Chapter One: Dances and Doodles
The gentle spring sun shone thru the windows of Lindbergh Elementary, the golden rays casting the classroom in a soft golden glow. The children inside sat in silence, awaiting the dismissal bell with bated breath. All except for one. Jimmy sat at his desk, sketching out the prototype for his latest invention. He brushed away a few stray eraser shavings as he surveyed the drawing.
"Psst, Jimmy," whispered Sheen, tapping him on the shoulder. "Why are you doodling? You could be using this precious free time to catch up on your sleep!"
Jimmy held up his hand to shush his maniacal whispers. "It's not a doodle, Sheen," he explained, proudly showing Sheen his drawing. "It's the plans for my newest invention. I call it th--"
"Let me guess," interrupted Cindy. "The Gonna Kill Us 900?" She high-fived Libby as both of them began to laugh to themselves.
"Ha ha, very funny," Jimmy replied sarcastically. "Actually it's--"
Carl spoke up suddenly. "Does it involve llamas?"
"No," Jimmy sighed in exasperation. "It's a--"
Once again, he was interrupted. This time by the entrance of Principal Willoughby.
"Good afternoon, children," he said in a singsong voice. "The school board approved our new budget so that means we can have a spring dance!" All the girls in the classroom cheered in excitement while the boys groaned.
"Come on!" Jeered Sheen. "Who wants to go to some boring dance? Why can't we use the extra coinage for something important? Like Ultralord tattoos!! But nooooo, we have to spend it on girly things like dances!" He dropped onto his desk dramatically.
Libby looked at him. "I think it's a good idea."
Immediately, Sheen perked up and looked at Libby. "As do I, my Ultra Queen!" He winked at her.
"Ugh, I'm with Sheen on this one," Jimmy said, blinking as he agreed with Sheen. "We should be using this money for new textbooks."
Cindy leaned over to where he sat. "Neutron, no one wants new textbooks. Besides, we need a dance."
Jimmy shook his head. "Dances are not a necessity. I happen to think that our textbooks are extremely out-of-date."
"Well no one cares what you think!" She taunted.
Jimmy decided to drop the argument, lest they both end up in trouble. He sighed as he thought about the dance. There'd be food, punch, loud music, people with their dates…
Wait, he thought, Tradition dictates that one usually attends a dance with a date. Who am I supposed to ask? Ugh, something tells me this dance isn't going to go well.
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AuthorNote: This story was co-written by RetroChica from I had no room to put it in the summery. Just to let you guys know, I'm not just writing this myself. Reviews and half of the credit go to her as well! So, this chapter was written by her.
