He skipped school. He wasn't there on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday and today was day two. All you had to do is show up, but he was still absent. He wouldn't even responing to my texts (not that I sent a lot). I kept anxiously looking at the door hoping- no -praying he would come in. But his seat remained empty the whole class period. The seconds multiplied, feeling ten times longer than they normally did. The teacher rambled on about how to say things in Spanish and about the culture as I doodled in my note book. Random cigarettes and smoke appeared on my page from the pencil while the clock ticked ever so loudly. It almost drowned out the sound of the blabbing teacher going on about glob knows what. I almost couldn't take the crushing silence, I was so used to him chewing my ear off or texting me during class. I looked up at the clock to see class was almost over, easing my conscious. Someone nudge me getting my attention, it was Laura. Her purple head band placed perfectly on her lumpy hair while her usual purple outfit fit her beautifully complementing her curves.
"The teacher called you" she whispered. I looked over to see the teacher staring at me, waiting for an answer.
"Um, si?" I tried. She shook her head and called on someone else as everyone started packing up their stuff. I closed my notebook and stuffed it in to my back pack.
"You're a really great artist, Fionna" Laura said.
"Thanks" I smiled at her.
She smiled back and put her purple pencil case in her bag. The bell rung, sending everyone out if their seats and rushing towards the door. I let people pass and walked out of the crowded class room. The hallway was a mess, kids walking around aimlessly and bumping in to each other. It's like you let a bunch of kindergardeners loose in a playground. I plowed through the hundreds of teenagers and somehow made it to my world studies class. The boring class lasted forever, not doing much to get my mind off of him. It's like he was stuck in there with his dumb cigarettes and his stupid fancy car. I thought back to Saturday, it felt so long ago even though it was only about a week ago. The way he placed his hands on me was burned in to my brain, I've never been touched that way and apparently I've never had my first kiss before. He was right, I did secretly want him to kiss me, but I had enough sense to never let that happen. He's a player, the only reason he's stuck around so long is because I haven't given in to him yet. He won't get me that easy, nor will he get me at all. He somehow turned in to my muse, I couldn't stop sketching pictures of him. It was uncontrollable and a little annoying, the sides of my pages were covered with little drawing of cigarettes and smoke up and down the pages. It was getting a little crazy. I started to miss him, longing for even a "hello" or a "sup Blondie?", anything. I sighed as the bell rung and put away my stuff. I waited for everyone to rush out of the class room and got up to get to my locker. Outside of the classroom was a hopeful looking Benni, a grin across his face at the sight of me.
"Fionna! I'm so glad I could catch you before you left" he said.
"Oh, hey Benni" I said with a smile.
"I was wondering, homecoming is coming up soon-" he said.
"It's in a month" I cut him off. I felt kind of rude doing so, but I could care less at the moment.
"Yes, I know, I just figured I should ask you before everyone else does. So, will you go to homecoming with me?" He asked. I hesitated, pondering whether I should go with him or not. There was no reason not to, it's not like in saving myself for someone and it's not like Marshall would ask me.
"Sure" I nodded. His smile widened.
"Great, I'll give you my number so we can talk about it later" he said ripping out a piece of paper to write on. He scribbled his digits with a black ball point pen across the tiny paper before handing it to me. I accepted the number and smiled.
"Thanks, I'll talk to you later" I called as I turned to leave for my locker looking down at the numbers on the tiny piece of paper.
"Okay, bye" he said. I waved at him and continued to my locker on the other side of the school. I quickly entered the combination, opening the door and throwing in my books. I pulled out my bag and closed the metal door to see Damien waiting for me.
"I'm not in the mood" I said pushing past him.
"Wait a minute, can I at least ask you something?" He asked.
"No, I will not go to homecoming with you" I said irritably.
"Why? Did your boyfriend beat me to it?" He asked.
"No, now go away" I said continuing to walk away.
