2 - Chemistry Buds

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The bell rang for the last class of the day. Classes, and lunch times, had been fine, actually, if any of the students in them had witnessed the events of the morning, they seemed to have forgotten.

I claimed the window seat of the second row on the left side of the room, and started drawing peace signs on the front of my book while I waited for class to begin.

My eyes instinctively went to the door as I heard it open and hit the wall. And guess who made their way through the door? Steven Talla-what's-his-name, followed by Joe and Brad.

I rolled my eyes shut and put my face in my hands. But I had to open them again when I heard Steven scoff. All three of them were looking at me and they made their way over. Steven put his hands apart on the bench and leaned in.

"So, I have Chemistry with Miss Jade," he said in a low voice.

"Seems that way," I retorted.

"Let's make the most of it then," he said with a sarcastically friendly smile. He straightened up and sat on the stool right next to me, nearly crowding me to the wall.

"Why not sit with your groupies?" I asked, annoyed, and stood up to change spots, but as I looked around I saw that there were no free spots. I was forced to sit next to Steven, who had a smug look on his face.

He was just plain irritating throughout the entire lesson. He'd tap his pen on my book, leaving ink marks all over it, he'd use the bench as a drum kit, he even fell asleep with his arms sprawled across my space. Ugh!

I stormed down the hall after class to my locker. I only relaxed when I finally left the school grounds. I had a horribly drawn mud map to find my way home, and thankfully that wasn't too far away.

"Hey, Jade!" I heard a distinct voice call out to me. I closed my eyes in frustration and kept walking.

"Jaaaade," Steven repeated as he jumped in front of me.

"Yes?" I said through clenched teeth and a fake smile.

"I was wondering," he said, as he walked backwards in front of me, "did you dye your hair after your name?" he asked me in a failed Australian accent.

"My hair's turquoise, not jade, you prick," I answered.

"Ooh, ouch," Steven said and held his hand to his chest. "Why the name calling?"

"You are a prick, no other word for it." I replied. "Wait, there are a few other words for it - idiot, asshole, dickhead..."

"And we have a fuckin' smartass," he announced with a mean look. "Come on, we've known each other a day and they're the names you have for me?"

I didn't answer him because I was too pissed off at him.

"I asked you something," he said and stopped his backwards walking, making me run into him.

"You're just a dick," I mumbled.

"What's that?" he asked. "She wants my dick?"

Steven grabbed my waist, picked me up and flung me over his shoulders.

"What the hell? Put me down, you asshole!" I shouted. When he didn't, I kicked at him, but he just held my legs to his body. He was pretty strong for a skinny thing.

"Steven! Let go of me!" After about a street length of being carried half upside down and punching his back, he finally put me back on the ground.

"Why the protest?" he asked casually.
I just looked at him with my mouth open in disbelief.

"Why the protest, he asks. Are you kidding me? You just fucking picked me up and carried me a street length!" I yelled at him.

"Ooh, and she swears, too! Naughty young girl," he poked my nose.

"You're a fricking idiot," I said and continued on my way home, not looking back.

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