Him. Arnold Philip Shortman. I watch his light jog down the school stairs. It's like ever since our bitter ending; I can't ever seem to shake him, no matter how hard I try to erase that old head out of memory bank the universe makes it impossible.
It's like ever since our bitter ending; I can't ever seem to shake him, no matter how hard I try to erase that old head out of memory bank the universe makes it impossible.
I roll my eyes watching him stop to chit-chat with some overly flirtatious girls.
I don't know what they see.
All I see is his wild hair that looks like lightning struck every day for seventeen years. That stupid half smile always plastered on his face while he hums and whistles through the halls like a complete dork.
One of those Lemonheads must have said something humorous, and now I could practically hear that insanely gentle laughter of his.
His head dipped back and came up to find my impatient eyes.
Those dopey green eyes lingered in my direction for a second; something unreadable in them before he turned back his admirers.
I found my eyes lowering to his board shoulders down to his narrow waist and skinny hips. I lifted my eyes, scoffing. That must have been the boredom getting to me because no way did I find anything about him appealing.
When my gaze moved back over, I noticed he was strolling my way with that typical quiet confidence I couldn't stand.
His stupid self, everything about him made my stomach prickle.
And now I had to spend my fucking free time with him now because we were both paired up to do a huge history project that was worth half our fucking grade. He was none too pleased with our teacher either and if there was one thing we agreed on it was that we didn't work well together.
But if you were on the outside looking in, judging by that half=smile, you'd think he was happy assigned with me.
I knew the real deal. Arnold got an inflated ego every day he walked the halls. And being with me was the complete opposite, I made it my life's mission to keep that head of his humbled whenever I was forced to be in his company.
Ever since he became the shortstop on the baseball team and built a reputation for his abilities; girls came out of the woodworks to fawn all over him. Chicks that once ignored him started treating him like he was a God or something.
I knew that had affected even a typically modest person like Arnold.
My brows shifted as I thought about why he didn't date much lately; that I could tell at least. The guy seemed to stay low-key this year. Probably burned out on all the bimbos he snagged sophomore and junior year.
But I shook off the fleeting curiosity once Sir Jerko climbed his butt in the passenger seat of my car; closing the door carefully as he's been trained to do.
I hummed to myself in my head as an I put the started the engine and put the car in gear. The privilege of having a vehicle was sweeter than much else, except graduating from this dump.
I turned the first corner, feeling a smile work its way on my lip. That was short-lived though because I got the annoying feeling that he was studying me in that 'I'm just looking at you, not eyeballing' way he did.
"So, have fun in your dance class?"
I slammed my palm into the steering wheel of my car in my frustration, causing it to sound. That dry, mocking tone he used purposely always had the ability to set me off.
"Woah, guess I'll have to add anger management problems back to the list of things that make you frighteningly dangerous," Arnold said from the passenger seat of my car, raising up his hands in mock surrender.
"Yeah, and make sure you write down how you've always been the cause of it." I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Never mind, you probably don't even know how to write your own name," I plastered an obviously fake smile on my face, glancing at him.
"All this hostility for asking an innocent question?" He flashed a wry smile my way. "And I may not be able to write it well, but at least I can contain my temper better than some people," He said, taking off his snap back only to pass a large hand through his full, thick hair and place it back on.
It didn't bug me that boys did that but when he did it, my insides twisted with agitation.
"Too bad you can't contain your annoying personality," I mumbled, squeezing the steering wheel.
If he heard my comment, he didn't say anything. I look over to see him with that half-curled lip, gazing out the window. See that's the shit about him I just can't stand. I might be a grumpy bitch, but at least I'm fucking consistent.
But then I realized why he didn't snap back when we stopped at a light, and Arnold fanned his lashes at me. He wanted something, this I knew, he prepared by clearing his throat. "Hey, Helga, would you mind stopping by Carl's to get some grub?" He sighed, but it sounded like a laugh while his head shifted from side-to-side. "It's always benefitted both of us to fill our bellies before having to endure the inevitable torture." His eyes rolled at my failure to give in to his pleading request, and an exasperated sigh followed that. "Okay," His voice sounded more strained as he spoke the sweets sentence. "I'll treat you to whatever you want."
With that my foot hit the gas, weaving through the lanes. I refuse to verbalize this for his ears to hear, but he was right. Nothing would help like a thick, layered burger. My mouth watered in anticipation as my road rage leveled at the amounts of idiots, sharing the road with me.
A little smirk lifted my tense lips, at the sight of the usually composed Arnold gripping at the roof of the car.
The guy never did master the art of masking his emotions the way I did.
And that's evident in his widening eyes as I continue driving like a maniac. A joyous sensation took over me, and I snickered deviously under my breath with this revelation.
I peeked at him again with a teasing wink that earned me a glare. But I just kept grinning my shark tooth grin as I plowed through the intersections at a controlled lightning speed; watching him flinch out the corner of my eye.
Shortman would be incredibly proud if he knew that I found a silver lining in this death trap of a predicament.
End of the first chapter.
Hey, as an amateur at writing, I hoped that was okay...
This story will be on the short side.
