Well, Dr Butterfly, I think I want to share my insecurity issues. You see, ever since I was a wee little girl, I've been afraid of Dudes above the age of fourteen, and –

Not now, you idiot! Ice cream boy, focus!

Oh, right.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh yeah, that's what they all say," I rambled on, "Sounding all 'Mr Nice Guy' and safe. But you're all the same." Staring with those watchful eyes, which keep… staring."

I think my wonderful conclusion confused him more. "Excuse me?"

"You won't get away with this!"

"Excuse me?"

"Stop sounding like a record tape, you dangerous man!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh yeah, that is totally original."

Uh oh. Rotting turnip, turnip rotting.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

Phew, at least he didn't use the F-word. "I mean, first you ask me for pickle flavored ice cream, then you fucking cry rape!" I knew it was too good to be true! And I only called him a pervert… wait, what if he was a rapist?

Oh shit! He's gonna firetruck me! He's gonna firetruck me!

"What the hell are you blabbering about? Whats a firetruck got to do with this?"

Ain't it cliché that the crazy girl realises she spoke her thoughts out loud and then says, "Oops"?

"So you admit that you're crazy?" He dropped his Highly Pissed Dude scene for a second, then picked it up again. "Listen, kid, next time, just take the ice cream and leave."

Okey Dokey… Wait… Whoa, whoa, whoa.

"I AM NOT A KID!"

If NID (Nerdy Ice cream Dude) was creeped out, he didn't show it. "Oh yeah, and your outburst totally proves it."

"You're the kid." After a moment I stupidly added, "HA!"

Um.

Now I know I don't really like this guy, but he doesn't look so good.

Why is he… sleeping?

"He passed out, dumbass! Right into your arms!" I searched the crowd formed by NID's tantrum (Ha, whos the kid NOW? Dang, still me.) and found a petite granette (Brown is bru, green is gra) with glittery green eyes.

I couldn't have possibly said the sleeping thing out loud, right? I swear, people just read my mind shamelessly!

"Or we could just easily hear what you burst out," she said dryly.

"Who're you?"

"Haley Day, a.k.a. girl who has to save your ass right now."

Hey, I think I just found my new best friend.

Wait, did she say her name was –

"Kindly save the giggles for later," Haley Day (must… control… laughter) snapped. Then, she curiously asked, "Isn't he a little bit heavy?"

I just remembered that NID was currently lying in my arms like a Forbidden Princess, and abruptly dropped him. He fell to the ground with a THUD (not kidding. It was sorta cool. Thud! Thud! Not a kid, not a kid), making every person in the crowd wince, except for the friendly, coffee break taking mall cops… who are dragging him, calling the medics…

This can't be good.

They actually let me into the room. Apparently he was serious enough to be in a hospital.

Max sat next to me, but after about twenty minutes, I got bored. I peered into his face. He had the coolest glasses, only a metallic blue liner frame at the bottom of each rectangle.

Haley Day (HD. High definition. Man, this gets funnier and funnier) was leaning against a wall, almost like an emo kid, except when her glittery eyes stared at me when I went to investigate.

Now, staring is just plain rude.

"Did you just bray at me?"

And I had beat her to it.

I resumed peering at NID, and suddenly noticed a few whiteheads on his nose. The looked better than freckles. His head was gorgeous – almost hear shaped, mars alien, which could have been weird on any other boy. Hair was black and shiney, almost oily. His eye brows were thick, but not misdirected – he looked like a nerdy version of Gentleman Satan, with thin crust lips.

Ooh, chocolate…

"What, you thought you could frighten me as soon as I woke up?"

How can someone so mean have such nice eyes?

I am so glad I didn't say that out loud.

"Yeah. Mhm. Mmm. Right. Bye."

Well, that was a surprisingly short phone conversation, especially for someone like him.

I tried to act casual, knowing I was failing miserably. "So?"

"Hmm?" he slipped the phone into his pocket. "Oh, the call? Funny you ask. Just my Mom. Then my Uncle, who is, actually, my employer. They were worried, cause this stuff hasn't happened in a long time, and – "

"I was asking about your fainting problem," I spoke gently, amused by his girlish ability to talk.

"Some seizure. Details, later." He observed me for a second. "You new here?"

"Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around before."

"No shit, duh."

Whatever chance I had of befriending him vanished when he shot a death glare. "Geez, you're worse than the other chicks." I wonder if that was referring to stereotypical cheerleaders. I've never actually met one of them before. "So, what is your problem?"

"Huh?" then I remembered why we hated each other. "Oh, that's easy. I'm heterophobic. That means – "

"Fear of the opposite sex, yeah I know. I suppose there is some dramatic story here."

"No rape cases issued where I've been around," I assured him, and he gave a hint of a smile.

"No reason, whatsoever?"

"If I remember, I'll tell you. Is the school here good?"

He shrugged. "To each his own. I won't even try telling you."

I was impressed. "So you're okay, right?" He nodded, so I went, "So I'll see you around?"

He shrugged again.