The High School from Hell

"Deaf, Blondie?" He smirked. "I said date." Huma... huhahha... huwuwhaha... mmauha... hhaua... Oh... my... good... God.

SAY SOMETHING.

Amhemhehew...

Yes, no, I don't care just say SOMETHING.

Uaahh... aooohhh... aah... oh my god.

Addy, SPEAK. USE. YOUR. WOOOORRRDSAAAHH.

But-- but-- wah-- wha-- whe-- aaauuhh...

Breath... Addy, breath! You're spacing out!

Okay, okay... We're breathing, we're going to pretend that this conversation never happened. I stood, made a funny noise, and ran, stumbling, out the door. Okay, crisp air. Breathing, breathing. Not freaking out because my... neighbor... enemy... psycho-head... whatever... just.. okay, not going to finish that sentence while I still have the ability to walk.

"Hey, where are you goin'!" I jumped and started smacking every bit of the bastard I could reach.

"You MORON. STUPID, STUPID, STUPID! What made you believe, FOR ONE SECOND, that you could SAY something like that! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!" I shouted, stomping away from him, waving my hands angrily in the air.

"Do you always react like this when a guy asks you out?" He smirked. I stopped my savage stalking starting hitting him again.

"OH YOU SON OF A BITCH!" I snarled, "You know perfectly well-- that's not the-- why don't you--"

"Am I making you speechless?" He grinned. That would be the point were I socked him in the jaw. "OW! DAMNIT BLONDIE!"

"Oh that is so not helping your case!" I snapped.

"My case? Blondie I asked you out on a date,--" he groaned rubbing his chin.

"LIAR!" I cut in, "You said, and I quote 'my date' meaning to something. And know that I think about, its gotta be pretty damn awful too because you OBVIOUSLY needed incentive to make sure I wouldn't, no strike that, COULDN'T say no. Which means I'm REALLY not going to want to do it."

"Well, you're not as blonde as you look." He rolled his eyes.

"Oh you think you're being funny, but its only gonna get you an ass kicking." I said waspishly.

"Look, you're right, you can't say no--"

"Tha-ha-hat's where you're wrong. Why should I do ANYTHING for your LYING, manipulative, ass? Whatever it is, its not gonna happen." I walked away back toward the house, when he grabbed my arm. "Oh-oh-oh-ho-ho, that was a bad move." I raised my fist.

"Despite the fact you think you're this great badass--," He said grabbing my wrists and pulling closer, and pulling me right out of fighting position. "--You're still about half my size, and I can still overpower you with brute strength. So are you going to here me out or not?"

"Uh, how about not." I twisted from his grip, smacking his shoulder, and walked away growling.

"Addy--"

"Hey guys!" Aaron ran up to us, caught the look on my face and said, "Oh you told her, I told not to do it today." He said reproachfully.

He-- wha-- ha-- tha-- wha--

Oh boy...

OH BOY IS DAMN STRAIGHT!

"YOU KNEW?!"

"Well, yeah." He seems genuinely surprised, "I was the one who told him you'd never do it unless he had something on you."

...

A-Addy?

...

Oh boy.

...

Not good..

THEY ARE SO DEAD!

"Rest assured, I am going to kill you both," I said deadly calm, pointing a finger at each of them, "But as today is the day Jesus was freaking born, I'm going to hold off until midnight so I suggest that you two idiots stay out of my sight after that point in time unless you want to be castrated. Comprende?" I took a very deep breath and stalked away from them, up the house and slammed the door shut on my way in.

"Hey Addy, Kate invited us to dinner Saturday, isn't that great?" OH yeah just brilliant. I grimaced and went quickly up the stairs to my room. Brilliant, how're we gonna get out of this one now Addy?

Beats the hell out of me.

Yep. Me too.

---------------------------------------------------------

How much fun is avoiding the inevitable?

Was that sarcastic?

Yes.. and.. no.

What's that supposed to mean?

