Love is Weird But It Makes You Feel All Warm and Tingly Inside!!
By: Kichara
Chapter 4- Damn Those Perverted Brit's!!
Wassup, all! Thanks so much for reading. Big thanks to SwEeTiNsAnItY, she be
so cool and Kichara luv her much. And you put my story up in your favorites!
You're so...so...NEAT-O!!!! *huggles her and gives her one of those party favor
thingies, the little neon-colored stick thing with the two balls on the end
that you gotta knock together* Do these things even HAVE a name? O.o Now
don't hurt yourself, dear. ^^ Wouldn't want you to not be able to write more
of your story cuz' you got a concussion by the little plastic ball thingies
on sticks.... And anybody who hasn't read SwEeT's story, you better do it
(it's on my favorites), or I'll have to stab you with my mighty spork of
doom and then finish you off with an empty box of Cheezits. I will, don't
make me do it!!!
Oh, qwik note, cuz I forgot to put it in at the end of the last chapter. My
very bestest friend, Lindsey, gave me the idea for raking the carpet,
because she actually DID do that. Shit you not. ^^
*sniff, sniff* I'm so sad. I gotta mean review! WAHHHH!!!! Why're you so
mean to me!!! I can't help it I'm deranged and creative! It's the way God
maaaaaaaade meeeee!!!! WAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Stupid person. Well, I think
Jar Jar Binks is Stupid, so there! *raspberry* May you be forever condemned
to the pit of angry toilets!!! *sniff, sniff* (Kichara needs a hug.)... (She
also needs to stop talking in third person. It's probably bad for her
health.)
Bugsygurl: Haha, glad you like Zim's...beefy-ness. But not Too beefy. I'm
going more for that Gene Starwind sorta physique. Mmmm, Gene...I named my car
Gene, cuz it's red, like Gene's purty hair. I was gonna name it Toya (after
Toya in Ayashi no Ceres), but I thought it woulda sounded weird, since it's
a Toyota and all. Uh, whatever. I love my car! Too bad it doesn't go. Poor
Gene, but at least he looks so pretty as a lawn ornament out there with the
weeds! ^^
Sen: I luv your reviews! Thanks for saying I made GIR all...GIR-like *whoosh,
insert dramatic sound effect here* And you said I'm a great writer! Skipidee
dee! And you liked my Zim with long hair idea!
Miracle Chick is kewl 2! *gives her a Tootsie pop wrapper. A red one* ^^
Your so nice and tootsie-pop-wrapper-givable! May the Swartz be with you!
Thanks to everyone else too (except for mean old Miz) like ArmandLeg *gives
out Cheezits to all*. Now sit back and enjoy. THE SPORK COMMANDS IT TO BE
SO!!!
4th period. The last period before lunch, meaning that students were always
bound to be more hyper than usual, eager to get out. Zim moodily observed
this fact as he slouched down in his seat at the back of the room,
absent-mindedly watching the babbling high-schooler's as they entered the
classroom, observing the door intently for Dib. The boy in question came in
by himself, eyes fixed to the ground. He looked up suddenly, as if drawn by
Zim's close stare, to lock eyes with the alien.
Zim blushed self-consciously and quickly moved his gaze to his desk, closely
inspecting the graffiti scribbled there as he waited for Dib to sit down.
The tardy bell rang, a long shrill screech that made loose papers on the
wall rattle and bring in a few straggling students that hurried to their
desks. Zim looked up from studying a carefully drawn heart that proclaimed
Hitari's love for Legolas to see their evil teacher, Mr. Zella, step in. A
tall man with a neatly trimmed short brown beard flecked with gray, and
wearing a pair of slacks and a long-sleeved Oxford shirt, he ran sharp brown
eyes over the class before announcing, "Welcome to Hell. We've got a busy
schedule ahead of us, so open up your Literature of Britain books to page
676 so we can get your daily torture session over and done with."
At the sound of his voice, all talking had respectfully ceased in the
classroom, and the only sounds now were the shuffling of books and creaking
of chairs as the students moved to obey. Zim dared to look over at Dib, who
was flipping through the tattered pages of the thick textbook and the alien
smiled to himself, ever so slightly, as he watched the back of the other's
head. How well he knew that back. Zim spent most of his time in class
staring at the wild hair.
