Why Hello Mr. Nerd (HOLD)

Late Appointments and A Lot of Questions

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Chapter 2

...Late Appointments and A Lot of Questions...

The blank walls, the stench of over eagerness and dread, the eraser shavings and cartoons, drawn on the desk, formed from complete and utter boredom. The inevitable feeling of animosity. It was the day that we all begged the dear lord wouldn't come. It was the day that symbolized the end of freedom and sleeping in. It was Monday. Also known as, death of my spirit.

But why did it feel as if I was missing something?

And then it hit me like a wave of fucking nausea... The party, the drinking, the game, the dare.

And I had to ask out the nerd.

"Hey Ry?" I asked my best friend as we walked from his black Harley onto school grounds. My usual leather jacket paired with a 'Fuck Authority' tee-shirt and my favorite bleached shorts drew attention automatically, mostly from the guys on the lacrosse team.

I was the notorious 'badass' as they say. I don't really understand what makes me so badass, I'd say it was Ryder always hanging around me like the leech he was.

Don't get me wrong, he is my best friend, but he's a fucking ball of testosterone and annoyance most of the time.

Another reason for my 'badass' title would mostly be from my 'i-don't-give-a-shit' attitude or because I can't stay in class long enough for the lesson to start. I'm always the first one kicked out even when I don't do anything wrong. I swear these lazy ass teachers have it out for me.

This goes back to society's 'rules' in which there's a perfect description in the fine print of life telling you who is golden and who isn't. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and southern-bell accent usually fit the code. But my brown hair, hostility, and hatred of all things judging has labeled me as low class.

Just because my music isn't exactly clean and my clothes are a little of the 'delinquent' side, I'm considered a bad influence.

But, with no changes- as if I expected any- the football heads checked me out and nodded their heads in disapproval. As if I needed their fucking approval. The sneers from the cheerleaders from Hell didn't surprise me either when they clutched onto the biceps of said football heads to basically symbolize that they owned the meatheads.

"Yeah?" He asked nodding his head to some stupid tune that played from the skateboarders stereo whilst they chatted amongst themselves.

"Do you remember anything from that shitty party Saturday night?" I said recalling exactly what happened in that dark room with a crowd of people that wouldn't be seen together if the weren't under the influence in any way. Nope because that's the way shitty high school 'cliques' work. You don't remember or you chose not to and move on as if it never happened.

And as you can see trying to seem as nonchalant as possible doesn't work out too well for Auden Clark.

He shook his head before a lightbulb went off inside his head and he turned to me, freezing in his space and his eyes widened slightly. "Except for the fact that one of us has a hot date with a math nerd."

I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm and breathed through my nose trying to telepathically erase any existent memory of that party from Ryder's itty-bitty mind whatsoever. But my superhuman powers can't shove there way through the pounds of hair gel and thickass head to reach his gumball-sized brain and wipe the memory.

So I'm stuck with his constant reminder and excessive teasing about this *shudders* date.

~.~