Surrendering
Chapter
12: The Best Little Girl in the World
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
January 25th
Have you ever woken up with the worst headache ever? I mean, without the alcohol to blame...
This morning when I opened my eyes, my entire room was spinning, and not in that fun, ‘roller coaster’ kind of way. It was more of the team-park from hell.
I don’t remember one thing that happened after I passed out at the game. Not how I got back to my room, or who it was that brought me there. I don’t have the slightest idea of how I got into my bed, or how I got that piece of plaster over my eye. I just remember getting a phone-call from my Mom, and that she was crying and worrying about me. I got annoyed with her, because she kept talking so loud. I think I hung up on her while she was in the middle of a sentence. I guess I have to apologize to her later. Damn Nish.
I forced myself to get down to breakfast, to avoid getting stupid questions later on why I didn’t show up. This ‘belong to a team’ bit is totally wrong for me. I function best on my own.
“Hey, you!”
Someone I didn’t recognize had just bumped into me. Or I’d bumped into him, was more accurate to say. I lost my balance and was close to fall again. I told you I was clumsy.
“Sorry,” I mumbled to the person.
“You should be,” he growled. “You made me spill out my Coke.”
“I said I’m sorry,” I replied. I was in too much pain to be shy and repressed.
“Hey, Abrahms, what’s taking you so long?” someone yelled from the other side of the hallway.
“Some crazy chick ran into me,” he answered. He looked at me, while trying to brush the stains of his shirt. “You owe me five bucks.”
“For a stupid can of soda?” I asked. “They cost like one dollar.”
“Look, I don’t know from what country below the border you’re from, but here in America, we don’t pay merchandises with shiny objects and salt,” he smirked. “Give me the money, and we’re even.”
I didn’t bother getting into a fight with him, even though he really pissed me off with his comment. If Portman succeeded with scaring me off, this guy was twice as bad. He was part of the football-team, because I saw the logo on his jacket. Probably from varsity or junior.
“I don’t have five dollar,” I mumbled. “Do you take VISA?”
He stared at me as if I was out of my mind. “Do you want me to spell it out for you? You owe me money for ruining my clothes and for my Coke. And I don’t mean the kind of ‘coke’ they produce and sell in the country you’re from.”
I was close to tears by now, but I decided to stand up for myself anyway. “I’m not giving you any money. You were the one running into me.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by some blonde girl that came up to him. “Hey, Keith, I thought you were... Who are you?” she asked me.
“This stupid idiot just destroyed my shirt,” the guy explained. Keith, or whatever his name was. “You’re lucky you didn’t ruin my jacket too, because that would’ve cost you.”
The girl stared at me. “What’s your problem?” she asked. “Didn’t you see him coming?”
“I said I was sorry,” I sighed. “I’m sorry for ruining your shirt.”
“She says she doesn’t have any money to repay me with,” ‘Keith’ said to the girl.
“They usually don’t. I’m surprised she even knows English. She’s probably here on a scholarship. That means that she’s poor. Let’s go.”
I turned around to get the hell away from there, but the girl grabbed my arm. “Be more careful next time, do you copy?”
What’s the point in answering?
“Wait, I know you!” the girl continued. “You’re one of those pathetic Ducks-type of people.”
“One of the hockey-people?” Keith asked. “No way, you’re too...”
“Too small and too slow.”
“Let’s just leave,” Keith suggested. Then he turned to me. “Tell your little Duck-buddies that if they try to mess with us again, we’re destroying something more valuable then just your locker-room.”
So they were the ones trashing our locker-room? But I still didn’t get why, and what he was talking about. We hadn’t messed with the football team, had we?
“Come on, Chrissie. We’re late for practice.”
The girl, Chrissie, walked past me and shoved me into the door. I was close to punching her out, but decided not to. Keith would’ve killed me.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When I finally got to the dining-hall, it was only fifteen minutes left before they took the food away. Everybody was still there, sitting around the same table as they’d been sitting all week. I guess it’s ‘our’ table.
