Ironically, I struck up a friendship with Melissa, the girl from my Social
Studies class. Once you got past her annoying side, she was actually kind
of sweet.
"Tweets," she whispered conspicuously and then slid a slip of paper into my hand.
I found myself not even hating how she called me Tweets. Back at my old school, people had called me Tweety, because of my last name, Tweten, and I would have liked to have seen every single one of those evil beings ravaged by crazy beavers. However, there was always something so sincere with Melissa, so I kinda enjoyed her nickname for me.
I unfolded the paper and read it quickly. I was never sure when Mr. West was watching. When he got upset, hell hath no fury as he wished upon us.
Toby, the note read. Do you know who Jeremy Fehrwell is?
Keeping my eye of Mr. West, I picked up my pen and scrawled down my answer.
Yeah, why? I wrote back, and sailed it over her head when his back was turned.
Do you have any classes with him?
Maybe. WHY???? I made sure to underline the word "why" several times just so she'd get the point.
I think he's cute. Do you think he'd be interested in me?
I sighed loudly enough so that she turned around in her seat to give me a strange, questioning look. I shrugged and then jotted down my reply.
Any guy with eyes would be interested in you.
Her answer was quickly returned to me.
Do you have any classes with him today?
Math and Phys. Ed.
Great…would you pretty, pretty, pretty please ask him if he'd go to the dance next week with me?
I felt like strangling her. Matchmaking was not my thing. I hardly knew this Jeremy guy. One time we played on the same soccer team in gym, but that was about the most contact we'd ever had. My shoulders slumped defeatedly and I wrote back.
If I talk to him, I will.
I had Phys Ed right after lunch, which I think is a pretty damn stupid time to make children run after a ball or whatever, because everyone's feeling full and sluggish.
Luckily, I had Chris to keep me from dying of lethargy. Unluckily, I had Gordie in my class, too. At the moment, we were playing two on one basketball. It was a free day, where you could do whatever you wanted.
"Gordeeeee!" I screeched when he stole the ball from me.
Dribbling the ball, he demanded, "What?"
"I had the ball first. Give it back." I crossed my arms, pissed off. "That was a foul."
"This is basketball," he reminded me helpfully. "You're not on my team. I saw that you had the ball. So then, I took it from you. Now I have the ball, and I'm going to shoot it at the net."
Chris body-checked into Gordie, knocking him down and sending the ball rolling. "See, Toby, THAT was a foul." He picked up the ball and handed it to me politely. "There you go."
I smiled at Chris and began to dribble the ball towards the net. I, of course, missed the basket by about fifty-three yards, and had to retrieve the ball from where a group of kids were playing soccer.
"Thanks," I said to the boy who passed the ball to me. I took a double take and my face lit up. "Hey! You're that guy!"
"I'm a guy, yeah," he said slowly, still watching the soccer ball being kicked back and forth at the other end of the court.
"No, you're Jeremy."
"That's right."
"Okay, there's a dance coming up, and I was just wondering--"
He interrupted, "I'm not going to the dance with you. I don't even know your name, so don't ask."
I gave him a dirty look. "I wasn't ASKING for ME, asshole. I was asking for Melissa Keller, but whatever."
"Melissa Keller? The blond fox?"
"I'm sorry, I'm not doing business with you anymore," I told him with a touch of arrogance as I turned to walk away.
"She wants to go to the dance with me?"
Flipping him the finger over my shoulder, I lobbed the ball to Chris, and jogged over to him and Gordie.
Chris looked at me closely. "Why were you talking to Fehrwell?"
I stuck out by bottom lip and pouted. "My feelings have been hurt."
"Aww," he sympathized, patting my head. "He's a jackass. What did he say to you? I could go talk to him for you."
Deeply smiling, I loved how he was a natural peacemaker. "It's okay. He should said that he'd never go to the dance with me."
"You want to go to the dance with him?" he shrilled.
Gordie smirked.
"No, I was actually asking for my friend," I assured him. "He just misunderstood what I was saying and thought that I was asking him out."
"You're never going out with a guy like that," Chris told me adamantly. "They're all douche bags."
"Yes, sir." I grinned at him. "Why the sudden interest?"
"I don't know," he said. "I just don't want you to get hurt by someone like that."
Watching Chris' eyes move past me, I turned around to see what he was looking at. Jeremy was standing behind me, looking bashful.
"Hey, um," Jeremy hesitated, obviously experiencing difficulties in recalling my name.
"Her name's Toby," Gordie whispered kindly.
"Yeah," Jeremy agreed. "Listen, Toby, I'm sorry if I, um, insulted you."
"Gordie," I turned to my cousin with an enigmatic face. "Please tell him that I don't care what he has to say because he's a dick face and I hope that he gets hit by a bus."
"She's not very interested in hearing your apology right now," Gordie informed him. "Maybe if you came back later, when she's not angry anymore."
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for what I said, because it was probably really harsh and everything, and that I'd really like it if you told Melissa that I'll go to the dance with her." A blush was creeping across Jeremy's face at an alarming rate.
"Gordie," I said. "Please tell him that if he speaks to me again, I will kick him in the nuts so hard none of the males on his side of the family will ever be able to have children unless they get dick transplants, and that I'll tell Melissa after school."
"Jeremy," Gordie translated, "My cousin is violent and she'd be very happy to inform her friend about your decision."
"Thanks, Toby," Jeremy said cheerfully, punching me lightly on the shoulder.
"Gordie! Tell Jeremy that if he touches me again, I'll kick his ass."
