From Very Real Pranks to Something Like Love

Shall We Rent a Janitor's Closet?

        I stormed through the crowded hallways like an angry mother bear looking for her prey...in my case, Ian Taylor. You may have noticed that I always say Ian Taylor, never leaving out his last name. I feel that it's necessary to distinguish between Ian Taylor, and every other Ian in the world. You see, I'm not a cold hearted person, I love the name Ian. That said, the name Ian Taylor makes me gag.

          Anyways, back to my angry masquerade down the hallway. I scanned the curious, occasional laughing, faces in search of him. Oh, and also, sometimes I feel too disgusted to say his name, so if you hear me say it or him, you know who I'm talking about.

          Finally, my gaze landed on him in all his glory. His brown hair messy and unruly, his deep blue eyes watching me intently. If I didn't hate him so much, I might even be able to say he's attractive, but since I do hate him, I can't say that.

          His lips quirked into a half smile, making my frown deepen.

          "Hey Pennywise, don't look so upset," he said, stepping away from his gang of friends. I shoved him with enough force to make a normal person fall into their friends and create a hilarious domino effect, but upsettingly, he, once again, only stumbled. Damn his six-pack.

          "Something wrong?" He chuckled. I inched closer to him, my angry scowl still in place. His friends watched with different expressions, most of the guys were impressed, (with what I'm not quite sure) while the girls looked on with pure envy.

          "We need to talk, alone...right now," I growled in his ear. His smirk grew but he followed me. His guy friends began whistling, his girl friend's; whom he was probably sleeping with every single one, complained and whined. My god, did they really think I was going to make out with him or something? I mean seriously, I respect myself enough to not make out with something as gross as him.

          "So Pennywise, shall we find a janitors closet?" he asked as we rounded a corner. I screeched in frustration and rounded on him.

          "Do you seriously think I'm attracted to you?! You disgust me Ian Taylor," I snarled in his face. He looked bewildered for a moment, but it quickly vanished from his face and was replaced by his signature smirk.

          "Why do you hate me so much Pennywise?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

          "For one thing, you keep calling me that. Do you even know what it is?" I demanded. I bet he had no idea that it was a tin whistle, why else would he have such a stupid nickname for me other than thinking it sounds funny? Of course, I wasn't going to tell him that...all the more reason for him to continue using it.

          "Of course I do. I'm not a dumb jock you know, I love Stephen King, he's an amazing author," Ian said with a cocky smirk. My jaw dropped and I gaped at him. "Stereotypical much Penny?" he asked. I placed my hands on my hips and looked up at him.

          "I'm not stereotypical. Dumb jock is just the aura you give off," I said, defending myself. I really wasn't stereotypical...only to him and his annoying friends. I know, I'm a horrible person...but at least I don't bully them-only Ian feels my wrath.

          "Alright listen, I actually need to talk to you," I said, changing the subject. He raised his perfectly groomed eyebrows at me and waited.

          "You planned that whole fire drill thing," I said, not bothering to make it a question, we both knew I was right so what was the point of beating around the bush?

          "Yeah, and your point is?" He asked impatiently.

          "Why are you targeting me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. He smiled brightly, it wasn't even a scowl.