Author's Note: Okay, I know this idea has been overused (the 100 Word Challenge), but I figure I would try it, just for a bit of fun! I'll try really hard to update about once a day, but if I can't I'm really sorry! So here we go! (I'm excited!)
Word: Apple
Takes place when they are just beginning 5th grade. Freddie is a new kid at the school.
Disclaimer: Ahem… You listening over the rainbow? I DON'T OWN ICARLY! Or have something to cleverly disclaim…
~~Sam's POV~~
The first day of fifth grade is utterly the most horrible day of the year. I mean seriously, who could enjoy the first day of the last year in elementary school, when you know that there is one year left before you get out of this prison? I'm supposed to enjoy being forced around by idiotic teachers who tell me what to do and where to go? Oh, heck no!
What makes it worse for me this year is that there's a new student that happens to (of course) sit right next to me, even though our last names are nowhere near each other alphabetically. Right as he plops down in his seat, I immediately glance at Carly, who sits diagonally from me, right in front of this new dork. She sees my smirk and realizes that I'm up to no good, so she starts shaking her hair back and forth like a wet dog would.
I ignore her, plotting my own harmless little plan to irritate this new kid. Whipping out my emergency straw, I quickly chew up a small scrap of paper, then stick it in and prepare to blow. Ready to show this new guy who's the best here at Ridgeway Elementary, I inhaled and—PLOP!
No, you're not thinking correctly. It didn't hit the nubbish geek. It hit the nubbish weirdo, Gibby, who sits on the other side of this kid. Of course this guy had to bend over and pick up his pencil. Of course he did. The stupid dishrag.
Gibby, who over the years has had a tendency to overreact to many things, such as the field trip to the zoo with llamas, slipping on a banana peel, and hearing the word ointment said by our third grade teacher, shot up from his desk, screamed "SPITBALL!", then started running around the room, shaking his hair and whimpering constantly. Everyone in the class, except for the new student, was just watching Gibby with a bored expression on their face. Even Carly, who usually always wants to help Gibson with his problems, just sat there. I guess this was too much, even for her.
Just at that moment, the teacher, Ms. Fishburn (which sounds great if you're a seafood restaurant owner), came rushing into the room from the teacher's lounge, carrying a steaming cup of coffee, which quick as a blink fell to the floor cracking and breaking to pieces as she tried to calm down Gibby. I silently chuckle, only slightly feeling bad for her as it was her first day on the job. Guess she's never dealt with a crazy freak before.
As she tried to get Gibby to calm down by singing him a lullaby, she rose to her full height (5'1…wow) and asked the class with a harsh tone, "Who shot the spitball?"
No one raised their hands. No one dared to. They didn't know whether this new teacher would be super nice or horribly mean. Or worse; a stuffy old hag who likes to knit socks during recess.
"No one answering, huh? Very well," she glared around the classroom, daring anyone to look in her cold, demanding eyes.
"Gibby!" Ms. Fishburn barked.
"Huh?" he shot up quickly, looking and sounding terrified.
"Who shot the spitball at you?"
"I-I-I don't know," Gibby stammered, looking around anywhere but towards the teacher.
"Are you sure about that?" she questioned sweetly.
"Well, I guess it came from my left," he answered, pointing towards the new kid.
Yes! My plan hadn't been a bust after all! In some form or another, this new nub was going to be embarrassed, but I hadn't thought of using the teacher to do it. I assume the saying that goes "Everything works out in the end," wasn't such a joke after all!
"Fredward Benson?" The teacher loudly announced.
I snickered. His name was Fredward? No wonder he struck me as such a dork! Ms. Fishburn glared at me before turning her attention back to Fredward.
"Did you shoot the spitball at poor Gibby?" Now Carly was glancing back at me, begging with her eyes to help this guy out. I quickly rose my eyebrows, questioning why I should do anything to help that loser.
"No! I swear, I did nothing wrong! It's only my first day at this school! Look—" He sputtered, before digging in his backpack and pulling out a juicy red apple. "I even brought you an apple!"
She snatched it out of his hands and moved her head closer down to his. "Excuse me, sonny, but I don't know if sucking up to the teacher is the best way to—" Ms. Fishburn took a large bite of the apple before continuing. "get out of…Wow! This apple is amazing! Where did you get such a fruit of high quality?" She stared at the shiny product with awe and wonder, leaving me to drop my jaw open in astonishment, while Carly just looked on giddily.
"I got it from the farmer's market. My mom always says 'Fresh fruits are good for anyone but brutes.'" Fredward said, shocked that he had gotten out of a terrible first-day situation. Trust me, buddy, I'm shocked too.
"Well tell her it is delectable! Now why was I angry again?" Ms. Fishburn pondered for a moment, before giving up and getting back to her daily assignment.
"Oh well, I'll think of it later! The first thing I want us to be doing today is…" The rest of what she was saying just droned on and on to me, sounded like nothing but buzz. During some point in her lecture/welcome speech, Carly looked back at me with a sweet smile, happy that everything worked out for the new boy, while I just rolled my eyes.
This Fredward Benson was not getting off the hook so easily. I aimed my spitball gun again, this time making sure that he was absorbed in listening to the teacher, without any intentions of bending over, before shooting and—SPLAT! Hitting the target!
He felt the side of his head carefully, then drew back his hand, looking utterly grossed out at the spit on his palm. Meanwhile, I was trying my hardest not to bust out laughing. Fredward glanced to his left, at Gibby, then to his right at me, pointing his finger accusingly while raising his eyebrow questioningly.
I only had to smirk in response.
His curious eyes turned into ones that shot daggers as he quickly turned away and began furiously writing in his notebook. Probably his diary I thought, tuning back into what the teacher was saying, having no better option, when a neatly folded piece of paper landed gracefully upon my desk.
I looked around the room, making sure no one was watching, before unfolding and reading the note.
Really? It's my first day here; I don't need to be bullied already.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes before writing a response.
Bullied? No, no, no, Fredward Benson. This is not bullying, this is torture.
I watched as his expression turned to shock and horror while reading before writing what he had to say.
Don't call me Fredward, please. It's Freddie. What's your name anyway? I have to report you to the Seattle Police Department.
I raised my eyebrow, questioning in my mind why any kid would be in their right mind to try and stand up against Sam Puckett.
Too bad, you're Fredward now. And it's Sam. Trust me; you will learn to fear this name, nub.
No emotions were shown on his face this time as he quickly wrote back.
I doubt I will. No 5th grader can be that scary. And what is a nub anyway?
This time, I wasted no time even thinking about what I was going to come back with.
Well a supposed-to-be 6th grader can. I had to repeat 3rd grade. And a nub is you, Fredward. I mean, who brings an apple to school for their teacher?
One minute later, the piece of paper appeared on my desk yet again.
I'm still not scared of you. Yet I knew he was bluffing. And most children in America bring apples to their teachers. It's a natural tradition.
Smirking, I realized I would have the last word in this conversation.
Well, you're a natural dork, Fredward Benson. Let's see how you survive living in the same area as me.
I would say the class ended on a pretty high note for me as we breaked for lunch. The terrified look on Fredward's face was definitely something I could get used to.
Author's Note: Okay! 1 down, 99 to go! Whoo hoo! By this rate, I should be done around October 24! Yeah! Alright, good night everyone! OH, and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 is the most ultimately epic movie you will see all year! It's amazing! Now I say good night!