Because I Fell For You
The looks that people were shooting at me didn't bother me. I already knew that I looked insane with my facial expressions changing every other second to match the dreadful emotional rollercoaster I was riding on. Frustration was first, horror was second, next came the panic, anger--no, rage was after that, and then it was back to frustration. I defined the meaning of hyperventilation.
"You okay there, Kimmy?" The sonofabitch dare ask.
"You wrote a fake note pretending to be me," I said in a deadly calm tone. Roy seemed to thought that I was happy about this because he nodded in a cheerful manner. Idiot. "In it, saying how much I want to press myself against Travis Aimes and kiss him senselessly." He nodded, proud of what he has done. "And when you gave it to him, you clearly stated that it was from me."
"Yeah. Aren't you glad I helped you out?" Roy asked me, friendly nudging my side. "You've had a crush on him since the eighth grade and now he finally knows how you feel about him. I know, I know I am such a good friend. No need to hold back your thank yous."
Reminder: Tell Roy's girlfriend about the time he slapped one of his teacher's buttocks (thinking it was someone else---god knows who) in seventh grade. If that's not torture enough for Roy, show his girlfriend the diary that he keeps under his pillow filled with all his sweet little secrets.
With the textbook in my hand, I slammed it down, hard, on Roy's head.
"Ow--Kimmy!" That should kill all the remaining brain cells he has left.
"If your going to murder Roy, I'll help you bury his body!" Samantha said cheerfully as she popped up beside me with three AP textbooks in her small hands. I swear, she takes those courses for fun. "I'll help you get rid of all the possible evidence that could lead you to being a suspect. Oh, and I even know the perfect place to dump him at. No body would look there in years! It'll be the perfect crime!"
Roy shot a glare at Samantha. "Your going to become a murderer when you grow up, you know that?"
"That's my dream!" She flashed him a smile that immediately dropped when she saw me. "What's up with you?"
Nice to know that I make people sad when they look at me.
"I'm currently suffering from temporary depression," I answered. I have never been so relieved that school had already ended. I wouldn't have to face--"Holy fuc--" Samantha shot me a look. She disliked it when people cursed. I automatically corrected myself. "Flipping fudging sheets."
All I could do was think why, why me? My crush of two years now believes that I want to glue myself to him and kiss him until he loses all his senses. Which I do wish I could do but that's not the point. He's not suppose to ever know that. But he knows. Our relationship of science partners and waving every time we saw each other could, with no doubt, be declared ruined. And to add onto my depressing day, I saw him in clear view, walking down the hall with his eyes scanning the place, as if he was looking for someone.
I gulped and right at that second, my eyes made contact with his. A smirk slowly formed on his face. Soon enough, he was speed-walking down the hall, pushing past people, towards me. I, on the other hand, was freaking out beyond belief.
Hyperventilating for the second time today. This is not good for my health.
I did the only two possible things I could do: One, I threw my two best friends in front of me (while letting out a scream). That's what they're for after all. Best friends are meant to be used for shields and distractions. Two, I ran. Ran like my pants were on fire. I didn't look back once. I kept running like Dory kept swimming.
Just keep running, I told myself, just keep running.
I made it a block away from school before having to use a street pole as back support from exhaustion. This is what I get for 'having a fear of running' every time we had to do any type of movement that's faster than walking during P.E. class. At least that earned pity from my P.E. teacher (who loves exercising that it has become an obsession) which earns me a beautiful A-. She also loves my acrobatic skills. I do do some awesome somersaults.
"This is enough exercise for the week," I breathed in and out endlessly. "Make that the year."
"Are you okay, miss?" I opened my eyes and saw a fragile looking old women standing in front of me.
"Yes," I managed to get out after countless of breaths.
She looked so concerned. "You look like you're about to have a heart attack."
"Would you like me to help you cross the street? You look like you're about to faint."
…Why do I get the feeling that this should be the other way around?
Another being materialized beside the sweet old lady. "It's okay, m'am. I'll take care of her."
"Yeah, yeah, he'll take care of---pooping poodles!" I've been hanging around Samantha a little too much. "Travis?!" I didn't take the time to pause and think. I pushed myself off the pole and attempted to run. I collapsed (literally, falling onto the floor) the moment I took a step forward. This is sad. I didn't think I was that exhausted.
Travis assured the women that he'll take care of me. I could feel the old lady watching me with weary eyes as she walked away. Once she was gone, Travis averted his eyes onto me. "You fell for me right before my eyes," he said, teasingly. "You must like me more than imaginable."