How could something so simple be so fascinating? Those jagged ends of the
ebony hair ending in their crooked line just above Dib's collar. It was
still very similar to what it had been back when Zim had first met him,
still untidy with that cute scythe-like cowlick, with the single exception
in that Dib had grown it out in the back some. //I wonder how it feels. It's
so stiff-looking, but could it be soft...// The green-skinned youth blinked,
brow furrowing and his face settling into a light scowl. //Where did that
come from?//
Zim found it somewhat amusing, the fact that he would always study the other
in class, until Dib would turn his way. The alien would then automatically
lift his eyes to the ceiling. He'd undergone the same process for weeks now
and it was satisfying that he could keep the secret of watching his supposed
rival so well. Although it all felt unsatisfying in the fact that somewhere,
Zim felt that he WANTED Dib to realize the ritual. //How strange.//
Zim's squarish pupils traveled down to the title on the page. //Kubla Khan?
What in the name of Irk does that mean?//
"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree." Mr. Zella began reading aloud from the
front of the room, thick textbook cradled in his arms as he stalked from one
side of the room to the other. The poem went on to describe the beautiful
place known as Kubla Khan, with it's fertile ground and bright gardens.
"But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down down the green hill adwart a cedarn cover."
Dib blinked, eyebrows coming together in thought. //Deep romantic chasm?//
"And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As of this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain was forced."
The young man blinked, then blinked again, eyes moving from Mr. Zella to his
book, where he carefully looked over the words, then to Mr. Zella, and
finally back to his book to closely examine the words there. //That chasm
thing again. And pants? What the heck does fountain have...to...Oh my
God...// He could feel his face begin to burn, cheeks turning to crimson as
realization kicked in and he figured out exactly what this poem was about.
"Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honeydew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise." The slightly deranged and definitely evil
teacher slammed his book shut, a loud crack sounding in response. He looked
up at his class. "Does anyone know what this poem is about?"
The room was silent until Dib fell out of his chair with a loud crash, his
textbook falling and skidding across the floor as he tumbled to the tile.
Mr. Zella smirked at Dib's twitching figure. "I see at least Mister Membrane
has. For homework, I want a 200 word comp on your interpretation of Kubla
Khan, no exceptions, due tomorrow."
Dib unsteadily pulled himself back into his seat, and looked around for his
book, trying valiantly to calm his burning face. He found the book at his
nose-level, clasped in a gloved green hand and the boy looked up to Zim's
quizzical eyes, one narrowed as he studied his old rival in amusement and
curiosity as he held out Dib's book to the embarrassed boy. Dib took it
gratefully, avoiding Zim's gaze as the other headed back to his desk. //Damn
those perverted Brit's...// He hissed mentally, fidgeting with the layers of
thin cardboard that were the corner of his battered textbook.
"In other news I've got a wonderful announcement for you all. Time for
senior research papers!" Mr. Zella paused, waiting for the class' collective
groan to finish before continuing. "This is a major part of your senior
year, as well as your grade, and I expect you all to put your blood, sweat
and other bodily fluids into the effort. I've done the honor of picking out
your partners for you all, so finish your whining now so we can move on.
First I have Miss Tracy Smith with Mister Justin Davis. If you don't get
along now, you'd better get used to each other, real fast. Life's going to
be full of people you won't like; this is great practice for that. Next, we
have Miss Summer Orlando and Cheryl Sweet..."
Dib pressed the cool palm of his hand against the burning flesh of his
cheek, aiding in the process of cooling it back to normal. His thought began
to drift from the classroom, focusing on the past Saturday. He'd spent the
entire day at Zim's side, leaving only for a minute to grab his wet sneakers
and book bag from downstairs, hurrying back up with them in hand to sit back
at Zim's unresponsive side. How long had he stared at that prone figure, who
did nothing but sleep the entire day, falling into an almost hibernative
state. It'd been the most soothing thing Dib had done in a long time,
sitting with his knees tucked to his chest and watching his ex-rival and
current obsession take in long, sleep-ridden breaths, toned chest slowly
moving up and down.
The time had been so relaxing, giving Dib plenty of time to think over
things as he watched Zim's peaceful face, it's usual frown erased into a
smooth, sweet and innocent look. How mature they'd grown to be, giving up
their juvenile nature's years ago as their childish minds and bodies grew
into that of an adult's. The sound of his name broke Dib out of his daydream
in time to hear, "Mister Dib Membrane and Zim Nekri."
