I've only got myshelf to blame
“Why don’t women have men’s brains?” My friend, Layla asked as she pulled away from a kiss from her ‘beloved’ boyfriend.
“Women don’t have dicks to put them in,” I snorted.
“Touché,” she replied, smiling as she rubbed a bit of her lipstick from her boyfriend’s, Connor, lips. I scrunched up my nose and so did my other friend Alyssa.
Connor and Layla got together in our sophomore year. They been all lovey dovey ever since. Layla was kind and sweet and nice and Connor was that overprotective whacko who you couldn’t help but smack in the face with a broom.
Alyssa was like scary. When someone hurt me or Layla. If Connor got hurt, she’d just laugh at him and feed him to Jackson. Scary. No wonder, loads of boys are after her. But she’s got eyes only for the ladies.
Meaning she’s lesbian.
Which makes her twice as cool.
And then there’s me.
I have a habit of bursting into random Melanie Martinez sings in awkward situations. I also have a habit of smiling creepily at people who look nice.
Totally not my fault.
It’s their fault for looking nice. I mean they could put red lipstick under their eye bags and forget to blend it. I wouldn’t be looking then, would I?
“Have you seen Gary?” Layla asked, as she shoved Connor off her face.
“You mean the pet snail in Spongebob? Yeah, I saw him on TV before school today,”
“No, dumbass. My brother Gary,” Layla dead panned, face-palming herself at my lack of intelligence. What does she know? I’m so clever.
Please honey, remember when you stared at frozen juice can for about an hour because it said ‘concentrate’, inner me says
Pfffft. That was like when I was 10.
No honey, it was last Tuesday, inner me says.
“Ugh! Shut up!”
Everyone turned to look at me. My eyes opened wide in realization. Was I just talking to myself?
Yep, you were.
I can’t. You see I’m you and you’re me so technically I can’t.
“I don’t care if you’re me or if I’m you. You should just go even if you can’t go away from me but I can go away from you. Wait, I can’t go away from you because you’re me and I’m you and we are both each other and you and me are the same person!”
“Geez, Charlotte. I only asked if you’ve seen Gary,”
Okay, Charles Dickens you can do this. You just knock on the door and ask Jackson to help tutor you for the Science Games. No biggie..right? You’re totally calm. You can do this.
I’m this close to peeing my pants.
I hovered my hand over the handle of the school basement. The other hand was occupied by holding a plateful of milk and cookies. I somehow managed to make it balance.
Just kidding! Balance and I in a single sentence is like a komodo dragon and the 3 year old girl who lives next door in the same room sharing the same bed. I shook my head, violently to get the picture out of my head.
I pushed the door open and waited for somebody to shoot and yell bloody murder.
So I opened my eyes and saw that half the room was a dumpster and the other half was cleaner than a Justin Bieber song. My eyes grew wide until they popped out of my eye sockets and ran off to buy cocaine.
Just kidding! You are so gullible!
I stepped in and looked around. There was a knife on the table. A knife? Is this Jackson guy some crazy, weird psychopath? Nah.
“Hello?” I called out. “It’s me,”
“Errr...hi?” a voice called out. I spun around almost knocking over the cookies.
I took in the body infront of me. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Oh My God.
It’s Logan Owens.
“Hey...” I trailed off, drooling at his drool worthy body.
“Do you need anything, Charlotte Ridgewood?” he smirked.
“What...why...how the fudgecake do you know my name!?” I spluttered.
“Don’t forget your dad is world-known,”
Oh right. Pfffft.
“Aaagh!” I squealed.
“I just realized I wore my sports bra the wrong way round for the whole day!” This is so bad. My boobs are so uncomfortable. Aaagyduei!
“Logan. Are you watching porn, cause I swear I just heard a gi-WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” a person called from behind me.
“Who the fuck is that, Logan, and why the fuck is she here?” the guy asked.
“I know she’s Charlotte Ridgewood but I have no idea why she’s here, Derek.” Logan replied.
“Well, if you’d let me.. I don’t know...EXPLAIN then I could...I don’t know...TELL YOU?!”
The two guys quirk an eyebrow at me. I coughed. ” I am Charlotte Ridgewood. I am 17 years old. I am the best and I can eat ice cream really fast.”
They stared at me, blankly. “I’m here to ask Jackson for tutoring,”
“JACKSON! THERE IS A PRETTY GIRL WHO WANTS YOU!” The guy- Derek- screamed. Loud footsteps were heard. I turned my head to see a guy. A hot guy. Jackson Anderson.
His bare, expressionless eyes bore into mine. He had dark brown hair and electric green eyes. Everything was silent. Except the rat that was nibbling something that looked like a mouldy sock on the sofa. Pigs.
I smiled, sheepishly. “Do you want my cookies?” I held out the plate of cookies infront of me. “They’re made just for you. A little bit of sugar,” No! Not Melanie Martinez singing time already. “But lots of poison too!” I burst out.
