Ch. 6
I smile. I laugh. I gently touch Jeramy's hand. He doesn't flinch and his face doesn't seem any brighter. At one time my smile alone made Jeramy's heart flutter and his hands grow clammy. I guess I don't make his skin crawl anymore. It's strange to me, because he makes mine crawl more than ever. Sometimes I wonder if it's a bad thing, the way he makes me feel. Sometimes I wonder if I'm really in love with him, or just the idea of him. Sometimes I wonder if he feels anything at all for me, or whether I'm just easy because we've already been dating for a year. Today I wonder whether he noticed that I'm wearing his favorite jeans and top, full well knowing that he's looking at Sarah McGeorge's little tiny ass in her little midget size 0 pants. I grumble under my breath and walk away.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"Getting a drink," I say, voice full of contempt and frustration. He doesn't read it and let's me walk away.
"Mother fucker," I say to myself.
I walk over to the pop machine and deposit perfect change. A coke falls from the machine and I pull it out. I hate this school so much, but at least they let you drink pop. One of the other schools I went to had machines, but had strict rules against using them between the hours of 7:45 and 2:30. A waste of attention and stifling of money, if you ask me.
I run my finger along the edge of the wall as I walk back to my homeroom, which has less organization than any homeroom I'd ever been in. Our teacher's didn't care if we wandered or talked or ate. I get to the door and turn the corner only to find Jeramy standing ridiculously close to Sarah McGeorge's face. He looks as if he's about to tear her apart. I shut the door loudly behind me and Jeramy jumps and smiles at me, a smile so fake it made eyes hurt.
A voice beams from over head and announcements begin. Our teacher makes futile attempts to quiet us down some, but it's all for not because our class keeps chatting and giggling and throwing paper balls at Eric Daniels, who is attempting to hit them with his forehead. I flick open my cell phone.
"Hes flirting with big red again" I text her.
"cut off his balls" she responds.
"Can't. she's got them in her hand."
"Want to chop her tits off?"
"Not really, nothing to chop off."
"Slash tires?"
"Does she drive?"
"Your right... shes too dumb"
"lol"
"We'll tp her face and she'll prly look better"
":D"
"lol"
"we did do it"
"i know"
"it wasn't that great"
"i figured"
"talk later"
"k. xoxo"
Ricky and I had a weird bond. I always knew what she was trying to say, even if she wasn't so tactful in how to say it. She always knew when something was wrong, sometimes before I even did.
"Lemmie have a drink of that," Jeramy said, reaching for my pop.
"No," I said, purely because moment's earlier his hand was on the small of Ms. Skinny no ass no personality no style's back.
"Give it to me," he said sternly.
"Fuck off," I said, taking a sip of it. I knew this was a bad choice.
"Come here, what's your fucking problem," he said, grabbing me, pulling me close before asking.
"You are," I grumbled, trying to pull away. His grip tightened on my arm.
"Calm the fuck down," he said, probably more to himself.
"Why don't you go flirt with your new girl, since you already got what you need from me," I say quietly, my eyes welling with tears.
"Awe, fuck off. Jesus Christ, you're fucking stupid," he let me go, grabbed his bookbag and left the class room.
I sat down and put my head in my hands. Fuck.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"Getting a drink," I say, voice full of contempt and frustration. He doesn't read it and let's me walk away.
"Mother fucker," I say to myself.
I walk over to the pop machine and deposit perfect change. A coke falls from the machine and I pull it out. I hate this school so much, but at least they let you drink pop. One of the other schools I went to had machines, but had strict rules against using them between the hours of 7:45 and 2:30. A waste of attention and stifling of money, if you ask me.
I run my finger along the edge of the wall as I walk back to my homeroom, which has less organization than any homeroom I'd ever been in. Our teacher's didn't care if we wandered or talked or ate. I get to the door and turn the corner only to find Jeramy standing ridiculously close to Sarah McGeorge's face. He looks as if he's about to tear her apart. I shut the door loudly behind me and Jeramy jumps and smiles at me, a smile so fake it made eyes hurt.
A voice beams from over head and announcements begin. Our teacher makes futile attempts to quiet us down some, but it's all for not because our class keeps chatting and giggling and throwing paper balls at Eric Daniels, who is attempting to hit them with his forehead. I flick open my cell phone.
"Hes flirting with big red again" I text her.
"cut off his balls" she responds.
"Can't. she's got them in her hand."
"Want to chop her tits off?"
"Not really, nothing to chop off."
"Slash tires?"
"Does she drive?"
"Your right... shes too dumb"
"lol"
"We'll tp her face and she'll prly look better"
":D"
"lol"
"we did do it"
"i know"
"it wasn't that great"
"i figured"
"talk later"
"k. xoxo"
Ricky and I had a weird bond. I always knew what she was trying to say, even if she wasn't so tactful in how to say it. She always knew when something was wrong, sometimes before I even did.
"Lemmie have a drink of that," Jeramy said, reaching for my pop.
"No," I said, purely because moment's earlier his hand was on the small of Ms. Skinny no ass no personality no style's back.
"Give it to me," he said sternly.
"Fuck off," I said, taking a sip of it. I knew this was a bad choice.
"Come here, what's your fucking problem," he said, grabbing me, pulling me close before asking.
"You are," I grumbled, trying to pull away. His grip tightened on my arm.
"Calm the fuck down," he said, probably more to himself.
"Why don't you go flirt with your new girl, since you already got what you need from me," I say quietly, my eyes welling with tears.
"Awe, fuck off. Jesus Christ, you're fucking stupid," he let me go, grabbed his bookbag and left the class room.
I sat down and put my head in my hands. Fuck.