The paranormal-obsessed young man blinked, then swiveled his torso around to
look into Zim's face, which was as surprised as his own. Mr. Zella finished
off the list of names, regarding his class (more than half of them in a
stupefied state at the idea of working with their given partner) with a smug
look. He reached for a small stack of papers on his desk, "These," He
explained as he passed them out to the people at the front of the rows to
pass back, "Are a list of all the available topics. Get with your partner to
decide which one you want to do, and I want an answer by next class period."
Zim numbly took the paper that was handed back to him, glancing at the black
font before looking back at Dib. The human's brow was furrowed slightly as
he studied the paper and Zim was unable to suppress the smile that crept
unexpectedly to his lips at a sight he deemed quite...cute.
Memories came crashing down on him at the sight of Dib and his...cuteness;
more recent one's to be exact. It was hard to determine when Dib had been
the only thing occupying his mind, but the Irken did know it had been QUITE
a while. The previous Friday was a prime example. Zim, who SHOULD have been
hurrying home, as he didn't feel very good and was out in the rain that was
starting to pierce through his repellant and burn the sensitive flesh
underneath, had seen Dib hurry out of school and had decided, pushing far
against that thing called Reason to follow the boy home to ensure he got
there safely. It was hard to describe how angry he'd felt when he'd seen the
slender human pulled into the alley, back almost a block to avoid detection,
but it had been... a lot. And after he'd saved Dib, he'd had to force
himself to keep a cool exterior, lest Dib suspect something, when he'd
wanted nothing more than to pull the human close in a fierce...hug, yes that
was what it was called.
He'd started to feel so horribly dizzy at that point. He should have been
hurrying home, to dry himself off and rest his exhausted body, but he'd been
reluctant to leave. WHY? Zim ground his teeth together unconsciously as he
tried to sort out the dizzying thoughts. The bell rang, startling the alien
out of them as a soft cheer sounded from most of the class as they stood up
and headed for the door. The Irken shook his head to himself as he tucked
the topic paper into his textbook, looking up as he realized someone had
moved up to his desk.
"Hey Zim. Uh, do you...want to sit together at lunch? We can figure out what
to do our paper on." Dib asked, shifting from one foot to the other
uncomfortably.
"That sounds like a reasonable idea, worm-baby." Zim stood up, grabbing his
book and holding it at his side with a claw-like hand. Dib started walking
down the aisle and the alien followed closely behind, out of the near-empty
class and into the crowded hallway. There, he moved forward to walk
alongside the human, speaking only to stop Dib. "Here's my locker. "He
explained, stopping at one of the steel cabinets that lined the hallway,
motioning for Dib to stay still. The green-skinned boy fiddled with the
lock, banged on it three times, and the stubborn door reluctantly opened
with a loud creak.
The contents of the locker were very few, consisting of just a couple of
textbooks and Dib's cupcake tray and his shirt. Zim pulled out Dib's
belonging, handing them to the human. "Thank you for the use of your
garments. GIR liked the muffins." He placed his Language Arts book down with
the others, closing the locker and twisting the lock.
Dib pulled one of his arms out the backpack's straps, twisting it around
onto his hip to open it and place his returned items inside. He laughed,
"Well, glad HE did. I think they might've gone to waste otherwise." Zim
snorted in response, heading down the hall towards the cafeteria with Dib
close behind.
The food looked as un-appetizing as always, the boys found out as they went
to the lunch line. They paid for the greasy contents, then headed to the
table in the corner where Zim usually sat, completely empty for that fact.
Dib sat down next to Zim, who was poking experimentally at an off-white lump
of what Dib assumed was supposed to be mashed potatoes, and pulled out the
topic paper from his book bag, laying it down on the table for them to
study.
The human raised an eyebrow as he started to read them to himself. //The
inside of a ping-pong ball; The difference between Sporks and Foons;
Volcanic Pottery; Aerial sewage systems and their practicality; The usage of
Australian coral in Nepalese cuisine; Moon dairy farming; Martial arts
vegetables across the world; The presence of woodwork in stone masonry; THE
EXISTANCE OF GOD IN A UNIVERSE WITHOUT YOGURT?!!!!// "What the heck?" He
turned to look at Zim, who had one had propping his head up as he
scrutinized the paper thoughtfully. "Um, Zim?" He looked down to see 'Oxford
University.'
