It was harsh, and the tutor session with Troy was that much more awkward. When he finally stopped chopping, he slapped his hand on the counter, making Gabriella jump. "why won't you go out with me?" "Besides your temper?" "Don't pretend you don't have one." "I'm Hispanic, what's your excuse?" Troy scowled, chopping again. Since his anger was occupying his train of thought, he didn't notice the knife getting closer to his fingers, until a nice cut was indented. He held it up, looking as if he were about to die.
Gabriella laughed at his reaction, and led him to the sink. "If you acted more like this, more often I might consider going out with you." "Act like what?" "Vulnerable. Like you're just like everyone else. No better, no worse. Majority of the time you think you're so much better than everyone else. As if you're on a high and mighty pedastool looking down on people like me." "You really think I'm like that?" His temper was showing a little bit again.
"You and your little clique. But all of you need to realize you are no more special than anyone else. We all breath, we all bleed, we all die, get used to it. And you need to change your attitude, because none of us are going away no matter how much money your mommy has in her bank account." "I'm nothing like that."
"Really? You don't go around the school beating up the weaker, shoving people out of the way, spreading rumors about people because they don't do as you ask?" "I worry about things the same as you. I have my dad constantly riding me, and a scholarship on the line." They were both talking at the same time, and equally as loud.
"Zeke was tight you are an Ice Bitch." Gabriella closed her eyes, summoning up the strength not to punch Troy in the throat. "I might be a bitch, but at least I'm not a dick. My dad rides me," she mocked him, causing him to blush and glare. "He rides you probably because you hardly ever listen. As for your scholarship, don't even try to pretend you know what it's like to have nothing, if you lost that thing your mom would just pay for your tuition. You've never had to claw your way up out of anything. You're the privilege boy, having everything served to you on a silver platter. Oh NO! It's burnt."
Smoke crowded the room, and Troy ran to the extinguisher, blowing it on the oven. Mrs. Bailey soon came running from across the hall. "Is everyone alright? I saw smoke." "Yes ma'am Troy took care of it." "Good, well, I think you kids should leave it at that for today." Gabriella nodded, gathering up her things. "Hey we still have about a half an hour left, what do you wanna do?" "We just bit each other's heads off in there, and suddenly we're friends?" Troy shrugged, "I guess." Gabriella sighed, "You're brain dead." But instead of getting mad, they both laughed at the comment.