Author's Note:
Let's see what more trouble -er, I mean... adventures- these three can get themselves into!
Chapter XII
The days passed by and the chill of winter seemed to be growing bitterer. Ashir continued assigning her tasks to Jake and Artie, and the two males began gaining more self-confidence.
"So you say that you're actually getting some progress out of your little social experiment?" Morgan asked her roommate soon after returning from another nightly, Knights in Black Satin gig.
"It's not a social experiment, Morgan, but yes…" Ashir smiled. "They are doing well in their training. Sooner or later, I think something is actually going to happen."
Ashir's words awarded a long laugh from Morgan.
When she had finally stopped Morgan looked up at Ashir, "Yeah... I'd pay to see that."
Later that day...
The lunch bells echoed through Worcestershire's stony halls. The medieval teenagers all stomped out of their classrooms, running towards the academy's cafeteria.
"What's the rush?" Ashir glanced into the locker beside her own.
Jake was rummaging through his schoolbooks. He peered out of his locker and gave Ashir a long flat expression.
Ashir stuffed the key to her locker into her rucksack, "I'm just saying… why rush when today's special is 'Crème de la Bogey'?"
"Ooh be still, my tingling taste buds…" Artie muttered sarcastically as he joined his two best friends at their lockers.
He was thickly covered in tanned dust; much like that from the jousting stadium's ground.
Ashir looked at his dusty uniform with wide hazel-brown eyes; but Artie simply stated with a flat expression, "Last class was jousting practice… I was the chosen target for all of the jousters."
"Even the bad ones?" Jake asked while pressing all of his body weight and muscles against his bulging locker door, trying to force it closed.
"Especially the bad ones…" Artie grumbled.
Ashir folded her arms around her waist. "I guess my request to the principal for switching human targets with wooden ones has been denied, then..." She let out a sigh. "Well… I suppose it could've been worse…" Ashir shrugged as-a-matter-of-factly, "You could've landed in a mud puddle like last week…" she brushed the tanned dust gingerly off of Artie's red uniformed shoulders.
"But it was raining all of last week…" Artie groaned, then noticed what Ashir was doing.
Artie and Ashir locked gazes and laughed awkwardly, trying to break the silence between each other. Ashir stopped dusting Artie's shoulders and her cheeks reddened to a soft magenta from her inattentiveness.
Jake struggled to close his locker door. Tiny beads of sweat trickled down the deep wrinkle between Jake's blonde eyebrows as he fitted the cast iron key into its hole and twisted it shut.
"Phew…" Jake flicked off the sweat drops, "No Problem-o," he smiled proudly, folding his arms over his chest, "I'd like to see Lance try to stuff someone into this locker…"
"Hopefully it won't be one of us…" Artie pointed out.
Jake grasped his worn-out rucksack and the trio of best friends walked towards the school cafeteria for lunch.
Upon entry to the academy's eatery they viewed a large line of depressed students that were preparing to eat their disguising gruel and such.
"Crème de la Bogey!" The academy oddball announced throughout the cafeteria, he was smacking a large cast-iron pot with a long wooden spoon, "Just two shillings per serving, Crème de la Bogey! If it's French it's fancy!"
The trio of friends proceeded down the food line; each of them picked up their own battered wooden tray and thin metal plate.
Half-asleep lunch ladies served all of the students with: a ladleful of slop, a leg of mutton, a roasted fowl, and more humble slimy sludge.
Once they all reached the end of their disgusting journey, the cafeteria ladies then accepted the trio's shillings for their food and they picked up their kegs of watered-down ale.
Just ahead of Artie was Guinevere, who was always prone to putting on a show –being the most popular girl in the school- without actually being aware of it.
Guinevere gave the lunch lady two shining shillings and lifted her bowl lovingly to the cafeteria cooks.
One of the large ladies picked up one of her wooden ladles and filled Guinevere's wooden basin with a portly serving of Crème de la Bogey.
One of the school's window washers slipped from his high position at the cafeteria's grimy windows. As he fell, the window washer cleared a streak of grime from the window, which poured dusty amber rays of sunshine onto Guinevere, spotlighting her long golden locks.
'Everything's so perfect about her…' Artie thought to himself as he was enchanted by Guinevere's beauty.
Guin walked past Artie, who was still smitten by Guinevere's very admirable presence, "Oh, hey Artie," Guin greeted Artie plainly; a flat look in her sapphire-blue eyes.
Artie choked on his own words, unable to make anything comprehensible to greet the Fair Maiden.
"Guinevere, remember?" Guin reminded Artie -as if he had forgotten who she was- she sighed at the hopeless wonder in front of her, "We're in the same alchemy class…"
"Um…uh…" Artie was tongue-tied.
"Yeah well," Guinevere lifted up her bowl and prepared to leave, "I guess I'll see you around…" Guin stated with a hastened smile.
Guinevere slipped by him and rushed to her table of friends. She left with another "Loser" remark. Artie had blown it, once again…
Artie groaned, glaring down at his tray of slop. 'At least she acknowledged my existence…'
"Don't worry Artie," Ashir tried reassuring her friend as she joined him at the end of the food line, "You'll get your well deserved chance, some day…"
"Yeah," Artie stared at the table full of Fair Maidens, "…some day."
Artie turned around, but his tray bumped against a tall, uniformed chest. He looked up and dreaded what he saw.
Author's Note:
Previous readers (that is, those who've read the original version before the rewrite) might recognize this a bit, which means that the next update will likely be sooner!
MG#6