That I Would Be Good

Chapter Eight

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”  ― Maya Angelou

     Stomping into school my sunglasses on, I barged past everyone.  Unfortunately for me, I showed up between third and fourth hour and my migraine was only getting worse after the news about my brother coming home.  Naturally my bad mood because worse as well.  People gave me stares of confusion and anger when I’d shove past them.  I was just daring them to tell me something, but they knew better. When Elodey Sawyer is in a bad mood you do not get in her way or start a fight.  You will lose and you will look like an idiot at the end of the day.

     The bell rang announcing time to get to your classes, unlike everyone else, I kept stomping through the halls until I was at the vending machines.  Digging through my coat pocket I whipped out a few singles and shoved them into the machine, and pounded on the buttons. Waiting impatiently for the food to hit the bottom, I tapped my foot and crossed my arms.  Could it go any slower? And wouldn’t you know it everything seemed to be against me today.  The machine froze right before my bag of chips was going to fall out to the dispenser.

    Angry, I smacked the machine with all the strength I could muster, but it did nothing. The chips hung stubbornly onto the little bit of coil.  Smacking and kicking the machine a few more times I finally decided to give up and move onto getting something to drink.  Maybe that would work out better.

     “You know taking your hangover out on a vending machine isn’t going to fix anything,” Ziggy said coming up next to me.  I looked at him over my sunglasses and scowled.  The last person I wanted to see just then had shown up.  Dick would have been better than Ziggy.  The prude was going to lecture me on my choices last night again.

     “My chips are stuck,” I grumbled at him, hitting the button to get a Pepsi out of the machine. I bent down and grabbed it when it was dispensed.

     He looked at me with a raised eyebrow then walked to the vending machine, leaning his hands on either side of it, then with a grunt he pushed it forward so it was off its front legs then let it down with a thunk.  The chips fell to the bottom and I grabbed them swiftly from the machine, and ripped them open stuffing a handful into my mouth.

     Munching loudly and taking a sip of soda to wash it down, I walked away from Ziggy hoping he’d take a hint to leave me alone.  He didn’t take the hint or he didn’t care, either way I was annoyed when I heard him following me.  He whistled in my ear making my head throb and I whipped around and swung a fist at him.

    He easily caught my fist, and held it there staring at me defiantly.  “Someone’s in a bad mood today,” he goaded.  I tried pulling my fist back, but he only held on tighter, an amused look on his face. “Come on, why the bad mood?” he pulled my sunglasses off with his free hand and I glared at him

     What the hell was his problem? Didn’t he know better than to mess with me?  I could easily whoop his ass.  Maybe not in a fist fight, but I could do something to seriously piss him off and/or make his life miserable.

     Giving one final tug, he finally let go of my fist, but it ended up hitting me in the face because I wasn’t expecting him to let go.  Cursing under my breath I stalked off at a faster pace, hoping he’d leave me alone.

      “I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me why you’re in such a bad mood,” he called after me, following at a slow pace.

     I ignored him like I had been since he started talking to me.  He obviously was trying to get under my skin and I was not going to let him get the satisfaction of doing so.