I decided to try my hand at a bit of writing. Beware, there's more strong language than one of an0ns posts.
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He stared at the equation. A simple trigonometric equation. So why did it seem so hard?
His pencil seemed to take eons to move. Left. Right. A dull thud following each impact on the chipped wooden desk.
Maybe it was her. Her, her, her. Why couldn't he ever stop thinking about her? She was a *****, that's what she was. A stupid *****. All she did was blow him off. No, I have to take the dog out to walk. That's what you're worth. Less than a walk with my dog.
Or maybe he'd heard wrong. She'd denied it afterword. She said that's not what she said. Not at all. But she hadn't said what she'd actually said. Maybe she'd been lying. But then he hadn't asked. And why should she offer anything to him? He was pathetic. Worthless. She could treat him however she chose. Why should anyone care? They didn't. After all, she was so popular.
But maybe she was lying. It made sense. Every time he wanted to talk with her, be with her, she blew him off. Then she'd ask him out. Why did she do it? She didn't hate him. She just...didn't care.
Left. Right.
So why did he take this crap from her. It was stupid, dumb. She obviously didn't give a damn about what happened to him, or how he felt, or whatever. That's what she said everytime he tried to talk to her. Whatever. In that slicing, biting tone.
But so what. Maybe she really didn't care. Maybe she was just expressing her opinion. Why should he complain then? She wasn't intentionally being rude. Just telling him, she didn't care. She didn't care about what he had to say, didn't like his jokes.
Except she did. Sometimes she laughed.
Sine. Cosine. Solve the side.
What the hell. Why was he thinking about this now, in the middle of a freaking math test? It was ****ing dumb, that's what it was. ****ing dumb. ****ing dumb how she treated him. ****ing dumb how he just stood there and took it. Stood there, like some sort of passive retard, incapable of talking with her at her level, constantly being forced to listen to her blow him off, turn his polite attempts at conversation into a pathetic, dependant attempt to gain some measure of self esteem. Why the hell did he put up with it? What the **** was she thinking? Damn her. Why not just go, right now, walk over to her class, tell her exactly how he felt. Then never talk to her again.
Because everyone would wonder what the hell his problem was. They'd look at him. Stare at him. Like that retard, that retard he tried not to be. Socially inept. Of course she didn't care. Of course it didn't matter, whether she really had to walk her dog. She'd deny it and everyone would believe her. Everyone. Because she was social, and he was not, and that's why she could blow him off. Everyone would side with her, maybe not because they agreed with her. But because she was fun to be with. He was stupid. Dumb. Caught up in his own problems. Who wanted to be around him? Obviously no one. That's why they didn't talk to him.
Square root of 7 squared...what was that? Did they go together, form one whole number? That would be nice. He liked that. It made them easy to work with. Yeah. seven. Seven plus...
Dammit! She had to be lying. Why not go walk the dog some other time. Exactly. It only took her half an hour, she'd said that. He knew it. So why hadn't he thought of it?
Right, that was it. It got dark. At 7. And she couldn't go out after dark, she shouldn't, it would be dangerous. She always talked about the gangs that hung around. But why had he never seen them or heard of them? Maybe she just heard them better. She was much more experienced at that.
Now back to the math equation. Four. That was it, four. Four squared...what was that? Sixteen.
What the ****! What the **** was he thinking? She could've taken him on the walk with her. What the hell, it would've been safer too! She was ****ing ignoring him again, that's what. Dammit, why did he let her do it? He wouldn't again. Never. The next time she ****ing did it to him, he would blow the ***** off, just like she did to him. Every. Single. Time. Damn her. Damn her for acting so superior. Like she could blow him off at will and get away with it. He'd show her. The next time, she'd be surprised. He'd show her he could ignore her just as well as him.
Sixteen plus seven...twenty-three. Square it. No, square root it. So simple. So easy. On to the next problem...find the angle.
Dammit. He was losing it, becoming less angry, more accepting. Couldn't let that happen. But how could he stop? He could face his fears. Walk over to her class right now. But no, he was already too calm. The anger was gone. After all, what could he do that mattered?
With a quiet, mental, sigh, he moved on to the next problem. And the rest of the class continued on, never suspecting what had just happened.
