• The Genius and the Dork

    tab “‘Once upon a time…’” I racked my head for ideas, writing as I spoke softly beneath my breath, “‘…there was a rock…’ crap.”
    tab “You look hard at work. Or, are you hardly working?”
    tab I took a peek at my boyfriend who sat casually in a comfortable chair, watching. There was a teasing smirk on his lips while he mocked my incapability to be innovative.
    tab “This may be a shock to you, but not everyone is a super genius, you know.”
    tab He laughed a laugh of superiority and an Einstein high IQ. He got up from his relaxed position and strolled over to my table to see what I was writing. I tried to ignore the heat radiating from his lean and perfect body, and remember that he was reading my grade zero work.
    tab I scrambled to get my papers together and threw myself on top, to prevent him, my boyfriend who had a GPA of 4.0, from reading my amateur story with the main character being a rock.
    tab “Let me see,” he said, leaning in closer.
    tab I tried to sound strong, “No.”
    tab “Come on,” he cooed softly in my ear.
    tab “No.”
    tab “You know you want my help,” his voice was husky this time.
    tab “No.”
    tab “I can sense you caving.”
    tab “No.” My resolve was weakening.
    tab “Sit up,” he commanded.
    tab “No.” I complied reluctantly.
    tab “Now, move your arms.”
    tab “No.” I folded my hands in my lap.
    tab “Now sit back, and relax,” he took my papers.
    tab “No,” was my weak come back.
    tab Chuckling, he took the seat across from me. “‘Once upon a time’,” He started reading loud enough for me to turn red, but not loud enough for everyone in the library to hear, “‘there was a rock…’,” his voice trailed off as he searched my papers for a beginning, middle, and an end. “This is all you wrote?” he asked me. I nodded silently, too embarrassed to speak. His intelligence easily intimidated my stupidness.
    tab “So, what’s going to happen to the rock?” he asked.
    tab I shrugged.
    tab “You don’t know?”
    tab “You and I both know that I don’t know a lot of things, an example being me not knowing what will happen to the rock.”
    tab “Really?”
    tab “Do you know?” I questioned him.
    tab “No, you’re the author.”
    tab I sighed. “I’m a stupid author.”
    tab “Don’t call yourself stupid. Try creatively challenged.”
    tab I threw an eraser at him, but I missed. “Great,” I said half-heartedly, “Not only am I creatively challenged, but I also have lousy hand-eye coordination.”
    tab “It’s not your fault that you’re cross-eyed.” He said as he bent over to pick up my eraser.
    tab “I’m cross-eyed?!” I nearly shrieked, gaining the attention form my fellow library-goers.
    tab “No,” he said giving back my eraser, “I just wanted to see your reaction.” I sighed, half in relief, the other in irritation.
    tab “I don’t think I can write anything.”
    tab “If you can’t write, then why are you?”
    tab “I joined a contest.”
    tab “Why?”
    tab “Because I felt like it.”
    tab “Really?”
    tab “No.”
    tab “Then?”
    tab “Jessica joined.”
    tab He groaned in understanding, “And you joined to prove a point or because you want to win so you can rub it in her face?”
    tab “I wanna win so I can rub it in her face.”
    tab “‘Wanna’ isn’t a word.”
    tab “Whatever.”
    tab He pushed my papers back to me, “Write,” he commanded.
    tab “About what?”
    tab “The rock?”
    tab “Ugh, no. Now it’s stupid. Who’s going to read a story about a rock?”
    tab “Good point. So why don’t you write another story?”
    tab “I don’t do stories. You do stories.”
    tab “So, you want me to write you a story?”
    tab “I wouldn’t consider it writing me a story, but giving me pointers. Tell me a story as an example. Help me out. You love me don’t you?”
    tab “Oh, please. Do you have to put our relationship into the conversation?”
    tab “Yes.”
    tab “Fine.”
    tab “So, are you going to tell me a story?”
    tab “Do you have any idea how childish that sounds?”
    tab “Answer the question.”
    tab “Fine,” he ran his fingers through his hair, a story forming in the depths and complexity of his mind.

