Disclaimer: I don't own Jimmy Neutron.
CindyWith tears that were still streaming down my cheeks I wrote in the only place where I could keep my most deepest and private thoughts—my diary.
Dear Diary,
I'm going to say this for the record: I hate Jimmy Neutron. I hate him with every thread of my being and of my whole existence. What happened yesterday was even more humiliating than what happened the day before. He has the nerve to call me a pest, especially after trying to be nice to him on two different occasions in the last two days! There have been so many times that I think Jimmy absolutely hates me, but those times were purely judgmental. I didn't think he actually hated me, but just pretended to, to possibly hide some shred of feelings for me that I supposedly thought he had. I was wrong to ever think that he would ever feel the same way about me that I do about him. How could I have been so stupid?
As I continued to write, my thoughts drifted back to what happened after I left the mall. Libby was calling after me, but I couldn't talk to her, or anyone. I was too heartbroken to even care about anything else around me. I just kept running and running until I reached my house, which I can say is most definitely a new record for me—I've never been able to run 2 miles in my life until that day. It's interesting how rivals make you do things you normally can't do otherwise.
I feel as if fate has dealt me one of the cruelest blows on my heart ever. I could never forget what he said to me today—"You're annoying and a real pest!" How could he say that to me? After all we've been through he actually has the nerve to say that! What a big-headed jerk!
I think I need to reevaluate myself and my relationship with Jimmy, if there even is one at all. He doesn't appear to think we even have one! It's always, 'I hate you, you hate me, and I'm so much better than you can ever be'. He always sees things this way—so one-sided.
I'm also starting to ponder what life would be like if Neutron wasn't in it. I definitely wouldn't mind being the smartest kid in class again—I miss those days. I wasn't even as cruel to people as I've gotten to be in the last few years. For the most part, guys existed, but they were a really small part of my life. I had my small circle of friends and a pretty above-average social life that I could be proud of. My parents have always been proud of my achievements, even if we aren't that close all the time. My mother especially was and still is concerned a lot more with our wealth to really make that much room for me in my life. I guess that's why my dad decided to leave the picture shortly after I returned from being kidnapped on Yolkus a year or so back. He really couldn't stand being around her anymore because she was more concerned about money than about trying to raise a family. At least my parents love me in their own way, however, and that's really all that matters, I suppose.
It's hard for me to even believe I have grown up mentally and emotionally faster than most eleven-year-old girls do. I want to believe that girls are better than boys, but in reality, they both fit somewhere in the middle, like a sort of equilibrium, so to speak. Both boys and girls have their own special abilities that make them who they are. Everyone is defined by who we are, what people perceive us to be, and what people think of us. I still wish that girls like myself didn't fall in love so early in their lives. If I wasn't so in love with this rival I have grown so accustomed to hating, I'd still probably have a school-girl crush on Nick, and life would make so much more sense. All of my rational thought would return, and all would be right in my perfect world.
Fate, unfortunately, dealt me with a cruel hand. I had to love Jimmy Neutron, with the ice-cream cone hair, oversized ego, and that show offy know-it-all attitude. There's no choice except for me to either except that, or go through life wondering 'what if'. There was only one problem—he still didn't feel the same way. Maybe we should go back to arguing again…or I could just force him to confess how he feels, but that would probably result in a drastic, traumatic consequence for myself. I can't seem to focus on what I want in life anymore. I don't want to fight hi, and I don't want him to tell me how he feels out of force. It's really hard for me to even go through life day to day wondering what Jimmy even thinks of me, whether he thinks of me at all, or if he even cares about me.
My depression is only getting worse. I don't enjoy torturing Jimmy like I used to, although he apparently still thinks I do. Competing with him at school isn't any fun either. I just let him answer and keep my mouth shut. Everyone is wondering what's up with me and why I don't even talk much at school anymore. Other than the fact that my conduct is now exceptional, I am truly not happy anymore. I can't just tell the whole class that "I love Jimmy Neutron" and go on to explain why he doesn't feel the same way I do—I'll be laughed out school!
Fifth graders don't date—it's a sort of social rule that elementary children, girls and boys are supposed to dislike each other. Only the coolest guys in our grade could date the coolest girls, and everyone else must stay out of the way. I'm sort of in the middle—If I'm caught even thinking about the possibility of dating someone that is un-cool, I'll never be regarded the same way again. I would be considered an outcast by everyone that ever thought I was cool if anyone outside of Libby was to find out that I was dating my arch-nemesis.
