I'm The Geek Who Slapped A Football Player.

43 - T-Rex

1. Its Homecoming Week. I hate Homecoming week. Everybody's annoying and full of so much 'spirit' and there's all these damned dress up days that I have to try and keep up with and I actually dressed up for once (Monday I was a cat, Tuesday I had to wear a fucking green toga, yesterday I wore pajamas which wasn't so bad, and now, today, I ductaped one of my polos. Hoo-fucking-rah). 

2. Even though I'm not up for true Royalty (to get crowned and yada yada yada), I'm still fucking apart of the coronation.

3. (basically still hitched to issue number 2 up there, but still separate because it sucks on a different fucking level) I have to go TO THE DAMNED FUCKING DANCE. I'd rather do four bajillion Trig problems, or paint myself with barbecue sauce and jump into the lion enclosure at the zoo! 

4. Going to the dance requires wearing a dress...and like...looking nice...or something. Like I'm sure I've mentioned before, I haven't worn a fucking dress since I was literally like twelve-years-old. Twelve. TWELVE.

5. At the Coronation that I still have to be fucking apart of, I have to process through like ten thousand chairs, along side a living breathing personification of the phrase 'TALL DARK AND SMEXY', Abel Harkin, whom I can't decide whether I want to be friendly or not with. He generally seems nice to me and concerned whether or not his crazy-ass cousin will kill me...

6. Sebastian will be there.

Ugh Sebastian. 

Just the thought of him makes me want to break something into a thousand pieces. Like maybe his arm. Or skull. 

Last night, after the most cringe-worthy supper of my life (even thinking about that makes me want to just dig a grave and bury myself for fucking ever), trying to finish the fucking homework assignment was harder than trying to scale a vertical rock wall with mittens on!! After he decided to get all distracted by the fact that Abel had written a winking face behind my ear with a sharpie (Jeezus, just the thought of that makes me blush stupidly, why the fuck would he do that?? and it took FOREVER to get it off! I don't think its even all entirely off either, dammit), he complained about every other thing. Like, he'd do what he was supposed to, and seemed capable of managing most of what we were supposed to do, but he would. Not. Shut. Up. Constantly making some crude comment ("Should we write in a discount for milfs?") , or being rude ("Psycho, have I ever told you that you look like one of those Japanese ginkgo trees?") , or just being plain fucking annoying (*sings some Bruno Mars song under his breath*)!

I was more than half tempted to shove him out my bedroom window.

Eventually we got into an argument about something or other (he was damned determined to sell lingerie, little perverted bastard!), and I pissed him off. I don't exactly remember what I said, some kind of insult to his intelligence, and he got all stone-faced on me. The quiet was nice, but frankly unnerving too, because damn him he's kind of scary when he's ticked. He's some probably near-two hundred pound, six foot five linebacker for god's sakes!!

 He took to talking to Nibbles over me, muttering things along the lines of 'Ouch. If you're gonna bite anyone bite BitchFace over there.' or 'I don't know how you do it either buddy, I don't think I could live in the same house without drop-kicking her out the door.' 

After awhile though, I couldn't help but be impressed with him. He focused pretty well - despite his constant talking - and zoomed through most of the sheets and such. And he was so nice to Nibbles all the time. Even my family and I, who have had to deal with the little monster ten times longer, get irritated of him and will try to push him away or distract him with food. But Sebastian petted and entertained the little shit through every bitten finger or scratched eyebrow, always just lightly chastising him or even laughing.