I Don’t Like You - Chapter 11

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Burned

Just blow out the candles
Oh little boy, when will you learn?
You don't play with fire
Unless you wanna get burned
Wanna get burned

The brawl in the hall was the top subject from a lot of mouths. Some embellishments were made. I did not know how to perform a shoryuken and Anthony did not pin me against the wall only for me to vault over him. I got a few glares and a few asking why I didn’t try out for wrestling, but I waved them off.

“Hey, Joanna,”
I turned to see Steven Lansing standing by my side.
“Hey, Steve,” I replied as I walked to my next class.
“Did you want to go to Winterfest with me?”
I didn’t really know Steve. I knew of him: he played Trumpet in band, was on the basketball team, and he was known as a charmer to almost every girl in the school. He also had a short temper when things didn’t go his way, so for all of his good qualities, they were all pushed out the window when things got heated. Knowing that, I decided to let him down gently.
“I’m flattered, Steve, I really am, but I’m not into dances.”
“Is there anything I could do to change your mind?”
If I didn’t know that a few of his dates ended in yelling and screaming I would have accepted his invite in s split second.
“How about I give you some time? No pressure.”
I agreed to that as it was highly likely he’d find someone who was just as narcissistic or someone who loved to deal with the emotionally over-challenged.
Steve wave goodbye and then stopped as I walked into a classroom.

I thought about what Frank had said earlier that day and if Steve Lansing was my only choice for Winterfest, then I’d stay home and read a book. I knew better than to assume just because I was wearing a dress and gussied up a bit that everyone would be throwing themselves at my feet. Maybe I wanted to go, but not as the last person picked out of the line-up, not as a “pity choice” and at that time, I considered any person who just wanted to go to a dance as just that. I didn’t want an emotional stranger in my personal space, pretending we knew how to dance, and worrying if they’ll want more from me than I was willing to give.

I bit my lip as that stupid Anthony had robbed me of my trust in others. I could have still been a wallflower, but I would be one who was not afraid to be who she was. Frills, bows, those shoes that cost an arm and a leg—I could have come to school being proud of myself. Instead, I went to wearing only jeans, a few blouses and other shirts hidden behind flannels or my jacket. I never fought anyone while wearing what could be considered teenage sparring gear, but on the day, I decided to wear a dress I’m involved in a brawl. Stupid Anthony.

“Joanna,”
I looked up to see Zach Newcomb, who sat in the seat in front of me, turned to look at me. We didn’t talk, even if he wanted to know an answer to a question. He would shout to someone in the back before asking me. He was one of the guys in the school who remembered what happened long ago and would at me in disgust. I don’t think he ever said anything about me to anyone, but his body language gave off strong vibes that he didn’t like me. There were a few times I wanted to know how I pissed him off because if memory serves, I was the one who embarrassed and humiliated, not him.
“Can I ask you a question?”
I blinked at him as I contemplated exactly what he was going to ask me. Was he going to comment about the dress? Was he going to make some witty observation about my bust size? Or was he simply going to ask why I still breathing? Again, no one ever said anything to my face, but I thought that if one person—other than Anthony—would be a problem for me, it would be Zach Newcomb.
“Did Steve talk to you?”
“About what?”
“Winterfest.”
“Yes, he did,” I replied and quickly prayed he would not ask ‘did you say yes’.
“Did you say yes?”
“I did not. I don’t like dances.” I turned back to my textbook as the teacher walked into the room.
“How about going with me? We can talk about it after class.”
Zach turned to face forward, leaving me with an incredulous look on my face.

