BLEH, sorry. Writers block, and I dont know what the heck im doing. Trying to get back in the groove.

AS SOON AS I DO, I SWEAR I'll give you like 9308409 chapter for The Sun. and then I'll start re-doing Super Villain summer Camp. :D! huttah!

while writing this, i've decided that it's going to be a three-shot.

Myk's POV

Lash's POV

narrative POV.

yes. sir.

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MYK P.O.V.

I cannot begin to tell you how beautiful the guy in my Science and Math class is. Oh god, every time he walks into the door, I can't help but smile. Helen has to poke me in the ribs to keep me from drooling like an idiot.

I never miss it when he walks into the room because he's always late, but that's okay. He's not late by that much. I know his name is Lash, and I know that can't be his real name. If it is, my real name is Sunshine.

On the way to his seat, he'll walk by me every day. Every day I can smell his faint-worthy cologne, and every day I can hear what he's listening to on his iPod. Today was... no... could it be? The Goo Goo Dolls!

Before I knew what happened, the paper I'd been absent-mindedly doodling on dissapeared from beneath my pen. I looked around and saw Helen crumpling it up and quickly giving me a new paper. Mr. Medulla was eyeing me oddly, and I could see a bunch of complex formulas on the board.

"Shit," I coughed under my breath and wrote down the formula's as quickly as I could. Just my luck, though, because Mr. Medulla started erasing them when I was half way done with the second one.

"Wha-! Hel, can I see-" I made a move for her notes. She sheilded them from me, and I gawked at her.

"If I let you see them, then I'll get behind and we'll both fail," Helen shook her head and her brown bob swayed around her chin. I groaned and litterally pulled a head-desk.

"Miss Peterson!" Mr. Medulla chimed in his high, falsetto, sing-song voice. I slowly looked up at him, internally screaming. "Is something wrong?"

"N-no Mr. Medulla. I just- uh- I- headache," I said, rubbing my forehead. Hey, I have a right to say that. I just slammed my face into the desktop.

"Very well! Would you like a pass to go to the nurse? I'm sure she has some pain-releaver, unless she has a headache as well," Mr. Medulla chortled to himself.

"No, Mr. Medulla, I'll live," I muttered, even though I could tell he wasn't listening to me anymore. People always stop listening to me before I'm done talking. Either that, or they outright ignore me.

I was planning on just staring at my paper and slowly moving my pencil back and forth across it when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, and I kid you not, I almost fell of my lab stool.

It was him! Lash! And he was holding out a paper to me! What was it, I wondered. A love note? A note asking me to the prom? Oh, I could only wish.

"Are you going to take it, or not?" Lash wiggled the paper a little, and I realized I'd been staring at it. "It's the notes you just missed while you were doodling. Yeah, I saw it. But don't worry about taking the notes, I copied them during lunch so I wouldn't have to do anything during class. I know, sly, right?"

So that was how he could afford to sleep in class, and yet when Mr. Medulla went around the class handing out grades, he always got at least a B-. It's not like I'm stalking him. When Mr. Medulla says the grades out loud, you cant help but notice what people are getting.

I slowly took the paper from his hand when something behind him caught my eye. When I looked I saw that Nikki was holding up a sign, not high enough to be noticed, and pointing at it dramatically. The sign reads:

"PULL UP YOUR PANTS."

Oh. Shit. I jumped up from my stool, unfortunatley knocking it down. What did I receave? Unwanted attention. Always with the unwanted attention.

"Sorry," I muttered. "My balance sucks...?" I internally did another head-desk. I restored my stool to its orignal position with my mind, pulled up my pants and pulled down my shirt, and internally sighed. Heavily.

I spent the rest of class silently copying notes, nothing very extraordinary. I was almost done with the notes, I was on the last page, almost to the bottom, when I read it, and it felt like something hit me in the face. I decided to ignore it till I got there.

I finished the notes, and stared at the bottom of the page. I could also feel someone staring at the back of my head, but I was probably wrong. I have horrible watching senses. I'll think someones watching me, but when I look up, they are fully NOT watching me.

I bet you're all in a tiffy about what's at the bottom of the page. In big, bold pen letters that looked like they'd be written and re-written several times to make them bigger and bolder and stand out more, acompanied by being highlighted in green when the rest of the page was highlighted in orange, was written

"WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME?"

It was really old fashioned. How do I know? There was even two little boxes under the statement, both blank, the one on the left with YES under it, and the one on the right with NO under it.

I began to analyze and over analyze. Lash has barely said two words to me in my entire life. Well, I mean he just said about fifteen to me, but you know what I mean. We don't talk, we don't hang out, nothing. It's just one of those things where you get a crush on someone you don't know at all. And you imagine and pretend what it would be like if you did know each other and what it would be like if you were actually dating. I was just one of those girls who drooled over his long arms and shaggy hair.

So would he really be asking me? I don't think so. This probably wasn't meant for me to read. He's probably going to give the notes to another girl. A prettier girl, one who's at least a size two, because I'm guessing he likes girls with at least a little bit of hips and at least a little bit of butt. Probably a blonde girl, with green or blue eyes, maybe even hazel, or one of those girls with wacky eye colors. Like purple, or yellow, I don't know. Probably for a girl who doesn't switch off wearing glasses and contacts, and probably a girl who doesn't worry to death about whether she looks fat at the moment because she doesn't NEED to, because she doesn't have any fat.

But definitley not me.

So what did I do? Well, to be frank, I didn't do anything. That's right. I left it blank, and when the bell wrang, I gave it back to him. He looked rather happy to get his notes back, so he'll be even happier to find out that the wrong girl didn't fill in the blank.

Well, good for you, Lash, go find your skinny, blonde, big-boobed, weird-eye-colored, size two prom date.

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MMM, end MYK's POV.

:D this is fun. I'll be spewing out chapters for The Sun in no time. uh huuuuuuh.

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