The Tale Of A High-school Badass

Chapter 4 - Hide and seek and STD testing

The street is canopied by fragrant lemon and orange trees. Instead of taking the bus today, I opted to cycle down to school. The wind is arid, it sweeps my hair back in flailing, jerky bouts. Blood pounds in my legs with the beats of 'Bad at Love.' I take a quick glance at the screen of my phone as it let's out an agony filled ping. Yet another message from Landon. That explains the agony of the ping.

'I can see you,' reads the message.

I do a double take, whipping my head back and forth as the macabre of the message hits me. The entire process risks the loss of limbs, just in case Apricot the friendly neighbourhood cat decides to leap in front of my bike. Again.

'I still see you, nice top,it really brings out your 'personality',' says another messag. I can almost see him smirking at his statement in my mind's eye.

I roll my eyes, and subconsciously speed up.

'Speeding up won't blind me. I can still see you!' Landon types.

I continue riding my bicycle, slowing down ever so slightly. The rich purr of a car sounds in the background. A bolt of realization strikes me, it has to be his car. I pull the brakes on my bike, with an abrupt jerk.

'Stop playing hide and seek like a whiny four year old. You can see me? Well that's going to be the best thing you lay eyes on all day. Ravish the sight. But remember, you are 'it', and I'm going to do everything to keep myself from getting caught ;) ,' I type in, watching his profile picture pop up at the bottom of the screen.

'The game's just begun. Eventually 'it' wins, and I'm not one to take loss too well,' he responds, almost instantaneously.

'Buy a box of kleenex, a tin of chocolates and a copy of The Notebook. This isn't going to be a good day for you if you don't take loss well,' I reply with a light chuckle,his icon blinkers out. An engine revs and purs hungrily underneath the foliage of the fragrant lime.

A mischievous smile colours my face, and I take off, free as the colours of the wind.

×××

'Mila,' Christian hollers as he beckons me toward his locker.

'What do you want!?Stop screaming!' I scream back. Ah, the irony, I relish the irony.

'Mila, the decibel levels you use are unheard of-'

'Well, now we know you haven't been paying attention to the 'Sound and waves' chapter in Physics,' I pertly interrupt.

'Forget it. We have more important matters to discuss at this time,' Christian says.

'Don't tell me that you wrote 'ass' instead of 'as' in your Biology essay, every time,' I say in amusement.

'Shut up. Did you see the posters?' He asks.

'The ones about the STD testings? Yes, I did. Oh my god do you have an STD. Who gave it to you,Samantha? Don't touch me,' I say swatting his arm.

He thrusts a poster in my face. It's slight my crumpled with splotches of peanut butter on a picture. Wait, whose picture is that? It's mine. My picture. Huh, I don't remember putting any posters up that feature me. Bright neon texts lies above the picture 'Lost!'

'I seem to have lost one Mila Carson after a game of hide and seek. If found, please report in the Cafeteria during lunch hours. The finder will be rewarded with a 100 dollars. Old Ben Franklin is waiting for you!' I read out. 

You know how in Looney Tunes they portray angry characters with smoke fuming from their ears. Even as a child, I used to get wild when Bugs Bunny had grey smoke pouring out of their ears. Did they put candles in their ears, or smoke machines or smoke bombs? This moment was a moment of revelation. You can actually have smoke pouring out of your ears. I can feel the smoke pooling in my ears. 

'Where is he?!' I scream, feral and enraged. 

Christian places his palms firmly on my arm, tugging backwards and lightly twisting my wrist.

'I will kick you in the groin, so help me God,' I saw, eerily softly. 

If I wasn't fuming, I would have straight-out laughed at Christian's fearful-astonished face. His hand releases my arms, and he motions down the hallway.

'That way,' he says, and sticks his head into the locker to pull out a towering pile of economics books. 

As I walk, no charge through the hallway, I am met with surprised looks, gaping faces, glares and hushed judgement. A whistle sounds from the tail-end of the corridor. I spin around on my ankle, and there he stands. 

Smug, smirking and straight out of an advert for Ed Hardy, Landon Moore. 

'You,' I say like a character from one of those thriller movies. 

'Hello,' Landon says with a delicate flick of his eyebrows. 

I walk towards, viciously impelling the crumpled poster in his. 

'What is this?' I say threateningly softly. 

'It's a lost person poster for one Mila Carson,' he says booping my nose. 

'Why is there a lost person poster when I am standing right in front of you?!' I holler. 

'You see, there is this human concept referred to as movement. You weren't standing in front of me  3 hours ago, I got a little worried and I put up that poster,' Landon condescendingly replies.

He raises his leather covered arm and touches my shoulder lightly. I stare at him inquisitively, studying his roguish umber eyes. 

'I caught you. Seems like you're going to need the Kleenex and the copy of 'The Notebook,' he responds with an insolent snigger. 

I growl, raising my palms to my hair and running my fingers through the tresses. 

'You are such a little bitch,' I say to him with a partial roar. 

Landon merely shoots me a sick grin, wide-toothed and positively complacent. Oh, Oh he is wicked. In response, I school my face into a blank stare. Turning on my ankle, ensuring that my windswept hair strikes his symmetrical face. 

'Hey!' Landon screams from behind me.

My arm shoots up, and up comes a finger with a perfectly painted red-fingernail. The finger represents, debatably, one of the dirtiest words in the English Language. 

The plethora of people, with their backs lined against the lockers send up whoops and the classic 'Ohhhh.'  That's when I know, he may have won the ridiculous game of hide and seek, but I won our little 'stand-off.' Seems like I won't need to spend my money on the Kleenex and 'The Notebook.' The tin of chocolates, however, are a survival necessity. I beam with pleasure, and I remain that way for the rest of the day. 

Landon's scream echoes through the corridor, 'You forgot your 100 dollars!'

xxx

Hello! Hopefully, everybody who has been following the book has been enjoying it. Anyway, I am just happy I crossed 50 reads. Another chapter should be up by today/tomorrow morning. Have fun y'all!