It Doesn't Get Any Worse Then This...

"YES!" Me and my best friend, Emily, cheered once we found out that we were to sit next to each other in the new class, Content Area Reading, aka, the most boring class on the face of the Earth.

The teacher, Mrs. K, had posted a seating chart at the front of the classroom for us to go off of. We directed ourselves to our new seats and sat down, eager to begin the new note-passing trimester.

As soon as we sat down and began talking, that horrible, tall, spikey haired figure sat down in the seat next to me.

"Why did I KNOW that would happen?!" I asked Emily, hatefully.

Cal had been assigned the fourth desk in our cluster, and a friendly guy named Ruchin was assigned the other.

For those of you that do not know, Cal is my male archenemy. I have many female archenemies, but Cal is my only male enemy. He is the most annoying kid whoever walked these hallways. He's popular, tall, all the girls want him, and he's the most disrespectful guy I know. He always bothers me, and the only time he speaks to me is to tell me to shut up, and he rarely says anything else. We hate each other like Sue Sylvester and Will Schuester hate each other. Me being Sue, because I always make snarky comments about his hair, which is obvious to see that he spends more time on it in the morning then I do.

He puts his feet under my desk. I kick his legs. He moves his feet for a matter of twenty seconds, then moves them back under my desk.

"Dude, I swear to God, if you don't move your legs out from under my freaking desk," I hissed. "I will break your legs off and beat you with them."

He just grinned that charismatic grin and flipped his hair the other direction. I scowled. He had won, despite my mean and horribly hilarious comment.

And in Math today, him and I were having a conversation from our seats, which happen to be 3 rows apart from each other. I was talking to someone across the room, since we had the coolest substitute teacher E.V.E.R.

"OH MY GOD, Erin, SHUT UP." Cal said to me.
"You shut up, Cal." I snapped back.

"No one cares!" Cal snapped back, when I wasn't even talking to him.
"Yeah, well you never shut up, and no one cares what YOU have to say." I sneered.

The kids roared with laughter. I. Had. Won.

The thing about Cal is, you never know when you win, because for an outsider like myself, no matter how hard I push and no matter how snarky and clever my comebacks are, I always lose to Cal. Why? Because he's popular. THAT's why. You know you win when you get a satisfying roar of laughter from the surrounding children. I never get those, because I am an outcast. Cal gets them because he's a player and a loser. He's nothing more then gum on the sidewalk of my life. I'll be laughing the day that all his past girlfriends gang up on him and throw cupcakes at his face because of how jerkish he was to them.

And do you know WHY I'll be laughing?

Because. I. Was. Right.

This next part needs a bit of explaining. Allow me.

In Health, a few weeks ago, I was listening to Cal's conversations with his tablemate, because unfortunately, he chose the table beside mine, because we were allowed to pick our seats. I was sitting next to my friend Sarah.


To his tablemate, he was complaining about how he was single.

"Well," I added. "You don't ALWAYS need a girlfriend."
"Shut up, Erin." Cal said, in way like he was almost superior over me. "I wasn't talking to you."
"Well, I'm just saying." I said, under my breath.


And I will be RIGHT if his many past girlfriends bombard him with cupcakes. Wait, he doesn't even deserve cupcakes. Snails? Naww. Rocks? No. His girlfriends are all so skinny and limp that they probably couldn't even LIFT the rocks. Blowfish? Nope. Spikey earrings? Too easy.

I GOT IT :D

UGG BOOTS.

They all wear UGG boots every day, even when the Sun is so hot it could burn them right off their feet. All UGG brand, never off brand. I was getting so annoyed with these ridiculous boots that I even started a "Hugs Not UGGs" campaign.

ANYWAY, the day that they all bombard Cal with their precious Eskimo boots is the day that I throw back my head, laugh as hard as I can until I piss my pants, step on Cal's face with my sneakers, and watch him suffer like he watched ME suffer when I was all alone. And the day that he comes to school, crying, because he hasn't any friends, because he was a big jerk to every last one of them, is the day that he gets beat up by a tough-as-nails, hardcore, Glee-obsessed, hippie. Named Erin. And when he begs for mercy at my feet, I'll kick him over and say to the jerk. "Why not stuff it up your @%^ and get a clue." Then untie his shoelaces and walk away.

Jerk.

~Erin~