All That I've Got

I collapsed on my bed. Why did he have to ask questions? Why did he have to be so serious about them?
The stupid message machine thingy was beeping, I do not feel like listening to people. But it might be something important. So I listen to the message:
See you at seven.
That's it. The message, obviously, was from Blake. If I wasn't still ticked off, I probably would have laughed. But I am, so I don't.
The clock in the kitchen says it's four-thirty.
Wow, I really have been out all day. You can do the math. It always was your subject, after all...well that and algebra...which is math....
If you didn't know me well enough by now, then I am not going to Blake's tonight.
Here are a few reasons why:
1. I don't feel like going through the third-degree
2. He'll ask questions
3. I don't know where he lives.
4. He'll want answers
5. I'm tired
6. I'm ticked off
and, last but not least,
7. I just don't wanna.
So there. I feel like a scrub, so I jump in the shower before taking a nap. No lecturing from you, either. You are so lucky you're dead. At least you don't have to deal with this...stuff. Drama, life, hell, whatever.

Beep! Beep! What the hell?
Beep! Beeeep! Who is fricking honking?
Ding. Knock, knock. Screw, someone's at the door.

Throwing the warm sheets off is the last thing I want to do. But I throw my hair up and go downstairs to open the door.
It's 7:03. Great.
Guess who it is?
I roll my eyes and start to close the door. But he stops me. I run a hand through my hair.
"What do you want, Blake?"
"You're coming over to my place for dinner, remember?"
"No, I'm not. Clearly, you are not very observant. Me leaving you earlier was my way of saying that, no, I am not coming over to dinner or sleeping over. Or, to make a long story short, screw you."
He still wouldn't let me slam the door. Damn him.
"Why are you so mad at me, Skye? What did I do wrong?"
I sighed, "You asked stupid questions--"
"That's it? you're pissed because I...asked you questions?"
"And you made assumptions about me. When you didn't even know me, not really. You never stopped to think 'why?', you just assumed I wanted the attention."
We both have issues, obviously.
"Yeah, I guess maybe I did, but what was so bad about asking you a few questions? Friends do that, you know?"
I blinked, and looked at the floor, shaking my head. I hate myself sometimes.
"If we don't leave now, we'll be late for dinner."
Blake smiled, "Then let's go."