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PROBLEM VII | The Green Eyed Boy
Y'know, It is human nature to despise something that you're doing forcefully. Yeah, things do sometimes look up to you and you enjoy doing it, but that is absolutely not the case over here.
Being forced into a car by Houston Mellark—aka, the biggest Jock of Lakeville High, is something a whore, a slut, a queen bee, a cheer squad girl, or an attention seeker would love. Fortunately, I do not fall under those categories.
Houston locked my side of the car when I tried to pry it open and hop out. The green eyed boy is giving me just too many reasons to hate him for—He's annoying and he's a Jock.
Shooting him my best glare, I smacked him upside the head. "Open the Goddamn door!" Houston rubbed the back of his head and said, "Geez woman, did you not learn that violence is not the key to anything?" I smirked, "Yes, I did. But in the end it was a war that ended things," I said, feeling proud of the fact I wasn't totally blank on History.
Houston laughed, "Aren'tcha such a nerd, huh?"
I rolled my eyes mockingly, "You can believe whatever you want. Just drive." The green eyed boy smirked at me, "What did you say?"
Rolling my eyes, I repeated my statement, though that did not make the smirk fall off his face. Oh, how I hate that smirk! For some apparent reason, every Jock I have ever talked to, has always had a smirk plastered his face. It's irritating. It's annoying. It's aggravating. Fuck, It's provoking!
"What's the magic word, love?"
I glared at him, tangling my arms in a cross over my chest. "Too bad, I never learnt the 'magic word'." Houston rolled his eyes again and for heaven's sake stated to drive. When we were back in the town, I began telling him directions to my house, but the jock seemed to not pay any attention. "I know where you live Clover. No offence, but your voice becomes annoying after a while."
I huffed in annoyance and folded my arms across my chest, "Not as much as yours does," I muttered. We came to a stop, I looked up when Houston cut the engine, "This is it, isn't it?"
"Yeah stalker, this is it."
Houston rolled his eyes. And I swear, if his eyeballs fall off, he alone would be to blame. "I did not stalk you love. No offence, but you aren't that lucky."
"Yes Jock, that's because I'm flipping blessed."
***
Patient people are lucky people. I remember how in my childhood, my parents used to tell me to gain some patience. And I also remember Grace—my only best friend, telling me to practice some patience. Too bad I never listened. Now, I swear, I regret that I didn't. Patient people do not get restless, remained calm, and do not get much annoyed. All, unlike me.
