Dib's hand lazily drags the pencil across the piece of paper in front of him, rows and rows of letters flowing out in neat cursive, his cheek is resting in his right palm. A badly constructed paper airplane wobbles past his nose.

Boredom is obviously etched into his face while Ms. Bitters drones on about doom. He doesn't bother to cover up what he was writing, no one payed much attention to what he was doing unless he was getting their attention with his "insane rambling". His mind was in more 'pleasant' places, involving a usual occupant in his thoughts. Although, today, he probably should have been more careful.

"So, what's that?" Zita questioned innocently and Dib almost doesn't hear her.

What is Zita doing out of her seat?

Dib's hands slam down onto the table, covering most of the paper suspiciously.

"Nothing." Dib says, in a tone that suggests it was definitely something.

"Oh really? Are you sure?" Zita urges, spastically curious, she walks behind him - attempting to get a closer look over his shoulder, she sees a few undistinguished letters.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Dib squawks nervously, he quickly folds the paper in to a surprisingly neat little square. "Shouldn't you be sitting down?"

Zita's eyes lower, as if thinking and she then releases a loud, girlish gasp.

"Is it a love letter?" She asks, hands clasped together. "Who's it for?"

Before Dib can answer her, she reaches over and snatches the paper from Dib's grasp, his eyes widen - frantic as Zita nearly tore the note open, her eyes zipped from side to side as she moved down the note.

"All it says is..." She starts, forehead creased in confusion and Dib reaches over the desk and takes the paper back - the chalkboard coming in to view again.

"Shhhh! Shut up!" Dib hisses, finger to his lip and glaring, Zita smiles and giggles lightly.

"Dib likes Ziiim." She sing-songs as she sways from side to side, hands behind her back, a little too loudly and Dib can feel his face heat up.

Zim, despite his lack of acuteness in hearing, catches his name easily - he looks to the side and sees a very flustered Dib and an amused Zita. His eyes narrow, were the humans conspiring against him?

"Zita! Cut it out!" Dib whines, looking horribly distressed as his hands flail at her, Zita's voice hits and octave too high and all of a sudden everyone can hear her. Curious faces rise above their assignments.

"Dib likes Zim!"

"Zita!"

"Do you want to kiss him? Do you dream about it? Interesting, interesting!" She says, making evil, obnoxious squealing noises.

A series of loud laughter erupts and Zim frowns, still not entirely sure what was happening, Dib sinks down in his desk. He wishes he could just disappear, or maybe just blend in with wall.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS? ZIM DEMANDS TO KNOW!"

The little alien pushes his chair back from his desk, the metal scraping against the dirty floor, he marches over to Dib's desk and glares daggers at him. Zita backs up, making an "Oooh" sound. Dib squeaks, bright and noticeable blush gracing his face, one of Zim's eyes quirk up.

"Uh..." Dib stammers, unsure of what to say with the weight of Zim's gaze on him.

"Did you see Dib's note? It's really interesting Zim! You should see it!" Zita quips and Dib growls at her, his fingers tightening around his note.

Zim's face goes back to being expressionless, he reaches over and uncurls Dib's fingers out of their fist to retrieve the note, Dib makes a sound of sheer disapproval. This is none of Zim's business (false), that's his note!

Zim unfolds the note with bored contemplation, what was so special about this thing? It must be important if the Dib-thing is panicking for it. Dib hastily reaches over the desk and tries to grab for the note, but Zim moves back and Dib just comes up with a fistful of air.

Zim scans the note over, but all it says is his name, over and over. Rows filled out with it. Well, Zim was aware of Dib's obsession with him and it wasn't as if this wasn't returned, most of Zim's thoughts were clustered with the raven haired boy. But most of it was hateful.

"What is this?" Zim asks, ever-so devious smirk gracing his face. "A love confession?"

The thought of Dib being infatuated with him was hilarious, it would certainly explain a lot of the pathetic behavior he often displayed.

"I'M NOT CONFESSING ANYTHING!" Dib shrieks, fists clenched, he was still sitting. It felt as though he was glued to that spot. He clenches the hem of his trench coat uneasily.

Zim cackles.

"I don't blame you, earthmonkey," Zim says, arrogantly-relaxed at first, before yelling, "I AM ZIM!"

Zim walks next to Dib's desk and presses his mouth against Dib's cheek, but it wasn't a kiss.

"Do you want me to?" He teases, Dib lets the feeling of Zim's mouth pressed against his overheated skin wash over him before jumping out of his desk.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Dib cries out hysterically and his classmates continue to laugh, although, all he wanted was Zim to touch him - but he wasn't about to admit that.

"It would be rude not to kiss your boyfriend." Zita jokingly chides, wagging her finger back and forth in front of Dib's face, Dib snarls in agitation - face still a bright, bright red. Zim laughs again and wonders how he could use Dib's 'crush' against him.

Dib doesn't notice when Zim folds the note again, placing it against the elastic of his pants, planning on keeping it.