Author's Note: Hey everyone! Happy new year! I know it's been a while
since I've updated any of my stories, but school is busy and everything
else. I'd also like to remind you that if there's another story of mine
that you would like a new chapter for, just tell me and I'll do my best. I
have a bad habit (or hobbit...lol) of starting fics and never finishing
them! Anyway, on to the story!
Frodo Friday
Chapter 7 The Closet
I trudged back to my desk, Frodo in tow. "But I really have to go!" he whined.
"I'm sorry," I replied, "but we'll have to get to English first. Then we can ask Mr. Osbald if you can go."
"Fine," Frodo pouted. "Although you CAN get bladder problem from waiting to go for a long time."
"Yeah, I know. My mom's always telling that to my sister." We walked out into the hall. I paused, on the tip of one toe, head cocked in one direction like an animal on the hunt of its prey.
"What's wrong now?" Frodo groaned.
I silenced him by shoving my books in his face and I uttered two words: "Pop Tart."
"Huh?" asked the bewildered hobbit.
"Just act normal," I ordered him. "He'll be coming out of that door," I pointed with my finger down the hall, "in approximately 3.2 seconds." Sure enough, the classroom door swung open and out walked the jewel of my life: Pop Tart.
"Walk!" I hissed at Frodo through teeth clenched in a huge smile. "Act normal!" We strutted down the hall, I spying at Pop Tart coming towards us in the other direction out of the corner of my eye. I still had the fake smile plastered across my face. Step, smile, flip hair a bit, glance in his direction...then it was over. Pop Tart turned the corner behind us. "OK...," I sighed. "Let's get to English." Mr. Osbald was standing outside of the classroom door.
"Good morning Emily," he said.
"Good morning Mr. Osbald," I replied. "Oh - and this is -"
"Fred. I've heard," the man interrupted. "He can sit in the empty desk behind you."
"Thank you," I replied as I traipsed into the room. I plopped into my chair and Frodo at the desk behind me. After I shoved my books into my desk, I looked up to find Tory, who sits in front of me, in my face.
"Hello Emily," she said. "I see Frodo is still here and hasn't been murdered by obsessive mob girls yet."
"Yeah...that's why Legolas never appears in closets. He'd be dead before you could say 'fangirls'."
"Yep," interrupted Sarina, who sits in front of Tory. "We'd all rip off his clothes and he's die of embarrassment."
Then Emma walked in.
"Hi Emily!" she said bubbly to me. Nothing ever really dampens her spirit. And she likes the cello.
"Hey Emma," I replied. I paused deliberately so that she could notice Frodo. But she didn't. She continued to talk about last night's homework (vocab words). After a few minutes I became a bit unsure if Emma's eyesight was fine or if she needed glasses. (A/N: A few months ago Emma DID get glasses! Of course, this fic takes place last school year so she didn't have them then.)
"Er...Emma?" I asked. "Notice somebody...er...new...in the classroom?"
"Nope!" she replied. "Only Frodo behind you. Wait...Frodo? How did he get here?"
"He appeared in my closet this morning. I can't believe you didn't notice."
"Well, I just kind of figured you finally got one of those life-sized cutout things and brought it to school."
"Nope - it's the real deal."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
We walked out of the classroom and into the hallway. "Hey guys!" called Nina from down the hall.
"Nins!" shrieked Frodo as he bounded up to her and embraced her waist. "I missed you so much!" They clasped hands, turned around, and walked down the hall, looking at each other with gooey eyes.
It was just at that moment that something hit me: Frodo was hot! I'd known that forever, but for some reason, today I let him fall in love with Nina! BAD EMILY!
With blood boiling, I charged up to them screaming, "FRODO! I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD, AND NOW I'M GONNA BRING YOU OUT!" Before the stunned hobbit had a chance to react, I snatched him off of his hairy feet, threw open the janitor's closet, and tossed him inside like a sack of potatoes. I slammed the door and threw my back against it, panting.
"Emily!" squealed Nina. "How could you?" I noticed a lone tear trickling from the corner of her eye.
"Sorry," I replied. "But I had to." I turned around and opened the door a crack to check if Frodo was still there.
But what would have been buckets and mops wasn't. My eyes widened as I stared into a room with painted walls and a big red couch in the middle. And on that couch sat Pop Tart and Frodo.
"Huh?" I asked. "What's up with this? Where did you come from Pop Tart?"
The two just smiled in return and patted the couch cushion between them.
"Uh...okay..." I hesitantly said as I plopped onto the couch and heard a 'fhwoomp' as I crashed into the cushion.
Frodo and Pop Tart were staring at me now. A pang of cluelessness shot through me. "uh...so what now?" I asked. They stared at me with their huge blue eyes. STARED. I leaned back on the couch to avoid their glance. It made me feel uncomfortable. Apparently, me leaning back was just what they wanted. As soon as my head hit the back of the couch, Pop Tart whipped out a fan and Frodo a bunch of grapes.
"Um...well...okay..." I mumbled as Pop Tart blissfully began to swish the leaf up and down, up and down. The breeze felt nice. Frodo pulled a grape off of the bunch and popped it into my mouth. I could get used to this...I thought as Frodo began to pour me a soda.
Just when I thought things couldn't get any better...they didn't.
A muffled banging came from the direction of the door, startling the three of us out of our bliss. The doorknob clicked and in walked Nina. Taking one look at the scene in front of her eyes, she gasped and fell on the floor, sobbing. "Frodo! How could you?" Then she turned to me. "Emily!" she cried. "This is all your fault! Emily! Emily! Emily!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Emily? Emily?" It was more of a muffled whisper now. And a question. "Emily, are you all right?" I snapped my head up. Tory was looking at me strangely.
