Shut Up Rodrick

2. Let It Out

CHAPTER TWO

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I keep a close watch on this heart of mine. - Johnny Cash

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This kid was crazy. . . utterly and completely crazy. This boy was so crazy I would actually lock him up in a metal cage if I was his parents.

The thing was that the stupid kid wouldn't stop bothering me that entire flight. He wouldn't stop fussing with my seat, tugging at my headphones the whole time, commenting on the movie he was busy watching on the screen in front of him like I knew exactly what he was talking about.

He was sitting next to me in this cramped space were the seats are barely enough space between people. I felt like the curly-headed boy next to me was practically hanging out in my lap, as happy as you please, almost purring away if he could.

"You see that girl? She has amazing boobs." He was yanking at my headphones again, making them slip for about the billionth time this entire trip. I glared up at him as he pointed with his right hand at the tiny screen at an extremely busty blonde walking around with a gun in her one hand. "I would totally tap that." This time he was pointing at her ass as the woman walked around in those pointy high-heeled boots. Man, her feet must be killing her.

"And this interests me in what way?" I asked him as I rubbed my eyes tiredly. I guess I must look like a panda because of me rubbing my eyeliner all out of the way. I probably had some of the black stuff all over my forehead as well.

The boy ignored me completely again as he shoved popcorn in his mouth faster that you can count to fifty. I wondered where he even GOT the popcorn, and why didn't I get any?

"Why isn't that guy dying already?" He whispered at me as he tugged at my green jacket. "I hope he dies, because he really is one big pain to look at. Yup, see what I said? He has absolutely zero muscle definition . . ."

"Can you just stop already!" I angrily huffed at the kid. Dang, it really was a pain not knowing the boy's name at all. "I don't want to talk to you! Leave me the chicken nuggets alone!"

He just looked at me from the top of his eyes, like he couldn't understand a word I had just said. His eyes were looking at me like I was actually, simply, completely crazy. "What?"

"SHUT UP!" My voice almost crossed the line between yelling and hissing like an angry cat that was ready to claw this kid's eyes out.

See - that crazy look again. His mouth looked like it didn't know what to do with itself as he stuffed more popcorn into it, and then he turned back to his movie. That movie I knew more about than practically any movie actually . . . I could write a book about it.

"Okay." He said.

I think I had about two to three seconds of actual peace.

"Come on, dude! Just die already! You see, this is why I hate Marvel movies. The bad guys almost never die."

I gave the kid a look. "What?" He just said as he lifted his eyebrows so high they disappeared under

his whole fringe of curly hair the colour that black would be if it died.

"I give up," I replied as I took my headphones off, letting Monster by Imagine Dragons still play as I looked up at him. "What do you want from me, huh kid?"

"I'm not a kid. I'm Rodrick." He said like it was something everyone was supposed to know, like I was such an unfortunate and underprivileged person that you could actually cry about it. I felt like punching the person, but was surprised at myself because this wasn't who I was.