Teenage Dirtbag
Part 2
by Granate
"You're late, Yuy," I hear the proctor say irritably. "Want another
detention?"
Heero doesn't answer, just looks bored.
The proctor shakes his head, "Next time, Yuy... For now, just go sit down.
There's an open seat at Maxwell's table."
What?! Oh great! The last thing I want is to sit near that guy for the next
three hours. I feel like maybe the words, "Your girlfriend gives me mental love
every morning in the shower," might be written across my forehead. It couldn't
have been worse if it were, "I'd really enjoy a good ass whoopin', thanks a
bunch!" instead.
I concentrate solely on my homework and pretend I don't notice as he sits
down diagonally from me. Of course he doesn't say anything. But in the next ten
minutes, the weirdest feeling comes over me. It feels like I'm being watched.
What the hell? Heero Yuy is staring at me. I swear to myself and keep working on
my calculus. It doesn't stop, it gets worse. Out of the corner of my eye, I see
him lean on the table and peer closer. I would like to tell him to cut it the
hell out, but I don't want to piss him off, so I just try to ignore it. It's
like not looking a Silverback in the eye for fear it'll rush at you with those
canines and tear your throat out.
Finally, I can't take it anymore. I glance up at him briefly with a very
irritated expression and then go back to my work. I know that doesn't seem very
gutsy, but trust me, that look was very irritated. When I looked at him, he
wasn't glaring at me really. He was peering at me with curiosity, sort of like I
had the answer to some question he hadn't thought of yet. His eyes were
narrowed, but his pupils were all dialated and his whites bloodshot. Definitely
high. Yes, I'm sure a funny-looking geek doing his AP calculus homework is much
more interesting when one is high. I wish I were high too, at least detention
wouldn't be so boring.
I successfully ignore him until he fluidly shifts and sinks into the seat
across from me. This makes me really uncomfortable because he is really looking
closely at me now. My foot is twitching a mile a minute under the table. I am
always wiggling in some way or another, in perpetual motion, especially when I'm
nervous. Probably why I'm so damned skinny. I realize I'm fidgeting with the end
of my braid and toss it over my shoulder.
"You look like a girl with that hair."
I just stare back, too stunned to speak. The guy hasn't spoken a word to me
in three years and probably wasn't even aware of my existence until thirteen
minutes ago and that's what comes out of his mouth? I try to prepare one of my
usual clever retorts, but I don't have a chance to get it out.
"Hnn...wait... I know you..." he says as if he were still trying to figure me out.
His voice is deep and smooth. I look at him with an even more puzzled
expression. I'm never caught speechless like this, it's just not possible for
me. Or so I thought. I am mostly stunned that he's actually talking. To ME. I
look over at the proctor quickly. We aren't supposed to talk in detention. But
he doesn't seem to notice us talking.
"Yes, I'm sure..." Heero continues absent-mindedly as his ice blue eyes get a
better look at my face.
"Um, we've gone to school together for four years," I remind him. Everybody
knows who everybody else is after four years, even a school as big as ours.
"No, don't tell me now..." he waves my suggestion off.
"Um, we live in the same neighborhood?" I venture.
"No, no that's not it..." he says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. I am truly
amazed. This seems like a lot of talking for him.
"You drive over my lawn every weekend?" I quip, feeling snarky. He actually
does, too. Every Saturday or Sunday morning, we find big tire tracks over our
grass. We live on a corner. I know it's him too, I've seen him take the corner
too fast.
"No, no... " he dismisses me again. A dim light bulb suddenly goes on somewhere
in his empty, cobb-webby, Neanderthal head.
"You have a crush on my girlfriend!" he finally comes up with, a hand
slamming down on the table in triumph.
"Wha- What?!" I stammer as I feel my face start to get hot with embarrassment
and my eyes bug out. "Who told you that?" I demand, trying to keep my tightening
voice under control. The way I'm blushing, there's no use trying to deny it,
even to save my own life.
"She did," he says lazily. "She said she worked with you on a project or
something and you acted like some kind of love-sick puppy or something."
My eyes flash with rage. She wouldn't have said that! No one calls me a
puppy!
"And I've seen you staring at her," he continues, pushing back in his chair.
"It's pretty obvious."
"C-come on now!" I stutter. "That isn't fair! Putting me on the spot! Who
doesn't have crush on Relena?!"
He stretches his arms behind his head in satisfaction. "I suppose you're
right," he agrees in a cocky tone. He just sits there, with his arms behind his
head, displaying his chest and shoulders, and sneering at me.
"Are you going to kick my ass?" I ask in a strangled voice.