"Don't touch her," Chris said with a smile. "Goodbye now, we hope to serve you again soon."
"Tweets," she whispered conspicuously and then slid a slip of paper into my hand.
I found myself not even hating how she called me Tweets. Back at my old school, people had called me Tweety, because of my last name, Tweten, and I would have liked to have seen every single one of those evil beings ravaged by crazy beavers. However, there was always something so sincere with Melissa, so I kinda enjoyed her nickname for me.
I unfolded the paper and read it quickly. I was never sure when Mr. West was watching. When he got upset, hell hath no fury as he wished upon us.
Toby, the note read. Do you know who Jeremy Fehrwell is?
Keeping my eye of Mr. West, I picked up my pen and scrawled down my answer.
Yeah, why? I wrote back, and sailed it over her head when his back was turned.
Do you have any classes with him?
Maybe. WHY???? I made sure to underline the word "why" several times just so she'd get the point.
I think he's cute. Do you think he'd be interested in me?
I sighed loudly enough so that she turned around in her seat to give me a strange, questioning look. I shrugged and then jotted down my reply.
Any guy with eyes would be interested in you.
Her answer was quickly returned to me.
Do you have any classes with him today?
Math and Phys. Ed.
Great…would you pretty, pretty, pretty please ask him if he'd go to the dance next week with me?
I felt like strangling her. Matchmaking was not my thing. I hardly knew this Jeremy guy. One time we played on the same soccer team in gym, but that was about the most contact we'd ever had. My shoulders slumped defeatedly and I wrote back.
If I talk to him, I will.
I had Phys Ed right after lunch, which I think is a pretty damn stupid time to make children run after a ball or whatever, because everyone's feeling full and sluggish.
Luckily, I had Chris to keep me from dying of lethargy. Unluckily, I had Gordie in my class, too. At the moment, we were playing two on one basketball. It was a free day, where you could do whatever you wanted.
"Gordeeeee!" I screeched when he stole the ball from me.
Dribbling the ball, he demanded, "What?"
"I had the ball first. Give it back." I crossed my arms, pissed off. "That was a foul."
"This is basketball," he reminded me helpfully. "You're not on my team. I saw that you had the ball. So then, I took it from you. Now I have the ball, and I'm going to shoot it at the net."
Chris body-checked into Gordie, knocking him down and sending the ball rolling. "See, Toby, THAT was a foul." He picked up the ball and handed it to me politely. "There you go."
I smiled at Chris and began to dribble the ball towards the net. I, of course, missed the basket by about fifty-three yards, and had to retrieve the ball from where a group of kids were playing soccer.
"Thanks," I said to the boy who passed the ball to me. I took a double take and my face lit up. "Hey! You're that guy!"
"I'm a guy, yeah," he said slowly, still watching the soccer ball being kicked back and forth at the other end of the court.
"No, you're Jeremy."
"That's right."
"Okay, there's a dance coming up, and I was just wondering--"
He interrupted, "I'm not going to the dance with you. I don't even know your name, so don't ask."
I gave him a dirty look. "I wasn't ASKING for ME, asshole. I was asking for Melissa Keller, but whatever."
"Melissa Keller? The blond fox?"
"I'm sorry, I'm not doing business with you anymore," I told him with a touch of arrogance as I turned to walk away.
"She wants to go to the dance with me?"
Flipping him the finger over my shoulder, I lobbed the ball to Chris, and jogged over to him and Gordie.
Chris looked at me closely. "Why were you talking to Fehrwell?"
I stuck out by bottom lip and pouted. "My feelings have been hurt."
"Aww," he sympathized, patting my head. "He's a jackass. What did he say to you? I could go talk to him for you."
Deeply smiling, I loved how he was a natural peacemaker. "It's okay. He should said that he'd never go to the dance with me."
"You want to go to the dance with him?" he shrilled.
Gordie smirked.
"No, I was actually asking for my friend," I assured him. "He just misunderstood what I was saying and thought that I was asking him out."
"You're never going out with a guy like that," Chris told me adamantly. "They're all douche bags."
"Yes, sir." I grinned at him. "Why the sudden interest?"
"I don't know," he said. "I just don't want you to get hurt by someone like that."
Watching Chris' eyes move past me, I turned around to see what he was looking at. Jeremy was standing behind me, looking bashful.
"Hey, um," Jeremy hesitated, obviously experiencing difficulties in recalling my name.
"Her name's Toby," Gordie whispered kindly.
"Yeah," Jeremy agreed. "Listen, Toby, I'm sorry if I, um, insulted you."
"Gordie," I turned to my cousin with an enigmatic face. "Please tell him that I don't care what he has to say because he's a dick face and I hope that he gets hit by a bus."
"She's not very interested in hearing your apology right now," Gordie informed him. "Maybe if you came back later, when she's not angry anymore."
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for what I said, because it was probably really harsh and everything, and that I'd really like it if you told Melissa that I'll go to the dance with her." A blush was creeping across Jeremy's face at an alarming rate.
"Gordie," I said. "Please tell him that if he speaks to me again, I will kick him in the nuts so hard none of the males on his side of the family will ever be able to have children unless they get dick transplants, and that I'll tell Melissa after school."
"Jeremy," Gordie translated, "My cousin is violent and she'd be very happy to inform her friend about your decision."
"Thanks, Toby," Jeremy said cheerfully, punching me lightly on the shoulder.
"Gordie! Tell Jeremy that if he touches me again, I'll kick his ass."
"Don't touch her," Chris said with a smile. "Goodbye now, we hope to serve you again soon."