"Yes?" The artificial blue eyes looked up to Dib's true honey-colored one's.
Two girls walked by the two at that moment, dressed all in white dresses and
clutching bible's to their chests. They both had long, flowing blonde hair
and blue eyes, which were filled with tears at the moment. Wide berth was
given to them as they swooped about the cafeteria, as discussion about what
was wrong with the religion-obsessed girls was passed around. 'Oh, they were
in Mr. Zella's class first period. They figured out what Kubla Khan meant
and have been twitching all day and sprouting out psalms. Best idea to stay
clear away from them, more than usual. "By the way, Dib-human, what was your
malfunction during class?"
Dib's blush started up and he nervously played with his meatloaf. "Uh,
nothing. The poem just um, uh, yeah... Anyway, there's Oxford University.
It was one of the first colleges ever established. I bet we could get a lot
of info on it."
"Oh, I don't know. I was thinking about the 'Compare and Contrast the use of
breakfast cereals throughout religions of the world' one." Zim answered,
amused by Dib's reddened face and deciding not to push the idea at the
moment.
"WHAT?!" The tone was just a 'tad' exasperated.
Zim narrowed one eye. "What?"
"Oh, so why don't we just bring up how sprinkling of Froot Loops on cows in
Africa is similar to the ritual of bathing Buddha's in Rice Crispies?!" Dib
raised his arms frantically, trying to get his point across.
Which Zim didn't get. "Really? You humans have such odd rituals."
"I was being sarcastic."
"Oh." Zim pushed around his lump of potatoes, avoiding Dib's agitated gaze.
"Then we'll go along with your Oxford idea then."
Dib sighed, feeling bad for getting irritated at Zim. "Sorry, it's not you.
It's just that...these topics are ridiculous." He spooned some soggy green
beans into his mouth.
"I thought they sounded a bit odd." Zim nodded his head in agreement,
pushing his spoon into the potatoes and forming it into some odd shape.
"Oxford it is, then. Geez, why do we always seem to get stuck with the weird
teachers?"
"It's beyond my line of reasoning. Perhaps it's some higher being's idea of
a joke to place us in such odd situations in your planet's educational
system."
Dib chuckled. "Remember that one in 10th grade who was convinced she was a
sponge, every day for five minutes at exactly 1:30?"
Zim chortled, amused with the memory as he dug his spoon into the potatoes.
"It did put sort of a kink in the learning process didn't it?"
The bell rang, startling the two boys. Dib stood up first, looking down at
Zim, who was closely studying his potato sculpture, which faintly
resembled... "Zim? What's that supposed to be?"
Zim smirked as he stood up. "You. I think it has more brain matter, though."
The brunette threw a mock punch at Zim, who chuckled as he dodged out of the
way, heading towards the trash reciprocal with Dib close behind.
*~*~*~
JESUS, I'M FINALLY DONE! It's been sooo hectic lately, and the only time I
ever have to work on this is when my parents go out and I have to baby-sit.
And I'm not in the right frame of mind (not in much of a mind at all,
actually) when I'm watching over the family's demon-spawns. I can only get
anything done when they go to sleep. And oh, how they will stay up. Just to
torment my tortured soul.
Well, Kichara has been officially Jhonen-isized (DUM DUM!!!!). I just got
all of the Johnny the Homicidal Maniac's, and borrowed Squee from my friend
Mike. And now I have this.. Thing for Johnny. I WUV HIM!!! Yeah, don't
bother telling me I'm demented. it's already a well-known fact. Plans for a
Johnny/Devi romance are bouncing around in my head at this time, but I'm
determined to stick to this story to finish it.
Y'know, Kubla Khan actually IS a real poem, and believe it or not, so's Mr.
Zella. there really ARE people like this who exist. I'm not sure if I should
be elated or very, very scared.
Sigh, nobody said anything about my Zim-making-muffins idea. Well, *I*
thought it was cute. But then again, I also think snakes are quite adorable.
Many thanks to Lindsey and David, who helped with the topics. *snicker* I'm
very amused with them. This was a chapter for friends, with all my little
thingies put in there for them. Let's hope they catch them and write to tell
me how cool I am. ^^ FISHIE!!! *gnaws on a trout*
By: Kichara
Chapter 4- Damn Those Perverted Brit's!!
