Average Joe

I'm Going To Save Mickenzie..From Humiliation

"Micky?" I look at her, I'm worried about her a little.

If it had been anyone else the new girl had targeted I wouldn't have had an issue but Mickenzie has saved me twice now, it wouldn't be fair not to be a little nice to her.

"Yes, Joe," she looks down to hide the fact that she's crying.

This must be embarrassing for her. Crying in front of her crush.

"I don't know you're crying, don't worry," I blurt out.

Why did I do that? That was the exact opposite of what I wanted to do.

"Damn, you, writer." I whisper.

I see Mr.Ralph stop munching on his sandwich and look directly at me,"Don't do that boy, that's no good."

How did he even hear my whisper from all the way across the room?

This isn't the time for this, Mickenzie is crying.

"What I meant to say was, what nice orbs you have."

"You really think so?" she flutters her eye lashes a little to show off her brown eyes.

But all I can see is how red her face looks. This is bad.

"Yeah. Hey, I wanted to thank you for-" I get cut off by the girl in the tank top now.

"You're friends with this girl?" she put her finger in her mouth, pretending that she was about to throw up.

Oh no! I don't want her to think I'm as unpopular as Mickenzie.

"No, no, I don't even know her. Felt bad cuz she's crying."

This made Mickenzie let out a sob.

She turned to her imaginary friend," Do you still like me?"

After a split second she responded with,"Thank you."

"Well that's good then. I love compassionate boys." She turned around after playfully smiling at me.

Ok, this is bad. This is very bad. Mickenzie is still crying and I'm pretty much trying to get the number of the girl who made her so emotional in the first place. My goal was to thank Mickenzie.

"That's great and all but rude girls aren't my type."

I wish I didn't do that. I really would have liked to get this girl's number. So far she was flirting back too. It's not everyday you get the attention of someone who's just as good-looking as Brittney. Maybe, the writer will figure something out for me later. Maybe, this will all work out.

Mickenzie raises her head to look at me. I think she's starting to feel a little better.

"What did you say?" the rude brunette turns to me.

"Just that you're not my type. You're too rude."

"I heard you the first time. I thought you were smarter than this. You're losing your chance with me." Her jaw clenches ever so slightly.

"Why are you even in this story, the writer has already wrote one rude, pretty girl into this story? Teen-fiction doesn't have two of those. Where did you even come from, go back to your own book."

"Excusez-moi?" she tilts her head.

"Just mind your own business." I brush her off.

I hear her say something in the background but I drown her out.

Mickenzie!

"Micky, I wanted to thank you for saving my face in the gym yesterday. Oh and also for saving my in math class. Sorry, I got you in detention."

Mickenzie seems to have stopped crying. In fact, she seems to have seized any expression of emotions.

I'm worried that she's about to pass out, so I have my hand in front of her a couple of times.

"That is the first time you have ever spoken more than seven words to me, you know that?" she lets out a toothy smile.

I didn't actually know that but ok. She creeps me out some times with these fun facts but I understand. If I was an unpopular girl in teen fiction, I would probably be written like her too.

"Heh," I try to avoid the awkwardness," since you've saved me, I was wondering if you would like to go out sometime?"

And she fainted.

"You're asking her out?" the girl in front of me turns back around.

"Yes."

"Why would you pick her over me?" she asks.

"Writer made me."

I guess that's my answer for everything.

"Well, just in case you ever realize what a huge mistake you made for picking miss pasta over me, give me a call." She hands me a note with her number on it.

I'm not going to take that. I've just asked Mickenzie out, I can't already be taking other girls' numbers. I need to give Mickenzie a chance. She's been waiting for this as long as she's known me.

I'm about to crumple it put and throw it away but something seems to be stopping me.

The writer.

"Stop it writer, I need to stand up for Micky."

The girl in front of me makes a disgusted face and turns around again.

Reluctantly, I keep the note. But before I do, I see what's written on it.

The girl's name is Samantha.