I've been wanting to write a Baljeet and Buford frenemy-fluff ever since I first listened to the song. XD

Omg, I listened to that song so many times in a row! It is SO cute! XD

Baljeet was walking, completely oblivious to his surroundings as he had his nose buried in a book.

But it wasn't just any book: it was a math textbook.

He and his parents had arrived from India only a few months ago, and he was still having a little trouble with his English. Pressure from school was getting to him: English (obviously) was a nightmare, and, let's face it: he was completely useless when it came to science.

But math he was good at. It was probably his best subject, because no matter where you go, numbers will always be numbers. He liked that about them: they didn't change meaning with different languages. They always maintained a logical order and pattern, that could be predicted.

Math problems were simply complicated puzzles. And Baljeet liked puzzles.

He was so caught up in the book that he didn't notice he was heading towards the school bully until it was too late. He ran smack-dab into the other boy, who was much larger than he was.

"HEY!" Buford yelled in Baljeet's face. "Watch it! You nearly overturned my goldfish!"

Baljeet, who was cowering behind his book for some means of protection, peered around the bully and saw that he was pulling along a little red wagon, in which sat a small, round bowl, filled with crystal-clear water. In the very center of the bowl floated a tiny fish, it's gold scales glistening.

"Oh, excuse me," Baljeet stammered. "I d-did not mean—"

Buford grabbed the front of Baljeet's shirt and pulled him closer so that they were nose-to-nose.

"You could have killed him!" he shouted. "You apologize to him RIGHT NOW!"

Baljeet winced, but as soon as Buford released him, he walked over to the wagon and knelt down next to it.

"Um, Mr. Fish…"

"BIFF!"

"M-Mr. Biff…" He stared directly at the goldfish. "I humbly beg your pardon for my actions." He glanced up Buford. "How is that?"

Buford narrowed his eyes.

"You live," he said coldly.

Baljeet gave a heavy sigh of relief. But then Buford sucked his own finger for a moment, before sticking it in the Indian boy's ear.

"Aeiii!" Baljeet cried. Buford simply laughed.

"You were lucky." Then he grabbed the handle of his wagon and sprinted away.

Baljeet rubbed his ear, then hugged his textbook against his chest and continued on his way home.

I wanted it to be a little more than this, but for now it'll have to do. I might continue it, but it won't be any time soon if I do decide to.