Wassup, all! Thanks so much for reading. Big thanks to SwEeTiNsAnItY, she be
so cool and Kichara luv her much. And you put my story up in your favorites!
You're so...so...NEAT-O!!!! *huggles her and gives her one of those party favor
thingies, the little neon-colored stick thing with the two balls on the end
that you gotta knock together* Do these things even HAVE a name? O.o Now
don't hurt yourself, dear. ^^ Wouldn't want you to not be able to write more
of your story cuz' you got a concussion by the little plastic ball thingies
on sticks.... And anybody who hasn't read SwEeT's story, you better do it
(it's on my favorites), or I'll have to stab you with my mighty spork of
doom and then finish you off with an empty box of Cheezits. I will, don't
make me do it!!!
Oh, qwik note, cuz I forgot to put it in at the end of the last chapter. My
very bestest friend, Lindsey, gave me the idea for raking the carpet,
because she actually DID do that. Shit you not. ^^
*sniff, sniff* I'm so sad. I gotta mean review! WAHHHH!!!! Why're you so
mean to me!!! I can't help it I'm deranged and creative! It's the way God
maaaaaaaade meeeee!!!! WAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Stupid person. Well, I think
Jar Jar Binks is Stupid, so there! *raspberry* May you be forever condemned
to the pit of angry toilets!!! *sniff, sniff* (Kichara needs a hug.)... (She
also needs to stop talking in third person. It's probably bad for her
health.)
Bugsygurl: Haha, glad you like Zim's...beefy-ness. But not Too beefy. I'm
going more for that Gene Starwind sorta physique. Mmmm, Gene...I named my car
Gene, cuz it's red, like Gene's purty hair. I was gonna name it Toya (after
Toya in Ayashi no Ceres), but I thought it woulda sounded weird, since it's
a Toyota and all. Uh, whatever. I love my car! Too bad it doesn't go. Poor
Gene, but at least he looks so pretty as a lawn ornament out there with the
weeds! ^^
Sen: I luv your reviews! Thanks for saying I made GIR all...GIR-like *whoosh,
insert dramatic sound effect here* And you said I'm a great writer! Skipidee
dee! And you liked my Zim with long hair idea!
Miracle Chick is kewl 2! *gives her a Tootsie pop wrapper. A red one* ^^
Your so nice and tootsie-pop-wrapper-givable! May the Swartz be with you!
Thanks to everyone else too (except for mean old Miz) like ArmandLeg *gives
out Cheezits to all*. Now sit back and enjoy. THE SPORK COMMANDS IT TO BE
SO!!!
4th period. The last period before lunch, meaning that students were always
bound to be more hyper than usual, eager to get out. Zim moodily observed
this fact as he slouched down in his seat at the back of the room,
absent-mindedly watching the babbling high-schooler's as they entered the
classroom, observing the door intently for Dib. The boy in question came in
by himself, eyes fixed to the ground. He looked up suddenly, as if drawn by
Zim's close stare, to lock eyes with the alien.
Zim blushed self-consciously and quickly moved his gaze to his desk, closely
inspecting the graffiti scribbled there as he waited for Dib to sit down.
The tardy bell rang, a long shrill screech that made loose papers on the
wall rattle and bring in a few straggling students that hurried to their
desks. Zim looked up from studying a carefully drawn heart that proclaimed
Hitari's love for Legolas to see their evil teacher, Mr. Zella, step in. A
tall man with a neatly trimmed short brown beard flecked with gray, and
wearing a pair of slacks and a long-sleeved Oxford shirt, he ran sharp brown
eyes over the class before announcing, "Welcome to Hell. We've got a busy
schedule ahead of us, so open up your Literature of Britain books to page
676 so we can get your daily torture session over and done with."
At the sound of his voice, all talking had respectfully ceased in the
classroom, and the only sounds now were the shuffling of books and creaking
of chairs as the students moved to obey. Zim dared to look over at Dib, who
was flipping through the tattered pages of the thick textbook and the alien
smiled to himself, ever so slightly, as he watched the back of the other's
head. How well he knew that back. Zim spent most of his time in class
staring at the wild hair.
