Every Boy's Got One Ch 3

THE TRAVEL JOURNAL OF SAM MANSON

6/11/06, 5:47 PM

Danny Fenton is a freak. How Tucker, the nice geek who talks endlessly and is always cheerful ever became friends with a jerk like that is beyond me.

That’s really all I can say on the matter.

S2

“Excuse me,” I said as politely as I could, “could you please move your elbow?”

Well, as polite as someone could be when he or she was glaring daggers through someone.

I can’t believe Val even considered helping me hook up with him. Did Val ever even meet him?

He was pretty well known, actually, which is probably why Tuck and Val wanted to surprise me. I actually bought his book—I was in a rush, and I saw the cover, the black sky coated in thick fog with the barest hint of starlight peeking through. It reminded me of what purgatory must look like, so I grabbed the book and planned to read it during the wait for my internship interview.

Except it was the. Most. Boring. Book. Ever. Seriously. There was no murder mystery, no dark love triangle, no magic or anything! It was about space, and it ranted on and on about stars and black holes and stuff. I almost fell asleep.

No wait. I did. I only woke up when they shrieked my name out in the waiting room and called for Samantha Manson to come and do her interview.

All in all, he really shouldn’t act like he’s all that just because he wrote a freaking book. It wasn’t like it was a good one, or anything.

“Why don’t you move!” he shot back at me. What an asshole! I had the unfortunate luck to be seated next to him. I was on the aisle and he was next to me, and he resented the fact that I refused to trade places. Thus he is practically slouching over me. Has he ever heard of breathing room?

“What the hell is your problem, Danny?” I flipped my short hair over my shoulders. “All I’m asking for is a little space so I can actually be comfortable. It’s not that hard!”

“My name,” he said, ignoring my request, “is Dan.”

“Tucker and Val call you Danny,” I rolled my eyes. Geez, this guy was so full of it. He was totally flirting with the flight attendant; acting like his was God’s gift to women. And the flight attendant flirted back! I was horrified. Can’t she tell that he is a cocky, irritating, rude, son of bitch who deserves to be shunned! What was her problem! Oh, sure, he’s hot, so let’s flirt with him! Add more helium to his ego!

This is why we have so many jerks in society, because women tolerate them and make it seem like it’s all right! We self respecting women in society need to fight back! BOYCOTT THE DANNY FENTONS OF SOCIETY!!

“Only Tuck is allowed to call me Danny. I can’t get mad at Val because Tucker will immolate anyone who dares insult his fair princess. But you, or anyone else, are not allowed to.”

“Why? Because Danny isn’t cool enough?” I said sardonically.

He sighed, and talked slowly like he was talking to a 5 year old who can’t understand basic English. “It’s none of your concern.”

“I’ll call you whatever I want to,” I growled flippantly. “I don’t give a damn what you think, and I don’t feel like calling you Dan.”

Actually, I was only going to call him Danny because it bothered him so much. It was amusing to piss him off. Heaven knows he’s pissed me off plenty of times already, and we’ve only spoken for, what, less than an hour?

“Fine, Sammy,” he said, emphasizing Sammy.

I kicked him in the shin. Hard.

“WHAT THE FRICK!” he yelled. Except like earlier, he didn’t say frick. The mothers in the plane all turned around and looked at the both of us like we were insane, while the flight attendant looked at Danny with surprise and said in a shocked tone, “Sir, if you would mind keeping your profanity down—“

“Yeah, Danny,” I said with a smirk. “We’re in a public place. Be a little more mature and don’t cuss in front of small children.”

Danny’s face grew increasingly red; like he did earlier when he didn’t get the plane seat he wanted. I could tell by the way he was scowling at me that he wasn’t calling me Sammy in his head anymore. This was too much fun. I hadn’t acted this immature since I rigged the video at my high school assembly to play embarrassing home videos of the jocks, and I started to wonder why I dropped it. Being immature, I mean. It was seriously amusing.

After muttering a few choice words about me, he slumped in his seat and rammed his elbow into me. If this flight weren’t entirely full, I would have begged the flight attendant to please, please save me from this loser.

Then I thought of Val and Tucker, and I felt a little bad. Val and Tucker have been looking forward to this for ages, and they had hoped that we’d get along. I really didn’t want to ruin this for Val. I mean, this was going to be her wedding. She’s going to look back on this day for the rest of her life. Just because the best man was a total prick didn’t give me the right to complain and scar this special memory of hers. And he didn’t have right to do that either.

