I'm The Geek Who Slapped A Football Player.

4 - I Don't Throw

Chapter 4: I Don’t Throw

Fuming, I walk out of the school. I stomped my way through a throng of people who began yelling at me, and I promptly flipped them off. Someone shouted ‘Bitch!’ and I turned around. The guy who’d said it gasped and the other people started whispering.

                          “Oh shit, that's the chick who slapped Sebastian McCrane…”

Irritated because they already knew who I was, but glad for the fear it struck in their eyes, I used it to my advantage. “That’s right!” I barked, and the whole crew flinched. “Now shut yer little mouth before I shove your foot up your own ass!”

                          They all stared at me, stunned. I turned and marched away.

My fuming was because of Sebastian, the guy’d I’d already slapped twice today, though I was so mad I wanted to do it a third time. Maybe a fourth.

He’d seen my bra! And had even bragged at me about it! Seriously? Hell, I rather him know it himself than tell me! Okay, maybe not…

                        After Economics class I’d rushed to the nearest bathroom, and yes, my red bra was somewhat visible through my pale yellow polo because of the wetness of my hair. This had been a result of his doing. I’d had to take a quick shower to remove all the damn pudding from hair! Sure, I’d started it, but good cripes he hadn’t needed to retaliate! Jeez!

I kept walking through the parking lot, grumbling to myself.

Sure, it was only the back of my bra, but I’m very serious and sensitive when it comes to that kind of stuff. It’s my business, no one else’s! Ugh! It pissed me off! Still grumbling, I fished the keys to my van from my bag.

                        Yes, I said van. No, I’m not proud of it.

                        My van is an old thing circa somewhere in the nineties, pale red in color. A cracked windshield, a mismatched left mirror, a putzing personality… It’s ugly as hell, and I hate it, but my mom said it was either this, ride the bus, or ride my bike. Sooo, I chose the van. No, I haven’t named it, but if I did, it’d probably be something like Ulga, or Dorcas, or something equally ugly and old-biddy-ish.

I started fiddling with the key, when a whoosh of air and a loud thump right beside my ear made me scream like a little girl and drop my keys.

                       I whirl around, heart in my throat, and angrier than a fucking mama grizzly separated from her cub. I looked down at my feet and see a football wobbling on the asphalt. Who in the fuck just threw a football at me?!

My head whips up when I hear the laughter, and it flares my fury higher because I recognize the mocking sound. Sebastian Mc-fucking-Crane. Who else? I think sourly. “What the hell is your problem?!” I shout out to him, since he’s like a bajillion feet away. How in the hell did he throw it that far?

He just grins and shrugs. “Nothin’! I just thought you’d want to play some football.”

                       “You threw it at my head!” I accused.

                       He laughed again. “I said ‘heads up’.”

Yeah right, I glower at him. He probably just happened to be walking to his vehicle and saw me. Thought it'd be funny to whack the Psycho Geek in the head with a football.  “Sure. Whatever.” I turned away to look for my keys.