Chapter 16: Chapter 16

That was harsh.

Even coming from me, I knew it was.

On the way to my locker the next day, I was astounded at the fact that Jesse wasn't leaning against it – smug and ready to corner me into the wall. All of last night, I pictured him returning normally, not making too big of a deal about yesterday and picking up where he left off at chivalry. But this was new.

Where was he?

I glanced down the hallway – my eyes squinting in suspicion as people passed.

What time is it, Sherlock? He's probably on his way to school. No one can be as nerdy as you.

Right...

I turned back to the open locker, and shut it when I was done fumbling around in it. But by then, Jesse wasn't on the other side of the locker when I closed it – usually he would magically appear out of thin air.

Smile, Carson. He's most likely leaving you alone - finally.

I was suddenly torn between tossing my papers in the air while I strutted through the school and hiding in a locker until the school year was over. However, I remained uneasy regardless - was his absense due to me or had something happened to him?

That thought only repeated itself when I showed up to my first class and he wasn't there either. As soon as the class went underway, I remained eying the door, flinching every time someone opened it and it wasn't Jesse.

Did all the crazy hormonal girls he's plowed through kidnap him? Or was my mind playing tricks on me, and imagining the world without him in it?

Either way, it was starting to creep me out.

Out of the entire day, I only had two classes with him – and as strange as it was, I was just a little disappointed when he didn't show up to P.E.

Before I knew it, I was already walking into my last class. Katrina glanced at me when I walked past her desk. "Been having fun lately?" she asked.

My expression fell more noticeably than before. I set my stuff on the floor and slumped into the seat beside her. "If anything, I've been more mad than happy the past few days."

"Face it, you're always mad, Carson."

I rested my head in my hands, agreeing with her entirely. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"If I've learned anything from my best friend, then that'll be to kill people who annoy you."

I looked up at her – a smile playing on my lips.

"Who needs anger management when you can draw pictures of dying stick figures, anyway?" She pondered, twirling the ends of her hair.

I laughed, but got silent when the teacher threatened the whole class with write-ups if we didn't 'quiet down'. Out of force of habit, I was tempted to talk again – but thought better of it since she didn't look like the nicest person today.

After class, Katrina bid me farewell and headed to the back of the school to catch her bus. I always used to tell her I could drive her home - me having a car and all - but she mentioned that there was a boy who rode on the bus also, and she took delight in sitting behind him and staring at his head.

I didn't pester her about riding the bus after that.

Gathering my stuff in my hands so that I wouldn't drop them, I made one last visit to my locker. Almost as if I was being my old carefree self again, I balanced a pencil in my mouth – playing with it as I juggled my bag and my math book in my hands, while trying to pry open the locker at the same time.

I had my bag slung on my shoulder and small book in my hands when I shut the locker – but the book slammed to the floor loudly when I saw what was on the other side.

Damn.

I glanced down at the book and then looked back into his eyes, expecting him to be gallant and pick it up for me.

He never did.

"Aren't you going to get it?"

His stare twisted, resembling ice. "Why should I?"

I didn't bother questioning his tone.

Not that I cared how he talked to me. I shrugged, and easily picked it up. I ignored the look he was giving me, and instead grabbed hold of my stuff before walking around him.

Before I could escape, I heard him again. "Can I ask you something?"

I stopped, eying the people with envy that passed by the end of the hall, going home. Heaving a sigh, I turned around – giving him one look over.

The white loose shirt that hung somewhat low, dark matching jeans, and solid black blazer made me stare too long. He almost looked unreal – what, with the way he kept his eyes directed to the floor as he thought, and his hands stuffed in his pockets were only adding to the dreamlike image.

Wow, am I really staring at his clothes? I'm pretty sure my IQ just dropped ten points.

"Go for it," I muttered.

His eyes flashed up, not necessarily changing color – but slightly growing darker as he studied me. It took him a while to speak, but he got it out before I lost my patience. "Do you like me?"

I made sure I heard that right. When I was sure I did, I glanced around – relieved that most people were clearing out the halls, and not stopping to watch the scene going on.

Finding words on the spot wasn't one of my best qualities, and although at certain times it seemed as if I did – I couldn't answer him as quickly with a straight answer, especially to a clear-cut question like that. "Look...Jesse, I—"

"Just answer the question," he cut me off.

Impatience was something we had in common. "I'm not going to."

His eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"Because it's a stupid question."