Damn! Stupid conscience…leave me alone!

I sighed. I was not good with apologizing. “Hey Danny—Dan—listen, I hate you, and you hate me. We both hate each other. But—“

“What an ego booster.”

“You don’t need an ego booster, what you need is a—ugh, anyways, what I’m trying to say is that the feeling is mutual, and we both don’t want to spend a we—“

“It’s pretty presumptuous of you to say that the feeling is mutual. I don’t hate you, I just happen to think you’re a complete bit—“

“Will you stop interrupting!” Geez, this guy was making it harder! Why can’t he just shut his big mouth and listen! “What I am trying to say is that even though we hate each other—and don’t interrupt!” I cut him off before he could say anything else. I was getting the feeling that he was interrupting just to annoy the hell out of me. What is his problem? No, seriously. And, OK, maybe I was doing the same thing a few minutes earlier, but—ugh! Karma.

“Anyways,” I continued, “but this is Val and Tucker’s wedding, and I think we need to put aside our mutual dislike of each other for them. Val’s my best friend, and that overpowers all the hate energy that I’m dying to send your way in order for her happiness. Besides, Tucker and Val love each other—“

“Really? How sweet!” he mocked, acting like he was touched. Then he rolled his eyes, and said, “I’m not here to support Tucker or Valerie, even if Tucker is my best friend. I happen to believe that he is making the biggest mistake of his life.”

Wait. Pause and rewind. He did NOT just say that.

“Excuse me?” I said shrilly. I tended to be saying that a lot around him. “Do you have a problem with my best friend? Is she not good enough for Tucker? Why you arrogant bastard—how dare you say that about my best friend!”

I was shouting this by now, and to say that the people around us were irritated by our constant bickering would be an understatement.

“Calm down,” Danny said, looking amused. The nerve of him to look amused! I can’t believe that he thinks Tucker is making the biggest mistake of his life marrying Valerie! What is wrong with her, may I ask? Just because she isn’t some lapdog puppy that Danny is probably used to in women doesn’t mean that she isn’t good enough!!

To hell with getting along with him. I hope he dies a very painful death involving toothpicks and hot Bunsen burners. I was plotting of all the slow torturous deaths I could give him when he interrupted my thoughts again.

“It’s not like I don’t like Valerie—” I sense a but coming along—“but I don’t think Tucker should get married.”

“You know,” I commented dryly, “just because you are afraid of commitment doesn’t mean Tucker is. Besides, isn’t it obvious that they’re in love? How can you look at them and want to break it up? Do you have a sadistic pleasure in breaking people’s hearts, or something?”

“Who said anything about commitment? Marriage is outdated and it’s going to rob him of his life. Besides, I don’t believe in love. Love is just a chemical reaction in the brain caused by surges of surges of phenylethylamine. In a few years, Tucker and Val will become immune to the chemical and will ‘fall out of love,’ and they will be stuck in marriage shackles.”

I blinked. While I didn’t believe in love for most of my life, I still felt irritated. “So basically, their obvious happiness and love is just a simple chemical reaction, so everything they thought they feel about each other is just something that will go away?”

“Pretty much,” he yawned, missing my obvious sarcasm in the last remark I had made.

“So you think that since you know soooo much and are sooo experienced that you have the right to break up their engagement?”

“I’m his best friend,” he shrugged, “don’t want him to make the same mistake I did.”

I gave him a dirty look. “Go to hell,” I snapped, and put on my headphones. I didn’t want to listen to his stupid rants about chemical reactions in the brain. I was not going to let him ruin Val’s chance at happiness. If he’s too stupid to see what Tucker and Val have together, then it’s his problem. But he’s gotta deal with me before even thinking of destroying Tucker and Val’s relationship. And I’d like to see him try.

Narcissus

Alanis Morissette

Under Rug Swept

Dear magnetic boy you’ve never been with anyone who doesn’t take your shit

You’ve never been with anyone who’s dared to call you on it

I wonder how you’d be if someone were to call you on it

And any talk of selflessness

And any talk of working at this

And any talk of being of service

Leaves you running for the door

(why why do I try to help you try to help you

When you really don’t want me to)

You go back to the women who will dance the dance

You go back to your friends who will lick your ass

You go back to ignoring all the rest of us

You go back to the center of your universe

THE TRAVEL JOURNAL OF SAM MANSON

6/11/06, 6:03 PM

If Danny even dares to mess with this wedding, he will be lacking certain appendages soon. Stupid son of a –ugh, this trip is going to be hell. Enough said.