It means I'm having the time of my life at Rexy's house, which I've been hiding out at ever since Christmas, Nathan's been great. Totally ready to kick some ass, and get some revenge. The no part is I have to go home for more than to sleep or my dad will either get really suspicious or get himself into trouble and no doubt I'll end up conned into whatever that thing that Bastard has that requires me to be his date, which is so not going to happen. The other problem is that tomorrow is Saturday and dad expects me to go with him to this stupid dinner thing. Yeah that's gonna suck. Hinder's "Get Stoned", went off and Nathan answered his phone, while I kicked monster ass on Final Fantasy X2, "DIE DIE DIE, KICK ASS RIKKU!"

"Hey man, yeah... 'Course she is... wondered why you didn't call earlier... no kidding... when and where..? All right... yeah no problem... I bet she did... yeah, see yah..." He hung up and grinned at me. "Wanna go for drive?"

"Wha-- as you can plainly see I'm kicking monster ass right now!" I said, slamming my thumbs on the PS2 controller. "DIE SCUMBAG, HAH BIZNATCHED! I so win." I grinned as my characters did a victory dance.

"Now will you come," He whined.

"I have to get to a save point!" I whined back.

You two are such nerds.

HEY!

You're playing FFX2 for heaven's sake.

Its fun!

DDR?

FUN!

Monopoly?

... I like monopoly...

Life?

I am good at that game!

Hide and Go Seek?

... I freaking hate you. You know that right?

I know.

SAVE POINT! OW, are you shaking your head in my brain? Stop that!

I can't help it. You asked for it.

Did not, and don't do it again, because that freaking hurt.

"You ready?" Nathan said anxiously.

"What is with you?" I scoffed, "You're like a kid in the anticipation of a candy store."

"Hmm.. I was sure you'd go with Christmas." He grinned grabbing his keys.

"I almost did, but then I remember it already past," I made a weighing motion, "Neeehh... candy store won over." I shrugged.

"Good choice." He led the way to the car.

"Thank you." I said hopping into the shotgun. "Soo... Why are we going for a drive, just out of curiosity?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Nathan smirked.

"You mean if you told me I'd have to kill you." I smirked back.

"So insightful. When did you figure out we were going someplace, how do you always put it? Unpleasant." He grinned, turning up the radio.

"'Go for a drive'? You usually have something more creative in mind." I said giving him my best Sherlock Holmes impression, "Elementary, my dear Nathan."

"Wait, so I'm Watson? That technically makes me the sidekick." He said indignantly, parking at the Starbucks entrance.

"Awh, you know you're the Superman to my Supergirl." I gushed mockingly. "Starbucks? Really? Not that I don't love a good iced Caramel Macciato, extra caramel, I love the whip cream here," I said making my girly sarcastic face, "But Starbucks?"

"We needed somewhere public." He said beckoning me through the door. I walked about five feet into the shop, dreaming of a pastry, that's when I spotted him.

"I am going to kill you!" I whispered menacingly, pointing an accusing finger at my former best friend. "No. No, no, no, no, STRIKE that, I am going to slowly torture you until the pain is so much you die from the agony."

"Does that mean I'm not Superman anymore?" Nathan gasped.

"I will deal with you later! Get in the car!" I snapped, like a mother reprimanding her disobedient adolescent, "Get in the car!" I pointed out the door, and he walked with a hurt childlike expression as I smiled just slightly and shook my head. Okay, deep breath, I walked over to Matt's table and sat down. "Hello, dear, how was your day? Is that scone for me?" I said in my best bubbly house wife voice, grabbing his cinnamon scone and liked it. "Never mind, you can have it."

"Oh, are you angry with me?" He tilted his head sardonically.

"Ohohoho, let's not even go there." I entwined my fingers together on the table and smiled with difficulty. "So, what do you have on Nathan?"

"Absolutely nothing, he owes me a little favor, and lets not forget I've lived here way longer than you have, Nate and I go way back." He smirked.

"Oh I'm sure," I snorted.

"Despite what you may believe, Blondie, the whole wide world didn't just start up when you got here." He rolled his eyes.

