Sammie had, quietly like a well oiled engine, tried to garner Iris’s attention. This was to no avail as Iris’s senses seemed to be in the “Dulled” range. Every whisper, under breath mutter, and light poking she had tried had gone without response. Iris just kept her head up facing towards the front; she didn’t even turn to look at Sammie when Harold came back, made a big fuss, and was sent once more to the counselor.
Sammie had to do something somehow, all while under the watchful eye of kiss d*ck (kiss a*s + d*ck) teach. This was all so she could amend their previously bad first impression. Tactic 1 - talking, and tactic 2 - physical contact, had already fallen through the floorboards so it was up to tactic 3 - passing notes, to get the job done. Ripping out a sheet form the book in front of her *Rrrrrrriiiiiiippp*, she froze. Holy Sh*t that was loud.
One student was now looking at her with questioning and dissatisfied eyes. The glare originating from this one girl implied familiarity, but Sammie had never met them before. Who were they? what were they angry about? Why her? These were all for when her life didn’t hang in the balance of making a friend. Ignoring them and pulling out her pencil, Sammie began to write.
Hi, this is Sammie, that girl who punched the guy who tried to feel you up. I had no influence in that matter, but even so I wanted to say sorry about it. Maybe we could meet up during lu - *Crack * the tip broke. -nch. I would love to know you better; we could even become best friends! See you soon.
Sammie let out a huff, writing friendly was so hard her grip broke the pencil. Folding the message into a mini paper plane she reared her arm back and threw it gently, it was only a foot or two after all. Gliding, the air gently caressed the plane’s underbelly, tickling out laughter from the graphite stained paper. Like small bells that noise rang throughout the classroom and soon everyone was laughing. The girl who was watching her laughed too; only it was a coarse, deep, and guttural laugh of something not too unlike pure malevolence.
Slamming her eyes wide open Sammie jumped out of her seat, knocking her knee into the hard wood of the desk. “Sammie! What are you doing?!”, that was the teach. Looking around everyone was making a passing glance at her, even Iris, but no one was laughing. Phew, just a dream, just a dream. But now, the teach was tisking with a tapping foot, never go against the athorata kids. “I was praying to Lanitivis”.
It was on his face, the teach knew Sammie lied but, with the power of societal justin, he couldn’t touch her without invoking the wrath of society. The class laughed, this time not with a sentient paper plane. Iris had even looked over and stifled a giggle, success. Laying back down in her seat Sammie smiled, basking in the short lived glory of delinquency.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Realizing that it had all been a dream she tried once more to send a message to the target. Using the great and mighty powers of fusion, tactic 1 and 3 were combined into another stratagem of much greater potential than the sum of its parts, but dealing with dangerous skills such as these comes at a cost. Sacrificing the prismacolor eraser to the graphite gods she unsteadily carved out, You Me Lunch.
Tossing it out to her side she crossed her finger and hoped not to die. All she would need to do was then ask Iris to pick up her eraser for her. Instead she died, the porous PVC crushed in upon itself when impacting the ground and bounced for what seemed to be an eternity, rolling off into the distance until reaching the only person who had noticed her toss it. The girl reached over, grasped the holy tablet, read the three words, and glanced at Sammie.
Their eyes met and lighting crossed the gap of the classroom, A Beaut!!! Blond locks of chest length hair encircled a femininely farded androgyneous face with piercing blue eyes. With a flutter of the girl’s eyelashes her glance turned to a gaze, it flickered from one of annoyance to one of caution and questioning in the instance of its conception.
Sammie just shut up after that, she had no clue how many times she had tried to get Iris’s attention, but every single one of them had failed. No fusion, no matter how great, would yield the desired results. All she could do was wait as the narrator of unreality spoke,” Woe is thou who hast no chance, peradventure the future may bring fairer odds. But for now, thou hast bigger fish to fry.”
Time passed by as time usually does, it isn’t often that it stops or that it passes adjacent. While this was happening everything in existence happened, but more importantly, Sammie sighed. She was hungry and bored and her a*s hurt. The last was cause they were rich, meaning the teachers moved from class to class while the students stayed put in their hard wooden seats. She hadn’t gotten up since claiming her faith in some made up religion hours ago.
As her mind ageded and withered under the assault of “derivative”, “jounce”, “Work”, and other mumbo jumbo words of the physics flock, its soul escaped to wander the ethereal plane. In its detached mindset Sammie’s soul could have found the meaning behind the number 42, instead it wondered, “My a*s hurts, people’s a*ses with roids hurt, they use donut cushions, I should get one.”
Something, a voice, broke Sammie away from her enlightened trance, “Hello, it's lunch time and it seemed like you were asleep, wanna go to lunch with me?” Why the gods had graced her, opening her eyes Sammie revealed Iris’s face in all of its salvific glory. Dumbly nodding at such a prime chance to kiss up she rose excitedly. “Sorry about earlier, that wasn’t meant to happen at all.”
“Hmm, what happened earlier?” Iris asked, embarrassed by her own poor recollection. YES, YES, YES!!!! Sammie had it now, socialy dumb and innocent yet book smart FL was the easiest to trick. Grasping their bags the two left the classroom heading to the great beyond. As if in sendoff, flowers bloomed in splendid colors; mind you, like a 5 o’clock happy hour it is always spring somewhere.