When Perfect Meets Crazy

34 - A rebellion and a great lie

An awkward bit of silence passed till I finally looked up, meeting his gaze.

"I hate that," I added softly.

He blinked.

He stared.

I averted my gaze.

He cleared his throat.

"Do you know what we should do?" he said suddenly after the most awkward beat of silence.

"What?"

"Screw her over," he answered. "Like seriously. You're crazy smart. You can come up with a legit plan and I'll carry it out."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't pity me."

"You?" He raised his eyebrows. "Whoever pities you is completely stupid and contrary to what you believe, I'm not. I know you're tough. Too tough even. I know what you're capable of." He gave a one shoulder jerk. "I'm not denying that it must've hurt but I know you so I'm not even going to say sorry."

I arched one eyebrow, disbelief coloring my face especially at the last part of his statement.

"You heard right." He held my gaze. "Besides you've insulted me way too often for me not to know you have a tough skin. Remember all the times you outright called me dumb. Not to mention the times you implied it."

A gasp of surprised laughter bubbled out of me.

"I used 'idiot' more than the other adjectives," I corrected. "For accuracy's sake."

His face suddenly turned serious.

"I have a question."

My smile collapsed.

"What?"

"I'd ask Claire myself but... it feels like a touchy subject so I'd just rather ask you than go behind your back. I've seen you in action so I'd rather not be a target."

"What you want to know?" I asked reluctantly.

"Claire. How did she manage to pull one on you? You have eyes in the back of your head. I'd like to know how she did it."

I released the breath I had been holding, relief flooding through me.

All that anxiety for nothing.

I shook my head exasperatedly. "You're insane."

For some reason, all I suddenly wanted to do was laugh. So I did but once I started, I couldn't stop.

The whole while, I was conscious of Ian's confused gaze on me.

"No seriously," he said.

I could see why that nugget of information would be important to him, especially since he'd never successfully pulled one on me himself.

"I was quiet in middle school. Harmless," I answered, forcing myself to swallow the rest of my laughter.

At the word 'harmless,' he flashed me a skeptical frown.

I smiled.

"It's true," I reaffirmed. "I grew up smart and when you're that smart from a young age, you naturally become the teacher's pet. You have people comparing others to you. Saying how you're smart, not disruptive and things like that. It warps you a little bit." I shrugged, doing my best to ignore the sudden bout of self consciousness. "You start feeling like you always have to be just that - smart, quiet, not disruprive- to be accepted."

He nodded slowly.

"So," I said brightly, shaking the melancholy off as best as I could. "I was quiet and not disruptive the way smart kids always are. It was part of what spurred my rebellious phase on."