“Where have you been?” Charlie asked me when I got up to them. Right at that point, I was too exhausted and weary to care about how insecure I was. I could worry about that later.
“Nowhere,” I answered and sat down next to Fred.
“How are you?” Adam asked.
“Fine,” I said. Fred rolled his eyes at me. I wish he could stop doing that every time I speak.
They all stared at me, but I just didn’t bother anymore. I could feel embarrassed later; I was too pissed off to give a damn about anything at all. Fred handed me an apple. “I guess you won’t eat today,” he muttered. “Again.”
“I guess I won’t,” I said. “I guess I’ll just eat your apple, even though I don’t like apples.”
“Did you wake up in the mood of ‘bitchy’ today?” Nish winced. “You’re such a pain.”
I threw my apple at him, and he ducked off. When he sat up straight again, he had a huge, annoying grin on his face. “Touchy, huh?”
“Leave her alone,” Fred told him.
“She can defend herself,” Nish muttered. “Don’t stick up for her all the time.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled. Fred rolled his eyes. Again. I completely lost it. “Could you stop doing that every time I say something?” I shouted at him.
“Could you maybe stop mumbling everything you say?” he shot back. “It’s pretty hard to be on your side when you behave like a spoiled brat all the time.”
“I’m the spoiled brat? This comes from the guy that can buy his own country if he feels like it?”
“At least I’m not going around being depressed all the live long day. Could you be anymore annoying?”
“Could you be anymore stupid?”
“Could you be anymore over-bearing?”
“Could you be anymore...” My brain was about to have a breakdown. “Don’t be such a jerk!”
Once again, the big, huge moron rolled his eyes at me. Okay, my comebacks may suck, but I still don’t need to be ridiculed for it.
I didn’t noticed until then that everyone else at the table was quiet. They were all staring at Fred and me. I grabbed Adam’s glass of water and threw it at Fred. I can admit that it was a very childish move. And a very girly one too.
Fred wiped the water out of his face, and then he gave me a tired look. I was expecting him to say something like ‘you’re so childish’, when he suddenly tossed his own apple at me. I ducked, surprised by his behavior. He didn’t look angry, but I frowned anyway.
“Hey, what are you...” I began, but I never had time to finish my sentence before he struck me with the remaining parts of Nish’s pudding. Nish gave up an angry yell, followed by a laugh when he realized that Fred had hit me right on the shoulder.
I slowly turned to face Fred again. The pudding had splashed all over the left side of my face. I gave him a terrified look, and he bit his lip, while trying to hide a smile. Then he put his hand over his mouth and leaned closer.
“Sorry,” he said. “I thought you were going to duck again.”
“I might be a Duck, but that doesn’t mean that I’m aware of when people are supposed to throw... pudding at me,” I said with as much calm as I could bring.
“I didn’t mean to,” Fred continued. I decided to not give a damn about that either. I grabbed the next item to throw at him. Adam’s candy-bar.
“Hey, I was eating that!” Adam exclaimed.
Back in my old school, I never caused any trouble at all. I rarely spoke, the only ones I knew were my classmates and I never disobeyed the rules of the school. I’d been like a little depressed angel back then. In one week, I’d been able to get drunk, get into several fights, break ground rules, make my coaches pissed off, get into detention, and get a food-fight started. What’s with this city?
I guess I could blame Nish, since he technically was the reason to why that first apple got thrown. But it was pretty much just Fred and I that started that food-fight. He threw food at me, and I threw food at him. I think we both have some severe brain damages.
Fred never told me what sort of punishment he got for starting the food-fight in the dining-hall. I never told him mine. I just know that when Coach Bombay was finally done shouting at me, my headache was even worse then before, and I was not allowed to be in the game later that day, mostly because of my injury.
At least I got out of cleaning the mess up, because after Fred and I was done throwing food at each other, the rest of the school had already joined in. That made it easy for us to get out of the worst punishment. The cleaning-up part.
I got to say, I feel bad for Nish. He didn’t even start the fight, and still he had to clean up. Payback is a bitch sometimes. Ha!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
~*~*~
~*~*~