Jake's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Day
By: Paige Collins and Meghan~Jinx
Paige's Authors Note: Hmmm. You and I noticed it too. Yep. It's proper. I was actually going get this published, but I decided it should be an Animorphs story and I didn't want to go back and write things "Paige Style."
Meggie-Jinx's note: Always campin'! ::Paige snickers::
Huuuuuh?
Whaaaa…?
My head went down in slow Power Puff Girl motion and slammed hard on my desk. Then my head hurt.
I lifted my head to see the teacher writing math problems on the board. The board began to swirl and out popped five little gnomes. Okay, that's what I thought happened.
"Jake," the teacher said. Huh? Was my name said? Was it you little gnome? Was it you who has spoken to me?
"Huh?" I asked, lowering my head down. "I'm…"
"Chicken," the teacher said in a Chicken type voice. You know, from Cow and Chicken?
"JAKE!"
I began to snore and my head banged down on the desk.
"Jake!"
"Jaaaake!"
"I'm awake, mommy!" I cried, snorting.
The class giggled. Marco fell out of his chair almost.
I kinda half smiled and blushed and kinda half wanted to kill Marco.
As the teacher made her way down the aisle and to the board, Marco was giggling and snorting.
As she picked up a marker, I noticed Marco hard at work. Was he into math that much?
He giggled ever so often, paused and held his paper away. Oh. No.
He passed it to a girl next to him. She began snort and she put her head down.
She passed it to this boy named Robert. Robert looked, laughed and passed. The paper went around till it came to me, since I sat in the back of the last row.
I could have killed Marco right then. The paper had a crudely drawn stick man with his head slumped over something that could only be a desk. Next it, Marco had written the word "Jake" and had an arrow pointing to the stick man.
Just as I was about to fling it, I noticed text on the bottom. It read, "I did not draw this."
Oh, yes you did.
I glanced at Marco. He was hard at work again. Probably drawing the class drowning in my drool.
Marco snickered loudly and then contained himself.
He passed this note the other way this time. It still wouldn't reach me in time.
The girl next to him, a girl in glasses and a maroon sweater. She frowned disapprovingly. Then laughed.
The brown haired boy laughed.
Everyone laughed. If it were another picture of me, I'd kill Marco. He would be dead soon.
The teacher was writing some hard equation on the board.
The blonde next to me gave me the note.
"Here, Jake," she giggled.
I felt a sinking feeling.
I opened the note carefully. I looked at it; it said the teacher's name in bold letters at the top. Underneath, it read: "Resemblance, huh?" Then there was a hideous picture of a monkey wearing a floral pattern jumper, like the teacher was wearing. The teacher didn't look like that. She was about twenty-seven, and very beautiful.
I laughed. Good old Marco.
I forgave him. I walked up to the front of the class and tried to deposit the note in the wastebasket. The teacher glanced up. She marched over to me and gave me a stern look.
She held out her hand. "Note, please." I smiled in a suck-up manner. She tossed her long brunette hair when she twirled around to her desk.
She opened the note. Her eyes widened. Her mouth formed a small frown.
I had made a beeline for my desk. I went back to my work.
A few moments later, she called my name. "Jake, come here, please."
I walked up to her desk. D-day.
"This is your hand-writing. And your signature."
I looked down at the note. It was the complete duplicate of my handwriting!
"I'll see you after class."
As I considered flinging my head and hands back and screaming in a quite dramatic manner, the bell rang.
My eyes must have been glowing red, because two girls gave me odd looks as they walked out. I must have looked odd.
"Marco," I said through gritted teeth. "Dies. Enjoy the few minutes of life you have, little buddy."
As I got my stuff ready, Marco and some other kids walked past my desk row.
"It was my best work, wasn't it?" Marco said, batting his eyelashes and putting his hand on his chest. "I put my all into it."
I considered lashing out at Marco.
"Jake," the teacher said. She was sitting at her desk, sorting papers. "Can I see you? Right now?"
The world stopped. "Uh…"
I grabbed my bookbag and walked over to her desk.
As soon as I reached her desk, the lights went low and music played. The teacher (Mrs. Will) jumped on her desk. She spread out her arms and a skimpy outfit magically appeared. She rolled over some more and took her hand and touched my cheek.
"I want you Jake," She said. "I want you now."
"Uh…"
She began to sing. She jumped up. "I'm in love…with the perfect guy, he's of so sweet. His name is Jake and my heart he can keep."
