I Speak Fluent Sarcasm

Chapter Nine

Before I begin this chapter, we both would like to say sorry! We haven't updated for ages and are both having the hard time communicating with each other. So the time table for this book and its updates may be it a bit wobbly...anyway let's begin this story!

*Jacks POV*

"Lissa!" I grab the sarcastic queens arm and grip tightly. She turns around and moans. "What do you want?"

"Me? Did you hand in our history project?" I ask her curiously.

You see, me and Aylisa haven't been talking for a while. I think it's because of that incident at her parents house, I don't know.

"You mean, our history project that I on my own made?" She spat.

"That would be it." I nod thoughtfully.

"Well, babe,I handed my own one in." She grins.

I release my grip. "Your an idiot." I inform her. "Honey, look in the mirror. Actually please don't. It will crack and I don't want glass in my eyes." She said with a slight hint of laughter, and she walks off down the hall.

That-that.. Oh who am I kidding?

Myself? No.

Anyone? I hope so.

I still love her. I don't know how, it's been like a month now, and we have done lots of history projects together but.. My messed up brain and I still love her.

Is it the way she walks? I don't know. I notice every little thing and I hate her.

I notice when she smiles, her teeth glisten. When she is nervous she click her tongue against her teeth, when she is impatient she taps her long, clean nails on the desk.

And I also don't just notice, but know, she thrives in sarcasm. She can't last even thirty seconds without it.

I notice the way her dyed brown hair curls a little, how she can always blow massive bubbles with her gum.

"Ok, class. New month, new seats." Everybody groans. Right now I have an empty desk in history, seeing as Aylisa moved up a class a week ago.

"But first, Master Charming is in Class 1 now. You will be setting next to Miss Leeton." Sir says.

I roll my eyes, for gods sake. But maybe we can get close again?

Shut up, Jack. You have a girlfriend.

I grab my bag and walk out the room, along the corridor to my new class. I text Chelsea.

"Nd 2 tlk. Important. C u ltr." I send shortly, with no kisses.

With no kisses.

And I finally realised what the text I just sent means.

My heart wants it, and so do I.

I'm going to dump Chelsea.

*Aylisa's POV*

I walk home angrily. Yet again, I have to sit next to that Jack.

This is going to sound stupid but I liked him, I did. Then I heard him taking the nick out of mental health issues and I could just...kill him.

"Hey, honey! Your home!" My mum smiles happily. Thank god, she is in a good mood.

"I didn't know this was mars..." I stick my tongue out and cross my eyes. My mum taps her head.

"A nutter, you are. Absolutely craycray."

This leaves us in an awkward moment of silence. My mum scratches the back of her neck and leans against the counter.

"School good?" She asks hopefully.

"Amazing. I want to move in." I sighed sarcastically, placing my bag on my sofa.

"Honey, baby, are you ok?" My mum asks worryingly.

"No I am Aylisa, why?" I reply.

"Your Sarcasm hasn't been up to your usual standards. I understand when your being sarcastic, baby." She tells me.

"Cathy-" this gains me a glare.

"Mum," I begin. She nods and I carry on.

I tell her my plan and she nods her head happily and says it's a great prank. She said I will forever be her sarcastic prankster queen, and it's about time this town knows it to.

I kiss her cheek and rush upstairs and grab my diary.

Well, my old one, because my recent one is still missing. Oh well, I will find it.

Dear Diary,

I have a plan beyond all plans.
Something you could say will either tear down or boost my street cred.

I'm getting back in the prank style, baby.

I know that thing happened at the old school, but no one will ever find out, it's all safe in my recent diary. Not that I know where that is. Mum probably hoovered it up or something. It was small.

Diary, what does love feel like? I have asked you this question ever since I was six, but that seriously doesn't count. My pathetic crush on George Shelley does not count.

Though to be fair, George Shelley was fit to a six to twelve year old.

Anyway, back to my plan.

I am going to do the worst trick ever. But, of course the best. Well the best tricks. Make sure you look at that 's'.

Head teacher, Jack, Chelsea, class mates...Try me now, bishhhhh.

Ok heyyy! Author here! Sorry the sarcasm will get better! Comment vote and yeh! Thanks for being #101 in Humor.