This is a Love Story - Part 2

I didn't see him the rest of the day, and I instantly jumped to the conclusion that he had left. I had my doubts after such a thought, but then again, he did blatantly state his lack of care for anything school related, so I had no reason to be surprised if that was the case. Still, I couldn't help but worry just an inch. Just what type of trouble do those kind of people get into? Certainly a boy like him gets into all sorts of problems, even life threatening, I suppose.

Sighing lightly, I shut my locker, nearly dying of a heart attack at the sight before me.

It was Dasher.

I must have gasped pretty loudly, because he gave me a strange look. Good God, how long was he standing there? It took a while for either one of us to say anything, but luckily for me, he spoke first.

"I just realized I need the credit for this assignment if I want to pass this stupid class." He said. I was glad he seemed in a slightly more calm mood, so I made sure to keep my dumb comments in check.

"Oh," I said, pushing my thick, black glasses further up the bridge of my nose. "Okay." Reaching into my book bag, I pulled out the worksheet he had abandoned back in class and handed it to him. I thanked myself for remembering to take it with me. "I finished mine in class, but if you need help with yours I can-"

"I don't need your help," His fingers yanked the paper out of my hand, nearly ripping it. "I can finish it myself." Then he turned on his heel, leaving me standing there dumbly. I honestly didn't understand why he hated me so much. We barely knew each other's names.

I inhaled through my nose and out through my mouth, trying to push the feeling of sadness and a hint of anger off of my shelf of feelings. If there was anything I hated, it was not knowing the reasons why.

***

"Mom, I'm home!" I called when I stepped into the house. I could hear a faint voice coming from the living room as I let my bag hit the floor with a soft thud. Making my way towards the only sound in the house, I found my mother pacing the floors, one hand rubbing her forehead anxiously and the other clutching the house phone to her ear.

"No, no, no! You don't understand." She was saying. "I was told the earliest rental could be given to us that Saturday. Now you're telling me the ballroom is occupied for that date?!" She paused, and you could hear a high pitched voice arguing on the other end of the line. "Look, we spent more than two hundred dollars to have this party at your ballroom next Saturday, and we don't plan on making any changes. So, unless you find a way to make that happen, I'm going to have to have a nice long talk with your boss on how disorganized your service is. Thank you, goodbye." And she hung up, pressing the end call button violently.

"Well, someone's having a good day." I laughed a little, and mom sighed.

"Hi, honey." She smiled weakly.

"Something wrong with the wedding party?" I asked, walking into the kitchen to snatch an apple from the bowl on the counter.

"Oh, just about everything."

I walked back to the living room. The couch made a squishing noise as she plopped down on the cushion. "Your sister might be having her party at a moose lodge by the looks of it." I took a bite of my apple, remembering my sister's wedding coming up.

She was getting married to a handsome - not to mention rich - surgeon. I knew him, since they were good friends in high school, and they went to college together. He was a nice, well put together guy, so I had no problem with him stealing away my sister. If he made her happy, mom, dad, and I were happy as well.

"So, how was school?" Mom asked. The apple in my mouth suddenly tasted sour. School was one thing I didn't feel like discussing.

"Awful."

Her dark eyes flickered towards me. "Awful? I've never heard that answer from you. What's wrong?"

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"Is it that bad?"

"Kinda." I replied. She pat the spot next to her on the couch and I sat down.

"What's going on, Audrey?" She was genuinely concerned, and how could she not be? I was an open book after all, easy to read and never doubted. Everything you needed to know was written smack dab on my forehead, so I found no point in lying.

"Well, you see, there's this boy in my statistics class-" I was cut off for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

"A boy?" Her face lit up at the mention of the word 'boy', probably since it'd been the first time I'd ever talked about one. "Is he cute? Do you like him? Does he like you?" It was hard to stop the river of questions from flowing from her mouth.

"What? Mom, no. You're way off.

 Her mood died down a bit. "Then what-" It was my turn to cut someone short.

"Mom, this boy hates me." It came out point blank, no stutters or hesitations. Mom gave me a rare look - a doubtful one.

"Oh, come on," She nearly laughed. "Hate is a pretty strong word."

"Well, he does, and he's made it quite obvious."

"And tell me," She leaned her elbow on the back cushion and rested her head in her hand. "What makes you think this boy... dislikes you?" Oh, the list of reasons could run on for miles, but I stuck to telling her the main ones.

"So?" She said when I was finished. "You made an almost inarguable point during that survey. Maybe you embarrassed him with your smarty pants." She poked my arm and I groaned.

"But you weren't there! You should have heard the way he spoke to me. And after school when he magically appeared at my locker and asked - no - demanded for his paper, he snatched it right out of my hand. Snatched it!" By this point, mom was nearly choking on her own laughter. My face grew hot, not because I was embarrassed, but because she didn't even seem to be listening.

"It's not funny!" I whined, slamming my half eaten apple down on the coffee table.

"But it is," She tried catching her breath. "Just a little bit." Once she had finally calmed down, I raised an eyebrow at her. "Ah, loosen up, honey. Have you ever thought that maybe you're just reading too far into this?"

"Too far into this?" I repeated. "Mom, the facts are there. I've never seen him treat anyone else that way unless they tripped him in the hallways or something."

"You said he had been having problems with the teachers as well, right?" I paused before responding, not sure what significance this had in our conversation.

"Well, yeah. He's failing a lot of his classes. And last year when I did library duty, I would see him there almost every other day serving detention. Mostly for fights and stuff like that."

"And it's the aggressive ones that usually have a rough time at home." I raised my eyebrow once again, not comprehending. Mom elaborated. "Audrey, I don't think you should take his actions personally."

"Why else would he be so inconsiderate? Especially to me, someone who barely knows him."

"People who have problems at home or with someone else like to make themselves feel better by taking out their anger on others. It's a pretty poor way of solving emotional issues in my opinion, but you'd be surprised to find that it does help certain kinds of people." I considered that for a moment.

"So... he's being a rude jerk to me because of something someone else did?" I asked. It sounded ridiculous to me.

"I'm not one to assume things, and I don't know this boy, but there's a big possibility that his anger has nothing to do with you." I'll admit, it did make sense. I had barely spoken to this boy and he knew nothing about me, there was no way he could hate me that easily.

"Then what do I do?" Mom thought for a bit.

"I'd say it's best just to ignore him. Though I know that's hard for you to do, so if it bothers you that much, then I suppose you can try to level with him. Just kindly let him know that you're not going to tolerate his behavior and that he shouldn't be upset with you for something you didn't cause. That is, of course, if there is something else behind his cruel temper." Thinking about how that would play out made me nervous.

I bit my lip, my eyes wandering to the slowly wilting fruit I hadn't had the appetite for on the table. Dasher had anger issues to begin with, that much was clear, and I doubt it'd be a good idea for someone like me to confront him about it. But even so, I wasn't just going to sit there and take the beating. Dasher Jackson would just have to get over himself, because I was a lot of things, but I was no push over.