"Ow, damn. So what is it? What is this big bad dark secret that I've been avoiding, wanna tell me what it is so I can tell you no faster?" I growled.

"What makes you think you'll be able to say no?" He said, looking smug.

"Just tell me what it is, Matty-poo, before I jump this table and rip your heart out." I said, my voice shaking in anger.

"Damn girl, I didn't know you had it in you." I growled menacing at this comment, "Alright, alright, alright. Every year my dad's work has this retarded annual New Years Eve ball, every year I have to go with a brunette, braces, glasses, bulldog underbite. Not the most entertaining either, she has a unicorn collection. This year, back in October, I am determined not to go with bulldog underbite. Dad gives me until this Saturday to find a date, catch they have to know how to dance, as in had lessons. Then like magic your grand birthday party, and the knowledge that you are the progeny of the ballroom champions."

"Ahahaha. No way in hell." I snarled, standing.

"Too late." He grinned, stretching his hands behind his head.

"What d'you mean 'too late'?" I slammed my hands on the table, ignoring the looks coming from the coffee drinkers around me.

"I already told my mother you said yes." He smirked, leaning in.

"You. Did. What?" I breathed, barely controlling my hands which were itching to reach around his neck.

"Oh yeah, you're going dress shopping on Sunday. Mikey can't wait, she never really liked underbite either." He laughed.

"Ah there's the maniacal laughter I've been looking for." I shook my head in anger.

"But seriously, if you think you're that much of an ice bitch to cancel on my mom and my sweet baby sister, go right ahead." He grinned, standing from the table and leered down at me.

"I hate you." I said spitefully.

"You're a marshmallow Blondie," He slipped on his jacket, "Always have been always will be."

"I'm going to publicly destroy your life, I swear. Life scarring humiliation. You just keep that in mind."

"See ya Saturday." He gave me one last sick grin before he walked out. That son of a bitch. Now I REALLY don't care if Johnny kills, in fact I hope he does, but not before I MASACRE him. And mark my words, I sooo, so will. Matt just messed with the wrong marshmallow.

Appending doom? Check. Torturous shopping expo? Check. The dinner from hell? Check. The date from hell? Double check. Loving, patronizing father? Check. Friends who sell you out but still can't be angry with? Check. Best friend who spends waaaay to much time with her boyfriend to help? Check. Refusing all help from best guy buddie? Check. Call to my favorite diabolical cousin about amazing revenge? Not check. Its not that I don't want him to burn, because trust me I do, I just don't know if I'm as much of an, how did he put it? Ice bitch, at least I don't know if I want to be responsible for scarring a man through the cruelest years of his life, were people are ten times meaner and twenty times... I'm not sure what twenty times it is but, I just don't think I can humiliate him for the next two years of his life if he's lucky. Speaking from experience here.

See I know you had something resembling a heart.

Oh ha ha. Highly amusing.

You just said you couldn't do it.

I said I didn't know if I could do it, that doesn't mean I'm not going to or that I'm not going to find a way to live with myself later.

Nice. What makes you think that you actually will, you know.

'Cause I'm cool like that, but here's a thought, why don't you get out of my head and go play with those llamas you like so much.

Hey!

Hey what?

That wasn't very nice at all!

A-are you-- are you serious? Seriously serious? You're not going to cry in my brain, are you? DON'T. YOU EVEN. DARE. My brain's screwed up enough as it is.

I know.

OH. Well played. I'd applause if it wouldn't make me look crazy.

Well, thank you.

You're welcome. Now, what does a girl where to the previously mention dinner from hell? Dad said to look nice, but I don't see the problem with my normal attire...

Ripped jeans and a Invader Zim tee?

Its not always Invader Zim and you know it. But that's beside the point. I slipped on my favorite holey pair of comfortable jeans and a, just to spite my inner voice, black Gir tee. Slipping on my green checkered vans I raced down the stairs and twirled before my father.

"Do you even own a pair of jeans without holes?" He said with a quirked eyebrow.