"Okay…"
"I'm madly, oh so madly, in loooove with you," she said. "My sweet little Jake, I'd die without you…"
"Jake…"
The fantasy ended. She was waving her hand in my face.
"Jake. I'd like to see you about something," she said, shuffling papers. "Here. Here is that math quiz. I may only be a substitute, but if there is one thing I know, it's math. You failed."
As simple as that, she said it. "Oh and another thing I wanted to speak to you about is this note. Jake, as I said, I don't know all of you students with me being a sub and all, but I know this isn't like you Jake. And I matched up your handwriting. Sorry, but it is a perfect match."
She set the paper. "I'm going to have to discuss this later. I have somewhere to be and it's lunch." She and I left the room.
Oh, well. I had about one hour or so of life. And so did Marco, the little…
I made my way to the lunch room. I spotted Marco sitting in the far corner of cafeteria by himself.
Dingo.
I got my lunch and set it down next to Marco.
He looked at me, I looked at him, and I sat down.
We never removed our eyes from others.
"So," I said. "The pic was a big hit, huh?"
"Oh?" Marco said, looking up. "Huh? Oh, oh yeah. It was pretty good huh?"
I stared at him. "What do you have against me?"
"Nothing. I just found this as an opportunity to show my ever-growing creativity. It's art."
"Since when are stick men considered art?" I asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow or three.
Marco shrugged. "Don't take it the wrong way, Jake."
Suddenly, I began strangle Marco. He began to try to scream, but he couldn't. He began to slowly die.
"Oh no!" Someone screamed as Marco slumped in his chair.
"Someone get the nurse!"
"He's dead!"
I neared the lunch room. I found Marco sitting with a bunch of friends. So, he wasn't by himself. Gee, didn't that make things easier?
"Hi," I said, setting my tray down. "Hi."
"Hello," Marco said brightly. "Whatcha' doing?"
Poor fellow,
I thought. Doesn't know what's happening."The drawing. The note," I snapped. "Hm, hm, hm. The scream, 'Marco! Marco! Marco' in a quite annoying manner, do they not?"
"Do they do," Marco said. "I'm not sure what possessed me to do it, but I wish it would happen again. This way, I could be popular."
I did it. I all out punched Marco. In the shoulder.
"Awww, Jake, getting affectionate, huh?"
I got up, raised my fist and –
"My nose!"
I turned to see a very big child standing behind me.
I put my arm around him. "So this guy walks into a bar…"
He punched me before I got to the punch line. That jerk. I went sprawling back and landed on a tray. My tray. I knocked over the milk and it went all over my butt.
Everyone around me including Marco laughed.
"Jerks," I muttered as I left the cafeteria.
As I left, I spun round.
"Watch it!" A red headed girl, in an orange t-shirt, with glasses, knocked into me. Her beef and noodles with tomato sauce spilled out… on me!
"My lunch!" she groaned. She glared at me intensely through her glasses. "You moron! My lunch is gone! I'm out of money!"
I dug into my pocket. "Here's two dollars. Can that cover it?"
She snatched it away from me. "Thanks Buster." She stalked away.
"Oh great," I muttered. "Beef. Noodles. And…"
I groaned. Sauce. I was wearing a white tee shirt too. I bought a pizza and went to my gym locker. I had a shirt in there. I changed and went to English class, which was starting.
Marco wasn't in my class. Thank God.
During an assignment, (a writing thing. Sheesh. I can't write!) the intercom blared out, "Mrs. Rimes?"
"Yes?" said my teacher, peering from over her glasses, that sat on her nose.
"Send Jake to my office please."
Oh, lord. Mr. Chapman!
I walked down the hall, swung a left and entered the room.
"Jake."
"Mr. Chapman."
"How are you today?"
"Fine." I sat down on a big chair in front of him.
"I found out something. You're an Andalite bandit."
Icy finger rapped around my heart. "What?" I screamed in a Tweety bird voice.
"No… shall I say Animorph?"
Fear seized me.
He stood up. Three Hork-Bajir entered from the closet. Heaven knows how they all fit in there.
Two mean looking cops came from the restroom. Controllers.
"Boys, frisk him."
They rushed over.
"He may be armed," he said, in a cold, but smug voice.
They opened a container. Inside was a Yeerk.
"Our best!" he cackled.
"Noooooooo!" I screamed as it was lowered in my ear.
