Aggressive Me, Passive You

Chapter Seven

EDITED

Chapter Seven - Not So Study Session With You

"Sorry if it's hot, my AC is broken. I'm getting it fixed this weekend." Hunter sorrily looked at me.

He wasn't lying about it being hot. Even though it was five in the afternoon, the sun had set but the air was still humid. He had all the windows rolled down, but it was still too hot. I could feel my hair sweating underneath my sew-in.

"It's cool." I said.

We would be getting out of the car soon, so I wasn't too annoyed with the heat, but he needed to get this fixed as soon as possible because my ass was not getting in this car again without a functioning air conditioning system.

"Okay," he nodded his head, "you can pick the music. I know black people don't like white music."

"There's no such thing as black and white music." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Yes it is. Black people listen to rap and hip-hop and white people listen to rock, country, and pop."

He sounded so sure of himself. I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest.

"How you know I don't listen to country music?"

"Do you?"

"No."

"Then I rest my case."

It was starting to become an awkward atmosphere in the car. It was like he said those types of things on purpose. He knew I was going to get angry and he probably wanted a reaction, but I wasn't going to give it to him. He already thought all black girls were loud and ghetto, so I didn't want to give him more to add onto. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction, so I didn't say anything. I was going to remain cool.

"Yeah, okay." I mumbled, rolling my eyes. "Where are we going again?"

"Taco Bell."

When we arrived to Taco Bell, the drive-thru was packed but the parking lot only had about five cars. Hunter parked the car, we grabbed our book bags, and went in.

"Let's pick a spot in the back and then order our food." He pointed to the seats.

"Wouldn't it make sense to order our food first and then sit down? That's what normal people do."

"Do you always disagree with everybody?" He narrowed his eyes at me.

"I'm just sayin'." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Okay then, what do you want?"

"I'll just come up there witchu and order."

"I can order it."

"I still gotta pay."

"I'll pay for you." He impatiently said. "If I'm already ordering my food, it would be rude for me not to pay for your food."

Well, I'll be damned. Samantha was right; the school's golden boy was going to pay for me because he didn't have it in himself not to. He did get on my nerves most of the time, out of the three days that  I had known him, but nonetheless, he was a nice guy. I didn't know too many nice guys. All I knew were players and douchebags—they fell under the same category if you asked me. Then again, how nice could he be if he constantly said things about black people? Was he really ignorant or did he do it on purpose?

"Thanks." I nodded my head.

"No worries. Think of it as a favor." He politely smiled, showing his white teeth.

Hunter loved to smile, when he wasn't trying to argue with me about my culture. He was alright, I guess. I still didn't think of him as a friend, though; it would have to take a lot more than a club to do that. I just didn't connect with white people like that. They didn't understand a thing about black people. Sam was literally my only white friend. She tried to understand the problems that black people faced in the modern world, and she asked about it if she didn't understand. Hunter on the other hand, just assumed he already knew based on stereotypes.

"I'll pay you back." I added on but he waved me off and went to order, before handing me his backpack.

I nearly fell from the heavy weight of his backpack. What was he carrying in here—bricks? I sat our things down at a table in the back.

Wait.

I never told him what I wanted to order. My eyes widened and I quickly shot up from my seat because he was the next person in line and the person before him was receiving their food.

"I want two chicken quesadillas." I held up two fingers and Hunter chuckled at me.

"What drink?"

"Lemonade."

"Alright."

He came to the table I was sitting at with a tray in his hands. He set it down in the middle of the table.

"Thanks." I said again.

"It's no problem."

"Did you get some sauce?"

"No."

"What person orders Taco Bell and don't get sauce?" I shook my head, chuckling.

"Sorry." He chuckled, unwrapping his food.

"I'ma go get some sauce. What kind do you want?"

"Mild."

"Why not hot or fiery? You're so lame, spice it up, White Boy. No wonder why Elizabeth don't like you back." I joked.

"For the last time, I do not have a crush on her! And if you don't stop calling me White Boy, I'm going to call you Black Girl." He playfully rolled his eyes.

"Whateva you say, White Boy. I'ma get the sauce and then we'll finish the conversation." I said and walked away, before returning to the table. "Alright, I'm back." I threw the packets of sauce on the tray. I sat down back in my spot. "Let's continue our conversation."

"We have homework to tend to."

"So, we can eat first and then work on homework." I shrugged my shoulders. "Why do you like Elizabeth?"

"I don't like her." He shook his head too fast for me to believe him.

"That's what you say." I narrowed my eyes at him.

Red splotches formed on his tan cheeks. He was blushing and had the nerve to say he didn't like her.

"I can get her to like you." I pointed to him after I took a big bite out of my quesadilla.

"That's crazy." He waved me off. "How would you do that? Every guy wants her."

"And every girl in the school wants you. You're just oblivious so you don't notice the way they stare at you. Elizabeth will want you when I get done."

"There's nothing wrong with me to fix." He looked at me with hurt in his eyes.

"There's plenty to fix." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Like what?"

"I don't wanna talk now. Maybe later."

"You should come over my house when we leave here. We're not gonna get much homework done."

"Okay."