The Bad Boy and the Nerd, Typical

Chapter Two: Amnesia

Mondays are not cool. Nope, not at all. But nor were Tuesdays, and usually not Wednesdays, but this Wednesday has become an exception.

Freedom, privacy, and just flat out relief flooded through me as my mom pulled out the driveway, barely giving me a wave. I leaned away from my window, a smile covering my face.

"Now, to sing at the top of my lungs because no one can hear me," I smirked, turning up my music.

"Here I am once again, I am torn into pieces. Can't deny it, can't pretend!" I belt out to Kelly Clarkson.

God, I love her music.

"Cause I can't breathe, cause I can't sleep. I am barely holding on!"

Yup, I am in love.

Finding it in me to laugh at myself, I jogged down the stairs, the music still somewhat heard from my room.

"I don't cry on the outside anymore," I hummed softly, pouring myself some hot tea. Putting some sugar and very few drops of honey in the tea, I sipped the scolding liquid.

Today was slightly cold, nipping at my skin due to a jet stream pull from Japan. Damn those polar easterlies.

"You made me feel alright for once in my life, now that's all left of me, is what I used to be. Sewn together though broken up inside," I mumbled between sips.

I sat down on my couch, no homework to do since I normally finish it in class or during lunch or something. This became boring very fast.

I need friends. No I don't. Please, you most definitely do.

Eh, I don't mind being alone sometimes.

Thursday is currently on the table, and I have cut it in half. So in other words, it is lunch time.

Wesley had left me alone for the most part, sneering words under his breath before gathering his stuff stiffly and leaving. But, to him, Thursday is his 'be spontaneous day' or something along those lines because he just slammed his hands flat in front of me, the sound clapping through the empty library.

"Kayla," he hissed, eyes glaring into mine.

"Yes?" I questioned, tilting my head slightly to the side, "do you need help getting our head in the right position out of your a**? Because I think you need to get that pole out first."

"Bitch," he snapped.

"I am not a dog, and besides, I don't have a tail, sorry, lost it in the fetus. I can clearly see you didn't," I said pointing to the toilet paper sticking out of the pocket of his pants. His cheeks flushed red in anger and embarrassment as he crumpled it and threw it on the ground under his foot.

"Listen slut-"

"My room is perfectly clean."

"Oh my god, shut up!" he growled loudly.

"Praying can't help you," I shrugged. I kept my face the same as always. When saying sorry, I put on a realistic apology face. When I corrected him, I had folded my hands over one another.

See, I am classy.

"You know what, I am done with you!"

"I did figure that much," I smiled politely, "have a nice day, Weasel-Dog."

He sneered at me, glaring stiffly, and leaving the library. None of his groupies followed him in, so he left alone- taking the ignorance filling the room with him.

It felt good to actually get him mad to the point of his face blistering red.

The next day was Friday, and as much as I hate to say it, my day was just awful.