"Fine then" he said. I didn't even look back, I was too focused on getting out of the damn place. When I exited the school I walked through the parking lot and saw a familiar tall figure with a cigarette leaning against a shiny silver car. Curiously, I walked over to see Marshall with his leather jacket and shaded glasses looking down at his phone.
"'Bout time you got here, get in" he ordered.
"Where the hell have you been?" I demanded.
"Gone, now get in" he repeated.
"Not until you tell me where you've been" I said stubbornly crossing my arms. He looked up from his phone and pulled off his glasses to reveal an unhappy look on his face.
"Get in and I'll explain" he said. I waited a moment, glaring him down as he stared back. I gave in and pulled open the car door and getting in to the leather seat. He got in the drivers seat and drove out of the school grounds, heading towards my apartment.
"Where were you?" I asked again.
"Sick" he said.
"For almost a week? Bullshit" I replied angrily.
"Maybe, but it's something" he said.
"Tell me the truth, Marshall" I demanded raising my voice.
"I broke my arm" he lied.
"Whatever" I said.
"I joined clown school" he continued.
"You couldn't get in if you tried" I snarked.
"I adopted an elephant" he tried again.
"From where? The clown school?" I challenged sarcastically.
"Tell me the truth" I repeated.
"I skipped" he said.
"Now that I believe" I said in an annoyed tone. He shook his head at the windshield.
"Why do you care anyways?" He asked.
"Because you've been gone all week" I said.
"It wasn't all week" he defended.
"It's Thursday" I said.
"Really?" He asked. He finished off his cigarette and put the butt in his little ash tray.
"Oh, glob, you don't even know what day it is" I scoffed looking out the window.
"Sorry" he grumbled, his tone of voice irritated. "You're impossible"
"I'm impossible?" I questioned snapping my head back to face him.
"Yeah, you're impossible" he hissed.
"You're the one who's been annoying me since the first day of school! If I'm so impossible why am I in this goddamn car?" I threw my words like daggers, piercing the air with bitterness. He was silent, glaring straight ahead through his black sunglasses. His knuckles gripped the wheel until they were white.
"Because you're the good kind of impossible" he spoke finally. What is he talking about?
"You're the kind of impossible that I like to be around" he continued.
"You're just saying that to get in to my pants" I muttered. He chuckled and glanced over at me.
"Babe, I couldn't get in your pants if I tried" he replied.
"Don't call me babe"
"See, that's what I'm talking about. There's is nothing wrong with me calling you babe, yet you still reject it. I like that" he said. I rolled my eyes at him, unable to believe all his bullshit right now.
"You going to homecoming?" He asked.
"Yup" I said.
"You gotta date?"
"Yup" I repeated.
"Who?"
"Benni" I answered. He laughed.
"He asked you to homecoming?"
"Yes, he did. And if you couldn't guess, I said yes" I replied sharply.
"That's hilarious"
"Totally, you can tell by the way I'm laughing my ass off right now" I snarked.
"It is quite funny" he said.
"Whatever"
"Dose that mean you're going out with him?" He asked. I pursed my lips and shook my head slowly.
"Good" he said.
"What do you mean 'good'?" I challenged. He shrugged.
"He's not your type"
"Well what is my type?"
"Well, your type is usually less dorky an more..." he trailed off searching for a word to use.
"Rebellious?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Just a little" he agreed.
"What else is 'my type'?" I continued.
"Tall, dark, handsome..."
"Cocky? Rich? Full of himself?" I asked.
"No, not that-"
"Immature? A smoker? Annoying?" I continued on listing off his characteristics.
"You're not getting the point-" he tried again.
"You?" I asked. His face grew pink upon his cheeks, tickling his skin with the soft color.
"Maybe" he muttered.
"Whatever, you're not my type"
He pulled up to the usual spot and parked the car then turned himself to face me.
"Have you even thought about it?" He asked.
"No" I lied.
"I think you have" he poked.