I looked up from my notebook. What if that really happened? What if I was captured? What a horrid scenario!
I walked to his office.
Dang.
All he wanted to tell me was I had detention for two weeks.
Dang.
After the bell rang, I was too happy. Nothing bad could happen now. I mean, hadn't I suffered enough?
I failed two tests, got two weeks detention, and laughed at in class, bombarded with today's lunch special. And the gorgeous sub hates me.
I walked home. Happy to be alive.
A Mercedes drove past me. I ignored it. Until it drove through a behemoth mud puddles and splashed mud on the bottom of my jeans. My new clean jeans.
At least it wasn't on my shirt. It had taken enough.
I walked in the house with the undying stench of a bad day afoul of me.
My parents were home. I walked up stairs.
"Jake?" I spun around.
"Yeah?"
"Your teacher just called-"-oh no! -"And told us about what happened today. You also got two weeks of detention and failed two tests!" said my dad.
My mother shook her head in disgust. "You have mud on your clean new jeans! Go take them off. I need to wash them."
"Well, we heard all about it and we came up with a suitable punishment."
The third degree!
"You are grounded for a week young man. No go upstairs and wash the mud off of you and do your homework."
I trudged upstairs.
And tripped. I went sprawling.
The sting in my chin went away. Tom walked by.
"Hi, Jake," he laughed.
I frowned. A little less apathy, a little more empathy!
And went into my room, miserable, utterly dejected and gloomy. What a horrible, no good, very bad day.
Shower. That's what I needed. I needed a shower.
I grabbed a towel and walked in. The hot water ran over my body like syrup on pancakes.
I began to hum a song that was stuck in my head.
"This kiss…" I sang softly. Oh what the hey? Let's sing!
Soon I found my self screaming out Faith Hill.
"…It's perpetual bliss! It's unthinkable! This kiss! This kiss! Ahhh! Unsinkable! This kiss this kiss! Unstoppable! This kiss! This kiss!" I belted out.
I submerged feeling renewed. All my problems. Down the drain.
Ah.
I put on my robe and headed down.
There she stood.
Oh, no! Cassie.
She was in hysterics. Laughing with her body.
I gulped. "You heard me?"
"How about this…'this perpetual bliss! This kiss! This Kiss!' oh you were so good."
"Um…"
She winked. "Nice robe."
I blushed.
"Here's your notebook. Bye. Jake."
She left. Oh, man, oh man. It could get worse!
It was time for dinner. I went down in (clean) jeans and a shirt. My hair was a bit ruffled and stood on my head. I hadn't any shoes on and who cared?
"Hey, Dad," I said as I sat down. "What's for dinner, ma?"
Tom raised an eyebrow. "And why are you Mr. Happy Sunshine?"
"Bad day. Trying to make me feel better."
"Okay…" Tom said, picking at his food.
We had chicken legs and breast, mashed potatoes with gravy, glazed carrots and green beans.
Not very original, but heck, it was food.
I shoveled a spoonful of taters wit gravy in my mouth. As I swallowed, I instantly felt sick. The gravy and potatoes ran down my throat like lumpy, runny, thick, hot cough syrup. I felt my insides heave. I mean, major heave.
I did and did it well. I puked. Out it went and down to the floor.
Tom and the family looked at me. Tom kinda stared at me. He dropped his fork on his plate and pushed it away. "Well, there goes my appetite."
"I'm sorry," I croaked.
"It's okay," Mom said. "Are you feeling sick?"
I hid a smile and puked again.
"I'd say yes," Tom said.
"You're going straight to bed, little mister," Mom said, ushering me upstairs.
"Poor wittle Jakey," Tom said in mock sympathy. "Awwww!"
I shot him a look that read "You are dead."
I went to bed. Didn't do my homework. I felt horrible. Well, the icing on the cake. Stomach virus. I really was sick. I didn't really feel that bad, my mom bought it.
Sunlight poured into the room. I groaned. Another day.
My mom knocked on the door. "Jake? Up?"
My throat ached. "Yeah."
She stepped in. I looked at the clock. 8:00?! I was late.
She felt my forehead. "No school today."
YES! What a great day!
I could get on the 'Net, watch TV. When you're sick, punishments don't apply. I grinned.
Then my stomach heaved.
"You're also going to see the doctor today."
"What?" I was busted.
Then all of a sudden, a pang of pain ripped through my head. Ow…ow…ow…
Oh no! I really was sick. What a great day this would be!
THE END
