Twelve Boyfriends

Chapter 2

I sign about 4,000 yearbooks, and get exhausted. Unfortunately I got some stupid comments from some dickwad boys In the 'trusty class of 2018'.

Here are a few:

Nice ass!

Nice tits!

Call me.

You're hot.

Your sister is still hotter than you.

Fuck them all. They're such perverts.

Honestly, I get the whole 'memory' thing, but signing yearbooks is kinda pointless. In eighth grade, that is. I think that I should only have to sign the yearbooks of the people moving districts. I see no reason to sign all the other people's yearbooks, solely for the reason that I will see 99.9% of them next year in high school. Signing yearbooks is REALLY important Senior year, because you really most likely will never see any of them again, unless you get their numbers in your yearbook. That's when you should get their numbers. But whatever.

They play high school musical after the final bell rings, which gets people all revved up, (strangely enough) and they all start running toward the door. Me being a civilized Freshman student, well, I continue to walk. I'm in no rush to get to my summer. It's already here.

I hop on the bus, and put my headphones in. I'm about to play the music when I hear a wonderful conversation about my ass, occurring between a few assholes sitting in the seats across and behind me.

'Alex the asshole' looks over at me. "HELLLLOO? Can you hear me??"

I just stare at my sperrys up on the seat, pretending not to hear him. I want to see the look on his face when he realizes I can hear him. I can't wait to kick his sorry ass.

The one in the very back, Peyton, laughs. "She can't hear you dude. Lol."

Alex laughs. "Oh my god. Those yoga shorts doe. And what is her bra size? Damnnnn. She's getting hotter every day. I can't wait to see her in that bikini-"

I cut him off. Here comes the ass-kicking.

I grab the collar of his shirt, and jerk him out of his seat. The bus driver is focusing on her Mc.Donalds happy meal, and is watching the road, so she doesn't care.

"Listen here, you little prick, cause I'm only going to say this once. If you EVER so much as BLINK in my direction again, I WILL DROPKICK YOUR BALLS SO FAR AWAY, THAT YOUR INTIMACY WILL HAVE COMPLETELY VANISHED BY THE TIME YOU RETRIEVE THEM. Understood?"

His friends start to crack up. I point at them and sneer, "Who wants to go next??"

That shuts em' up.

His face is priceless. He looks like he soiled his fucking pants. And I get the best award of all.

All the girls on the bus start applauding, and I curtsy, letting go of his collar and dropping him to the ground.

Ah. Don't you just love giving assholes what they deserve? HHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAH.

I do.

That's the difference; between me and Chloe. She lets boys treat her this way. She takes it as flattery. But I, hah. NO SIREE. If you make one smart remark, you best be prepared for a black eye.