Not all Blondes do Backflips

2 - Can't Buy Me Love

Dedicated to @KCollins_. Go read her book. You will not regret it. Brown Asians high five!

DISCLAIMER: I mean no offense to any vegetarians or vegans or vegetables who'll be reading - this'll make sense in a bit.

VOTE NOW or I'll sick Lennon on you. You don't want that, I promise you.

LISTEN to the Beatles song on the sidebar (Can't Buy Me Love). It kinda goes with the chapter. Disagree? You can yell at me in a comment. I can take it.

   

2 – Can't Buy Me Love

   

A kid with Ron Weasley hair and Harry Potter glasses gawked at me. The rail-thin pale-as-a-sheet girl seated next to him just frowned.

Polite, Lennon, I reminded myself. Be polite.

“Hi. I'd like to sign up, please.” Even I was impressed at how nice I sounded.

Still, they continued to stare at me.

This is a perfect example of when politeness isn't magic.

I sighed. “Yo, sign up sheet, where is it?” I asked, snapping my fingers in their faces.

“Uhmm … U-uh …” Ron-Harry stuttered. With ever shaky syllable, his face turned a deeper shade of pink.

“That's it, use your words,” I taunted mildly.

“Are you sure you want to –?” Ghost Girl asked.

“Yes, I'm sure,” I seethed, turning so that I was completely facing her. “Would I be asking for the sign up sheet if I wasn'tsure?”

Ron-Harry licked his lips nervously. He looked like he was about to have a coronary. “But we're MATHletes –”

Resisting the urge to wring his his neck, I pointed to the large MATHletes banner plastered behind them. “I'm a junior in high school. I think I can read a sign, thank you very fυcking much.”

Ghost Girl raised her eyebrows at me. “But you were just talking to Carly.”

Carly? Who the fυck was –?

Ghost Girl silently answered me by bιtchily pointing a finger to whatever was behind me.

I turned around.

Ah.

Carly the perky cheerleader who thought I was kind of pretty.

The same Carly who was staring at me like I'd escaped from a mental institution and was on some psychotic rampage. It was like insanity was the only explanation why anyone would choose math over pom poms.

Truth be told, I had nothing against cheerleaders. They could be as happy and cheerleader-y as they wanted to and I wouldn't give a dαmn. But immediately typecast me as one just because I had blonde hair and blue eyes? Well, that I had a problem with.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I turned around to once again face the math geniuses from hell. “The sign up sheet?” I asked again.

Both of them just continued to stare at me. I contemplated climbing over the table and giving them a piece of my mind or a right hook to the face, whichever was most convenient. But Paul and George were standing next to me before I could do either one.

“What's taking so long?” Paul asked as he wrapped an arm around me.

To anyone, it looked like Paul was hugging me and trying to make me feel better. But Paul was really holding me down. I wouldn't be surprised if 'bloody murder' was flashing in my eyes.