    tab I first saw her in my academic English class, and what ticked me off the most about seeing her there was the fact that she was sitting in my seat, contaminating it with her stupidity. I’d have to go and find the janitor, and ask if I can borrow disinfectant wipes from him. Cleaning my chair was not how I wanted to start my morning.
    tab I walked over, and, aware of her lack of intelligence, politely told her, “Get out.”
    tab She jumped a bit, surprised; she hadn’t noticed me coming. She looked up at me with wide eyes, questioningly.
    tab “Get out.” I repeated.
    tab “Get out of what?”
    tab “My seat.”
    tab “Oh. This is your seat?”
    tab “Yes.” Honestly, how many times did I have to tell her that she was in my seat, before it would actually get to her brain?
    tab “Oh.” She still hadn’t made a move to leave.
    tab “Aren’t you going to get out?”
    tab “No.”
    tab “What? Why?” I was losing patience with this kid.
    tab “You didn’t say ‘please’.”
    tab “Fine,” I bit my tongue to keep from swearing in the presence of a lady, “Get your stupid rump out of my seat so I can utilize my education in a manner that will be beneficial to humankind, unlike you who cannot because of your brainless build-up, please.” She looked like she understood my insult, and she was going to try to come up with a come back, but Mr.MacAulay, my homeroom English teacher, walked into class.
    tab I took the seat behind her, hoping to glare holes in the back of her head. I sat at the farthest edge of the chair, not wanted to get any other brain eating viruses on my clothes.
    tab When class ended, I was still in a bad mood.
    tab Through out the entire day, I thought of her sitting in my seat, tainting my chair with her dull aura. Absolutely no one sat in any of my seats. Maybe I was being paranoid, but that seat was mine. In all my classes, I had a specific seat at the back of every class, so that I wouldn’t have to associate with low-level nut brains. It seemed to me that everyone understood the unspoken pact; everyone except her.
    tab To bring myself comfort, I would tell myself that she would drop out of my class in a week, and that it wouldn’t be too hard to rid the diseases from my chair. She couldn’t possibly handle the intensity of an academic class with me in it. The topics that were brought up were always intricate, and Mr.MacAulay always had a unique way of making his students think outside the box. His topics were relatively straightforward to me, but for the benefit of my classmates, I learned to bite my tongue, and let them try to figure everything out.
    tab For the week I had expected her to leave, she stayed, and at most times she was very involved in all class discussions. She was actually trying to understand what was being taught, even though I knew that for a person with an intelligence level like hers she would never comprehend the lessons. But she was trying. I mentally applauded her for her efforts, but I couldn’t tell her it was all in vain, so I kept my mouth shut.
    tab I hated to admit it; this bubbly hopeful was actually starting to grow on me. That is until she decided to challenge one of my answers to a topic that I was some-what passionate about.
    tab “You can’t just decide to love someone; love has to happen to you.” She said, turning in her seat. Everyone else was working on their alternate ending on Romeo and Juliet, but I finished. The slacker in front of me had more interest on some imprudent mood rather than the grade I was sure she needs.
    tab “You believe that? Wow, then you really are stupid.”
    tab “I’m not stupid.”
    tab “You were stupid enough to think you could actually pass this class.” She looked taken back at my comment, and for the briefest second I thought I had gone too far.
    tab “Love isn’t something you can turn on or off with the push of a button.” She continued.
    tab “You’re making love a lot more complicated than you think. It’s either you love someone or you don’t.”
    tab “But sometimes you don’t know if you’re in love until the last minute.”
    tab “And that last minute is, what, death?”
    tab “No, worse.”
    tab “And what’s worse than death?” This girl didn’t make sense to me.
    tab “Losing the one you love to somebody else, when you know you could’ve had them for yourself.”
    tab “Your evidence doesn’t support your argument.”
    tab “I’m not trying to make this into an essay. I hate essays.”
    tab “But in ways, essays are arguments, and from what I’m taking in, you seem to love arguing, so you should love essays.”
    tab “I don’t like arguing. I like arguing with you.”
    tab “What? Why?”
    tab “Because I’m going to prove you wrong one day.”
    tab “Is that your life goal?”
    tab “No.”
    tab “Love can’t happen to you; you’ve got to make it happen.” I persisted.
    tab “Oh, so, we’re continuing with the topic?”
    tab “I have nothing better to do.”
    tab “What about the story?”
    tab “Finished.”
    tab “What? Really?”
    tab “Yes.”
    tab “Oh, um, how can you make love happen?”
    tab “You’ve got to search. And question.”
    tab “Question?”
    tab “Ask yourself what you want, and then look for it once you know.”
    tab “So, what are you saying? That once you’ve found your perfect person, you automatically love that person?”
    tab “I don’t see why not. You’ve found your ideal partner, so, what’s not to love?”
    tab “Is the spark there?”
    tab “Spark? Well, I can see your brain short-circuiting.”
