A sweater clad arm shot up for the twentieth time that class period. Mr. Bartlett, a balding biology teacher who most people loathed, scanned the class for any other hands. Finally, he was forced to call on the bespectacled girl, who perched at the edge of her seat with magnified, eager eyes.

"The system you described, Mr. Bartlett, is an example of allopatric speciation," Velma answered comprehensively, folding her hands back on her desk. The older man nodded, primed to carry on his lecturing. Before he could continue; however, a voice arose from behind the clever brunette at the front of the class.

"Jesus, Dinkley," sounded the charming voice, "Why don't you just teach this class?" Giggles from girls filled the room. Velma didn't have to turn around to know that it was Fred Jones who had made the remark. Nevertheless, she did turn, trying to give him a dirty look but finding it challenging because of his perfect face. Mr. Bartlett ignored the jocular comment, while Velma turned a bright shade of pink. She still wondered how the blonde brute behind her made his way into a college level biology class. Fred Jones irked her; that much she knew. Words couldn't describe how much she hated that beautiful son of a bitch.

The bell echoed harshly and the class was dismissed. Fred found himself surrounded by kittenish girls before he had even left the room. As he entered the hallway, though, he caught sight of the gorgeous redhead that had been riddled in his desires for years. Daphne Blake strutted towards him, eying him with seductive emeralds.

"Fred, where the fuck were you last night?" she laughed with an insolent tone that defied her gorgeous face. Fred smirked, grabbing the cheerleader by her waist.

"I was out with Josh," Fred laughed, and Daphne perked up. "Out," she knew well, was a euphemism for getting high when dealing with Fred's stoner of a teammate. Josh Arnett nearly got kicked off the football team a handful of times for his possession of weed.

"You should take me tonight," Daphne suggested, running a slender finger down his chest. For a sheltered rich girl, she really knew how to party. She hoped that going out with Fred and ignoring her schoolwork would help take her mind off things.

"Damn, you should've asked sooner," Fred apologized, and Daphne immediately stopped her flirtatious gestures, "J-man just ran out of the green." Daphne folded her arms and pouted slightly, turning somewhat away from the boy.

"Damn. I was really hoping to smoke something tonight," she whined suggestively, "It's been a long week." Fred gave her a concerned look and attempted to hug her, but the redhead turned away once more. She had the boy wrapped around her dainty little finger.

"That kid Norville Rogers is always high," Fred offered to the dissatisfied girl, "Maybe he'll bum us some." Daphne scrunched her nose as if she had smelled something foul.

"You mean that weird hippy kid who sits in the back of our English class?" Fred nodded apprehensively. Daphne sighed, but nodded reluctantly after thinking it over. The kid seemed to have access to a lot of pot.

Short-heeled shoes clicked against the tiled floor as Velma Dinkley headed towards her Calculus class. She paused when she caught sight of Fred and Daphne standing idly in the hallway.

"Don't you two ever go to class?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious. Daphne stepped forward, scoffing at the shorter girl and speaking with an obnoxious delivery.

"Don't you ever wear anything but sweaters, Dinkley?" she hissed, "Why don't you go fuck a calculator." Fred thought the words were very severe, not to mention nonsensical, but he decided to back up the attractive girl. Velma looked affronted and, having nothing to reply, walked dumbly into her math class. The two kids in the hallway waited a good five minutes after the bell to head to English.

Mrs. Duvall droned, and Fred had ignored the assigned seating arrangement to catch a spot closer to Norville. The kid's light brown hair covered his eyes, and there was faint stubble on his chin. The boy was so thin; it looked as though the touch of a hand could shatter his bones. He wore headphones that took him to another world, and he seemed to be enjoying a euphoria that began when he lit up in the bathroom earlier. The charming blonde fellow tapped him on his shoulder, disrupting his daydream.

"Yo Norville, is it cool if we all have a toke at your place tonight?" Fred inquired, seeming unaffected by the fact that he barely knew the guy.

"Like, the name's Shaggy, bruh," the other teen replied, taking off his headphones. Fred offered him a blank stare, not giving a shit about what this stoner kid went by. Shaggy seemed to zone out again, and Fred had to snap him back to focus. He replies, "Sure, you guys can smoke with me. Just, like, you and the cheerleader?"

"Yeah, bro. Real relaxed," Fred replied, and Shaggy didn't seem at all confused by the arrangement, "How's seven, Shag?" The pot-head nodded understandingly and returned to his music and his dream world.

After class, Fred and Daphne started heading to lunch. When they arrived, they sat at their normal table, which was made up of football players, cheerleaders, and rich kids. Across the cafeteria, Daphne saw Velma, who was sitting at a table with other honors students and band geeks. She swallowed guiltily, rethinking her previous encounter with the geeky girl.

"I'm going to go apologize, Fred," she announced, a drip of humanity in her voice for the first time that day. As she stood, she heard snorts from across her table. Josh had nearly choked on his sandwich.

"I must've smoked something, did I just here Daph say she was going to apologize?" he uttered with snickering boys backing him up. Daphne ignored them, walking directly towards Dinkley's table.

"Velma, can I talk to you?" she asked, trying to sound as polite as possible. The clever girl wasn't buying it, and Daphne began to grow impatient, "Please?"

Eventually, she had coaxed the younger girl to follow her into the hallway. She faced her, looking down apologetically. "I'm really sorry about earlier."

Velma seemed convinced that she meant it. "It's okay," she replied softly, "It was none of my business what you guys were up to."

Damn right, she thought. Nevertheless, Daphne kept her pink lips shut until the girl was finished. Finally as a polite gesture, she said, "Fred and I are going to hang out and smoke tonight if you wanna come…" Of course this prude is going to say no.

To Daphne's surprise, she saw a flash in Velma's eyes. The shorter girl licked her lips, actually intrigued at the offer. She quickly tried to hide it.

"Are you actually thinking about coming?" Daphne asked, taken aback. The bespectacled girl rubbed the toe of her modest, red shoe on the ground, embarrassed. Daphne placed her hands on her hips, slightly amused.

"I'm well aware of the detrimental effects that cannabis has on the brain," Velma began articulately, "I've just always wanted to try it…" The wild glimmer returned to her large brown eyes for another brief moment. Daphne suddenly realized that the quiet, reserved girl had just been waiting for an excuse to go wild.

"Wow, Dinkley, this is unexpected," Daphne sniggered, and Velma turned bright red, "What's next for you, crystal meth? Heroin?" Velma gave the older girl a derisive glance, placing a single hand on her hip.

"The weed's fine, thanks," she sneered, and with that, she turned on her heel and strutted back to the cafeteria, the click-clack of her shoes reverberating against the lockers. Before she went through the door, though, Velma turned back and glanced at Daphne one last time.

"See you tonight."