(A/N: There may be some swearing, so if you are , I dunno…12 and under? Then you should NOT read this!)
Heather
I was mad at Sammy Keyes for causing immortal embarrassment. That meant never ending embarrassment. I would now have to go and get some stupid little teasing, "You got punched by a skinny little seventh grader, Heather! We thought you were better than that!" Yes, I would reply, "Shut up" or "Go to hell" or "Get lost" or "I let her". I would say stuff that made me seem cool. But it was not cool when your parents felt sorry for you and took you out for dinner. See, when we go out for decent dinners, we all go out. Divorced parents, annoying brother and all. So we were a Olive Garden, and we were seated at this private little table in the middle of a dozen people. And the sign says We Have a Privacy Policy!
Sure.
Right.
Uh-huh.
Anyways, a perky blonde around-her-twenties girl came by and asked, "Whatwouldyoulike?"
My dad was the one who usually talked. (My mother hag PTD. Public Talking Disorder. She doesn't say it, and even though I don't even think PTD exists, my dad never lets her talk, so I assume)
My dad says, "Can you give us a moment to decide?"
The perky blonde nods
quickly and steps back. My dad just stares. The blonde is waiting,
hands clasped behind back, bobbing on the balls of her feet, three
feet away from our table. Finally my dad, exasperated, sighs, "Um,
the POLICY?"
My older brother snickers, and I pretend to be
bored, even though I'm dying that my embarrassing family won't
start to act psycho in public.
(a/n: I put that there on purpose!)
The blonde nods, and rushes off into the kitchen direction. When she leaves, my dad says, "So how was school today?" he glares in my direction.
"Look." I say, "I'm not the one who punched some girl, she punched me."
My dad says, "But there should be a reason, right? Last year a Freddie Yorker Elementary, on the last day of school you attacked poor Sally Johnson.
"She bit me."
"You whacked her with a softball bat." Casey, my older brother, says.
I rolled my eyes, "I only whacked her, because she was an annoying butt-head."
"Heather, you cannot just go hurting people because they are annoying."
"Is this Sammy girl annoying?" my mother asks.
"Yes! That high-top wearing freak, she embarrassed me TWO times today!" I say, loudly.
Casey says, "Well, maybe if you weren't such a public humiliation by yourself, then you could have not had to do what you did—" he paused, "What did you do? Was it throwing a bowling ball at her, after stealing it from the locker room? Or was it stabbing scissors in her hand? Or was it slicing her neck off with your fingernails? Or was it the old attempt-to-rip-the-hair-out which always fails?"
I glared at him, "NO." I say. Then I, rather proudly say, "I jabbed her with a pin."
They all gasp, and then my dad says, "What kind of…"
Casey sniggers, "Figures. Leave it to the-good-Heather-who-turned-over-a-new-leaf-for-junior-high to do something sneay like that."
I whisper, under my breath, "Bastard."
My dad hears me and says, "Heath-er!"
My mom just says, "Heather…" In a warning tone.
I roll my eyes, "Well, he is."
"Is what?" my mom asked casually, even though she knew what I meant.
"A bas—"
"ENOUGH!" my dad hollered.
I pouted. Casey grinned evilly at me like, "Hah!"
I crossed my arms over my chest as we told the perky girl our orders.
When she was gone, I quickly said, "My plan is to pretend like my nose is broken and—"
My dad cut me off, "Heather—one word to this fantastic little plan of yours—NO."
I said, "Cummon, it'll work!" I explained the plan to them, "Sammy's life will be destroyed! I will be QUEEN!" I laughed a mwa-ha-ha laugh. The family across the aisle from ours looked at me as if I was planning to bomb the place.
Casey said, "You are not going to be able to even get more than a cent before Sammy destroys your life."
"Shut up, loser." I said, "Since when have you become the King of Revenge?"
"Since when have you? Oh yeah, when you used a pin to prick a girl who got back at you with a bloody punch." He snickered, "Your revenge was SOOOO much better."
That was it. I tackled him and started to pull at him.
"What the hell?!?" he said, pushing me off, like he was dusting lint away, "Your annoying, weak, and an embarrassment!" he said.
I started to scream swears I his direction, when Dad finally pulled me off, and scolded me for acting like a let-loose-circus-tiger in a restaurant.
For a while, I just ate my noodles and chicken like I was actually enjoying it, but after a minute of watching Casey act like he was eating, but just sit there, I ask, "What are you doing?"
He was totally spaced off, his brown eyes staring off into space. "What-? O-oh…!" he said, "I…w-was just s-spaced of…" then he picks at his acting like he enjoyed it, but I knew something was bugging him.
Which for me, don't get me wrong, was a good thing.
But I was just curious. "Why are you acting to freaky?"
"I'm not!" he snapped, "Mind your own business, Bother!"
"Heather!" I snap back. Then, angry with him for calling me Bother, I push my dad's glass of champagne onto his lap.
"Shit!" he says, "Why'd you do that?"
My dad says, "No swearing at the table!" then says, "Heather, please excuse yourself fro five minutes. The bathroom, whatever. Go bug a waiter or something."
I storm off, but I sneak back behind a few plants and watch them.
Casey says, "Geez, I just washed these!"
My dad says, "She is such a bother sometimes."
"Exactly why I called her that!"
My mother says, "Leave her alone, she's emo."
EMO!? I don't even think Mom knew what that was. Probably the reason she used it in a sentence wrong.
Dad and Casey knew she used it wrong, too, so ignored her, too. When Casey was cleaned up, he asked, "Why didn't Heather come back?"
My dad said, "I don't know. But what I don't get it why she punched that girl."
"'Cause she's a dork." Casey said.
My face turned red, No, I was NOT!
Or was I?
I pushed that stupid thought away. I hated Sammy because she was a high-top wearing loser, not 'cause I was a dork!
Which I was not.
"In my opinion, she's cool." Casey said.
I choked back a gasp, WHAT?!
"She has guts..." Casey said.
"Casey…" Dad leans in, "Do you have a crush?" he whispered.
Casey looks hesitant, and kind of like he'd been caught, or accused of something he did, "…No…! Way…Dad!" he said.
My mother sakes her head, "Casey, you should not like a girl who your sister hates. She put Heather in immortal embarrassment."
My mother had used my term! I was beaming with happiness for my usually annoying mom who finally stuck up for me.
This was a miracle!
I closed my eyes shut, tightly. Casey could not.
Could not.
Like Sammy Keyes.
Then they would get married!
Sammy Acosta!
And have a kid!
Junior Acosta!
And to get the kid would mean…
Ew! No! Nonono! I would not think of these things!
Aaargh! What was wrong with me?
When I opened my eyes, Casey was leaning back in his chair, thinking again.
Was he thinking of Sammy? Or me? Or dad?
Or mom?
Okay, scratch the last one. Mom was weird.
But, Casey was…I dunno…cool at school, and…if he told people he liked Sammy, she'd become cool!
I'd be a disaster!
So that's when I realized it.
I have to plans.
Operation A—Fake Broken Nose
Operation B—Casey would NOT talk to Sammy---EVER.
