What Hurts the Most

Aaron?

Kimberly's P.O.V

I've never been so happy to hear the afternoon bell in my life. After waking up extremely early everyday, just to have an argument with Helena on what to wear from that dreaded closet, I was relieved to finally have the weekend to myself. No disturbances just my usual wake up, eat, read, sleep and repeat.

I quickly glimpse my watch and it says it's 3:19 which means I've been sitting here too long already. As I make my way out of the class, Mr.Thompson beckons me to his desk. Although I really don't want to be there I put on a smile and make my way to his desk. He's just sitting there with his glasses placed on his head like a visor. He's wearing a blue button down shirt and it looks a little tight if you ask me.

"Yes, Mr. Thompson." I say politely. Just by the way he is smiling I know something is up. I mean this can't be about my project with Aaron. Our project has been going great. It's almost complete, just a few finishing touches; fix Aaron's grammatical errors, add a couple pictures and complete the works cited page and we'll have an A+ paper.

"How's my favourite student?" Oh great what does he want? His grey eyes are gleaming with excitement and I'm just waiting for the bomb, that is his words to explode.

"I'm fine Mr. Thompson. I'm really in a rush, so how may I help you?" For a while I have to check my tone because I can tell there is a hint of attitude in my voice, but thankfully Mr. Thompson is oblivious to my mild irritation.

" As you know, I work at the hospital on weekends and this weekend there is a charity event at the in the pediatric ward. It's a ball for the cancer patients and I was wondering if you would like to volunteer. Surprisingly there are a lot of teenagers in the hospital. We just want to give them a special night and I'm in need of some people to come and show the kids a good time." He says with hopeful eyes. A good time? Me? A good time? I know nothing about a good time. I don't get invited to parties. He knows I'm not popular, I guess that's why he chose me to volunteer. I would volunteer anyway, I love kids and it'll be nice to have a conversation with some teenagers who won't judge me. There is some hesitation, in my voice, but I do have a heart and I can't say no to the oppurtunity.

"Okay sure, no problem. I'll be there. What time does it start?" I question.

"It starts at 7:30 p.m, but I would suggest you come at 7, so you can get to know some of the guys before you dance with them" he says with a smug smile.

"Dance?" I choke.

" Yeah, it's a ball, don't look so frightened, you're a great dancer, or at least from what I remember" Mr. Thompson says with a knowing smile. Of course he remembers. I used to dance back in the day. By back in the day I mean junior high. I was pretty good, or so I was told. Mrs. Thompson, Mr. Thompson's wife, was my dance teacher. Trying to avoid a trip down memory lane, I try my best to get out of there.

" Alright, see you tomorrow by the hospital at 7" I say. I begin walking out of the classroom as swiftly as possible. I'm trying to prevent any more surprises from interrupting my weekend. I make it out of his classroom and start walking down the now empty hallway. The sound of my boots clicking against the ceramic flooring is the only sound that fills the air. That is until I hear Mr. Thompson call my name.

" Oh and Kimberly don't forget to wear a dress" he doesn't even wait to hear me respond, he just snakes his way back into his classroom. I hate dresses. Wearing a skirt is one thing, but a dress is different. I mean maybe it isn't but to me, it's a completely different thing. I try not to think about the torture Helena is going to put me through this weekend, and just try to enjoy a peaceful car ride home.

As I enter my house I see Jeremy sitting in the living room. He doesn't see or hear me enter, because he's consumed by a video game and I can't help but try to scare him. I tip toe over to him and cover his eyes. He jumps out of his skin. I try hard not to laugh at him or else I'll blow my cover. "Well Kimberly, you smell really nice today." He chuckles lighty. How the heck did he know? He must be bluffing so I put on a fake, but thick Spanish accent.