So, about that Professor thing. xD Then I think it's for college. Hmmmmm. I have a pretty good, pretty bad memory. *evil giggles* =D
After gym, we walked back into the proper locker rooms. It was a pretty close game between 1 and 2, but the opposing team triumphed. I tried to sound like a good sport, but inside I wanted to smack the enemy with a cane like an old grandma.
But that was then, this is now.
I changed out of the clothes 'Bulla' had lent me and into the familiar clothes Cece had forced me to wear. The truth is, I was pretty nervous to give back 'Bulla's' shoes and shorts because it was embarrassing to ask someone for something and you didn't even know them. I slowly tied my laces, pretending to be super concentrated on them.
"Hey, Pan," 'Bulla' said. She smiled.
"Hi," I said. Slowly, I got up, having no idea I was clutching 'Bulla's' gym stuff in my hand. 'Bulla' kept moving her eyes back and forth between me and her things and that's when I got the clue that she wanted them back. "Oh, sorry!" I said. Clumsily, I handed her back her shorts and running shoes. One of the shoes fell to the floor and I dived down and picked it right up and handed it back.
"Thanks," I said, moving a piece of hair out of my face.
"No problem," she replied as she tucked her things under her arm. Then, she looked back at me and said, "Tomorrow's my birthday. Wanna come over for my party? You can invite Celeste and Marie too! I was going to invite them anyway, but I had no idea how to say it, but can you do it for me? Please?"
It was a lot of words and all I did was nod as she went along.
"Thanks!" 'Bulla' said as she hugged me. It wasn't an awkward hug, more like a friendly hug. She skipped off, not telling anyone else about her birthday party.
I looked at the floor and picked up my backpack.
Outside was much warmer than it was at the beginning of the period. The crowd of chattering girls waited in front of the locker room until the bell rang. When the time came, they all rushed off to their next period and I realized Bulla hadn't come out yet, so I waited.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three minutes passed and she didn't come out. I was beginning to get a feeling that something went terribly wrong. I had no choice but to go back inside the locker room to find Bulla.
"Bulla?" I asked, looking down the rows of lockers. There was no one in the locker rooms which probably meant it was the gym teachers' free period. I continued looking. Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm and yanked it hard. I felt my shoulder jerk harshly and a shot of pain went through my shoulder.
"What are you doing here?" a lady shouted. "You looking for something?"
I nodded quickly.
She threw my hand down and I cradled it.
"What are you looking for? Education is the key to your future! You must never skip classes! I'll help you," the lady said.
I blinked several times.
She looked back at me with her fierce black eyes and yelled, "Well, don't sit there! What do you need?!"
"I-I. . ."
Somewhere in the room, I heard a faint sound.
I paused. The freaky locker room lady did too. I think she heard the sound as well. Again, that sound was there and we rushed to the locker that was making the sound.
"Stay here," the lady said as she took off. I stared at the locker number which was 454. Vaguely, I remembered that number from somewhere. The lady came back just as quickly as she had left. Her bun was tied on tightly, but strands of hair escaped its tie. "7, 23, 11," she spoke, reading off the binder she had brought with her.
"What?" I asked and then the bell rang. So much for school.
"Punch in that number, you crazy child."
I didn't resist. Something about that woman was sergeant-like. I turned the dial twice to the right, passing 0 two times and landed on the number 7. Then, I turned the dial left once, passing 0 once and landed on 23. With the last spin to the right, I landed on 11 and the lock clicked open. I opened the locker door and out came the pink-haired girl I had been looking for.
"Bulla?!" I shouted at the girl who was sprawled on the floor. I hadn't realized I had said her real name out loud, but this was an exception. What the flipping unicorns was she doing inside her locker? Did she not understand the concept that the things go into the locker, not the person?
Bulla got to her feet and brushed off her hands.
"Thanks," she said.
"What were you doing in there?!" the lady shrieked. Obviously, she was ding-dang mad.
"I don't know," Bulla said.
I raised an eyebrow, but Bulla shot me a death glare that only I saw.
