Gogo sped past cars on the San Fransokyo streets, her legs pumping quickly to keep her speed, which was necessary-if she slowed down even a tiny bit, she'd be late for school. And sure, she was usually late, but recently she had been on time, and, well, if she wanted to get into the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, she would have to continue the streak. She whizzed past a teal accented van, and accidentally swerved closer to the van than she would've liked, almost side to side with the driver. Slowing down, Gogo kept the same pace as the car, and gave an annoyed smile to the driver, a burly teen her age with dreadlocks pulled back by a soft yellow band.
"Sorry," she shouted, hoping he could hear her over the classical music playing inside his car, "I'm late for school, and a little distracted, if you know what I mean."
He returned the smile, revealing pearly white teeth, and he turned down the radio in his car, and then rolled down the window. "It's okay, just please be careful next time. Ethel, right? I recognize you from school."
Gogo frowned. She hadn't wanted to chitchat, she had only wanted to apologize and speed off. And she absolutely hated when people called her by her real name. "I go by Gogo, actually," she answered irritably, popping a pink bubblegum. "Now, if you don't mind-"
"Oh, sorry! I'm Damon, but everyone calls me...nevermind. I hate my nickname. Fred gave it to me. You know Fred, right?"
Gogo bit her lip, and resisted the urge to pedal away without replying. "You know Fred? No offense, but he seems out of your league."
Damon laughed a little. "It's okay. Yeah, we're-" He gasped a little as the cars behind him beeped their horns, annoyed, and he looked up at the light. "It's green! I can't believe I held up traffic. And I'm late! This is not my day! I'd better go!"
Gogo shrugged a little, ignoring the tiny bit of worry she felt for her stressed classmate, and continued biking, eventually racing past him. She turned a few corners and just as she rode the yellow bike into the parking lot, the late bell sounded, and Gogo groaned, cursing under her breath as she parked her bike in the bike stand.
"Hey, Gogo," yelled Damon, waving as he stepped out of his parked van, "This is so not our day, am I right?"
"I mean, it's not that bad," Gogo answered, "I'm late all the time. You just go to the office, get a slip, and go to class like usual. Easy."
Damon sighed. "Maybe this sounds silly, but I've never been late before. EVER. I'm kind of worried. I mean, what's Mike going to think?!" He began to pace around Gogo, who was obviously quite confused.
"First of all, who's Mike? And who even cares what this Mike character thinks? It's one late day. One! Now woman up! We're going to walk inside, get late slips, and go to class right now!" Gogo declared, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly.
Damon looked down at the short girl and smiled affectionately as he followed her lead into the sleek, glassy building. "Mike's my little brother. He looks up to me. But you're right. Maybe I don't need to care about his opinion as much. So...thanks, Gogo."
Gogo's rosy cheeks turned a shade darker, and she gave a small, embarrassed smile in return. "You're welcome. Anything for a...friend," she said lightly, unsure why she had called this person-practically a stranger-a friend after a few minutes of conversation. Tadashi, Fred, and even Honey had taken a while to grow on her, and gain friendship. Maybe an easily made friend was what she really needed. Because sure, Damon did seem to be her complete opposite, but perhaps it was true-maybe opposites did attract.
