FicWad

The drumsticks in my hand were so worn from hitting the rims that I know had a splinter up the side of my thumb. As I glared down at it, thinking how much it was going to hurt to take it out, my band director said my name.

All of the heads turned at once in my direction.

"Yes, Ms. Wakelin?" I answered the grouchy blonde woman. She was being exceptionally bitchier than usual today.

"What's so fascinating now that you missed your que again?" She questioned.

I shrugged, "Splinter."

Ms. Wakelin rolled her eyes, said, "I told you to replace those things," then looked down at her music and shook her head, mumbling under her breathe.

"Um?" I said, "Ms. W?"

She looked back up at me and I could tell her patience was worn. I guess I can say I understand her attitude (somewhat), seeing as she'd just gone through a divorce (I can't fathom why that happened...) and we were missing practically our whole brass section, which trew everyone off.

Good thing super drummer, Bob Bryar, was here to save the day. Seeing as this was the last full rehersal before the jazz festival in about, oh, three hours.

"Can I go to the bathroom real quick?" I said.

She nodded impatiently, "Be quick, Bryar."

Oh, thank god it's my senior year. Soon I'll be off to college, studying to be a sound technician.

While in the bathroom, I tried running my thumb under water from five minutes so it would be easier to come out, but it just wouldn'y budge. Sighing, I leaned against the wall. I'd come to the bathroom that nobody ever uses, and I loved the silence in here.

"Bob," said a soft whisper that I think was coming from the last stall. Thinking that I heard things, I shrugged it off. Until it happened again.

"Bob."

I slowly walked to the last stall, getting a bit creeped out, and it was closed but not locked. I leaned down to see if there was anyone there, but there were no feet.

"Hello?" I said out loud.

Just then the stall whipped open and my best friend, Casey, jumped out.

"What the fuck!" I yelled, punching his arm.

Casey laughed, dimples forming on his dark face. "I had you going!"

"Whatever," I said, trying again to get out the splinter.

"Bob," Casey whispered the same way he had before, then cracked up. "Oh, god!" Now he was hysterical.

"Yeah, shut the fuck up," I mumbled. "I'm not telling you anything anymore, asshole."

That made him stop. "Sorry, dude," he said to me. "But it was funny."

"You didn't tell anyone, did you?" I asked him, nervously.

Casey shook his head, "Nah, don't worry, man. I got your back." He awkwardly pet my shoulder. "Plus, everyone already thinks you're crazy, anyway."

I knew he was just kidding, but it made me a bit uneasy. "I really should get back to Ms. Wakelin's."

"Yeah, she probably thinks you've flushed yourself down the toilet or something," he agreed, leaving the bathroom empty and going out seperate ways, alone.

Well, okay, so I wasn't alone.










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So, first chapter. Tell me what you think, and if it's worth continuing. There aren't many Bob stories so I decided to write one :)
REVIEWS!!! please