Damn, I Hate You

"See what I mean? No big deal." I said as I showed her where the detention room was.

"For you! I mean, she knows you! Consider yourself lucky." She replied.

"I do. I mean, I have you." I said, trying to just charm her now. She rolled her eyes as I held the door open.

"You again? And you brought a friend? Honey, don't let him influence you. Stay good! Don't be... just remember silence is golden and ignorance is bliss. Just hearing this one talk scares me." Mr. B joked. He loves me, just not when there's more than just me in the class. Wait, that sounds dirty. Well, hopefully you know what I mean.

"You ever stop to think it's her fault I'm in here? Like maybe she started some sort of arguement in class?" I asked.

"I wasn't born yesterday." he replied and gestured to a sign in sheet. They love to ensure that I'm here even though they know damn well kids would rather be in detention than real classes.

"So what'd you do this time?" he asked. I looked around to find it was just me and Jaimie so far in the class. Good, today was going to be fun.

"Got in trouble for being a good boyfriend!" I exclaimed as though it were ludicrous.

"When we say get a room, we mean an empty one." he joked. He was pretty quick for an old guy. Jaimie giggled at that one.

"So what's your name, dear?" he asked her.

"Jaimie." she replied shyly.

"You guys better be doing work. I don't wanna have to break something up... Wait, is this the same Jaimie you were talking about a couple weeks ago who you said got you fired up and made you argue with you're teacher?"

"Well, that's all in the past." I said smoothly as she looked at me angrily. "Hey, you know you hated me too at some point." I tried to defend myself. Even I knew she never hated me deep down. It just seemed that way to me. I wonder why I never considered that she was trying to help me whenever she shut me up. I mean, why am I so quick to take everything the wrong way?

Dad.

It's dumb, though. Now that I think about it, plenty of people love me. I guess it just took someone like Jaimie to get that through my head.

"Whatever. Get out some sort of work. I'm not getting in trouble for someone like Silva." he acted disgusted saying my name. He's such a teenager.

"Well, Jaimie, how do you propose we end the project?" I asked out loud.

"What kinda project is it? Wait, is that how you two got to know each other? Guess that would explain it." Mr. B guessed. Wow, he's psychic or something!

"Hey, this is an 'A' 'B' conversation, so 'C' your way outta it." I joked. "Nah, it's actually a poetry project."

"Oh wow, you got lucky, then! Jaimie, this boy is the Shakespeare of his time!" he began saying.

"I know. It kinda makes me feel inferior." Jaimie replied.

"Psh, you? I'm fourty-two and can only think of the stuff he does if I spend hours over a paper! It's frustrating!" he said. "I guess you won't need my help then."

"Exactly! And yet my teacher swears I didn't do any of the work! She thinks I'm retarded!" I said indignantly.

"Yeah, yeah. Same thing I hear every time. Does any teacher like you? Other than me, that is." he asked.

"If they did, I wouldn't see you this much, would I?" I laughed. God, maybe I was wrong about so many people loving me. I was just loved by the right ones.

"Well, I think we should... we could have them..."

"How about the angel gets taken from him? Or perhaps he could accidentally destroy her? I wanna end in tragedy. Please? I need to maintain some sort of cool status after a stunt like that in class today." I pleaded. Besides, there's plenty to write on that.

"I like the destroying idea. It's like they are both finally happy and comforted and then it's all taken away." she said. She seemed a little disturbed by it. Something made me worry it had to do with her nightmare last night. Oh well, though. She'd tell me if it were important. Mr. B was staring.

"You guys doing some sort of emo story?" he asked.

"Ha-Ha. No. We're doing a collection of poems explaining from two viewpoints how an angel falls in love with a demon. It's like beauty and the beast. Or, actually, kinda how it is between us." I explained happily.

"Aw, how cute." he mocked me.

"Hey, I was going to have a guy commit suicide because he was going insane, but she wanted some lovey dovey crap."

"Language, Silva." He scolded.

"My bad. But yeah."

"So what are you thinking about saying?" he pressed. I looked up and thought for a moment.

"His limp arms encompassed her/ Her warmth seeped in/ He finally felt some peace within./ Her tear streaked cheek rested upon his neck/ Was this reality? He'd rather not check/ Her hair tickled his nose as he breathed in her light/ He began to think a day could emerge from this night/ Then the blood tricked down to his hands/ It takes meer moments before he understands/ His angel was crushed in his final embrace/ Now forever in his chest was a cold empty space/ Where he prayed one day she may again return/ Nothing is so hard as love to relearn."

"That was deep. Very story-like, unlike your more poetic stuff." Mr. B noted.

"That was so... sad." Jaimie said and patted my hand. I must've looked a little down as I said this. It wasn't all fiction, I suppose. So many times had I worried that it was all in my head that she loved me and that I was going to hurt her more than love her. There's nothing more frightening than a girl in your arms for the first time; it's almost as though they would literally break if you hugged tight enough to show them just how much you loved them. So many times had this vision appeared in my nightmares. My angel, sweet angel, gone forever.

"Thanks." I said, and began writing down what I remember of what I'd just said.