I caught up with Frank and April as they walked out of the school on their way to slack to the small store down the street to get lunch.
“Did you send Steve and Zach, Frank?”
“I did not, why?”
“Because they asked me to Winterfest.”
“Both of them?” April asked as she visibly squeezed Frank’s hand.
“Yes.”
“What did you say?” Frank asked as he looked to April and smiled.
“I declined both of them. Zach took a little more…explaining than Steve did.”
“Probably good thing you did.”
“Okay, so stating that, you didn’t know anything about them?”
“They were not the proverbial guy I had on my list.”
I glared at Frank and then looked toward. “Proverbial?”
“I’m still working on it.”
“Don’t. Just stop at whatever you were thinking about. I’m not going to go.”
Frank and April stopped.
“You’re seriously not going to go if I find the right guy.”
“Unless you have Mark Wahlberg’s number on speed dial, then no, I’ll just stay home and play a few games on a PlayStation I bought last week.
“Oh yeah, can you pay me five dollars towards that game you bought?”
“Yeah, I’ll pay it all, I forgot.” I reached into my purse, pulled out a twenty, and haded it to Frank. Our eyes locked and he mouthed “thank you.”
“I’ll head back.”
“Jo, did you want anything from the store?”
I shook my head and walked back to the high school. I had no good reason to accompany them to the store, only to irritate April. I didn’t like her, and I suspected she did not like me due to my friendship with her boyfriend—one that was deeper and longer than the two relationships she apparently had with Frank and the other guy in Medical Lake. I still felt bad for not talking about it but I knew it would end badly no matter what I said.

Anthony stood on the side of the hallway, talking with others when I walked into school. The conversation stopped for a second as everyone in the group, sans Anthony, glanced at me.
“Whatever,” I thought to myself as I walked past them and walked to soda machine. I had a dollar left to get a Dr Pepper as my sole form of nourishment for the day. The can clacked and clunked as it hit the bottom of the machine. I made an attempt to pick up the drink but was interrupted by a hand that reached in and grabbed it. I looked up to see Steve holding onto the can with Zach standing next to him.
“Do you want to back?” Steve asked as he took a few steps back from the main hall,
“You can have it,” I replied, as I wasn’t going to play his game.
“Too good for us, are you, eh?”
“No, it’s called I wouldn’t go anywhere with either one of you. You’re a narcissist,” I pointed at Steve and then at Zach, “and you’ve always been creepy.”
Steve shook the can and then opened it. The soda sprayed everywhere.
“Really?” I yelled as I felt the sticky liquid all over my skin.
“Yeah, fake bitch,” Zach retorted as he grabbed my arm. “Think some dress makes you a girl?”
“I don’t need to prove anything to you.”
“Let’s check, Zach,” Steve nodded to Zach, and he pulled my arms back. Steve ripped the straps from the dress and ripped it further. He stopped for a brief moment as the fabric fell and I was exposed.
“Plastic?” Zach asked.
Steve nodded as he reached out and rubbed his hand on my left side.
“No feeling at all,” Steve replied.
“Let me go and you’ll feel something!” I yelled.
Zach let go of my arms but then dug knee into my leg so I couldn’t recover in time to avoid a punch to the chest and face, courtesy of Steve.

There were a few passersby who had stopped in their tracks at what was happening. Several girls screamed and a few guys shied their eyes or looked like someone had punched them instead. No one said anything to stop them as they continued to pummel on me. I could have taken them on, Bushido style, but two against one wasn’t fair.
“Let her go, God dammit!” Anthony roared as he ran down the hall.
Steve and Zach dropped me to the floor and once again, my dress was ripped off me.
I didn’t want to look at Anthony, nor did I want to cover myself up, as the shock of that day had come up and I started hyper-ventilating.
“I am going to kick both of your asses!” Anthony hissed as Steve and Zach ran off. “Joanna, look at me, please.” Anthony kneeled down, took off his jacket and laid it over me.
“Go and get help now!”
I wanted to say ‘thank you’ to Anthony but I was not in any physical shape to try.
“Joanna, I need you to look at me. Track my index finger, okay?”
I nodded but then closed my eyes.

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Comments

Well, Shit!

Unexpected help from Frank, but still...

Nice change in the header picture. Seriously cute,

Jill Jens's picture

She is clearly attracting a lot of attention after her sister’s makeover. Maybe this was just a setup, or maybe the average boys just can’t take a rejection. Especially from a tranny. Enter Lancelot stage left.
I see a happy ending for our heroine.
Nice story. Thanks Aylesea.

Jill