“Excuse me?” Derek said. I smiled.
I walked towards them carefully. Jackson was full on scrutinizing me. Um, like, hello?
“Looks like you need the cookies more,” Jackson commented, with nothing but a hint of boredom in his voice.
Excuse me? I may be on the skinny side of life but how dare he?
“Everytime someone comments about my figure, I cut myself,” I said, wiping away a fake tear. Derek and Logan’s eyes open wide while Jackson just sits there.
“Y..you cut yourself!?” Derek and Logan said together.
“Yeah, I cut myself... A PIECE OF CAKE, CAUSE WHY THE HELL NOT!?” I say, advancing towards them. Suddenly, I tripped on the rubber duck on the floor. Making my cookies and glass of milk splutter over someone’s head. I rubbed my head and looking up to see Jackson covered in milk and a cookie over one of his eyes. I giggled. Like full on guffawed. “BAHAAA!”
Jackson stared at me with fuming anger. Like steam was coming out of ears. Oh wait...
It’s just earwax.
“Eww. Why is there earwax in your ears?” I said, crinkling my face in disgust.
Apparently , that triggered him. I got up and punched him in the eye. He started crying and then I cut off his penis and flung it out the window. It fell on the principal’s head. Then she stuck it on her vagina and cut off her boobs. I then stuck her boobs on Jackson and dyed his hair purple.
Just kidding! Instead I...
I jumped over the sofa that the rat was one a minute ago.
“DEREK! LOGAN! GET THAT LITTLE BITCH!” Jackson shouted. My heart jumped outta my chest and I grabbed it and stuffed it back inside my body.
I ran out of the room and entered a dim lit hallway. Hmm.... Suspicious.
I entered the first room I saw. Geez, why is the school basement so big? The room was light blue and a person was inside. Wearing only a towel around their waist.
“Holy mother of chicken nuggets,” I gushed. The guy looked up at me and smirked. I was dazzled by his dazzling smile and bashed into the book shelf beside me. The bookshelf fell and the hooks scattered everywhere.
“I’ve only got myshelf to blame,” I admitted, looking at the ground.
Aren’t I punny? I’ll be even punnier tomorrow because it’s April 1st.
April Fools Day.
The day I have conquered everyone and slammed pies into people’s unaware faces.
Huh, now that I mention it. “I’m a frickin’ bitch!” I spluttered.
“Exactly what I’m trying to say,” Derek said, grinning wickedly as he stood in the doorway.
“Creep,” I muttered as I tried to get up. Key word: tried. I ended up falling on my buttock again. “My ass!” I whined in pain. When I looked back up, I saw three amused faces and one fuming face.
Is he angry? Why is he angry? Shouldn’t he know that I’m a walking talking disaster zone?
“Err...someone help me?” I smiled, falsely. Logan stepped forward and held out a hand. I accepted it and hailed myself off the floor.
“Jackson?” I asked, quietly. Jackson greeted me with a death glare. He raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips in a thin line. “I need you to tutor me,”
“Really? You’re just one of those pretty girls who drop their panties at the sight of a hot guy,” he sneered, his eyes stoic and emotionless.
I put a hand to my chest and pouted.
“I mean, would you look at that skirt?” He said, looking at my legs. I looked down and saw that my skirt had ridden up while I was escaping these psychopaths. I sheepishly pulled at my skirt so it lower than my mid thigh.
“What? No way? She so cute!” Logan gushed, squishing my cheeks.
“She’s okay,” Derek sighed.
I looked at the guy who was only dressed in a towel. He shrugged.
“Don’t you talk?” I asked him.
“Can you talk?”
“What’s your name?”
“Do you have a vagina?”
“Is it true that Jackson jumped a tree?”
He froze. And then shrugged.
“Dammit!” I whined.
“Shut up, bitch. I’m this close to strangling you on the spot,” Jackson gritted out.
“Woah! Don’t hurt my baby!” Logan whined, as he grabbed me and pulled me into his chest. I snuggled in closer to get heat.
“Let me introduce you to the group!” Logan gushed. “This is Derek. He likes farting and being an ass,”
“I think you got confuzzled between Jackson and Derek,” I mumbled quietly. Jackson heard and shot me a death glare.
Logan chuckled as his chest vibrated. “This is Ethan,” he said, gesturing to the guy who shrugs a lot. “He doesn’t like interacting with people,”
“Jackson here is-”
“A psychopath. Yep, I know,” I finished. Jackson tightened his fists and clenched his jaw.
“Whatever. And then there’s me. Logan Owens. Hot, sexy and downright handsome,” he winked at me. I rolled my eyes.
“And you? Who are you?” Derek asked. I’m pretty sure I told him my name already.
“I am your father,”
And then I died.
I zoomed out of the room and ran up the stairs of the basement.
Taking one last look at their faces, I rushed out the room.
Time to buy donuts...