"Excuse us, we need to get to class," Bulla said with no emotion.
"Fine," the psycho lady said.
Bulla shouldered her bag and we walked out of the locker rooms to our next class. Something else caught my attention. We walked by an office that the creepy lady came out of and I read the plaque that had the teacher's name on it. It said 'CHICHI SON, GYM TEACHER'.
Both of us raced out of the locker rooms to our next class, which Bulla was racing to like it was a zombie apocalypse.
"Why were you in the locker?" I asked, thinking it was the best time to ask this question.
"This is not the best time for questions," Bulla replied.
We ran pretty fast –both of us –and slowed to a walk as we entered the building.
"Excuse me, girls, what are you doing?! Classes were in session 20 minutes ago!" a man said. He looked like a retired WWE wrestler. He was tall and buff.
Pan the amazing misdirectioner kicked in.
"Sorry, sir! We're new and we kind of got lost when we were back in gym. I think we went the opposite direction," I said innocently. It wasn't a total lie. "Would you mind telling us where –" I swiped Bulla's schedule out of her hands and jogged the 10 feet to him– "This is?" I showed him the 4th period class.
"Oh, it's over here. Follow me," he said. He walked past me and Bulla and I followed him. We walked into an undiscovered section of the school and the man opened the door.
The teacher looked up from her papers.
"Hello, Ms. Bombey," the man said as he motioned us to come inside.
"Hello, Mr. Samson," Ms. Bombey said as she took off her metal-rimmed glasses and set them down. "Do you need help with something?"
I took this chance to examine the classroom because someone at the far table was waving wildly at us. I tried to shrink and blend into the shadows. I wanted so bad to hide my face like a turtle can.
"Goten, sit back down and do your lab!" Ms. Bombey said acerbically.
"These are our new students, Celeste and Pan. I found them in the hallways trying to find this classroom. I have to admit, the science pod is hard to find," Mr. Samson said and chuckled at his own words. I could tell Mr. Samson and Ms. Bombey had a thing.
"Well, thank you, Mr. Samson," Ms. Bombey said and she winked at him and made a broad, lipsticked smile.
A chill ran down my spine. Can I just go in peace now?
"Girls, you can sit at the tables back there. I'll get some tools for you girls. Once again, thank you, Mr. Samson," Ms. Bombey said. With a nod, Mr. Samson left the room.
I walked with my backpack slung over one shoulder and walked to the table far in the back –away from Goten and away from the teacher. It's my new safe haven.
"So, what happened? Why were you in the locker?" I asked.
Bulla rolled her eyes. "I wanted to see if I could fit in there and then someone accidently slammed it shut and the bell rang," she said.
I cocked up an eyebrow, trying to figure out if it was true or not.
"That's it!" Bulla said, raising her hands up.
"Here you go, girls," Ms. Bombey said –or should I say soon-to-be-MRS. SAMSON. She set down some weird, wicked-looking, sharp tools. "You may do what you like; I don't have time for explaining again."
That was rude.
For the finale, she slammed down a dissecting tray with a dead, wet frog.
Bulla wheezed and coughed like it was toxic and I laughed out loud.
"There is nothing funny about dead frogs," Ms. Bombey said. She turned around and walked to the front of the classroom, probably hating us already. I don't mind. I've been a goodie-goodie for too long.
Ms. Bombey didn't speak loud enough for us to hear, so I didn't even try to listen. I picked up one of the scalpels and started poking the frog's stomach. Its skin was pretty tough.
"Stop, it might explode!" Bulla cried meekly.
I gripped the scalpel like a kindergartener holding a crayon and started poking the frog harder. The belly was abnormally huge, which was hysterically funny.
Bulla whimpered, trying to brace herself if it did explode, which I doubted.
Finally, I stabbed harshly the frog and it actually did explode.
"AHHHHHHHHHH!" Bulla screamed, hopping up and down, shaking her hands and spewing frog guts everywhere. My face was covered in cool liquid and my shirt was full of who-knows-what. I burst out laughing and the bell rang.