Wanting to stop kissing the sidewalk, I rolled over onto my back. "It's imaginable," I said dryly. Translation: I fantasize about making out with you all the time! Kiss me, mold me into your body, run those long fingers of yours through my hair!
"Is that so?" He stretched out a hand, offering to pull me up. I took it and with a strong jerk, I was back on my feet, my body pressed against his. His other arm wrapped around my waist. I was madly blushing and hyperventilating. I'm going to have a serious problem if this hyperventilating thing keeps up.
I couldn't help it. I looked up. His chocolate brown eyes were trained onto mine. If he wasn't holding me, I would've melt into a pile of goo like the Wicked Witch of the West did when she was met with water. He was leaning closer, his lips oh so close to mine. Instinctively, my eyes shut, waiting for him to kiss me.
I waited, waited, and waited.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
My eyes flew open. His grinning lips had retreated back and his eyes were laughing. Disappointment and embarrassment was rising in my chest. But immediately, anger overpowered that disappointment and every other single emotion I had. With all my might and strength (which is of a ten year old) I kicked him in the shin. I watched in entertainment as his face churned with a mixture of pain and confusion.
I childishly stuck my tongue out at him before running off.
"You stuck your tongue out at him? What are you, five?" Apparently, my two best friends found this hilarious because they couldn't stop laughing. They were clutching their stomachs and looked as if they were about to fall off of their seat. They're probably wetting their pants by now.
"Sixteen, actually," I said. I buried my face into my hands. "I feel so bad for kicking him in the shin too." I sulked. Saying that made them laugh even more. I rolled my eyes and turned away from them, deciding to distract myself by (last minutely) doing my homework for my next class when I realized that I left my binder in my locker.
My extremely laid-back teacher was too busy playing cards (yes, cards are not allowed in school) with some of the other students. If I asked him if I could go to my locker, he would probably just throw me a hall pass. Not wanting to trouble him with such trivial matters, I slipped out of my noisy and cheerful classroom.
Twelve tries later and my locker still wouldn't open. I was about ready to beat it to a pulp. The Hulk was on vacation right now, so I couldn't call him over to help me open (via destroy) my locker. So, I puffed out of my chest, feeling independent, and raised my tiny fist in the air. I was ready to strike my persistent locker when I got interrupted by a smooth and familiar voice.
"You kicked me in the shin and now you're punching your locker? How much anger do you have?"
My body did a one-eighty. "W-w-what are you doing here?"
"I saw you walked past my classroom and decided that you're much more interesting than my boring Calculus teacher," he smirked and held up a bathroom pass.
My cheeks matched the redness of a tomato. "Oh." I think my vocabulary just reduced to that of a newborn baby. If my preschool teacher would've just taught me about love, hormones, and how to act in front of a gorgeous specimen, I wouldn't be in this situation right now.
"By the way, I know that the note wasn't from you. Roy told me after Samantha gave him an ultimatum to fix the problem or be run over by her car and thrown into the land fill," he said. His eyes scanned me up and down and finally, they settled onto my flustered face. "But obviously, you did and still want to press yourself against me and kiss me senselessly."
"It's your fault for being such a sexy beast." Did I just call him a sexy beast? Kill me, just kill me now.
Before it even registered in my now peanut of a brain, his body was pressed against mine with my back glued to the lockers. And once I comprehended that he was on top of me (gradually crushing my ribs), his lips were on mine. Kissing me softly, as if I would break if he placed any more force. But he was wrong. I was already breaking, melting, swooning. I didn't even have the chance to kiss back before he pulled away.
"For leaving you lingering yesterday," he said, smiling. It wasn't a smirk anymore, just a simple smile. And my heart was going ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump hurriedly and endlessly. "I knew you wanted to kiss me but you were just so cute to tease and I couldn't help myself. I tend to tease people I like."
He called me 'cute'. And he kissed me. Hehe. I could forever live happily.
Wait, pause, stop. "You like me?"
He gave me a wink. "Maybe, just a little." And then coolly, he walked away.
He looked over his shoulder, still walking. "Yeah?"
I smiled. "You'll fall for me just like I fell for you," I said with certainty and a hint of hope.
A shock expression crossed his face and just like that, he mistook a step and tripped.
And right before my eyes, he fell.
Author's Note: So, I do not own Dory from Finding Nemo. Though, it would be awesome if I did. I love Dory :). And to all the reviewers, readers, and bored people who are looking for something to read, thank you very much for taking your time to take a glace at my work. It means a lot to me. :D