. . .


"Why do you hate me?" I mumble out of nowhere.

Trunks comes to an abrupt stop, and my forehead smashes into the back of his cotton sweater, vaguely feeling his back muscles tense up at the unexpected contact.

"You're the dumbest girl on this planet. Of course I don't hate you." Trunks snarls, not looking back at me. It isn't often that we bump into each other on our way home. We usually just ignore each other's presence and go our separate ways at the intersection, never speaking a word to each other.

But today is not like most other days.

"I know you hate me." I insist, struggling to keep my voice steady. Trunks still doesn't look back to give me his full attention. He's focused on the red light ahead of us, the crosswalk sign beeping as it counts down the seconds until the light turns green again "I'm graduating high school tomorrow…"

"Congratulations," Trunks says, not sounding impressed at all.

"Thanks. My mom forced me to invite you, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't come to the ceremony."

Trunks clicks his tongue." Wasn't planning on it."

"Good," I sniff, trying not to let my hurt show in my voice." Anyway, before I graduate and study abroad and generally have a happier life without you in it, I think I deserve to know why you had that punk in class do this to me!"

My anger gets the better of me, and I end up shouting the last half of that sentence.

Interested to see what this is, the almighty king of jerks(Trunks) turns and faces me.

I glare into his humored blue eyes, imagining scenarios of me slapping and punching his face in while he screams for mercy.

Man, I wish I was stronger than him!

Trunks covers his mouth to keep himself from laughing. "What makes you think I did that?"

In biology class, someone put black ink on the eye piece of the microscope, so after I looked through the eyepiece it left a fat black ring around my eye. All day people were pointing and laughing at me! Sure, it could've been anybody in my high school, but I knew it was Trunks. One, because he's made a habit of pulling pranks on me every week, I had witnesses and video tape surveillance to prove it, but after a few confrontations my witnesses stopped talking and the surveillance footage magically disappeared.

Trunks is wealthy and can easily pay off students and teachers to keep his pranks a secret from me. I'm ninety-nine percent sure this is what he did.

The second reason I know it was Trunks instead of someone else is because. . .

"The ink won't come off!" I groan, licking my finger and dabbing around my eye with saliva to prove my point." I've tried soap, spit and alcohol! Nothing works."

Trunks doesn't have the self control to deny it this time, since he freely begins to laugh.

I push him, breaking my personal no-contact rule." It's not funny! This is Capsule Corp-quality ink, it'd be a miracle if I get this stuff off my face by tomorrow I have to deliver a speech to the entire school, Trunks! You better help me or else I will. . .I will…"

Trunks smirks, knowing there's nothing I can do to him. I've told my parents countless times Trunks was bullying me, but nobody, not even Goten, believed me! He gives everyone the fake smile and politeness act, where as he gives me mischievous grins and bratty remarks and humiliating ordeals.

"If you don't help me I'll never speak to you again!" I scream.

His smile vanishes.

Did that work? I look up at him hopefully.

Without saying anything he walks away from me and crosses the street. The light has turned green. This is the usual part of our walk when we go our separate ways.

I pick up a coin by my feet and throw it at his head. He stops but doesn't turn to face me. Seriously, does the guy hate me too much to even look in my direction?

"I hate you" I sneer." I can't believe I was stupid enough to think we were still friends after everything you've put me through! I hate you Trunks Briefs! You're the worst person in the world and I'm glad I wont have to see your face ever again! " I turn in the opposite direction and bolt home.

I don't look back.

`+. + . +. + .

"Can you please pass the salt?" I ask, stabbing the chicken on my plate with a fork.

"Sure." Papa says, not looking up from the paper he's grading.

I wonder if his students ever complain about the food stains on their papers?

The salt doesn't make the chicken taste any better. I continue stabbing my chicken, hoping one of my parents will look up from their work and notice the black ink ring around my eye. Papa isn't bothered by the clanging noise my fork is making. I could be dancing on the table dressed as a clown and he still wouldn't notice me! Mama isn't that simple, the tiniest things I do she notices, and disapproves of.

Mama slams her laptop shut, meaning to scold me for being annoying but frowns." What happened to your eye?"

Papa looks up from his paper.

I clear my throat." Trunks put ink on the eye piece of my microscope in biology class today."

My parents give each other the Pan's being ridiculous, again look.

I lean back in my chair and groan." You guys never believe me. Trunks isn't the nice guy you think he is!"

"Be reasonable Pan. Trunks doesn't go to your school, how could he have done it?" Papa says, waiting patiently for me to give an answer to this problem.

"He must pay someone to do it." I counter, knowing this isn't the answer Papa wanted. He expected me to say something like 'you're right.' or ' I don't know.' In the beginning, I didn't know. How did Trunks find the time to stuff porn magazines into my locker without anyone seeing? It was horrible. I opened my locker and a flood of Playboys spilled out and scattered into the hall all around me.

"Do you have any evidence that would prove Trunks is guilty of your allegations?" Mama asks, sounding like the criminal defense lawyer she is.

"No." I sigh.

"Then how do you know it was him?" Mama opens her laptop and Papa continues grading his papers. In their eyes, I'm just a child with a weird obsession of blaming everything wrong in my life on one person- - Trunks.

"May I be excused? I don't feel very hungry." And I'm sick of looking at your faces.

Mama nods." Uh-huh. Just remember to take out the trash before you go to bed."

"Can't I do it tomorrow?" I groan.

"You said that yesterday Pan. Today is tomorrow."

"But Mom." I plea." I'm graduating tomorrow! I have to go to bed early if I'm going to make it to my hair appointment in the morning. Plus I have to find someone to get this stupid ring off my face! I can't give a serious speech on the most important day of my life looking like the Target dog!"

"Fine. Fine." Mama waves me away, which is her polite way of telling me to shut up and be quiet when she's working. If it wasn't for the over emotional tones I use, I don't think she'd ever know what I'm talking about. Nobody listens to me.

"Tomorrow never comes." Papa quotes before I close my bedroom door.

. + . + . + . + .