"My God you're starting to sound like a dad!" I gasped, bending down to pet my dog fiercely, the St. Bernard puppy Matty darling found. "Who's a good boy, Biscuit?"

"Guess what, I am a dad! Are you seriously calling that poor dog Biscuit?" He shook his head.

"Uh yeah," I said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "And get it right, its Bistcuit II." I corrected.

"You're seriously naming him after your grandmothers dead bulldog?" He said shrugging on his jacket and tossing mine to me.

"That thing may have been slobbery and mean but he kicked some serious ass." I shrugged grinning, slipping on my own jacket and jumping into the car. "And let's not forget how many realtors he bit in the ass." I added turning up the radio, banging my head slightly to the music.

"You know, back in my day we listen to cooler stuff than this," My dad said, with that 'back in my day' expression.

"You mean back when hair was mile high and 'Ice Ice Baby' was totally 'da bomb'." I grinned.

"Ah yes. Whatever to 'da bomb'?" He asked nastolgicly.

"I think it went out with the Power Rangers and the ridiculous clashing fashion sense." I sniggered.

"Aren't the Power Rangers still on TV?"

"Yep but seriously not as cool, or maybe I'm too old. Who knows." I stepped out from the car and straight into Kate arms. SHE'S-- SQUEEZING-- ME-- TO-- DEATH--!

"Oh I'm so glad you're going with us on Monday! Its going to be so much fun, Mikey is really excited about tomorrow. You like French food right?" She said leading me into the French restaurant.

"Like French food? I live off French food, I'm more French than American." I said as she sat me down between her and Mikey, where's Matt's dad? Aparently he's not coming. Great. I am succumbed to girl talk all night. French food is my only reprieve. Matt smirked triumphantly across the table over at me as Mikey explained all about how happy she was that Bulldog Underbite wasn't going, I was going to have so much fun! Pfft, yeah. Four hours of New Years Eve torture featuring Matt Silent the Demon Spawn. That should be amazing fun.

WAIT WAIT!! SARCASM SIGN! HOLD UP THE SARCASM SIGN!!

OH I forgot about the sarcasm sign. Ready?

Ready.

SARCASM.

Yes.

Alright. What's Mikey been talking about.

I don't know, pay attention.

"--green, you definitely look best in green, because you're eyes are hazel. Earth colors. And we'll definitely need to do something about your hair." Kate was saying when I finally pulled myself back into reality.

"Sorry, spaced out for a moment, what were you saying?" I said just as the waiter came to take our orders.

"Crêpe Suzette, with strawberries on the side, and creme soda please. Thank you." I said handing him my menu and continuing the conversation with Matt's mom.

"I was saying,--" She handing her own menu to the waiter, "-- you should probably were green and your hair--,"

"What about my hair?" I said indignantly.

"Well you're natural blonde is fine my dear but your ends are blue and purple. It wouldn't really go with green--"

"The hair stays." I smiled good-naturedly, "S'my thing." I grinned. "I could always change it back to red."

"Hmmm.." She gave me that critical parenty look.

"Black goes with green," Mikey chipped in, "And it would probably be the easiest to go over the blue and purple."

"Mmm," I made a face, "That may be a little too Avril Lavigne for me.."

"I think Avril Lavigne is too Avril Lavigne." Matt mumbled and I snorted. I caught his and looked down quickly.

"I don't have a problem with Avril Lavigne, per say." I shrugged.

"Just a problem with looking like her?" He chuckled. "Besides, you can't sing."

"I can't sing but I can kick your--" I stopped as our food came.

"Do you always order dessert before dinner?" Matt sneered. I opened my mouth to snap at him when my dad sent me a warning look. Fine.

"Just felt like something sweet." I said politely through gritted teeth.

"That's ironic." He muttered and I kicked his leg from under the table, non chalantly taking a bite of crêpes and strawberries, slapping Matts hand as he tried to steal one of my strawberries.

"Don't even think about it." I growled.

"Ow. That wasn't very nice." He said mock seriously.

"Don't touch my food--" Ooooh crap. That is SO not good. So. So. SO not good. Can this night get any worse?