Love's A Prick

I Talk To A Self-Satisfied Jerk

** Addison Whitley **

Idiot. Jerkface. Ignorant confident popular stupid dumbo. (I was sparing with my cusses.)

I mentally cursed him as he looked down at me.

This guy had nerve! Asking my help? After the stunt he played?

"I won't," I continued. "She doesn't need him and he muffed up the only chance he gets. Tell him to drown his sorrows in ice cream and live with it. Maybe a lap dance will help, that never fails to get his mood up. "

"You, miss, are looking at it all wrong. He was forced onto. Totally not his fault."

"Well, the stupid grin on his face tells us otherwise, does it not?"

"What stupid grin?," he snorted. "Maybe your friend there is a weensie bit blind, hmm? Maybe she was exaggerating. You shouldn't trust everything she says, you know."

"And what have I got to compare to a trustworthy person? A guy I just met who kidnaps me and asks for a favor to help his cheating best friend get my best friend back?" I snapped.

He set his jaw, and his eyes glinted. "Look, I don't know what your problem is, lady, but it wasn't his fault. So if you're not helping Aidan out because you think he cheated, know that he didn't. And if you're not helping him because of how much you hate me, I would have thought you a bit fairer than that."

"And if I'm not because Courtney hates his guts?," I countered.

He sighed. "If two people really love each other, there's a - a light in their eyes. Things move differently for them. Even the most prosaic of souls," he glared at me pointedly, "can see it."

I stifled a laugh. Felix, the (for lack of better words) playboy-iest playboy in the history of this playboydom of Arlington Heights, talking about a serious relationship. Then again, he did call me out on being sexist. Was I generalizing everyone? I like to think I'm fair. But maybe I'm not? What if he had had a serious girlfriend?

Then I reminded myself that I didn't care, and I got over it.

Also, his mood swings. He moved from psychotic to gallant to angry to romantic in matter of 5 minutes.

He was also immature, cocky, and downright crazy. Maybe I shouldn't be near him anymore. Maybe I'd become like him. Oh, the horror. I have to get back to school, now! For the sake of my sanity!

"Alright, mister," I crossed my arms. "I'll think about it. But for now, GET ME BACK TO SCHOOL."

He grinned. "Of course, Milady. Would you prefer the super-fast express or the slow one?"

"The one that won't kill me via a lung burst please."

"That would clash with most healthcare insurance plans," he nodded.

"So you do this on a daily basis? Bunking, I mean," I asked after a pause.

He shrugged. "The four walls of a classroom are too small for a person of my extraordinary mental capacities."

"Only you could make a deep comment like that sound conceited."

"It's one of my multiple virtues!"

"Do the world a favour and shut up," I laughed.

"The world would miss me too much. I'm important."

"You would be important only if you were the Dalai Lama or Hitler."

"I'm hot and rich and smart and awesome and funny. What more do you want?"

"Why is it," I asked absentmindedly, "that all rich people are good looking?"

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit. Why did I say that? I was already walking in a minefield, now I stepped on a mine.

"So, you admit that I'm hot." He enunciated the last word to rub it into my face.

It was all I could do to not blush.

"Ha ha no."

"Admit it. I might even give you a kiss for it!"

For one absolutely terrifying moment, I imagined me kissing him. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! HELP ME! SAVE ME! MY MIND IS TAINTED! ARMAGEDDON! APOCALYPSE!

"Never ever ever. Ever!" My voice rose with every word.

"Come on. It might be the only kiss you get!"

OK, that hurt. It was probably true. But still.

Maybe it registered on my face, because he immediately stopped grinning.

"I didn't mean that," he said quietly.

But he did. I shouldn't care. I wouldn't care. I don't care about kisses. I pressed my lips together into what I hoped was a convincing smile and shook my head no. It didn't affect me. Right?

"Come on. We've reached school." I said.

We walked to class, and I was literally 5 feet from the door of class when Felix grabbed my arm.

His grip was iron, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking instead across the hall.

"Dad."