And she did. She told me all about him. Every little nit-pick thing that not even the poor boy's mother would know. She's never even talked to him! I have to say, I'm getting quite concerned about her mental health. She told me the way he brushed his mahogony-colored hair back 'only with three fingers! Isn't that interesting?', she told me the way he looked at the clock 'he only turned his head half way! His profile is so shapely!' she even friggin' mentioned the color of his shoelaces! It's obsession at first sight!
After waving good bye to my clinically ill best friend, I walk home in sweet silence, finally in releif of her insufferable talking about this poor, poor boy. I mean, he looked cocky, but no one deserves this torture. I laugh under my breath and pull my hairband out of my hair, then run tired fingers through the shoulder-length locks. Then, I pull my phone out of my pocket to check if Marcy has any other things to ask of me.
Nothing from her, but a message from Becky. I press the 'read' button and sigh.
Help me. Katy is nonstop talking about trevon
and his oozing perfection. She's using up all of
my home-phone minutes!
I laugh to myself, knowing that now she feels my pain.
I walk down the sidewalk, not paying attention, when suddenly I feela strong force knock me down in one blow. No warning, just...boom. Before I can even react, my whole body splats against the sidewalk with a thump. 'Ow.' Is all I think, feel, and see. My arms sting and I feel blood on the side of my face immediately.
I hear a weird panting sound as I try to pick myself up off of the sharp pavement. Wow, the pain. I glance over and see a large dog standing about two feet away, looking at me with big, brown, smiling eyes as he lets his tongue hang out as if it's saying 'hello'. I wince in pain and breathe in through clenched teeth, but keep my eye on the dog. I've never been a dog person. Never trusted them, always thought they were kind of...scary. Even this one who looks like a big ball of 'i'm gonna pee myself' hapiness.
I plant my feet firmly on the ground, looking down at the big mut-looking dog. I've never seen this breed, so I'm just assuming. He wags his tail and looks up at me, not noticing the blood on my face like I do. I press my lips together, not knowing exactly how to react. If I run, will he chase me? If I shoo him, will he bite me? If I stay this way will he? I don't know, but I still don't like this.
I notice a green leash hanging from the green collar on his neck, so I'm just gonna go out on a limb and say that he was on a walk and ran away. But, if so, where's the owner. When people lose their dogs, they usually scream their names trying to call them back. And you can hear it for a half mile. But I hear nothing.
As I stand there, my answer comes. I hear a whistle, and I look in the direction of the sharp sound.I whip my head around to seea boy walking up as nonchalantly as he possibaly could be. He whistles sharply again, and the dog's ears perk up high. He trots to the boy, and I frown. It's an unmisteakable face.
I frown, already seeing enough of this kid today. Now he's come back to haunt me. Like he needs to rub it in my face that every girl in school likes him, and that he's amazing or something. Okay, it's not his fault, but still.
I wipe the blood off of my left eyebrown and wince again. Then, I turn to the dog and Trevon. I probably have a furious look on my face.
Trevon looks up at me with a blank face. "You're bleeding."
Thankyou. "Yeah. Your dog knocked me over." I say angrily.
"Oh." He says, shoving one hand in his pocket and taking the leash in his other hand.
Really? No apology? Just oh? RUDE. "You should reall-"
He totally cuts me off, obviously not caring about a single thing I have to say. "Hey, I saw you earlier with that brunette chick."
I scowl, knowing I this kid couldn't make a worse impression if he tried. He's just proving my judging of his cover right. "Yeah, her name-"
"She's kinda cute." He says, keeping a blank face.
"That's nice." I snap.
"Yeah...Tell her I said hi." He says, yanking his dogs collar and walking away without another word. I stand in shock, watching this D-bag walk away to wherever he's going. I clench my fists, absolutely hating people like him. They drive me up the wall.
I pick up my bag and scoff angrily, wanting to punch somebody. I wipe more blood off of my face and stalk down the street, with a slight limp from the way I landed because of that stupid dog. I couldn't be more mad.
But, Katy will be happy.
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