Compliments by Mari K. Cicero Read Free Book Online

school, it was stupid stuff, too. You just didn’t know any better to realize how idiotic it was. Isn’t it great being older and understanding how silly it was to get worked up about it? Now, go on.”
    I huff before finding my place in my presentation again. “As I was saying, if you did want to be a farmer, you would need to use both algebra and statistics to determine the best way and manner to plant your fields, or figure which crop will make you the most money.”
    He leans forward on the couch, putting his hands on his knees and turning his elbows out. “How much did your daddy get for the ugly crop? I bet a lot the year you were born.”
    “I don’t think farm humor is your thing,” I hiss out.
    He shakes his head and barks out his impression of a buzzer. “Wrong response. Besides, this is probably poetry compared to what you’re likely to encounter.”
    “Okay, Obi-Wan, what is the right response? How do you deal with something like that?”
    “It’s simple, only takes two steps.” He ticks off points on his fingers. “Remain on topic, and take the power back.”
    “How?”
    “By flipping their jibe and making it powerless. The reason many bullies tease is because it’s the only way for them to feel empowered. Which is sad, but not really conductive to teaching. So you have to put a stop to it. For example, you could have said, ‘Yes, sir, sky high, but for some reason my parents only ended up with a few pennies. Guess I wasn’t as ugly as they hoped’.”
    As I stare at him blankly, my eye bats, ticking off the seconds between me and this inane suggestion. Hawk sees the doubt in my expression. He leaps to his feet and comes to stand beside me.
    “The kids who act out aren’t used to having someone accept it and go with it. It confuses them, and the confusion usually makes them stop pretty quickly. Tell you what, let’s switch. I’ll pretend to be the teacher and you hit me with something. I’ll show you how it’s done.” With that, he launches in to what I’m sure was his award-winning presentation. “Because I was able to negotiate down the price of the raw materials by buying in bulk, I was able to make my custom skateboards for one-third the price of the professional guys across town.”
    He looks at me expectantly, pausing. I search his words, but I’ve never tried to insult someone on purpose. It’s such a foreign concept to me that I stumble for the only thing I can think of, his looks.
    “Did you make skateboards to distract people from your shirt?”
    “Is that the best you got?”
    I shrug. “Sorry, I’m not really good at making fun of people.”
    “Still, there has to be infinite possibilities of things you could say to try and piss me off,” he says.
    The mathematician inside of me zeroes in on his statement. “Yeah, but I bet there’s only one worse way to do your hair, and the probability you’d stumble onto it makes me think you should be playing the lottery.”
    I see Hawk’s perfect white teeth through his grin. “You’re a math geek even in insults, but it’s better,” he confirms, then returns to the script of his presentation. “And by fixing my prices to take a short term loss, I was able to increase my long term profit by winning more customers.”
    “Too bad all that money you were making couldn’t afford you a better haircut,” I spit out. I can feel myself getting way too excited about what a moment ago disgusted me. My fists tighten.
    “I had a choice,” he states. “Good hair, or a crazy sweet ride that all the girls would dig. I chose the ride, and got the chicks.” He blows away a blond lock that has fallen into his eyes. “Well, except this one chick, but I’m pretty sure I can make her love my hair too.”
    I don’t know if we’re still acting, but I do know I’m suddenly aware of a spike of irrational jealousy brewing. Despite my best efforts and self-chastisement, my logic picks up on the signals, and I panic. I like Hawk