How could something so simple be so fascinating? Those jagged ends of the
ebony hair ending in their crooked line just above Dib's collar. It was
still very similar to what it had been back when Zim had first met him,
still untidy with that cute scythe-like cowlick, with the single exception
in that Dib had grown it out in the back some. //I wonder how it feels. It's
so stiff-looking, but could it be soft...// The green-skinned youth blinked,
brow furrowing and his face settling into a light scowl. //Where did that
come from?//
Zim found it somewhat amusing, the fact that he would always study the other
in class, until Dib would turn his way. The alien would then automatically
lift his eyes to the ceiling. He'd undergone the same process for weeks now
and it was satisfying that he could keep the secret of watching his supposed
rival so well. Although it all felt unsatisfying in the fact that somewhere,
Zim felt that he WANTED Dib to realize the ritual. //How strange.//
Zim's squarish pupils traveled down to the title on the page. //Kubla Khan?
What in the name of Irk does that mean?//
"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree." Mr. Zella began reading aloud from the
front of the room, thick textbook cradled in his arms as he stalked from one
side of the room to the other. The poem went on to describe the beautiful
place known as Kubla Khan, with it's fertile ground and bright gardens.
"But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down down the green hill adwart a cedarn cover."
Dib blinked, eyebrows coming together in thought. //Deep romantic chasm?//
"And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As of this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain was forced."
The young man blinked, then blinked again, eyes moving from Mr. Zella to his
book, where he carefully looked over the words, then to Mr. Zella, and
finally back to his book to closely examine the words there. //That chasm
thing again. And pants? What the heck does fountain have...to...Oh my
God...// He could feel his face begin to burn, cheeks turning to crimson as
realization kicked in and he figured out exactly what this poem was about.
"Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honeydew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise." The slightly deranged and definitely evil
teacher slammed his book shut, a loud crack sounding in response. He looked
up at his class. "Does anyone know what this poem is about?"
The room was silent until Dib fell out of his chair with a loud crash, his
textbook falling and skidding across the floor as he tumbled to the tile.
Mr. Zella smirked at Dib's twitching figure. "I see at least Mister Membrane
has. For homework, I want a 200 word comp on your interpretation of Kubla
Khan, no exceptions, due tomorrow."
Dib unsteadily pulled himself back into his seat, and looked around for his
book, trying valiantly to calm his burning face. He found the book at his
nose-level, clasped in a gloved green hand and the boy looked up to Zim's
quizzical eyes, one narrowed as he studied his old rival in amusement and
curiosity as he held out Dib's book to the embarrassed boy. Dib took it
gratefully, avoiding Zim's gaze as the other headed back to his desk. //Damn
those perverted Brit's...// He hissed mentally, fidgeting with the layers of
thin cardboard that were the corner of his battered textbook.
"In other news I've got a wonderful announcement for you all. Time for
senior research papers!" Mr. Zella paused, waiting for the class' collective
groan to finish before continuing. "This is a major part of your senior
year, as well as your grade, and I expect you all to put your blood, sweat
and other bodily fluids into the effort. I've done the honor of picking out
your partners for you all, so finish your whining now so we can move on.
First I have Miss Tracy Smith with Mister Justin Davis. If you don't get
along now, you'd better get used to each other, real fast. Life's going to
be full of people you won't like; this is great practice for that. Next, we
have Miss Summer Orlando and Cheryl Sweet..."
Dib pressed the cool palm of his hand against the burning flesh of his
cheek, aiding in the process of cooling it back to normal. His thought began
to drift from the classroom, focusing on the past Saturday. He'd spent the
entire day at Zim's side, leaving only for a minute to grab his wet sneakers
and book bag from downstairs, hurrying back up with them in hand to sit back
at Zim's unresponsive side. How long had he stared at that prone figure, who
did nothing but sleep the entire day, falling into an almost hibernative
state. It'd been the most soothing thing Dib had done in a long time,
sitting with his knees tucked to his chest and watching his ex-rival and
current obsession take in long, sleep-ridden breaths, toned chest slowly
moving up and down.
The time had been so relaxing, giving Dib plenty of time to think over
things as he watched Zim's peaceful face, it's usual frown erased into a
smooth, sweet and innocent look. How mature they'd grown to be, giving up
their juvenile nature's years ago as their childish minds and bodies grew
into that of an adult's. The sound of his name broke Dib out of his daydream
in time to hear, "Mister Dib Membrane and Zim Nekri."
