Kiss the Girl

5 years ago, this would never have occurred to me. 5 years ago, I became friends with Liam. Actually, 5 years ago, I hated Liam. He was notorious in Everton High. All the girls would gossip, some of the guys too. Liam Benedict, was known for being a total lady-killer. And the reason I got to know him, was because he managed to kill a certain lady, who happened to be my best friend and the time. And the best thing is, Liam wasn’t even very good-looking, or smart, or funny, he wasn’t anything amazing at all. And when he decided to break my friend’s heart, I decided to break his face.

THWACK.

“JESUS CHRIST! WHAT THE FUCK!?!” Liam shouted, he held his nose, something may have cracked under the pressure. I shook my hand, that hurt more than I thought it would. Jenna was screaming, and running towards me.

“Oh my god, what did you do!?” She screamed, pulling me away from the wreckage. Liam was still dripping blood, it spattered onto the linoleum flooring. He was cursing up a storm.

“Next time you thinking about two-timing, three-timing, or timing however many girls you think makes you ‘look cool’, think again, especially if one of them is my friend you jerk.” I snarled at him. I believe that I was most running on adrenaline at that point.

“Oh shit, shit, we gotta go Cat, you have to not make a scene.” Jenna tugged at my arm. I looked in the direction she was looking at, and we bolted.

I never did say sorry to Liam about that day. But then again, he spent most of his time cursing me and swearing at me. He never told the Disciplinary that it was me who hit him and spilled his blood to the nasty bluish linoleum.

Summer came round, and we had a nice long break, I had just returned from my visit to my family in Hong Kong, and was ready for the start of a new year. Junior Year.

I sat in art class, waiting for the bell, Mr. Smith was at the front, scribbling some notes about Van Gogh on the blackboard. The chalk screeched and scraped against the board with the most unsettling feeling. I felt a presence beside me, which was strange, I didn’t really talk to anyone in my art class from my previous year. I looked up, and there before me stood Liam. Holding a newly purchased sketchbook.

“Oh shit.” I thought to myself.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked with a wry smile. I looked around the room, the class was pretty full, I hadn’t been paying attention.

“Uh, no, go ahead,” I said making an awkward gesture to the seat across. He pulled off his backpack and left it on the ground, opening up his sketchbook and taking out a set of graphite pencils. He turned to look at Mr. Smith and was seemingly, engrossed. Did he forget? That I was the girl who punched him out in the middle of the hallways of our forlorn High, where he would be shamed for all to see? Just as I completed the thought, he turned to me and said.

“I didn’t forget you by the way.”

“Uhhhh,” was all I could manage.