(c) Judyth

Daphne

I can't believe him. He did it again. He's such a jerk.

I don't understand what his problem is. He's always had something against me. I never did anything to him; not that I remember, at least.

He's been a jerk since the first time we met, too.

He'd just moved in to the house next door and his parents were talking to mine, chatting up like they were the best of friends already. Not that that was a surprise, since my parents have always been like that; they've been close ever since, though.

Me, being the six year old girl that I was, was sitting down on the porch steps with two stacks of papers next to me and another stack on my lap and a box of crayons. I was drawing some pictures when the little boy came up to me.

Now, I realize that I looked a little weird, with my dirty blonde hair in two braids and some coloring on my face from my colorful hands because of the crayons. But at the time, I thought I was a cute little girl and that everyone was wonderful no matter what I heard my parents saying. I was a cute little girl.

So what he did next was totally uncalled for.

He'd had an unsure smile on his lips when he first came over to me, and he spoke with an even voice as he said, "Hi."

I hadn't noticed him until he spoke though, so I looked up then and gave a big grin in response. "Hi! I'm Daphne, what's your name?"

He was silent at first as he stared at me, a dumbfounded expression on his face. Then he got all red, which I thought at the time was endearing, until he suddenly exclaimed, "You have stuff all over your face!"

"What?" I'd asked in confusion, my eyebrows furrowing as my hand went up to my face. At the time, I had no idea that the color on my hands had been transferring onto my face.

"Girls have cooties!" He'd exclaimed again, and his eyes seemed a little frightened. As soon as the words left his mouth, he bolted from his spot and over to his new home.

I'd stood up and stared after him, watching him in confusion and hurt, wondering why he was acting like I'd done something wrong, and a little anger. "N-nuh-uh!" I'd stuttered out loudly, my face turning red. Then I'd hurriedly gathered my papers and crayons and darted into the house as our parents stared at me.

I was confused by what had just happened, wondering what I'd done wrong, and going over the words I'd spoken. I mean, all I'd said was hello and asked his name, right? How could he have taken offense from that? I understood now, of course, that he was the one with the problem.

We'd never seemed to grow out of it, though. He continued acting like a jerk to me, and I'd only started retaliating because he never seemed to stop.

Today, though, he decided that it would be funny to trip me when I was walking past him in the cafeteria. Somehow, my plate didn't land on me. It landed in front of me, so none of it got on me. Well, not from my plate, at least.

I then looked up at him from the ground, my eyes narrowed in a glare, like 'what the hells your problem now?'. He had this huge grin on his face, chuckling quietly to himself. I grabbed the container of milk from my plate and stood up. I opened it slowly, all the while looking at him, and then poured it on his head. His eyes had widened in surprise and then he'd shut them quickly in an effort to not get anything in them. When the container was empty I threw it at him. He'd stood up quickly, glaring at me, grabbed some kind of food from his plate, I have no idea what it was, and threw it at me. It landed on my shirt and I let out a shriek from surprise, staring down at my shirt with wide eyes. I then reached over and grabbed something from his plate and smashed it in his face.

That wasn't the end of that, as you can probably tell. It quickly turned into a full out fight, sort of. We didn't exactly punch each other or anything, but we continued to throw food at each other. I'm surprised that no one joined, but instead everyone just watched us. After a few more throws, I lunged myself at him, knocking him onto the ground and we then began to slightly wrestle on the ground. It didn't go very well from there.

We were sent to the principal's office and were given a stern talking to, all while covered in food. Our parents were called.

We're both suspended from school for three days.

I look horrible. I have food in my hair. I have food all over my clothes. I smell terrible.

Skyler is such a jerk! God, I can't believe him. I mean, we've had fights before, but tripping me and throwing food at me? That's low.

"Daphne!" I hear my mother yell from downstairs.

Oh, great.

Now I get to hear what the parents think of what I did.

I'm going to be grounded for a week, I know it

I'm grounded for two weeks.

I'm about ready to walk over to his house and give him a piece of my mind. It won't be hard, since he lives next door, and all.

Skyler

I walk inside my room after talking with my parents about what happened at school today.

I'm grounded for a week.

It's all because I'm an idiot. I know it was my fault.

I got in a fight with her today.

I wanted to talk to her, and I was nervous. It didn't really help that Nick was continuously saying that I should say something to her and that she was walking by. I was beginning to freak out and I didn't know what to say.

So subconsciously I stuck my foot out (as if to stand up, maybe?) and ended up tripping her. It obviously wasn't on purpose, but I couldn't help from laughing quietly about it. I think that she thought I actually meant to trip her, though. 'Cause she stood up and poured her milk on me. So I stood up and threw the dessert (who knows what it was supposed to be for the day) on her. She then grabbed something from my plate and smashed it in my face. I then grabbed something else and threw it at her.

It quickly progressed from throwing things to wrestling, after she threw herself at me (I will admit, albeit with a little bit of embarrassment, that I was not exactly upset about having her that close to me. Quite the opposite, actually.)

We were then sent to the principal's office, and we are now suspended for three days.

Not exactly that upsetting of news, when you think about it. Three free days away from school? Not too bad.

I was laughing about it after we left the principal's office, because it was funny to me. We both looked ridiculous, covered in food. We were both a total mess. I found humor in the situation, while she seemed completely pissed off. And, even though she was covered in food, I still think she looked cute.

As you can tell, I've never really been able to be normal around her. Our first meeting was a disaster, even.

We met when I first moved here. I'd walked up to her while our parents talked, nervous but ready to make a new friend. I'd said hello. Then she'd said hello and smile and asked me my name. And then I'd insulted her. And told her she had cooties.

I was so stupid, even at six. She'd looked at me with these big blue eyes and her hair in braids and color on her face, and I'd freaked. I remember thinking that she was pretty, and wondering why I thought she was pretty, and how could I think she was pretty when she had stuff on her face and her smile was crooked. I had my first glimpse of love at six, an age when I'd been told that girls had cooties and were icky, and I had completely overreacted. I'd insulted her and run away

And now, over ten years later, I was still the same idiot. I still insulted her to her face while thinking the complete opposite.

After getting home, and getting grounded, I changed out of the outfit.

I'm thinking about walking over to her house, which is conveniently next door, and apologizing; or something. I'm afraid I'll end up being the idiot I always am and saying something stupid again. I just get so nervous around her and I can't seem to get what I want to say out. I end up stuttering, or sounding like an idiot. Or insulting her.

With my luck, I'll be thinking that she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, but what will come out will be that she should still had food in her hair from whatever is was that I put there, and duh, hasn't she ever thought of looking pretty for once in her life?

Sometimes it feels like my body and my mouth work together to make my life completely miserable.

She thinks I'm a huge jerk, and mostly she's right. I am a jerk, but mostly because I don't know what to say around her. I'm amazed by her. And I don't know how to show it to her.

I decide on lying down on my bed for a while, because it's the least likely way to make a bad situation worse, (although, maybe that's not completely true. With my luck, I could do nothing and she could still blame me for something,) and then I grab my guitar and begin writing a song as inspiration hits me. The inspiration is her, as it always is.

Because, God, she's gorgeous. (And she was pressed up against me at one point today. Even if it was in anger and we were covered in food, it was fantastic. I could still smell her and feel her on top of me, and that, no matter the reason, was amazing. That, if anything, deserves a song.)

Author's Note: Something I wrote for class several years ago, and I just recently went back and edited it. Tell me what you think?