FicWad

“Worksheets twenty-eight and thirty. Work until the bell. Groups of two or three. Go,” the teacher stated, writing conjugations on the board.
A collective groan ensued.
“Move,”
“Make me,” a tall junior threatened, standing up and turning to find the source of the demand.
A freshman squeezed around him and took his seat.
“Damn y- fine,” the junior said, annoyed, as he walked away.
“And what are we supposed to be doing?” The quiet girl in the back row wondered.
“Twenty-eight and thirty,” the freshman replied, turning in the chair he had stolen.
“Twenty-nine?”
“Nope.” He popped his lips on the ‘p.’
She smiled.
“Ok, now, how do you do this?” he asked, pulling his textbook out of his backpack.
“Gimme a second to figure that out,” she laughed, skimming the pages.
He turned his chair to face her desk.
“Well, read faster,” he whined, nudging her shoe with his own and smiling.
“Why don’t you read?” she whined back, playfully kicking his leg.
He turned, grabbed his textbook, and dropped it on her desk. He stretched his legs so one of hers was between his. She moved her leg closer to his without thinking.
He looked up and smiled.
He slid his phone out of his pocket, looked at the display, and dropped it into his backpack.
“So we have like, ten more minutes,” he stated, looking at the worksheet, but using his legs to make it clear that he wasn’t concerned about it.
She put her pen down and grabbed her notebook.
He grabbed her pen and tucked it in his back pocket. She leafed through her notebook until she found what she was looking for, and then looked up at him.
“Gimme it,” she laughed.
“Come and get it,” he teased, patting his back pocket.
“I will,” she warned, winking. “You know full well that I will.”
“I do,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket and silently threatening to put it down his pants.
She giggled at his Southpark boxers.
“Come on, we need to finish,” she whined, launching herself over the desk in an attempt to grab the pen that he was now wiggling over his head.
He was too fast; he chuckled and put the pen in the pocket of his hoodie.
She held her hand out for the pen.
“Come and get it,” he repeated.
“Please?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.
He stared at her open hand for a moment, and then bit it.
She started cracking up.
“Ugh, your hand tastes nasty!” he complained, biting his own. “Mine tastes like… lotion.”
“Yeah soap tends to taste like shit! And that’s weird,” she laughed, while reaching into his pocket and taking the pen. “Ow… that hurt.”
“My teeth are sharp,” he shrugged, stealing her notebook.
“Oh dear,” she said, trying to see what he was writing.
“No! Bad. No peeking,” he laughed, hiding it from her.
“What are you-” she asked, lunging for the notebook. “Are you trying to color the whole page?” she asked, sinking back in her chair, accepting defeat.
“There,” he said, closing the notebook.
“What did-” she giggled, flipping through the pages.
He had scribbled the word “rawr” across the last page.
“Rawr means ‘I love you” in emo,” she stated, raising one eyebrow as she started to work on the assignment.
He just smiled up at her, and put his hand on her knee under the desk.
She used her other leg to pull his chair closer, then wrapped her leg around his, and he started to trace circles on her knee.
He put his free hand on hers.
“Give it up, hun, we’re not gonna finish,” he said quietly, and then winked.
She rolled her eyes, but tucked the worksheets into a folder.
“Do you play?” he asked, touching the guitar pick hanging on a chain around her neck.
“Define ‘play,’” she giggled, as he reached around her neck to unclasp the thin silver chain.
He slid the red pick off of the necklace, and turned it over in his hands.
“This thing sucks! You couldn’t even play with it,” he said, bending it in half. “I know,” she replied. “I got it at Hot Topic for fifty cents; what do you expect? I have a good one at home,”
“So why not wear that one?”
“I couldn’t punch a hole in it. It was too thick.”
“So push harder!” He saw her face, and immediately realized that that was not the best choice of words. They both started laughing hysterically.
“That’s what she said,” she managed to get out between giggles, which only made him laugh harder.
When they had recovered from their uncontrollable bout of laughter, they both slid out their cell phones and looked up.
“Bell’s about to ring,” they said simultaneously.
“I know,” they both said.
They started laughing as they threw their books into their backpacks.
“What you didn’t finish is homework!” the teacher shouted over the class.
He threw his bag on the table with a loud thud.
“Bye,” he said. “See ya.”
The bell rang and the entire class tried to squeeze out the door at once.
“Toodles,” she said, as he walked out the door.