Chapter 9
I have heard before that I am mean, emotionless, impassive, cruel, but sometimes it’s not my fault. Let’s take lunch period as an example. I had bought fries, mashed potatoes, wantons and juice for lunch and decided to sit with my brother. Liam had apparently become rather popular since he came to the school from his sporting skills and sat among the ‘popular kids’. I was there, minding my own business when Xavier screamed from across the cafeteria,
“Cute girl!” I didn’t look up. The jerk knew my name, he could have called me by it. He did, of course. He walked straight to where I was sitting, stared at Blondie then said to me,
“I’ll wait for you after school.” Then he left.
If you can remember, there was once a blonde girl who I maintained self-control for way back in the beginning, her name was Lisa. Lisa Williams. The dumb blonde who nearly caused my death. Since we haven’t had one in a while, I’ll give lesson number six, ‘If a blonde bimbo pisses you off on the first day of school, punch her in the face and make her cry, otherwise she’s going to screw with you till you’re dead. Literally.’ I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, so we’ll go back to the cafeteria.
When Xavier left, Lisa turned to glare at me.
“Why are you here, freak?” She said. The café was silent now and everyone was watching. Yet again, I showed self-control and ignored her.
“So, why is the new guy waiting for you after school? You screwing him too?”” She asked. Liam was about to stand but I shoved him down and took my place up in front of her.
“You have no idea who you’re messing with, baby junkie.” I hissed. “I could snap you in two."
“Do you really want to fight me little girl?” She jeered. I shook my head and rolled my eyes.
“I don’t fight with idiots. They bring you down to their level and then beat you with experience.” I said shaking my head. I picked up an asparagus from Liam’s plate and bit it. Lisa laughed. The kind of laugh you get from those stereotypical old hag witches, and then at that moment, I realised that she was starting to piss me off. Picking up my plate, I attempted to leave.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, then the poor little tramp made the mistake to grab my arm. In a single motion, I kicked backwards, sending her flying then I picked up the mashed potatoes and flung it in her face. Questioning my reasons for wasting such precious mashed potatoes, I walked out of the cafeteria, ensuring that there were no teachers around. I had already filled up my two detentions for the week already.
When I saw that the coast was clear, I made my way to the tree that I had fallen out of earlier and plopped down.
“Fighting in school is prohibited, cute girl.” Xavier said sitting next to me and I flipped out. I guess everything that had happened in the past four days had finally caught up whit my mental stability, which wasn’t so stable if you ask me, and I had finally lost it. I threw a wanton at Xavier’s head then started to shout at him.
“What the hell do you want from me? What’s wrong with you people? Can’t you just leave me alone?” I cried out. For reasons currently figured out as an emotional breakdown, tears were flowing from my eyes.
“I didn’t ask for this… whatever the hell it is! It’s that god damned cat’s fault!” I was punching him now and he was just sitting there taking it. He was so quiet that I stopped, getting scared.
“You done?” he asked, his voice void of any emotion. I nodded slowly.
“Good.” He said, “Where to now?” I shrug.
“Don’t you have class?” I asked him and he snorted.
“Like I go to that shit.” He said then stood up and looked at me. “Don’t get to attached to me, K. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a nice guy.” And with that, he walked away.
Delicate much?
I got up and went to Algebra for first period, only to realise that I still hadn’t finished my homework.
The teachers of Trinity Cross High have an obsession. Yes, that’s the best thing that I can call it. An obsession. A neurotic fixation on giving me detention. Ok, so I didn’t do all of my homework, and ok, I was a bit passionate about the fact that this guy in class thought that Black Ops was better than C.O.D and hence I had to give him an in depth reasoning behind the fact that Call of Duty is eternal awesome, resulting in most of the guys in the class joining in the discussion, and I understand that maybe I might have been the instigator of a partial fight over which was better over the Monte Carlo ’78 and the ’63 Chevrolet Impala SS, and I might have thrown a calculator at Lisa’s head when she rolled eyes at me and called me a retard, but come on, detention after school for the rest of the week, and Saturday!
Alright, so when I look back at it now, it is kind of bad, but still, detention on a Saturday?
No.
I walked out of class with a scowl on my face.
“Hey, purple girl.” Someone said, I turned to see the guy who decided that Black Ops was ‘better’ than Call of Duty.
“Hmm.” I said or asked.
“Yeah, hey, I was just wondering if…”
“Dude, talk quickly, I have Literature.”
“So do I. I’ll walk you.” I raised an eyebrow and stared at the guy. Then, in a slow, calm manner, the way one would be with a suicide patient, I asked him,
“Why?”
“Because I want to.” He said I stared at the guy like he was on crack. Was it something in the water in this school? I looked over his head. May 6th 2094, 12:04:38.
Dude.
No.
“Uh huh, and you want to do this because…” I asked him. I stood there wondering where this guy was going with all of this. I mean, honestly, I was just, five minutes ago, threatening to put his head in a frying pan filled with hot olive oil if he didn’t agree that C.O.D was better than Black Ops and here he was offering to walk me to class? Guys are weird. I have no idea how we are the same species. It’s things like this that make me question religion, I mean there is no way I was derived from that. But there’s no way I came from a monkey either so don’t even bring up that evolution shit.
“Hello?” he said waving a hand in front of my face.
“Umm, who are you again?” I asked. He ran a hand through his blonde hair. Did I mention that I’m not attracted to blondes? I’m not, they’re just to… blonde. No offence, they’re cute and all, but… no.
“Zachery.” He replied.
“Well, Zachery, since I don’t plan on getting any more detentions, I’ll be walking. If you want to follow, God gave you legs’ to use, so use them.” I told him walking away. Hopefully he’ll take my rudeness as a sign to run for the hills with his tail between his legs.
He didn’t take it. Nope, they never do, do they?
The guy walked next to me straight to class and then as soon as we came to the door, turned to face me and said, ‘let’s hang out Friday night. I’ll meet you at Raves.’ Then the guy left.
Hold up.
Was I just asked on a date?
Are you serious?
Was that the big ask out thingy?
Awe hell no.
“Miss Roxburgh, are you coming into my class anytime soon?” Mr Love, our literature teacher asked me from his desk. I rolled my eyes.
“I’m coming, woman.” I growled which, in turn, resulted in another detention for the day. Just, bloody perfect.
YOU ARE READING
A girl named Boysenberry
HumorI had barely made it a step when I say a man walking towards me. He too had a digital clock thing on top of his head too, except his had todays date, September 10th, and his timer read, 00:00:12. I didn’t know what to expect, but I wanted to see wha...