"And it only takes someone stupid not to answer it."

I paused.

Walk away before you punch him.

"I'm not going to stay here just to argue." I turned so I could leave again.

But of course, the instigator had to pop in front of me before I got in even two steps. "So by walking away, you're implying that you do?"

Annoyance crossed my features. "No, by walking away I'm implying that you're not worth my time."

"You're time?"

I smiled. "I didn't stutter."

He let me walk past him this time, but his voice filled the hall – almost as if he were musing to himself. "Then I'll just go find someone who will answer it."

I stopped, suddenly bewildered, and turned to look at him. "Find someone to answer it?" I repeated.

He smiled – resembling mine in a mocking way. "I didn't stutter."

Bastard.

Regardless of my threatening gaze, he started to head the opposite way. Somehow deep down, I knew he wasn't lying.

"So just because you're not getting any action from me, you're going to run off and find someone who will?" My voice was more menacing than all the times I've talked to Jesse, but all he did was turn back to me – his usual smooth voice challenging mine.

He looked at me up and down, before meeting my eyes. "Action?"

Not responding to a rhetorical question was a good idea to me.

"You think I'm bored with you?" He started. "Is that where you're getting at?"

"It looks a lot like it," I mumbled, willing myself to not look weak – and keep staring at him. Intrepid, fearless, and somewhat bold described how I was standing before him.

He laughed – but it sounded more like a sigh. He ran a hand through his black hair, shutting his eyes for a second and then shook his head at me. "God, you're such a..."

I squinted my eyes. He didn't want to say anymore. "I'm a what?"

He shot me a look, barely tilting his head. "You're a tease, Carson."

A long stream of curse words floated around in my head, but I stalled as I tried to figure out a way to phrase them into a comeback. When the seconds started to tick by, I just went ahead and settled for the lamest retort I could muster under pressure, "You're an idiot."

"Is this you not arguing?" Jesse laughed to himself. "Because you suck at it."

"You're still an idiot."

He shrugged. "It takes one to know one."

I threw my hands up and turned around again. "I quit!"

It was simple logic to know that he was already following me, even before I thought of leaving in the first place. "If you walk away then I'll assume you love me."

I stopped.

"Well, so much for that," he added.

I turned to stare at him again, debating hard on just walking away and leaving this conversation alone. "I don't like you, Jesse. You've seen the pictures I drew of you; you know that I get annoyed just by listening to you; and being bothered by every girl that's ever dated you is starting to get on my nerves."

"So yesterday was just a waste of time?"

I sighed. "Shut up. I never said that."

"You don't even need to say it."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Just friends, Jesse. And if you can't handle that, then you shouldn't even be wasting your time talking to me."

His eyes glinted when he spoke again. "So I'm wasting my time then?"

The air stilled, I even noticed a few remaining students late for after school tutoring stopped also, and I swear the janitors in the empty classrooms peeked their heads out just to watch.

I was never so good on the spot.

Being mean was just in my nature. "Yes."

The stare he gave me was overwhelming – in ways that words couldn't even describe. "Alright." He turned quickly, and walked down the hall.

I thought he was going to leave it at that, but he made a switch in decision. He stopped in front of a girl leaning against the row of lockers, who was watching Jesse and I argue.

I was a second away from leaving, until my breathing stopped altogether.

He leaned toward her, whispering something in her ear.

No. Way.

Her eyes lit up, and met mine in shock – and then to my dismay, she smiled. Jesse leaned back enough just to look at her and smiled also. When she nodded – to whatever he must have asked – he held out his hand, and she took it.

Oh my God...

He led her away, and before he could disappear around the corner of the hallway – he glanced at me, giving off his best signature smile I've ever seen.

And then he was gone, with a girl so stupid she made me look bad.

I debated on stomping my way back to him, and punching him square in the jaw. But he really wasn't worth the trouble.

He wasn't going to quit - regardless of what I've done to him so far, ranging from the psychotic drawings of dying cartoons, ruining his car that was older than I was, and turning him down yesterday even though I liked the stupid date. Everything in his head revolved around jumping from girl to girl, treating them like toys and not caring what they thought after he left them.

I found my way to my car and gripped the steering wheel – just sitting there fuming for a while, shooting detesting glares at the main doors of the school.

I couldn't tell what I was feeling at that moment. But one thing was for certain: I was mad.

God awful mad.

And the thing was that I didn't know why.