We didn't get in trouble; it was an 'honest mistake' and 'all Ms. Bombey's fault for not giving us directions'.
I walked down the hallways covered in frog guts to meet up with Marron.
"I told you so!" Bulla said.
"Told me so, what?" I asked.
"The frog would explode!"
I giggled and we saw Marron at the end of the hallway.
"Ew, what have you guys been doing?!" Marron asked as she looked at us up and down.
"Setting off frog bombs," I joked.
"Nice one, Pan," Marron said as she rolled her eyes. "Let's go home."
"We can't go home," I said.
"Why not? We can leave for lunch, you know. Well, I can, but you guys must. Heck, you guys smell like frog," Marron said, pinching her nose. I had no idea you could leave campus. Yay, Orange Star High School and boo, Johnson's Modeling Academy!
Soon, the frog guts begun to dry and chipped off. I picked them off my shirt.
"Pan, stop! You're disgusting." Marron grimaced.
I stuck out my tongue. Marron took out the key to our mobile home and inserted it in the keyhole. Bulla dashed inside to get a change of clothes and hurried to the bathroom before I could.
The frog on me was beginning to itch.
"I'm going outside," I said.
"Why?" Marron asked as she sat on one of the barstools, spinning herself around.
"There's a hose outside, right?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
I ran outside and looked for the hose which wasn't so hard to find. I turned the knob to the left and the hose spewed out water. I switched the nozzle to 'shower' and sprayed myself in cold water.
"What the heck are you doing?" Goten asked.
I dropped the hose and looked at the person through my damp hair.
"GET OUT OF MY SHOWER, GOTEN!" I screamed.
Goten looked around nervously. I stole the opportunity to run inside and slammed the door shut.
"Goten's here," I said, panting.
"Goten?" Marron asked, looking up from her book. "That stalker."
"Goten?!" Bulla asked, peeking out from the bathroom.
I heard the hose turn off and a few seconds later, someone knocked on the door.
Marron walked to the door with stomps. She turned the doorknob and swung open the front door.
"I keep telling you, go awa-"
It wasn't Goten standing there in the doorway, it was Trunks.
"Ha, she does have something for you, Goten," Trunks said over his shoulder.
"Yeah," Goten replied.
"No, I don't now go away!" Marron shouted.
"We only came to give you information of Bulla's birthday party, geez. Calm down blonde," Trunks said. Obviously, he didn't like this task, but now, I think he finds it amusing.
"We don't want to go to your stinking party! Tell her that, okay? Now, bye!" Marron said and she slammed the door, except it was still opened. Between the door and the frame, Trunks' fingers poked out. He pushed the door opened once again and stepped inside this time.
"Listen, you're going. All of you. If not, she'll sue you," Trunks said.
"Sue me? Why? That's the most stupidest thing I ever heard!" Marron said.
"She's the daughter of Bulma."
"True, true," Marron said, suddenly in agreeing mode. I pretended to be listening, but in reality, I wasn't. Finally, I could breathe, but only because the two guys left.
"That's just great," Marron said tossing her hands up in the air sarcastically.
"Well, it might be fun," I suggested. Then I added, "We can try to find out who this Bulla is."
Marron only nodded, but I could tell she wasn't all into the idea. Seriously though, I wanted to go! Even if that girl is an imposter, she seems nice and cool. Besides Marron and Bulla, I have another friend at the school. No, I do not consider Goten a friend. He's more of a stalker, if you ask me.
The bathroom door unlocked and out stepped Bulla, steam flowing behind her.
"Goten, I'm here!" she said abroad like a princess waiting for her prince charming, except the fact is, her 'prince charming' left several minutes ago.
"He left several minutes ago," I said, bursting her bubble.
She sank to her knees and began to cry dramatically. She is a horrible actress. Compared to me.
"We better head out or you'll be late again," Marron mumbled as she turned for the door.
"How did you know about that?" I asked, following.
"Wait for me, guys! I need to brush my hair!" Bulla said.
"You could've done it in the first 40 minutes you were in the bathroom, now let's go!" I said.
"Meanies."