A Girl Named Sweetie

2. The Anger

Jake's POV

"Dude. She doesn't even sound that bad," Doug states matter-of-factly, rolling his eyes.

"She's the fucking worst. She was running down the hallway, practically giggling, and crashed right into me. As if that wasn't bad enough, she asked me if I wanted ice cream or some shit."

"Whatever, man. She sounds like an angel."

I've known Doug for seven years, since we were both ten, and I can't figure out why I still talk to that idiot.

I shake my head, bouncing my leg up and down as I do. We're sitting on some uncomfortable bench by the train tracks - usually we just hang out at his house, but it's under renovation, so no one's allowed there but his family. His mom's got a huge stick up her ass, and doesn't want anyone seeing it in its "improper state." Her words, not mine.

"Woah, check her out," Doug nudges my arm with his elbow, pointing off in the distance.

Sure enough, Little Miss Sunshine is walking - rather, skipping, for some godforsaken reason - down the street, a book clung to her chest and a hint of a smile on her face.

Soon, she spots me, and a Cheshire grin lights up her face as she bounds down the sidewalk towards Doug and I.

"Hi there! You're the boy who I bumped into, right? I never got to give you a proper apology!" she exclaims, waving over-enthusiastically with one hand.

Doug looks at me, as if to say, that's the girl? I nod solemnly, not answering her.

"Hey girlie, what's your name?" Doug says, taking over for me when he realizes I won't say anything.

"I'm Sweetie!" she replies instantly, reaching out to shake his hand as if he's the most exciting person she's ever met.

I raise an eyebrow, skeptical.

"Sweetie? That's your given name?" I ask, narrowing my eyes - she turns to look at me, her eyes wide and curious. Christ, kill me now.

"Yep! Sweetie May. And what's your name?" she replies, the stupid smile on her face widening.

I just turn my head, pressing my lips together. That is, without even a hint of a doubt, the worst name I've ever heard. That's a dumb pet name, let alone actual name for an actual human being. I bet her parents just think she's the best thing in the world, naming her something like Sweetie. Even her last name is terrible. God, I hate this girl already.

Doug introduces both him and I, and he and Sweetie continue talking, her giggling the whole time. That damn giggle. Normally I'd think she's just some flirting slut, but the way she's acted in the past five minutes, I think she's actually just amused by every fucking thing that happens near and around her.

"Bye, Doug! Bye Jake!" she exclaims eventually, taking off right on down the path, wrapping her previously free arm around her book.

What an actual idiot.

"So that's the monster you've been ranting about," Doug chuckles, shaking his head at me.

"Come on. She's just so... fuck, I don't even know the word. She's just so stupid, like a child or a dog. She's the type of person to look upwards when you tell her that 'gullible' is written on the ceiling."

"I dunno, man, she seemed to really like that book of hers. All books, really. It's possible that she's just a nice fucking person, unlike you," he says, poking a finger at my chest.

I don't even satisfy him with a response.

•••

"Jacob Harrison. What landed you in my office today?" sighs Principal Jones with a look of annoyance that etches wrinkles into his leathery skin.

"Mrs. Beezley took out a cupcake while she was talking about trigonometric ratios or some bullshit—"

"You were in English class, not math. And watch your language, please."

"Sorry, I meant cowshit. Anyway, she took out a cupcake while teaching and I simply reminded her that if she wants to lose that stomach fat of hers, she may want to watch what she eats, so she sent me down here," I smirk, leaning back in my seat. Jones is no match for me.

The principal takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger to alleviate the headache I've no doubt given him.

"Well, Mrs. Beezley won't have you in her class anymore. You've created too much of a distraction, and she claims that it 'impairs her ability to teach effectively.' You're being switched into Ms. Smith's English class. If I see you down here one more time, I'll have no choice but to suspend you again. Do not screw this up, Jacob. My patience is running out."

He knows he can't scare me, but I know that I shouldn't push him any further. The art of pissing people off cannot be taken lightly - when they're reaching their breaking point, you let up, only to start again later. It's a beautiful system, really. Either way, I'm happy to be in someone else's class. Smith won't have any idea what hit her.

Eventually, after sending an email to Ms. Smith explaining the situation, he dismisses me to find my new classroom, or as he chose to put it, my "fresh start."

I pick up my tattered backpack and start on my way. My sneakers squeak on the disgusting floors as I wind my way through the building, heading for room B204. Soon, I arrive at the classroom, and reach my hand towards the cool metal doorknob in front of me - I turn it and push the door open, revealing fifteen or so faces staring at me.

That's when I see her. Sitting at the front, she has a teal pen poised in her right hand, halfway in the middle of writing something in the small notebook in front of her. As soon as she sets her eyes on me, she smiles, bouncing a bit in her seat.

Fucking fantastic.

"You must be Jake. Have a seat and take out a pen, please," says the teacher, looking at me over her wire framed glasses with a nasty look on her face. She must have heard about my - what did Beezley call it? - unpleasant personality from her little teacher friends. I don't know whether to be offended or honored. I take that back; I'm definitely honored.

I amble towards an empty desk in the back, purposefully ignoring Sweetie's oppressive stare.

"Okay, we're going to be starting our project on Of Mice and Men now that we've finished up the book."

As if I read it. 

"You may pick your own partners so long as you're sure you can work efficiently together," the teacher finishes, stalking back to her desks as her high heels clack on the floor.

I could pair up with Bree, she was my fuck buddy for six months sophomore year. Then again, I think Vanessa's in this class, and she's got giant—

"Jake, since you weren't here for much of the actual lesson, I've decided to pair you and Sweetie. She's an excellent student, and will get you up to speed."

Of fucking course. Of course I get paired with that bitch, the one girl whose hotness doesn't make up for a terrible personality.

I look up, and she's walking towards me with the same stupid grin on her face, taking peppy steps towards my desk.

If the universe wants to do this to me, fine. I'll get my way - I'm Jake Harrison for Chrissakes. Bring it on, Sweetie. Bring it on.