A/N: Yeah, I had no idea what the heck Jerome was doing in the girls' bathrooms, so I had to make something up. (: And yes, Jerome's my favorite! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Jerome. Or House of Anubis.
French Tests and Bathroom Stalls
"All right, students. Put on your headphones. The test is about to begin."
I take a deep breath. Okay, I can do this. Of course I can do this, I'm Jerome Clarke. I completely beast at French, I always have. The only thing, actually, I kind of suck at, is Algebra. But of course nobody needs to know that.
The test starts, and I hear the babbling of some random French dude in my ears. French people are so annoying. It's like they have to talk fast in order to make themselves heard or something, when they're already yelling in the first place. I identify specific words in what the random French dude's saying, and blah-blah-blah, blah-blah-blah. It's very simple, really.
I pause between questions to brush my bangs out of my face. Beautiful as my hair is, sometimes it does get a little bit in the way. As I move my bangs, I happen to catch a glimpse of that brilliant chick Mara. I make a mental note that I need to find some dirt on her, right when I see her furtively glance back and furtively glance ahead and then she starts to write Mick Campbell at the top of a second test.
Let me repeat that for dramatic emphasis.
And then she starts to write Mick Campbell at the top of a second test.
I can't help it. "Mara, Mara, Mara," I mutter to myself, hoping nobody hears me. Hey, at least I finally found some dirt on her. But what could she possibly do for me that I can't do for myself? I prefer to lean on myself rather than anyone else. Everyone I've trusted ended up turning down the Brutus vs. Caesar path. (Yes, I just compared myself to Julius Caesar. Brilliant, right?)
Then I go back to the French test. Oops, I missed a couple of questions. I would ask Mrs. Andrews to go back and replay it, but I don't want to look like Mick Campbell of all people for one thing, and she kind of hates me. I think she knows I'm the one that stole her scarf a few months ago. Oh well. My image is only tarnished for her, though. Everyone else seems to like me the same. The teachers, that is. Out of the students, the only one that likes me is Alfie. Sigh. Being a teacher's pet for every teacher isn't the best way of making friends with other teenagers. Especially when they're, you know, teenagers.
Fantastic, I missed another question. I check off the least-used letters, which happen to be B and C. For some reason Mrs. Andrews seems to like As. Probably because her last name starts with an A.
The rest of the French test passes fairly quickly. I think I've done well on it. I think when I get it back and make some copies, it'll sell for a nice price.
On my way out, I see Mara, casually snatching Mick's real test and crumpling it up to throw it in the trash can. Perfect! I couldn't have asked for a better opportunity. I grab it from the trash and try to remove all the wrinkles. I'll need evidence when I confront Mara later, back at Anubis House.
But right now, I really have to pee. So I head to the nearest boys' bathroom, naturally. For some reason, a bunch of dudes are gathered right outside the bathroom door. "Move," I say, pushing my way through. "Get out of the way."
I push open the door. Oh, that's disgusting. I quickly back out, tripping over some underclassmen on my way. "Good idea," I tell them, and turn around. I go to check the other bathroom now, but there's another large line outside the door. Shit, now I really have to pee! At least this line is just waiting for all the guys to get out of there. But I really do not want to wait. To tell the truth, I kind of had to go since the beginning of the French test.
What am I to do now? I'm not going to wait! I decide that I should go to the least-used girls' bathroom. Yeah, I should definitely go there, unless I want photos of me with wet pants circulating around the school.
So I sneak down the hall, past the rather creepy new teacher Mr. Winkler's room (I need to tarnish my image for that guy!), and tiptoe into the least-used girls' bathroom. Thankfully, nobody else is inside. I scurry along to the second stall and lock myself inside, satchel and all.
Then there are footsteps. Oh snap.
"That's what he said, Mara! He literally said she's buried! It's kind of scary, Mara. I think Victor may have killed her!" A pause. "You do believe me, don't you, Mara?"
I HAVE TO PEE!
"Of course I believe you."
"Oh, no you don't!"
"Patricia!"
I'm torn between wanting Mara to leave and wanting her to stay. I need to confront her but my bladder requires emptying. Why did I drink an entire can of soda at breakfast? Why couldn't I have been normal and drink half a cup of orange juice like Alfie did?
More footsteps, and then a phone starts ringing, probably Mara's. I couldn't have asked for a better opportunity. And in the words of Mark Twain, let us close the curtain of charity on this case.
The phone stops ringing and I'm done. Thank God. I readjust myself and turn around, wondering if it's Mara or Patricia out there. I grab a roll of toilet paper to make it look a little bit more like I'm rooting around for extra rolls of toilet paper to perpetrate some awesome prank, and then I step out of the stall.
"Hello, Mara."
"Jerome? What are you doing in the girls' toilets, you creep?"
I would tell her my reasons, which happen to be:
1. I really had to pee, okay?
2. The third guys' bathroom is like right next to Mr. Winkler's room and he's way too sketch for my comfort.
3. I've never been in a girls' bathroom before and I was curious.
4. I've never been in a girls' bathroom before and I want to be able to tell Alfie I've been there done that.
5. I've always wondered what the heck girls talk about in there.
But I don't feel like embarrassing myself in front of a potential victim today. "Mara, Mara, Mara." I hold up Mick's real test, smiling as I lean against the stall. "What's the French word for 'cheat'?"
