Chapter Four

As I went to school the next day with the crew, we had already prepared ourselves for the ruckus to begin. We thought best not to let anybody in about the whole OMG- VAL-TOTALLY- PASSED- OUT- AND-KYLE- IS- BACK- NOT- TO- MENTION- A- SECRET- DRAWER- IN- MRS. WALKER’S DESK. I mean, why worry the entire society of gossip when dating and drugs are the so “it” factor in today’s discussions? But instead, when we all got out of Gracie’s mom’s Range Rover getting ready to tell people to mind their own business, Dean arrived at my side. I have no idea how he could possibly get to me so fast, and I couldn’t shrug away the strike of pleasantness that filled me. He looked totally cute. So cute. You could tell he had taken a shower this morning, and didn’t care at all what he wore. Blue T- that totally made his eyes even more blazing-, white khaki shorts, and flip flops. Men. God, how could they dress so fast and look so good? Unfair, unfair, unfair.
“Um…” Dean mumbled. “Can I have a word?”
Can you have a word? Well heck yes you may have a word with me! But who says that anymore? And yet it sounded totally mature and hot of him. Not to mention deadly and serious.
Uh oh.
“Yeah, sure.” I replied uneasy.
He didn’t even wait for an answer, he just walked off in the opposite direction from where the rest of the crew stood with a –what the heck, do you want us to come with you or do we stand here like idiots- look. I gave a weak smile and ran toward Dean, still walking. He had long strides and was walking quickly to who knows where and I basically had to run to keep up. What was up with him? Had somebody taken him last night and was this a clone? No, I’m so over exaggerating. Am I? Before we turned the corner of the school, I heard Mitchie say,
“Huh, nobody is trampling us for answers.”
I didn’t have time to think what that could have meant, whether everybody knew what had happened and didn’t want to say anything (which is totally irrational, I mean its middle school!), or they didn’t know. But no matter, once we turned the corner, Dean pinned me to the ancient wooden school wall, his hands on my shoulders shaking me madly.
“Who the hell is this Kyle Langsworth guy?” he asked; his breath in pants. His usual beautiful blue eyes were blazing cold. They looked cold and evil. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them, like if I did I would get swooped into the deep dark coldness and drown. . .
“What the hell Dean!” I exclaimed confusingly, after I got control of myself and tore my eyes off of his. I hated being touched, pushed, shook, poked, etc. It just made me so irritated and mad! Dean knew this. And Dean had never been the violent guy. His parents taught him to be a gentleman, never a cad.
Now a normal girl would have screamed her head off for help, but because I’m not normal, and I am not a disgrace toward females for being weaker and wimpier than guys, I just slapped him in the face. That’s right. I slapped Dean Parker, most popular and probably the hottest guy in the school. Not to mention he’s my best friend. Because he is. But I wasn’t thinking about that now. I was thinking how to get this creep off me. And why did he want to know who Kyle Langsworth is? He sure as heck knew! Jealous was he? Well, we will just see about that. (Although secretly I felt adored)
Dean fell backward, he looked stunned. I could see the red imprint I had left on his face. That must have hurt. But so what, I slapped him, I sure wasn’t going to back down. I felt rage going through me at top speed. As a side thought, now I knew why I didn’t get asked out a lot. I was dangerous. I smiled secretly inside my head at that, but now I was mad, and I’m sure my supposedly pretty little face looked deranged. But in a cute way.
“Don’t ever touch me like that!” I screamed at him, stamping my feet. And yeah, stamping my feet, I know. But hey, I’m a girl, not a sexist.
Dean just looked at me, bewildered and dumbstruck at what I had just done. So apparently I’m violent, and everybody knows this, yet they are surprised when I start ripping peoples’ heads off. And yet people still expect me to act like nice little innocent Val. Wow, I wonder if I’m secretly bipolar.
“Dean what is up with you?” I yelled, furious. For some reason I never blush, or get red when I’m mad. This is both good and bad. Good being because people wouldn’t know I was embarrassed, bad being because people can’t take me seriously if I’m vicious.
Dean finally snapped out of his total disbelief faze. I got madder.
“Me? What is up with you?” Punching kids in the face?!” Dean said his eyes still cold and furious.
“Well,” I said hotly, “if you could just explain your sudden assault to me, I would more than happy be off my way to go bully other kids!”
Dean looked at me. Understanding developed in his eyes. No seriously, his eyes were cold, dark, furious, and now they changed into a light, embarrassed, and worrisome pretty blue. What was up with that?
“Um. . .” Dean said, standing up from him awkward collapse. I raised my eyebrow at him and crossed my arms, hoping to have that cool -I’m-better-than-you look- going on. And yes, I can totally raise one eyebrow.
“Okay, Listen. This. . . Langsworth kid doesn’t seem. . .” He struggled for a word to say while pulling back his blond soft hair. He looked so cute. Even if he was sexually assaulting me five seconds ago. I waited patiently. “Sane.” He muttered finally, embarrassed.
My eyes widened in confusion.
“Sane?” I said.
“Yeah, listen, I know it sounds odd, but you just have to trust me.” Dean said, his eyes looking into mine, as if only our unbreakable glaze would let me see understanding. But it didn’t.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do about the whole me passing out- Kyle coming back- and the secret drawer thing does it?” I teased.
He looked at me with a thoughtfully and exasperated face.
“Yes.”
And with that he walked off. Just like that. And Dean is not the one to leave some one hanging, with their jaw opened in complete and utter confusion. It’s was if someone put an imperious curse on him. He wasn’t acting like himself. (What an understatement) First he sexually assaults me, and then he leaves me hanging. Foreshadowing, I tried to keep out the thought that if he didn’t change that mood of his somebody was going to get hurt.
I watched as he retraced our steps back and forced himself through the crowd of kids- shaking off any flirtatious grins from the girls and ‘Hey what’s up D-Dog!?’ from the guys- and went to class. No sooner after Dean went in; my friends came behind the corner with bizarre looks on their faces. They all opened their mouths to question me, but I shook my head at them.
“Later you guys. But be on your guard, I have a funny feeling about something.”
My friends looked at me in confusion, but were silenced from any pestering for the school bell rang.
As I walked to class, I had a feeling in my gut again. A warning. Well, great. Just what I need, for my gut to start worrying me in a time of dramatic crises with my friends. And possibly Kyle Langsworth.