Teenage Dirtbag - Chapter 1

by Granate, 2001

Disclaimer: I own Gundam Wing. But I'm also certifiably insane, so don't expect that claim to hold up in court.

Relena Peacecraft. Re-le-na. Three gentle movements of lips and tongue. Should I even try to use words to describe her? Only one thing comes to mind: beautiful beautiful beautiful… Guh, that’s all I can think when I see her. I’ve been in accelerated classes since middle school, but that’s what my vocabulary is reduced to when she’s around. So, maybe it’s a good thing I never ever get to talk to her. The closest I get is staring at the back of her head in lit class. I really should stop doing that, though. You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to touch that honey-colored hair. God I can smell it. So close… And sometimes she flips it over her shoulder and it spills onto my desk like spun gold. Beautiful beautiful beautiful.

But there are three insurmountable chasms (besides this desk) separating me from this nymph of my dreams. The first is social status. Lets be honest here folks. Anybody who remembers high school as a good time is obviously kidding themselves and probably repressing the whole damn four years. Now I’ll be honest with you: I am a geek. Likeable, funny, smart, but a geek none the less. I like sci-fi, computers, junk food, books, comics, cars, and heavy metal. I’m a natural klutz and I seem to be stuck in some sort of extended awkward stage. Plus, I think my eyes weird people out. I always get asked if I wear colored contacts. Oh, and then there’s my most prized possession and the biggest pain in my ass: my hair. I hate cutting it. Have since I was little. Don’t know why. It reaches the middle of my back now when it’s down, but I usually keep it in a braid to keep it out of the way. Believe me, its been a constant source of teasing since grade school. But I’ve had it so long, I don’t know what I’d do with out it. I have thus far escaped major harassment because of my talent for joking and brushing insults off. Like I said, funny and talkative. I’m not hated, I’m usually just ignored by the ‘cool’ people. And that suits me just fine, thank you very much. I don’t give a shit, I just want to get my damn diploma in two months and get the hell out of here.

Ok, we’ve established that I’m the biggest of my problems, but number two is right up there: her asshole boyfriend. Why do the pretty ones always come with this ubiquitous little accessory? Heero Yuy. What a dick. He thinks he’s such a bad-ass. Ok, he really is such a bad-ass. He moved here when we were fifteen, and I swear he didn’t talk to anyone for the first two years. I remember all the girls swooning though. How annoying. What is it about the dangerous guys? I just don’t get. He comes to school drunk or high, smokes in the parking lot, and has a permanent seat reservation in detention. Remind me again why that’s attractive? He never talks in class, never talks at all really, skips constantly, never does his homework. I’m surprised he hasn’t failed out yet. I’m wondering what nerd he has taking his tests for him. He doesn’t laugh or smile, save for snickering at you if you do something stupid, or sneering at all the other guys when Relena’s got her hands all over him.

I think everyone was scared of him up until last year when out of the blue, he started dating Relena Peacecraft and suddenly he’s soooo cool. He still hates everyone though. It’s actually kind of funny. You gotta have a little respect for someone who refuses to play the popularity game. Even the jocks walk on egg shells around him, like if he glares at you long enough you’ll fall over dead or something. I just stay out of the way, and it’s working so far, he doesn’t even know who I am despite the fact that he lives two streets over. Besides, he’d probably kick my ass if he knew I had a major crush on his girlfriend. Then again, what kind of threat am I? I really hope he never finds out, because I don’t want to hear him laugh that hard.

The third problem is the hordes of other men in line if they were to ever break up. Even if she weren’t with that jerk, she’d just be with a different jerk. I wouldn’t even be on the radar screen. Relena, however, does know who I am. We worked on a project together for class last year. God, I love it when teachers assign partners. She was very busy with student government and other activities, so I did most of the work, but I really impressed her, we got an A. I still get a smile and a ‘hi’ out of her now and then.

The bell rings and my spell is broken as the subject of my musings stands to leave. I try to catch her eye as she slips her bag over her shoulder but she doesn’t see me. She probably has a million things on her mind, she’s very deep you know. I get up and cram my notebook into my bag, and swear under my breath as I remember that I have detention. Shit, why can’t I just get to class on time? Too many tardies.

On the way to the library, I pass the main doorway. Everyone else is filing out for the day. I catch a glimpse of Relena approaching Heero. She leans up and gives him a kiss on the cheek. It is the sweetest thing I’ve seen all day, her lashes flutter shut and her lips pucker perfectly. And that bastard has the gall to look bored. Then he drapes his arm around her neck and leads her outside. Ugh, disgusting. It’s such a deliberate move. Like saying to all the guys in the vicinity, ‘I have her and you losers never will.’ Asshole.

I get to the library and check in for detention. The place attracts quite a crowd at my school, but I find an empty table, make myself comfortable, and take out my homework. It’s really the only thing there is to do for the three hours. Just when I think I might get the table to myself, guess who swaggers in fifteen minutes late?

Note: The Re-le-na is a Nabakov tribute! Lo-li-ta!