The paranormal-obsessed young man blinked, then swiveled his torso around to
look into Zim's face, which was as surprised as his own. Mr. Zella finished
off the list of names, regarding his class (more than half of them in a
stupefied state at the idea of working with their given partner) with a smug
look. He reached for a small stack of papers on his desk, "These," He
explained as he passed them out to the people at the front of the rows to
pass back, "Are a list of all the available topics. Get with your partner to
decide which one you want to do, and I want an answer by next class period."
Zim numbly took the paper that was handed back to him, glancing at the black
font before looking back at Dib. The human's brow was furrowed slightly as
he studied the paper and Zim was unable to suppress the smile that crept
unexpectedly to his lips at a sight he deemed quite...cute.
Memories came crashing down on him at the sight of Dib and his...cuteness;
more recent one's to be exact. It was hard to determine when Dib had been
the only thing occupying his mind, but the Irken did know it had been QUITE
a while. The previous Friday was a prime example. Zim, who SHOULD have been
hurrying home, as he didn't feel very good and was out in the rain that was
starting to pierce through his repellant and burn the sensitive flesh
underneath, had seen Dib hurry out of school and had decided, pushing far
against that thing called Reason to follow the boy home to ensure he got
there safely. It was hard to describe how angry he'd felt when he'd seen the
slender human pulled into the alley, back almost a block to avoid detection,
but it had been... a lot. And after he'd saved Dib, he'd had to force
himself to keep a cool exterior, lest Dib suspect something, when he'd
wanted nothing more than to pull the human close in a fierce...hug, yes that
was what it was called.
He'd started to feel so horribly dizzy at that point. He should have been
hurrying home, to dry himself off and rest his exhausted body, but he'd been
reluctant to leave. WHY? Zim ground his teeth together unconsciously as he
tried to sort out the dizzying thoughts. The bell rang, startling the alien
out of them as a soft cheer sounded from most of the class as they stood up
and headed for the door. The Irken shook his head to himself as he tucked
the topic paper into his textbook, looking up as he realized someone had
moved up to his desk.
"Hey Zim. Uh, do you...want to sit together at lunch? We can figure out what
to do our paper on." Dib asked, shifting from one foot to the other
uncomfortably.
"That sounds like a reasonable idea, worm-baby." Zim stood up, grabbing his
book and holding it at his side with a claw-like hand. Dib started walking
down the aisle and the alien followed closely behind, out of the near-empty
class and into the crowded hallway. There, he moved forward to walk
alongside the human, speaking only to stop Dib. "Here's my locker. "He
explained, stopping at one of the steel cabinets that lined the hallway,
motioning for Dib to stay still. The green-skinned boy fiddled with the
lock, banged on it three times, and the stubborn door reluctantly opened
with a loud creak.
The contents of the locker were very few, consisting of just a couple of
textbooks and Dib's cupcake tray and his shirt. Zim pulled out Dib's
belonging, handing them to the human. "Thank you for the use of your
garments. GIR liked the muffins." He placed his Language Arts book down with
the others, closing the locker and twisting the lock.
Dib pulled one of his arms out the backpack's straps, twisting it around
onto his hip to open it and place his returned items inside. He laughed,
"Well, glad HE did. I think they might've gone to waste otherwise." Zim
snorted in response, heading down the hall towards the cafeteria with Dib
close behind.
The food looked as un-appetizing as always, the boys found out as they went
to the lunch line. They paid for the greasy contents, then headed to the
table in the corner where Zim usually sat, completely empty for that fact.
Dib sat down next to Zim, who was poking experimentally at an off-white lump
of what Dib assumed was supposed to be mashed potatoes, and pulled out the
topic paper from his book bag, laying it down on the table for them to
study.
The human raised an eyebrow as he started to read them to himself. //The
inside of a ping-pong ball; The difference between Sporks and Foons;
Volcanic Pottery; Aerial sewage systems and their practicality; The usage of
Australian coral in Nepalese cuisine; Moon dairy farming; Martial arts
vegetables across the world; The presence of woodwork in stone masonry; THE
EXISTANCE OF GOD IN A UNIVERSE WITHOUT YOGURT?!!!!// "What the heck?" He
turned to look at Zim, who had one had propping his head up as he
scrutinized the paper thoughtfully. "Um, Zim?" He looked down to see 'Oxford
University.'
