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» CHAPTER TWO «

"Hello," he greeted with an evil grin.

I quit wiping off his shirt. My eyes turned to thin slits. "You?"

"You're still mad at me?" Brian asked, smiling deviously.

"Brian, you costed me a zero on that paper. Do you know how much that hurt my grade?"

"I'm SO sorry..." He loved using sarcasm.

"Why don't you take your famous, pansy, all looks, no brains, sissy, no worth keester home to your mommy? Or perhaps your latest conquest?" I insulted him.

Brian liked this game we played frequently. "My turn!" He cracked his knuckles. "Where'd you find that ugly ‘outfit'? A cheesy vintage store? Your attic? Oh, I know! The trash! Am I right? You couldn't afford any REAL clothes because of two itsy, bitsy, teeny, tiny things: one: you're cheap and two: your latest fling dumped you and took all your money!" I couldn't handle myself. But he kept on rolling. "And come on! What did you do to your hair? Did a blind man cut it? Did you get too close to your electrical circuit? Or did you cut it in a dark closet? I mean, look at it! One side's shorter than the other! It looks like you got in a fight with your scissors and lost! And your face. Did God just forget to read the directions on you and got careless? You look like one of those Picasso paintings!"

I let go of my rage that I held back for too long. I slapped him as hard as I could. Square on the jaw. He just stood there, timid. He was pissed at me. I could tell.

¤ Chapter 3 ¤
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