Diggs & Smarts

Smarts, thats a smart idea. I tell her laughing, and slapping my knee comically. I abrubtly stop. My names Gertie. I tell her with out a hitch, but I was dying to tell her my wicked name, cause she seemed awfully proud of hers. Who wouldn't be, Smarts is a sick name, but of course I thought mine was the best. Besides there was time for chit-chat later; right now our focus was the bug. There's a problem with smoothly rolling it up there, the back tire is busted. I mutter thinking in order for that great idea to work, we would have to scout of for a tire the right size, and then put it on the bug.

I start walking around huge piles and lifting up pieces of trash, and peeking under them. Yes. I whisper under my breath finding a tire to a low riding Toyota that might do the job. I wheel it over to Smarts, and line it up with the other tires. It was a little too small, but it would work. I got it. I call out to her, hoping in the back of the truck to grab a tool kit.

I jump down from the back, and start to pry the flat tire lose. 15, and yourself? I ask her, grunting as I pop the tire off.

Ha. No, I go to Scottlin. I tutor at Griffin. I say to her, making the finishing touches to the tire securing it.

I look at her with shock. She had just crossed the line; no more nice Diggs. Excuse me? I ask her my voice sharp. No, actually I'm not one of those 'snotty smart a**'s'. I grab a chunk of my hair, and wave it in her face. Does this hair looked like I had a hair dresser work on it for hours? No. And Scottlin isn't a snooty private school, its for those of us who are smarter than regular people. Obviously you wouldn't know anything about being smart, despite your misleading name. I snap at her my voice rising with each word. I resist the urge to peg her right there and then. Remember what the counciler told you, ten deep breaths before reacting. God, I hated that woman. With her perfect bun, trying to disguise the fact that she was going grey. And her stupid New Zealand accent that everyone thought was so comforting. I kick the wheel into place roughly, and start setting up boards to roll it up into the back. And what about this truck, you think a snobby prep would have a bad a** truck like this? No, they would have had their rich parents pay for a nice sleek cute convertable, and they wouldn't have had to pay a penny out of their purse for it. I say fuming at her insult. Maybe I had taken it over board, but that was just cruel to say. Although what I said was probably going to sting more that what she had told me.

Okay, what ever. I practically shout at her. With a sudden burst of energy, I hop in the back of the truck, and grab a cable. I hook it to the front of the bug, and pull. Not cutting it. I groan inwardly, and climb out from the back. I heat myself up enough to have enough energy to push the car, and shove it up the boards. There. I close the back, knocking away the boards. You probably are wearing a mask too, but since you want to be all phisological go ahead and pretend you aren't. Next time I need mental help, I can just come to Dr. Smarts. I tell her with fake cheer. I shut the back of the car, and get into the cab. Before I leave, I say to her in a cold icy tone. And my name isn't Gertie. It's Diggs. I tell the Truth. Then I pull off leaving a large cloud of dust behind me.