He looks thoughtful. "No," he decides benevolently.
"Really? Why not?" I ask, too shocked to stop myself from wondering out loud.
"'Cuz I'm just blitzed right now..." he answers, as if I couldn't tell, "and I
don't really feel like it. Remind me later though."
"Yeah, sure thing," I snap back sarcastically. Bored of this persecution, I
go back to my homework. But this odd exchange isn't over yet.
"That's wrong," he says after a few minutes of watching me work.
"What?" I ask tersely, not liking to be corrected by remedial-math bozos.
He brings all four legs of his chair back down and points to the problem I am
working on. "Right there," he tells me. "You calculated the wrong decimal. Hn,
you must have messed up in your derivation somewhere..." He scans the paper upside
down. "There," he points to an expression a few lines up, and then leans back in
his chair to smugly watch me look it over.
It takes me a whole minute to figure it out, but he's right! Heero Yuy
just corrected my calculus homework!! I can't fucking believe it. What can I say
to that?
"Is there anything else wrong?" I ask when I finish correcting it. I push the
paper over to him. He turns it around and pages through it, just scanning it. He
finishes but doesn't give it back. I give him an impatient look, but he just
looks at me thoughtfully again.
"Can I have my homework back now?" I ask irritatedly.
"God, you're a dork," he shakes his head. "No, tell me something first."
"What?" I snap, really losing my patience.
"Why?" he asks, still holding my homework hostage.
"Why what?" I ask, unable to follow his train of thought.
"Why do you like Relena so much?" he presses. It sounds like he really wants
to know.
"That's personal," I retort, putting my nose in the air.
"Then you're not getting this back," he says definitively.
"Come on! You're her boyfriend, you can probably think of more reasons to
like her than I can!" I stammer, blushing again.
"Maybe, but I want to know why you like her," he answers.
How humiliating. "Come on," I appeal. "It's not like you really care. This is
stupid!"
He cocks a threatening eyebrow at me, and holds my homework as if he were
going to tear it half.
"Don't!" I gasp, grabbing for my packet. He effortlessly holds it out of my
reach. I sit back in my chair and cross my arms in a huff. I glance over to see
if the proctors are catching any of this and of course the aren't. Heero is
still looking at me expectantly.
"You are a sick person," I tell him flatly. He just raises his thick brows
briefly and waits for me to continue. I take a deep breath. "Well, she's pretty...
and nice... and smart..."
He interrupts me with a snicker. "Those are all such shallow adjectives," he
frowns. "Can't you come up with anything better?"
"Hey," I defend myself. "This isn't one of those things where you try to get
me to write a damn love letter to your girlfriend or something is it? 'Cause I'm
not playing this little game!"
He gives me an incredulous look. "Why would I want you to do that?" he asks.
I roll my eyes.
"Well?" he hasn't forgotten his original question. I don't say anything. He
rips the staple out of my packet and starts doing some sort of origami with the
pages.
"Stop!" I cry. "Alright, alright!" Things just come pouring out of my mouth
as I watch him mutilate my work, "She's sweet and perfect... I love her long hair
and her pouty lips... Even her eyebrows are perfect! She has terrific legs,
especially in that short green skirt she wore last week - " Please know that at
this point I'm not thinking about what he might do to me for saying any of this,
I'm just trying to save my calculus homework, "- She's competent and ambitious,
and she makes good speeches when she runs for student government... and for
Christ's sake, she's a gymnast..." I trail off, finally slowing down because he's
ceased his assault on my packet. "And I guess its sort of one of those
Unattainable Things, you know? I know I'll never have her, so I don't have to
worry about actually trying to make her like me or dating her or anything. It's
safer somehow, I guess." I finally halt, shocked that I admitted so much to her
boyfriend.
He looks at me thoughtfully, obviously surprised that I have my crush so well
self-analyzed. He cocks his head and says, "That's interesting."
I roll my eyes and cross my arms again. I am still majorly pissed, not to
mention embarrassed as hell, that he made me admit to all that. "Is this what
you do for fun?" I ask cynically. "Intimidate people?"
He smirks at me. "This was fun. I'll have to do it again sometime."
"You're an asshole," I say matter-of-factly. He seems to have no arguments
with that. "Can I have my homework back now, or what's left of it?" I ask
crossly.
"Uh-huh," he says, pushing the pages across the table. He does it too hard
and they scatter all over the floor next to me. "And there's another mistake in
problem 4."
I growl to myself and bend down to pick them up. Sensible pumps and serious
slacks enter my view. Uh-oh, the other proctor.
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