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Chapter 12
Have you ever been so mad and furious that all of your anger and intensity just seems to fizzle out?
You just get so shocked and enraged that all of it seems to combust itself into a little piddle of smoke that leaves you with your jaw-hanging open at whatever pissed you off so bad in the first place?
Yeah, I’m there.
Sebastian is standing not three feet away from me, holding my keys.
The keys to my ugly piece of poop van that I very distinctly remember putting in my purse this morning, and then leaving my purse in my locker all day. And my locker has a lock on it with my own personal code, because I don’t trust anyone.
This being a perfect example for fucking why.
He’s just standing there, my keys balanced on his pointer finger, while he has the other hand on his hip and he’s grinning like he’s just found the crystal skull and is gloating it in Indiana Jones’s face. Which is what it kind of feels like for me, because I just went through an enormity of hell so I could just look for those damn keys, and whaddya know? Sebastian has them.
“Bu-Bu-Bu-Bu-But!! H-How in the fuck do you-?! What the hell–?!” Is all I can sputter, all of my former rage gone and shocked bafflement in its place.
Sebastian laughs and starts spinning my keys on his finger. My eyes follow them helplessly. “How did I get your keys? Secret.”
I stare at my keys for another second feeling confusion, then my anger roars up like a lion who just got poked with a pin. How in all of fucks sake did he fucking get my keys?!! I lurch forward to try and grab them, shouting, “Give them here!”
Sebastian jerks them out of reach easily, and I’m left standing under his upwards extended arm, my hands stretched up and reaching. He laughs at me and I turn and swat at him, clipping his side as he dances out of the way. “Oh ho ho, easy now,”
“How in the hell did you get my keys!?” I roar, my face turning red from hate and the strain on my voice box to yell like that. Sebastian’s eyebrows raise at my intensity but he’s still smiling jubilantly.
He starts spinning my keys on his finger again. “I got someone to get in your locker and get them.” He says pointedly.
My jaw drops. He got someone to get in my locker? How?! I have my own combination– “Oh, and 12341 isn’t that sneaky of a combination psycho, he figured it out right away,” Sebastian says, grinning at my furious expression.
My fists clench and some knuckles crack. “Who is ‘he’?” I ask darkly. When I find this kid, he’s done.
“Oh, nah, lets leave my little friend out of this. He’s my own personal hacker, and I’d like to keep it that way,” Sebastian says, grinning and still spinning my keys. I hope they spin off and stab him in the eye.
“Why the hell would this kid do that for you? You’re such as asshole!” I snarl, wanting to jump at Sebastian right now and rip his fucking face off. Problem is, he probably deals with guys who weigh more than me all the time on the field, so I wouldn’t do much. But hell, imagining it works.
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I'm The Geek Who Slapped A Football Player.
Teen Fiction*ALL RIGHTS RESERVED* Clarisse Hornitt is a nerd. Or a geek. But, not your typical nerd/geek, as she won't put up with bullshit and will promptly tell you how it is regardless to how it makes you feel. She manages to get into a physical altercation...
