"Are you fucking kidding me?!" The first words coming out of Jeanette's mouth after she exited the library. Heather was by her side. They both immediately looked for me. They wanted me dead. They wanted to kill me. They wanted to hang me, or have my head cut off with a guillotine. Either way, they were pissed that I ratted them out. But it was for a good reason; they hurt me. I didn't hurt them.
I was walking down the hall, talking to Tommy and Jim, as we made our way to our next period, which was every elementary school student's favorite subject: Lunch. The cafeteria was flooded with students. Me, Tommy, and Jim all agreed to go to this new restaurant called "The Roman Empire Restaurant," which apparently had the best Italian cuisines ever.
I loved Italian food. I always complimented and commented to the chefs and employees every time I went to an Italian restaurant about how the Romans had an excellent taste in food back then. I thought it was generous of them to spread the recipe to their greatest dishes. Like Pizza and Spaghetti.
The restaurant wasn't too far from the campus. It was a 3-block walk. The three of us began our walk. We talked about what we were going to get as we walked along North University Rd. We passed by a small eye doctor's office that sat on the corner next to the West Hall Building.
Tommy suggested a sandwich that was his favorite called the "Roman Italian Sub". "It has everything on it. Pepperoni, fresh salami, provolone cheese, freshly cut tomatoes, lettuce, crispy bacon, and ham," He made it sound mouthwatering.
Jim, on the other hand, suggested the Spicy Nero, which was made up of a freshly pure ground beef patty stacked with pepperjack cheese, onion, tomato, lettuce, and a mysterious spice sauce spread that gave it its flaming flavor.
I personally have never been to the restaurant myself, but I remember seeing commercials on TV about the food. It did look edible. Almost like the owners were using store-bought meat and produce with proper seasonings.
When we arrived, it wasn't as busy. There were some people sitting around enjoying their spaghetti meals and Italian meatball subs. A nice female deer named Liz led us to our table, which was right near the kitchen, meaning we would get our food quicker. She handed us our menus.
"Who's getting what?" Tommy had the menu pushed up against his face.
"I'll probably do the Augustus Special," Jim said. The dish was an Italian bowl of elbow pasta with mushrooms and sliced steak, doused in hot marinara sauce and served with either a Caesar salad or French fries.
"I heard it's pretty good," Tommy chuckled. He had his eye on a dish called "Amore Della Vita." Something that looked like it was made for a couple to share.
I, on the other hand, had my eye on the Steak and Pasta. Liz came back with our drinks and took our orders. I had my elbows on the table and my hands folded. My eyes darted around the room. There was a couple in the booth behind us talking about fishing. The sounds of silverware and glass clinking mixed in with the chatter of the patrons. Suddenly, I fell into another lustful trance. There was Heather, with all her glory. The sexy naked vixen. Her tail slowly swishing side to side.
"So, do you think Heather's sorry?" I blinked and the vision was gone. I looked across from me at Jim, who was rubbing his hands together slowly, waiting patiently for his food.
I sighed and looked away at a painting that hung next to me. "I don't know. Maybe." I knew she probably wasn't and that she planned on doing something horrible to me. Heather hated me. My friends don't understand. She hates me. My parents would say: "She likes you. It's just a way girls tell a man that they like them."
By harassing and abusing them to the point of not wanting to marry anyone and put an end to the family tree, I don't think so.
"Heather likes you. She's really hot, and so are you," Tommy said.
"And..." I said. The conversation stopped there. The sound of chatter and clacking filled the space again.
Jim and Tommy aren't the arguing type. They both just shrugged and went back to their phones.
The food was quite delicious. I, of course, had some leftovers since the dish I ordered was incredibly large. Jim also had some leftovers. Tommy devoured his dish like a hungry beast.
It was exactly 1:12 p.m. when we left the restaurant. We tried hurrying back to the college since we had class at 1:30 p.m.
When we got to school, we were all out of breath. We were bent over, hands on knees, panting. We were standing under the tall oak tree next to the library. I heard Heather talking and threw a glance. Heather was walking with Ashley, laughing and gossiping about makeup.
I checked the time. It was 1:21 p.m. I wiped some sweat from my forehead and hiccupped. Taylor, the mouse I met yesterday, came walking up to me from across the college campus near the cafeteria. She had her silk-smooth black hair in a usual ponytail. She wore a black satin shirt with matching night sky jeans.
"Hey, Anthony. How've you been?" She spoke to me ever so sweetly. Like an angel sent from heaven.
"Alright, I guess," I was focusing on Heather as she disappeared down the hall of Building C. That's where our history class was.
"I wanted to know how Heather has been treating you."
I told her about the thumbtack incident and she chuckled. That little laugh made me feel that Heather was spreading false rumors about me.
Taylor cleared her throat. Her tone of voice was serious but still angelic. "You know, Anthony, if you need someone to talk to, my dad's a therapist."
Great, so is Heather telling everybody I'm a deranged psychopath. Perhaps a sociopath.
"It seems like you're going through a hard time," continued Taylor. She stood by me. "Please." I turned away from her. "No, Anthony.. Really." Taylor nodded assuredly.
For some reason I trusted her. I don't know what it was. The sense of ease and peace Taylor gave off, or the fact that I didn't feel like pushing her away like I do with most women I don't know.