Locked In At School With A Jerk [BOOK#01 THE JERK SERIES]

12: Break through the limits.

I don't even know whether I watched the whole movie or not because I find myself on the couch with Jared the next day.

I turn over and catch sight of him right beside me. Jared's eyes are closed. I absentmindedly run my hand over his face.

"Having fun?" He mutters and I flinch removing myself from the couch at once.

"S-sorry!" I stammer feeling most embarrassed. "I should do some homework today."

He suddenly grabs at my arm.

"I always knew you were a dork but I didn't know you were a nerd too."

"Hey, I'm not a nerd." I say indignantly. "I've to write out those poetry notes or Miss Winnie's gonna kill me."

"No thanks to you." I add.

"I'm not the one who was snoozing in class that day." He says.

"How'd you know?" I balk.

"I was watching you the whole time because I had nothing else to do." He says annoyingly.

I freak out. I must've been drooling all over my notebook.

"It was quite entertaining." He says with a wink. I elbow him.

"You're such a crappy idiot." I mutter.

"Well, you're a pretty idiot." He chuckles and I blush. Did Jared just call me pretty?

"I'm going to get my book." I hurriedly say and walk out of there before I say something stupid.

Out of the corner of my eyes I spot Jared smiling after me and shaking his head.

***

I read Robert Frost's poem for the first time.

"Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice."

Huh, it's so deep. And I don't get a word of it.

"Need help?" Jared walks in on me startling me out of my wits.

"I'm fine, you can go back to watching T.V." I say. I can't deal with him right now. I wave him off but instead of walking out of the classroom I'm sitting in, he takes a seat and starts peeking at my work.

"What are you writing?" He asks. Isn't it obvious? I'm writing the explanation of a poem.

"Go away, Jared. You're distracting me." I say pushing his face away. Jared doesn't budge.

He picks up the page on which the poem is written and whistles. "That is some poem."

"Wait, you know what it means?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

Jared didn't strike to me as the kind of person who'd read books much less poetry. I'd pegged him down as a nut.

"Don't look so surprised, Blondie. I'm not as ignorant as you think." He says shortly.

"Sorry," I hang my head.

"And yes, I know what this poem means." He says. "But I guess I'll just go back and watch basketball like you said. See ya, Karen. Good luck with the poem though."