HTTYD: You Don't Know the Meaning of "Nice"? (Hiccstrid)

Chapter 28

Hiccup's P.O.V.

Yay! Astrid ordered something! Of course she barely got a bite in, she was so uncomfortable. I pulled into my driveway before yawning. "Welp, here we...are...," I trail off as I look at Astrid to see her asleep with her head leaning on the window. I smile softly as I gently move her so that she's up right. I then get out and go to her side before opening the door. She groans softly and her eyes open the slightest bit. "Sh, sh...you're alright, Astrid. Just go back to sleep," I whisper as I pick her up bridal-style.

"Mm, okay," she murmurs as her eyes close again and her head slumps to my shoulder. I carry her inside before my dad walks up to me from the living room.

"Hiccup! Where have you-," I cut him off with a loudish "sh!", pointing at Astrid, in my arms, with my eyes. He pushes his lips together as I go up stairs. 

I take her to her room and lay her as gently as I can on her bed before covering her with the blanket. On my way out, I see a glow, on the floor near the wall, out of the corner of my eye. I look to see it was her phone, under her desk... Huh? I walk over and crouch down before grabbing it. Seeing it full of messages, I put it in my back pocket before standing up and seeing her desk in chaos. Pencils, papers, and...jars were everywhere, even on the floor. Thinking back to the sounds I heard before we left, I wonder what made her throw her phone, and wreck her desk. I decide to talk to her later before slipping out of her room and silently closing the door, signalling my dad to be quiet when I see his waiting in the hall.

"So, did ya get lucky?" he asks when we get in the living room, bouncing his eyebrows.

"Dad!" I snap before he chuckles.

"You're blushing!" he laughs and I roll my eyes.

"I am not. The abused, self-conscious, eggshell-walking, scared, snappy ones aren't exactly my type," I tell him as I sit back and put my feet up on the coffee table. Dad hands me a root beer and I snap the top off before chugging.

"Are you sure about that?" he asks.

"Yup. You know why I'm doin' this stuff," I say after swallowing.

"I know why you're doing it, I just don't understand why," he says as I turn on the TV.

"Because Snotlout's a chump and he needs to learn who's master of the bad boys," I say with another gulp of soda, staring at the TV boredly. He turns the TV off before standing in front of me as I shout in protest, "Dad!"

"Don't 'Dad' me!" he orders before pointing at the stairs. "You cannot keep doing this to that girl. She's been through enough in her life without you and Snotlout using her to settle a bet," he was growling by the end. I can't help but roll my eyes.

"Dad, come on, it's not like she thinks I like her. She's incapable of believing anyone likes her," I say before realization shimmies across his face.

"Is that so?" he asks.

"Sh'ya," I say with a nod and he starts stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"When did you figure that out?" he questions.

"Yesterday, when Heather told us what Astrid said after she left the party," I tell him.

"Hiccup, I think you've grown feelings for her, you just don't want anyone to know. And that's why you changed your mind set," he says.

"Really? Well, what do you think of this?" I ask before throwing the remaining root beer in his face. He stands there with a blank look before answering.

"You venting your anger at not being able to show her that you want to give her more than an emerald bracelet," he says flatly. I roll my eyes before pushing off the couch.

"Whatever," I say and walk towards the door.

"Be back for school tomorrow!" he calls after me.

"What..ever," I repeat and slam the door closed. I get in my car and start driving.

Astrid's P.O.V.

I woke up in the room I was staying in at Hiccup's place. I look at my clock and see it was 5:30. I pull myself out of bed and get dressed in my running clothes as I listened to the soft patter of rain drops on my window. They were gradually growing louder as I looked for my phone. I look at my clock again and decide to forget the phone when I see it's 6:00. Grabbing my bag, already packed, I silently slip out of my room and sneak down the stairs. Once I reach the base of the stair well, I look around to make sure the coast is clear before running for the door and shooting outside. I pause on the porch to let the raindrops splatter on my face before skipping down the steps and jogging down the street. My bag bounced at my side and my hair was still in a pony tail from last night. Which brings up a question that's been on my mind: What kind of restaurant doesn't let costumers bring their leftovers home? My feet made rapid plashes in small puddles as I speed down the street. It amazed me how far from town Hiccup lived. After about ten minutes, I slow to a walk, shivers running through my entire body with no mercy. As the rain drops hit the top of my head, I couldn't shake the memory of the dream I had last night. The voices and images of Hiccup and his dad were so...vivid. As if I was actually hearing them. After 30 more minutes, I reach the outskirts of town and pick up the running again until I reach the school. I go inside before jogging to the locker room and throwing my bag onto one of the benches. I then go to the bathroom, connected to the locker room, and rip my shirt off. 

I hold it over the sink before ringing it out and having a stream of water fall into the hand washer. Once it won't let anything else out, I flick it over a stall door and let the warm water run. My hands were freezing and I couldn't wait to defrost them. As I hold them under the stream and feel the hot relief slowly spread up my wrists, I'm reminded once again of the dream I had last night. The water temperature reminded me of the fire I saw in Hiccup's eyes. Then my mind turned to his cousin, Tuffnut, Fishlegs, and any other guy in the school I could ask to pretend to be Derek. How was I supposed to find someone who was willing to possibly make out with a complete stranger? I only say that because I am a stranger to most guys here and my friends think I'm this sex-crazy, dirty girl who wouldn't care if she was on a stage as long as she could do something with the nearest guy. I had lowered my head to let the steam float around my face. Raising it to look in the mirror, I saw that my cheeks were stained with tears. I couldn't believe myself. I used to be this strong, independent young girl, who didn't care what people thought of her, or what they did to her. I used to be so sure of my path, my future, my goals. I used to be positive that I'd do whatever it took to take care of myself and keep out of everyone's way. And now, all I could do is put other people down, be a jerk, show no gratitude, disagree, and assume the worst.

"SHOOT A PICKLE!" I scream before punching the hand drier and shouting in pain as I feel a few bones in my hand crack.

A/N: I got the "Shoot a pickle" thing from my old LA teacher. She rocks, I think she is awesome, and I love teachers like her! I did not come up with it!