Sunday was another day.
Jimmy
What an awful day that was. I couldn't get Vortex to leave me alone! She was always there it seemed—wherever I was, there she was.
I should have known with Libby being at the mall that day, that she would have told Cindy everything I told her about how I felt. I swore her to secrecy. Maybe that's why I reacted the way I did when Cindy came running up to me, who knows? When I look back on it, I don't even know why I acted so foolishly. I knew I was scared, but of what, I didn't know. More than likely it was because I was afraid to love. I had somehow managed to get the idea into my head that I wasn't the one for her. I didn't want her to be constantly teased in school every day because she was going out with me. Even I didn't want to be teased for going out with her! Everyone knows that fifth-graders do not date. No one starts dating until at least junior high, possibly even high school. When you're in elementary school, you're still not supposed to even like girls yet…well, maybe Betty Quinlan, but that's another story altogether.
I didn't know what I wanted to do. I could call her and apologize for acting the way I had, I could go back to torturing her, or I could just not speak to her anymore. Any of those three choices weren't the way to go. I wasn't in the mood to talk to Cindy at all period.
She also thinks I haven't noticed her behavior at school. I actually dread coming to school now that we don't feud anymore. I always have the answers with no snide comebacks anymore. She's always quiet in class now. It's hard to believe that things between us hadn't been the same after that short period of time we spent together on the island. Even my friends have been asking me what's been up with her because they seem to think that I know, because I actually did. The only reason why I didn't tell them was because the last thing I needed was a hyperactive fan of a super hero television show that I never watch and an over-obsessive llama observer taunting me each and every day about my supposed 'secret love life' with Cindy Vortex. When it comes to issues involving girls, they are at times, way too immature to understand exactly what I'm going through. They would be too busy spending their time annoying me with their jokes to even remotely realize how much I care for this girl that I loathe so much.
I looked out my window, wondering what she was doing at that moment. I couldn't see any movement, but I could tell something was wrong. I imagined she was probably sprawled across her bed crying because of what I said to her. I think I might even have what some people call ESP. I can actually almost envision what's going on with Cindy—something I'm not even able to do with my other friends. I can only read her mind and hers only—no one else's. Maybe instead of ESP, I have CSP—the ability to read Cindy's mind.
More than anything I wanted to just go right over to her house and just talk to her, but I lacked the courage to do it. I was still a bit annoyed at the time due to what happened because I really wanted to be alone. What I needed was time to clear my head, and a lot more time than Cindy was willing to wait. She wanted me to have a change of heart right then and there, like a child who's so used to watching random, mindless cartoon shows wanting everything to happen for them right away in real life. Sometimes she just doesn't understand that these types of situations take a lot of time to think about.
I picked a crumpled piece of paper out of my wastebasket. It was for the formal dance coming up in two weeks. Everyone else already had a date to the dance. Even Sheen, surprisingly enough was actually able to convince Libby to accompany him. For the most part, I had already told my friends I wasn't going to go. They knew I didn't dance, and that formal school functions, if they weren't academic-related, were definitely not my thing. Besides, I could never, ever take Cindy. What would everyone else think? And what would her friends think if she were to be seen with me? She'd get laughed out of the school, and I'd never be able to forgive myself for ruining her image. The last thing I wanted was for Cindy to be upset, which was actually strange enough for me to even think considering all the times she's upset me.
I looked out my window and into Cindy's once again noticing some movement that time. She was putting a book of some type away, and I could see the tears still coming down her face. I better stay out of her way tomorrow. She's for sure not going to want to talk to me after how I've acted. I thought.
She went back to her old ways the next day and trouble had started to ensue once more. I was not happy to see the old Cindy beginning to show once again.
A/N: I twisted my ankle something awful today just walking down the last step of a series of steps I had to take on campus, so I had some extra time to work on this—which is both good and a curse. It was good, because I was actually able to come up with ideas I probably never would have thought of otherwise. Hopefully I'll feel better soon, but I have a long road ahead. Read and review this, guys! And thanks so much to everyone that has reviewed and been so patient with me during all of my busy time I have in college this semester. I really appreciate it.
