because you started putting that damn key in and out in and out as if getting ready to bolt out of here." I didn't even realize I had been doing that. It must be my natural instinct to flee. As of right now all I want is to go home.

Veronica shifts in her seat and pulls out her box of cigarettes. My eyes widen when she pulls out the lighter.

"You can't smoke in here!"

She turns to me lazily, an unlit cigarette between her fingers. "And why not?" Her brown eyes flash with something...challenge?

"It's bad for your health," I say pathetically. I don't want to have to explain that if I show up at home smelling like a cigarette, that I'll get in trouble.

"Let's go do something fun tonight," Veronica twists in the seat to look at me, a grin on her face.

Fun? With Veronica? What?

"It's a school night!" I protest, sounding like a child even in my ears.

Veronica sighs and props her feet on my dashboard, her converse knocking dirt everywhere. My insides churn. That mess. I'll have to clean it up later.

"Can you try to talk a little slower? And tune your voice down. You're all squeaky and gerbil sounding like you're hyped up on helium. It's so fucking annoying," she mutters and I feel the pink in my cheeks start up. I talk annoyingly? The free use of bad words from her makes her more attractive and captivating.

Wait, attractive? Did I just call her attractive?

My pants start feeling tight and I squeal, reaching backwards to grab my binder. I start rifling through it quickly as if looking for something. I peak up at Veronica who's still got the unlit cigarette in her fingers.

"I need you to get out of my car," I say and she turns to me, her eyebrows arched in amusement. "Please," I add.

Veronica drops her feet back to the floor and nods. "Alright, I will. On a couple conditions." Conditions? What could she be proposing?

"Okay?"

"One, you start fucking talking in a voice that matches your age. Slower and deeper." Dirty images cross my mind that I didn't even know I was capable of. I shift again, holding my binder down against my pants. This is so embarrassing.

"Ooookaaaaay, liiiiiiiiiiiiike thiiiiiiissss?" I drop my voice and lengthen out my words. Her nose instantly crinkles.

"Ew, god no not like that. You sound retarded. We can work on that a different day."

"Different day?! There won't be another day if I'm not home in a couple minute. Mother will-"

Veronica lifts her hand up to cut my babble off. She rubs at her temples. "Goodness, do you see what I mean about your IMATALKLIKETHISANDKILLEVERYONESEARDRUMS!" She yells in a high pitch voice, blending every word together. I cover my ears, my eyes wide with how freaked out I feel. "So you understand how goddamn fucking annoying you sound!"

I feel offended but I nod anyways. I just have to get home. My body has thankfully relaxed itself once again. It might be her awful impersonation of me.

"Okay okay, what's number two?" I ask, making sure to speak slower and lower. It's a little bit of work but Veronica beams me a smile.

"See! That wasn't that hard was it? You sound attractive as hell when you talk like that." She seems so comfortable complimenting me but I feel awkward by her words.

"Okay, two?" I repeat.

Veronica just smiles at me and gets out of the car. It's so sudden that I'm a little hurt she finds the need to leave so quickly. She leans down and puts her arms on the open window.

"There is no two yet. That's the beauty of life, Harry. It will come in time," she winks before turning and walking away.

I watch after her as she gets into a simple blue car. It will come in time. Does that mean she plans on hanging around me again?

The thought is weird in my mind. No one hangs around the first time. For there to be a second? Foreign concept.

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