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Bumblebee for the Cat
Author:
frogfarts PM
Melissa is sick of being who others want her to be. Tom is sick of not being who others want him to be. Melissa decides to help Tom be someone he's not because she likes him.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Friendship - Words: 931 - Reviews: 1 - Follows: 1 - Published: 11-04-12 - id: 3071558
A+  A-   Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten

Rating: T for language (Again...)

Melissa stared at the cold, grey building and then at the bright clear world outside it. Fuck it. She'd just tell her tutor she was deathly ill or something. It was a fucking Saturday, what did they expect from her! Melissa turned right around and wandered into the park. She bought some pink cotton candy and an ice cream sandwich with vanilla chocolate chip ice cream between two chocolate chip cookies. Fuck the world, she thought and sat down to eat.

"I'm getting fat today!" she announced. Two middle-aged joggers looked horrified.

She wondered what to eat first and decided on the ice cream sandwich before it melted. Unfortunately, she miscalculated. The ice cream was frozen solid, and she almost broke her teeth on it (Melissa has sensitive teeth. She even has a special toothpaste for it). So she came up with a new strategy. She slowly gnawed on the sides of the cookie as she waited for it to thaw.

As Melissa sat there stuffing her face, or at least attempting to, she noticed what appeared to be a guy around her age having some sort of fit on the bench across the street.

Fuck the world!" he yelled and shredded his textbook. She sighed sympathetically and walked over there, dodging bicycles and athletic people. She sat down next to him, despite the fact he could be a druggie or a rapist in disguise.

"'Sup," she said.

"What do you want?" he snarled.

"Dunno, man," Melissa answered truthfully. "You?"

He looked confused. His thick eyebrows bunched together. "Huh?"

"What about you? What do you want?"

"Well, I… I want to learn this stupid math! But I can't! I hate it!"

"If you hate it, why are you learning?"

"'Cause I'm stupid, that's why!"

"I'm not understanding this," said Melissa. He was quite cute, she decided. His brown eyes were nicely almond shaped, and his nose was adorable. She wondered if she should hit on him. She decided not to. He was in a state, after all.

"I told you, stupid, I'm stupid! I'm a fucking retard! I can't learn this shit, and everyone says I'm dumb!"

"Do you like math?" she asked.

"Hell no!"

"Then don't do it. Who cares about them?"

"I do! I don't wanna be the dumb one. No one likes you if you're stupid."

"That's not true. I like stupid people."

He looked at her again, with his cute confusion. "Whatever. You're fucking weird."

"You don't like weird people?"

"What? I don't know. I don't really care."

"Well, I don't care if people are stupid. You know," she said in a whisper, leaning close to his ear. "some people are just pretending to be smart. Yes," she nodded. "It's a conspiracy!"

He busted out laughing. "What? You're weird!" Then his face got unhappy again. "But that's not true about her. Sarah is smart. She definitely is. She gets one hundred percent on her tests." He looked so sad Melissa racked her brain for something to say to make him laugh again, but nothing came to mind. That probably was a sign from God that it was time to be serious.

"Why do you care about Sarah?" she asked him.

"That's private," he blushed.

"Oh," said Melissa. "So Sarah doesn't like stupid people?"

"No," he said miserably.

"What's so great about Sarah anyway?"

He sighed, and then smiled. "She's so smart and nice and beautiful. I don't know. I just know. She's pretty great."

"Oh," she said. Well, then. "Hey, I get perfect scores too. And I know I'm awesome and nice and beautiful."

He looked at her, his eyes widened. "You get perfect scores! You're smart!"

"Yeppers. Super smart. Never gotten below an A- in my life."

"Then," he said shyly. "Could you-"

"Yes?"

"Could you tutor me?" Are you fucking kidding me?

She sighed. "Sure."

"But I don't have any money…"

"I don't care," she smiled at him. "I'll tutor you for free."

He beamed, his eyes scrunching up. "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!"

"No problem," she laughed. His happiness was contagious. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Tom."

"I'm Melissa."

"Melissa, could you help me with graphing parabolas?"

"Sure! Tom. Where do you need help?"

"Right here, oh…"

"What?"

"I think I might have torn out and crumbled the page…"

"Then let's find it!" Melissa looked around the park. "There it is!" she pointed to the road. The math page bounced along the road, propelled by the wind, dodging bikers and fleeing from dogs like it had a mind of its own. "It's escaping! Hurry!"

They sprinted after it, racing past the joggers and the horses and almost getting killed by cyclists.

"What is wrong with you kids!" yelled a lady whose terrier they almost trampled.

"Sorry, ma'am!" Melissa said. "We're on a mission."

"I got it!" yelled Tom and tackled the math paper. "Ha!"

"Woo!" she said. "Yes! Here, give it."

He got up and dusted himself off and gave her the math paper. She read through it. It was basic stuff with factoring. "Okay! I'll show you how to do this. Hey, how about we find a meeting place, so I can teach you other days too?"

"Thank you so much," Tom said. "Why would you do this for me?"

"'Cause I'm fucking awesome."

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