"I haven't" I persisted. He leaned over closer, his breath smelled of faded smoke. My conscious was telling me to pull back and get out of the car, leave him and talk to Cake about your day. But the voice in the back of my head told me to freeze. It's funny how a tiny voice can out scream the loudest conscious in the world.
"Something tells me you're lying" he murmured.
"I'm not" I so was, I was lying my butt off right now. He chuckled and moved even closer, my body locked in to place with no movements. He smiled and hover his lips in front of mine, teasing me with a grin. I tilted my head to the side unwillingly and automatically inviting him forward. His lips brushed mine as the door to my apartment bursted open. I jumped away from him and his lips, hitting the car door with my head.
"Fionna! I need help with lunch!" She called.
"I-I gotta go" I stuttered blushing.
"See ya" he said, smirking at me. He was looking at me as if he just proved me wrong, but still hasn't proved him right. And he looked determined to prove himself right. I got out of the car red-faced, and went in after a pissed looking Cake.
"'We're just friends, Cake' 'it's not like that, Cake' 'I don't like him, Cake'" she mimicked my voice entering the kitchen and returning to making lunch.
"We are just friends" I insisted.
"Yeah right, friends don't make out in their car together" she said.
"We weren't making out!" I said. "He hasn't even kissed me" I plopped down on the couch and rubbed my forehead in frustration.
"Listen, I don't like him-"
"Then why did you just sit there while he was about to play tonsil tennis with you?" She asked.
"I froze, okay? I was nervous and couldn't move" I confessed.
"It wasn't because you wanted him to kiss you?" She asked.
"Nope" I assured her. Maybe it was a little bit of a lie, but it was mostly true.
"I believe you" she said.
"Thank you"
"Lunch will be do in a few minutes" she announced.
"Okay" I said getting up. I walked in to my room and tossed my bag on the bed and fell down next to it. My phone vibrates in my back pocket, I pulled it out and checked the message.
Marshall: You're a pretty good lair.
Me: it's a skill I picked up
Marshall: I can still tell you're lying.
Me: yeah right
Marshall: I bet you have thought about it, and you wanted me to kiss you.
Me: in your dreams buddy
Me: Cake was super pissed, don't try anything like that again
Marshall: whatever
I didn't respond after that, too tired to do that. I was so glad tomorrow was Friday, I don't think I can put up with this much longer. A grabbed my sketch book, allowing my pencil run free. Of course it was another sketch of Marshall in his glasses, why can't I stop drawing him? I stared down at the sketch in anger and furiously broke my pencil in half and chucking it towards the garbage. The bed pulled me back, comforting my aching body and making my eyelids heavier. I slowly drifted off to sleep clutching my sketchbook to my chest, not letting it go. In my dream I was falling, and falling, and falling. There was nothing else but falling, no view or scent or anything. The farther I fell, the smell of smoke became quite faint. I was about to crash in to the ground when I jerked awake, still holding on to my sketchbook. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and threw the sketchbook across the bed in disgust. I walked in to the bathroom and turned on the water, takin off my clothes and throwing them to the ground and getting in the shower. I stood there as the warm water hit my back and trailed down my body, engulfing me in the warm liquid. I'm pretty sure I spent 10 minutes just shampooing my hair. Glob I was so messed up, I couldn't think straight. Memories of him was scattered across my brain, insisting I don't like him. I don't, he's too annoying and cocky. He's full of himself and doesn't care about anyone but him. If he was all that, why did he make my heart race when ever he got close enough? Maybe it was just tension between us, if we just kiss it'll be back to normal, right? He's gotta be the one to do it because I am not kissing him, that would totally prove him right and make him think it's means something different. I don't like him, I don't like him, I don't like him, I don't like him. He was just a good buddy, nothing more. I would go crazy if it was something more. I got out of the shower and dried off, putting my clothes back on and towel drying my hair before putting it up in my usual pony tail. I wondered how much of his act was just to nail me in bed, which would never happen, probably most of it. Too bad it's all for nothing.