    tab “Look, I already know you think I’m dumber than a log-”
    tab “Oh, you picked up on that?” I interrupted sarcastically.
    tab “-but you haven’t answered my question.”
    tab “Does the spark matter? If you’ve found perfection, wouldn’t you take it?”
    tab “To be my lover when there’s nothing? No, I wouldn’t.”
    tab The bell rang before I could counter, and she turned back around to collect her thing, thus signifying that our conversation was over.
    tab She stayed in my class for the semester. She somehow managed to stay on top of her work, and come up with discussion worthy subjects. We had gotten into many more disputes, many of which the intensity of them was increasing steadily. In the same semester, some new kid shows up and plants himself right beside her. The kid, Dylan something, was either just as dumb as her, or dumber. A match made in heaven. Wonderful.
    tab “Hey,” he said on his first day to her, “I’m Dylan.” He held out a hand for her to shake.
    tab I felt a reflex in my hand to grab hers and prevent her from touching his. And then, the very thought of us having skin to skin contact excited me. I shook my head, as if that could rid me of such an imprudent thought. Why would I want all her stupid germs on me?
    tab Everything suddenly went slow motion for me, as if the earth had slowed down just for me to witness the possibility of her falling for him. But why did I care? He could have her. She was absolutely far from my idea of a perfect woman. She wasn’t smart or athletic, she wasn’t even that pretty! But to just sit and watch her, that idiot, converse with someone else other than me, made me feel an emotion I had never experienced.
    tab Dylan was ugly. Pimply-faced and flabby, did she honestly go for guys like this? Would I have to lower myself to such an image to get her to want me? But that’s stupid, why would I want her to want me? I could have any girl I wanted; a simple compliment and a few moments of attention, and I’d have her in the palm of my hand. I knew all the techniques of getting a girl.
    tab She smiled at him as her hand slid into his sweaty palm, and I lost control of myself. It was so incredibly hard to resist smashing a desk over Dylan’ head, and since I didn’t want to be thrown into jail for manslaughter, I rose swiftly from my seat and headed for the door. I felt my classmates’ shocked eyes on me; they noticed my unusual behavior, and I was certain that rumors would be flying by second period class. But I didn’t care. I just had to be out of that class.
    tab I don’t know where I went. I remember a lot of doors and hallways, and I was suddenly standing by a window, looking out to the snow on the ground. Despite all the layers I was wearing, I felt cold and empty. Even with all the knowledge in the world, I would never understand how I felt.
    tab “Hey.” I recognized that voice.
    tab I turned around quickly to find that stupid, stupid girl behind me. Did she follow me? Was she worried? I turned away from her, embarrassed about my notable performance.
    tab “Go away.”
    tab “No.” her voice was firm.
    tab “Leave me alone.”
    tab “I can’t.”
    tab “Why not?”
    tab “Because I’m worried about you.”
    tab “Why?”
    tab “Because you just went up and left the class for no reason, and Mr.MacAulay sent me to look for you. And besides, can’t a friend be worried about a friend?”
    tab “We’re friends?” I spat. I couldn’t stand to just think that would be it between us.
    tab “Aren’t we?”
    tab “I guess.”
    tab “Let’s go back to class.”
    tab “You were right. Love can’t be turned on or off”
    tab “What? I don’t understand.” She didn’t remember our conversation.
    tab “Good. Neither do I.” I turned back to face her, trying to comprehend what was wrong with me, what had changed, what she did, but I had no answer.
    tab I slid my hand into hers, the hand that didn’t touch Dylan, and dragged her back to class with me.

    tab “Oh, gosh, that was about us wasn’t it?” I looked at our joined hands, then to him. He nodded, “Did you like the story?”
    tab “Loved it,” I smiled at him, then I realized something vital, “You were jealous of Dylan?!”
    tab His head met the table, “For some reason, I think I was.”
    tab I burst out laughing, “You thought I would go for someone like that?”
    tab “Wouldn’t you? I mean, you were smiling and giggling and all that.”
    tab “Geez, I was just trying to be nice!”
    tab “So, you wouldn’t have gone for him?”
    tab “No! Ew, no! You have horrible taste in men!” I gagged, hoping to lighten the suddenly heavy mood.
    tab He smiled, and stroked my cheek, instantly turning it red. His smile grew into a grin, “So, did my story help you at all?”
    tab I broke out of my naughty day-dream at the sound of his voice and smiled back, “Yeah, it did, thanks a lot.” I reluctantly pulled away from him and began writing, “‘Once upon a time, there was a rock….’”