Love is for Losers

LIFL - Chapter Five

He caught up to me after school, though. I sighed, the 3rd time in one day, and whirled round to face him.

He was out of breath from running and I couldn't get a word out of him for at least fifteen minutes and then he started opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish.

"Oh, spit it out. I have a life, you know."

I put my hands on my hips impatiently.

"Will you... go ou-"

"No." I trudged off.

"But-"

I span round on my heel. "N-O spells no. Is it so hard for you guys to understand? Now say bye-bye to my face and hello to my back."

I performed another 180º turn. The heels on my shoes must've been wearing out by then.

"Mum, dad, I'm home!" I announced as I slipped in through the front door. "Oh, yeah, that's right. Nobody cares. But if Sir Precious Idiot walks through the door, a golden arch and fifty beautiful girls singing his theme tune are waiting for him." I muttered to myself as I hiked up the stairs, wishing that I could slide up the banister like Mary Poppins, glared at Kyle's stupid Keep Out sign and pushed open my bedroom door. My bright wall displays met my eyes instantly. I walked over to my bed and stroked Kiwi who gave a sleepy but warm "meow". Kiwi is so-called because when I was about five and she was a month old kitten she jumped onto the dining table, knocked over my half-brother's third favourite dessert of ice-cream and kiwi (after chocolate cake and teenage girls' hearts. Kidding), and lapped it up merrily. Mum fussed, Kyle cried, dad was disturbed from his work; therefore I found it hysterical.

Mum had wanted to call her Kyla, of course; Kyle had wanted to call her Alexis, after his current girlfriend - yes, he even had girls kissing his feet when he was eight - and dad probably wanted to call her Computer or Study or Paperwork or something. It was me with my brilliant five-year-old brain that christened her Kiwi.

"There are really some brain-dead guys in the world, Kiwi" I whispered.

She stretched and sat up, watching me intently and clearly listening to my every word.

Scratching her behind the ears, I continued: "I don't understand why any idiot wants to even know me. Let alone ask me out. It's not as if I want them to."

Kiwi seemed to nod her head sympathetically.

"I don't even think I would want to know me."

Depressed, my head drooped and I let my hand slip from Kiwi's delicate body. At this, she padded closer, placing her two front paws on my thighs and extending her neck to gently push up my chin.

I smiled. Then I allowed myself another heavy breath and collapsed onto the inviting comfort of my bed.

I felt a familiar warm tickle as Kiwi nested against my pale right cheek. And finally, I closed my eyes.

I don't know how long I slept for. All I know is that I woke with the dreadful sound of ringing bells. I reached out to turn off my alarm clock (knocking it off of the bedside table in the process) and forced open my eyes to see the light of not morning, but early evening.

Groaning, I prised my face away from an again sleepy Kiwi.

"MUM! DOOR!!!"

I made my way to the landing and was about to shout something snide about missing the opportunity to greet Mummy's Little Boy, when I saw the crack of light seeping through his door that he had obviously not bothered to close properly when he came home. It wasn't open before and Mum couldn't have gone in because a few months ago there had been a huge episode from Kyle about her little visits into his room. Don't make me go into detail.

Okay, so Kyle was home. I glanced downstairs. The shadow behind the front door showed through and weirdly enough, looked patient after at least ten minutes of waiting.

I clunked down the stairs. I was disorientated and my head hurt, so it felt like I had a hangover. Nearly twisting my ankle about six times, I finally reached the end of the staircase and went to the door.

I should have guessed who it was from the horribly familiar wad of tangles that's apparently called "hair" to him. I suppose I was still half asleep.

I squinted as a blinding flash of a smile greeted me behind the door.

"Oh, God." I scowled, "Are they doing door-to-door annoyances now?"

Zachary shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly. Honestly, I've never seen such a pathetic human being. And now he was stalking me, too.

"Seriously, you're freaking me out now. Just leave me alone. Bye-bye!" I was so close to being rid of him. Just another moment and the door would have been closed, but mum had to butt in.

"Victoria! Who is this?" She bobbed up from behind me, peering over my shoulder, "A boy? Finally! I thought this day would never come!" She squealed excitedly.

I looked at her in disgust and slammed the door shut.

Mum was horrified, "Victoria! Is that any way to treat a guest?"

"He's not a guest, he's a stalker." I argued, but she wasn't listening. She was too busy ushering the creep into our house, apologising over and over.

Yet another person above me on my mother's list of favourite people.