"Yes?" The artificial blue eyes looked up to Dib's true honey-colored one's.
Two girls walked by the two at that moment, dressed all in white dresses and
clutching bible's to their chests. They both had long, flowing blonde hair
and blue eyes, which were filled with tears at the moment. Wide berth was
given to them as they swooped about the cafeteria, as discussion about what
was wrong with the religion-obsessed girls was passed around. 'Oh, they were
in Mr. Zella's class first period. They figured out what Kubla Khan meant
and have been twitching all day and sprouting out psalms. Best idea to stay
clear away from them, more than usual. "By the way, Dib-human, what was your
malfunction during class?"
Dib's blush started up and he nervously played with his meatloaf. "Uh,
nothing. The poem just um, uh, yeah... Anyway, there's Oxford University.
It was one of the first colleges ever established. I bet we could get a lot
of info on it."
"Oh, I don't know. I was thinking about the 'Compare and Contrast the use of
breakfast cereals throughout religions of the world' one." Zim answered,
amused by Dib's reddened face and deciding not to push the idea at the
moment.
"WHAT?!" The tone was just a 'tad' exasperated.
Zim narrowed one eye. "What?"
"Oh, so why don't we just bring up how sprinkling of Froot Loops on cows in
Africa is similar to the ritual of bathing Buddha's in Rice Crispies?!" Dib
raised his arms frantically, trying to get his point across.
Which Zim didn't get. "Really? You humans have such odd rituals."
"I was being sarcastic."
"Oh." Zim pushed around his lump of potatoes, avoiding Dib's agitated gaze.
"Then we'll go along with your Oxford idea then."
Dib sighed, feeling bad for getting irritated at Zim. "Sorry, it's not you.
It's just that...these topics are ridiculous." He spooned some soggy green
beans into his mouth.
"I thought they sounded a bit odd." Zim nodded his head in agreement,
pushing his spoon into the potatoes and forming it into some odd shape.
"Oxford it is, then. Geez, why do we always seem to get stuck with the weird
teachers?"
"It's beyond my line of reasoning. Perhaps it's some higher being's idea of
a joke to place us in such odd situations in your planet's educational
system."
Dib chuckled. "Remember that one in 10th grade who was convinced she was a
sponge, every day for five minutes at exactly 1:30?"
Zim chortled, amused with the memory as he dug his spoon into the potatoes.
"It did put sort of a kink in the learning process didn't it?"
The bell rang, startling the two boys. Dib stood up first, looking down at
Zim, who was closely studying his potato sculpture, which faintly
resembled... "Zim? What's that supposed to be?"
Zim smirked as he stood up. "You. I think it has more brain matter, though."
The brunette threw a mock punch at Zim, who chuckled as he dodged out of the
way, heading towards the trash reciprocal with Dib close behind.
*~*~*~
JESUS, I'M FINALLY DONE! It's been sooo hectic lately, and the only time I
ever have to work on this is when my parents go out and I have to baby-sit.
And I'm not in the right frame of mind (not in much of a mind at all,
actually) when I'm watching over the family's demon-spawns. I can only get
anything done when they go to sleep. And oh, how they will stay up. Just to
torment my tortured soul.
Well, Kichara has been officially Jhonen-isized (DUM DUM!!!!). I just got
all of the Johnny the Homicidal Maniac's, and borrowed Squee from my friend
Mike. And now I have this.. Thing for Johnny. I WUV HIM!!! Yeah, don't
bother telling me I'm demented. it's already a well-known fact. Plans for a
Johnny/Devi romance are bouncing around in my head at this time, but I'm
determined to stick to this story to finish it.
Y'know, Kubla Khan actually IS a real poem, and believe it or not, so's Mr.
Zella. there really ARE people like this who exist. I'm not sure if I should
be elated or very, very scared.
Sigh, nobody said anything about my Zim-making-muffins idea. Well, *I*
thought it was cute. But then again, I also think snakes are quite adorable.
Many thanks to Lindsey and David, who helped with the topics. *snicker* I'm
very amused with them. This was a chapter for friends, with all my little
thingies put in there for them. Let's hope they catch them and write to tell
me how cool I am. ^^ FISHIE!!! *gnaws on a trout*