Georgian Redneck

Chapter 12- "Diana Haters Club"

I open my tired eyes and look around me worriedly. When I see nothing but smudged objects, I use my hands to brush off the sleep. Where am I again? I take in the leathery details and smell around me and slowly process that I'm still in my Impala, 'I Feel Like Dancing' by All Time Low quietly playing.

How long have I been asleep for? And why is there any All Time Low at all? I didn't know they even sell cassettes with modern music... Not that I'm complaining. I like this band. They've got this vibe that I like about them.

But what's the time? Has it been a few hours or a day? I'm so confused.

Shit. The memories flood back like a shock wave. The mud fight, the singing, the kiss... Oh fuck. Daryl probably thinks I'm a dumbass bitch. Which I am. I'm a narcissistic, egoistical, sadistic bitch. And a sarcastic one as well, while we're at the topic of self hate.

'Well done Diana, you screwed up big time'

I sit up hastily and turn the cassette player off, opening the cars door with a creak. Warm air rushes past my legs as I step out of my baby. What's the time? Surely I haven't been out of it for long. I'm not a nap kind of person. I need to find Daryl.

I glance down at my right hand only to find that the black watch isn't there. This day just gets better and better. I groan in frustration and bang my fist against the car. I'll regret it tomorrow. I shouldn't take my anger out on the poor car.

How can a day that's so good take such a quick turn for the worse?

"Hey Diana. You alright?" Dale calls from the top of the RV which I forgot is parked next to my Chevy. Well, he must have gotten a front view of what happened with me and Daryl. Shit. Dale's actually quite nice though. Probably one of the nicest and most reasonable people in this camp. He won't go running his mouth. But I know that he'll question me later on and try to find out all the details.

"Nah, I'm alright. Have you seen my watch anywhere? It's black with a little skull on it. I think I lost it" I glance up at him, frowning. It's not like me to loose things. Perfect example, my virginity. What? It's not like I care, really. But I did like the watch. It was given to me by my friend for my 19th birthday.

"You mean this one?" Dale smiles cheekily, holding my watch in the hand that isn't preoccupied with a shotgun. How did he... Did he steal it while I was sleeping? No. I'm a really light sleeper, and plus I don't think that he's the type to steal. Maybe he found it somewhere?

"I found it in the mud pit. The one where you and Daryl were in earlier." He says, chuckling and pointing to my long-sleeved Metallica shirt. What? It's still fabulous. Even mud covered, the greatness is still there. Dale does frown up on my bruised nose, though. Thank Daryl for that one. But just the thought of Daryl is painful to me at the moment.

"So? Fun is crucial for living. And speaking of Daryl, have you seen him anywhere? Also, my watch." I furrow my eyebrows, following by a grin. But the uneasy feeling in my stomach is still there.

Talking with Dixon isn't going be pretty. He probably hates my guts. He probably hates my existence. He's probably joined the 'Diana Hater Club' along with Shane and Andrea. Oh god I'm screwed. And I have to share a tent with him as well. He won't talk to me.

The old man throws down my watch and turns his back to me. "You didn't sleep long. Try his motorbike? Said he's going to change the oil on it." I nod even though he can't see me and strap the watch back onto my chubby wrist.

I could have guessed he'd either be with his motorbike or hunting food in the woods. It's just my bloody luck that he's here. If he was hunting, I would have had time to think my speech through. But now that I know he's here, there's no point in delaying this any longer.

I jog past the RV, farm house and bump right into something hard. This is happening far more often that I'd like. The jogging and the banging into things. Well, my bruised nose is going to have a new friend.

Also not helping the dark bruise that's already on my nose left behind by none other than Mr Dixon himself. "Whoa..." I stumble, but a firm and rough hand catches me before I fall. Quick reflexes. Daryl? Yeah. Even without seeing him since I'm covering my face with my hands, trying to stop the hurting, I know it's Daryl. A sense of De Javu washes over me.

"Watch where yer goin' woman" Daryl snaps. Yup, found him. And he seems to be back to his usual snappy self. This is going to be hard. I hope that God is paying attention and will be by my side. Not that I believe, but it could work.I have to at least try and explain myself.

I drop my hands to my side and walk to stand in front of the bike so he'll at least pay attention to my pointless talking and babbling. I need to fix this. I can't have him pissed at me and my whole existence.

"Daryl, I'm sorry for running away. My mind was all weird. I didn't want to, but I did. And I feel like a total asshole for that. I know that sorry doesn't really mean anything. But the kiss and mud fight.. It meant something to me. And I know I'm foolish for thinkig that it was something serious, but I really do." I trail off my pathetic little speech, looking down at my black, muddy boots. I should have said more.

But I guess that's all there is to say, really. There's a big chance he hates me even more now than he did before. I risk a glance up at Daryl's blue eyes, immediately regretting it. They're filled with... I can't describe the emotion.

But what he does next shocks me way too much.

He slowly bends down, capturing my lips and a chaste kiss. Fuck. But this time I don't run away. I welcome it.

(A/N) Here's the next chapter! A few Supernatural refferences here as well! Thank you so much for the views and lovely comments! Much appreciated:)Also thank you for voting for my story. Love you guys!