Perfectly Imperfect

Treintaicuatro: Mental Abuse To Humans II

"Okay, so, Sally has—"

"Don't make that her name." Jax scrunched up his nose. "Make it Jasmine. That's a hot name," he said with a nod and a smirk playing on his lips.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, Jasmine has 73 kiwis. She eats 25 per hour. How long does it take her to finish all her kiwis?

He didn't respond. He just stared at me, confused.

I sighed. "C'mon man, this is like 5th grade level stuff."

He blinked and shook his head.

"No, I know that," he rolled his eyes. "Who eats 25 kiwis per hour?!" His brows were raised and his hands were in the air from exasperation.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Jasmine?"

He shook his head. "That is a freakish amount of fruit."

I rolled my eyes. "Stop judging Jasmine's eating habits, and just answer the question."

"Fine," he moaned reluctantly.

He picked up his pencil and looked down at the paper. He stayed like this for a good three seconds.

Then, "twenty five per hour? That's crazy!"

I buried my face into my hands with a groan. "Ay, qué tonto."

"Hey!" His head shot up.

Mine followed. "Oh, you understood that?" I asked with wide eyes.

"Yes. What do you think I am? stupid?" He growled at me.

You'd think he'd know the answer to that considering I just called him a fool in Spanish. I inhaled to enlighten him of my opinion on his level of intelligence when he cut me off.

"Don't you dare answer that," He sneered pointing his long, tan finger at me.

I put my hands up in a show that I wanted to keep the peace.

"Not knowing what tonto meant wouldn't make you stupid."

He rolled his eyes and went back to doing the problem. He didn't start writing or anything so I thought he didn't understand(the freaking fifth grade level question). I started reaching towards my pencil to try and explain it to him, but he brought his head up and said, "2.92," before I could grab it.

My eyebrows shot up. "Wow. Nice, you did that in your head?"

I mean, it's no magnificent feat, but at least I know he has a fifth grade education.

"Yeah, I'm good with numbers after I know what to do with them." He nodded. "Before that, it's a blank canvas," he gestured to his head.

I nodded in approval. "I can work with that. And, a blank canvas means new opportunity." I gave a cheeky smile.

He stared at me. "That is the most hippy dippy crap I have ever heard."

  "Oh, shut up," I waved him off.

  "Now, you make a question of your own." I told him, sliding another piece of paper and pencil towards him.

  He threw his head back. "Ugh, fine."

  He grabbed the pencil and wrote: Carmen loves pickles. She has 69 of them. What would she have if she ate 1 of them every day, for a month?

  He looked up with a devilish, suggestive smirk on his lips. I went slack jawed at his...his... him-ness! Then my facial features turned to an exaggerated look of disgust.