"Huh?" I asked. "One second I'm in a closet with Frodo and Pop Tart, the next I'm here...in English..."
"You must have been dreaming," Tory assured me. "And if it involves Frodo and Pop Tart in a closet, I DON'T think I want to know..."
"Uh, it was nothing like THAT..."
"Whatever you say...but in a CLOSET?"
"Yeah, long story. But it was nothing, I repeat, NOTHING like what is going through your head right now."
"Girls?" came Mr. Osbald's voice from the front of the class. "Back to your grammar."
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around. There was Frodo, his eyes as big as ping pong balls. "You had a dream about ME?" he questioned, astonished.
"Yeah, well...nobody can control their dreams."
"Wow...I'm touched...really touched..."
Author's Note: To be continued!
Frodo Friday
Chapter 7 The Closet
I trudged back to my desk, Frodo in tow. "But I really have to go!" he whined.
"I'm sorry," I replied, "but we'll have to get to English first. Then we can ask Mr. Osbald if you can go."
"Fine," Frodo pouted. "Although you CAN get bladder problem from waiting to go for a long time."
"Yeah, I know. My mom's always telling that to my sister." We walked out into the hall. I paused, on the tip of one toe, head cocked in one direction like an animal on the hunt of its prey.
"What's wrong now?" Frodo groaned.
I silenced him by shoving my books in his face and I uttered two words: "Pop Tart."
"Huh?" asked the bewildered hobbit.
"Just act normal," I ordered him. "He'll be coming out of that door," I pointed with my finger down the hall, "in approximately 3.2 seconds." Sure enough, the classroom door swung open and out walked the jewel of my life: Pop Tart.
"Walk!" I hissed at Frodo through teeth clenched in a huge smile. "Act normal!" We strutted down the hall, I spying at Pop Tart coming towards us in the other direction out of the corner of my eye. I still had the fake smile plastered across my face. Step, smile, flip hair a bit, glance in his direction...then it was over. Pop Tart turned the corner behind us. "OK...," I sighed. "Let's get to English." Mr. Osbald was standing outside of the classroom door.
"Good morning Emily," he said.
"Good morning Mr. Osbald," I replied. "Oh - and this is -"
"Fred. I've heard," the man interrupted. "He can sit in the empty desk behind you."
"Thank you," I replied as I traipsed into the room. I plopped into my chair and Frodo at the desk behind me. After I shoved my books into my desk, I looked up to find Tory, who sits in front of me, in my face.
"Hello Emily," she said. "I see Frodo is still here and hasn't been murdered by obsessive mob girls yet."
"Yeah...that's why Legolas never appears in closets. He'd be dead before you could say 'fangirls'."
"Yep," interrupted Sarina, who sits in front of Tory. "We'd all rip off his clothes and he's die of embarrassment."
Then Emma walked in.
"Hi Emily!" she said bubbly to me. Nothing ever really dampens her spirit. And she likes the cello.
"Hey Emma," I replied. I paused deliberately so that she could notice Frodo. But she didn't. She continued to talk about last night's homework (vocab words). After a few minutes I became a bit unsure if Emma's eyesight was fine or if she needed glasses. (A/N: A few months ago Emma DID get glasses! Of course, this fic takes place last school year so she didn't have them then.)
"Er...Emma?" I asked. "Notice somebody...er...new...in the classroom?"
"Nope!" she replied. "Only Frodo behind you. Wait...Frodo? How did he get here?"
"He appeared in my closet this morning. I can't believe you didn't notice."
"Well, I just kind of figured you finally got one of those life-sized cutout things and brought it to school."
"Nope - it's the real deal."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
We walked out of the classroom and into the hallway. "Hey guys!" called Nina from down the hall.
"Nins!" shrieked Frodo as he bounded up to her and embraced her waist. "I missed you so much!" They clasped hands, turned around, and walked down the hall, looking at each other with gooey eyes.
It was just at that moment that something hit me: Frodo was hot! I'd known that forever, but for some reason, today I let him fall in love with Nina! BAD EMILY!
With blood boiling, I charged up to them screaming, "FRODO! I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD, AND NOW I'M GONNA BRING YOU OUT!" Before the stunned hobbit had a chance to react, I snatched him off of his hairy feet, threw open the janitor's closet, and tossed him inside like a sack of potatoes. I slammed the door and threw my back against it, panting.
"Emily!" squealed Nina. "How could you?" I noticed a lone tear trickling from the corner of her eye.
"Sorry," I replied. "But I had to." I turned around and opened the door a crack to check if Frodo was still there.
But what would have been buckets and mops wasn't. My eyes widened as I stared into a room with painted walls and a big red couch in the middle. And on that couch sat Pop Tart and Frodo.
"Huh?" I asked. "What's up with this? Where did you come from Pop Tart?"
The two just smiled in return and patted the couch cushion between them.
"Uh...okay..." I hesitantly said as I plopped onto the couch and heard a 'fhwoomp' as I crashed into the cushion.
Frodo and Pop Tart were staring at me now. A pang of cluelessness shot through me. "uh...so what now?" I asked. They stared at me with their huge blue eyes. STARED. I leaned back on the couch to avoid their glance. It made me feel uncomfortable. Apparently, me leaning back was just what they wanted. As soon as my head hit the back of the couch, Pop Tart whipped out a fan and Frodo a bunch of grapes.
"Um...well...okay..." I mumbled as Pop Tart blissfully began to swish the leaf up and down, up and down. The breeze felt nice. Frodo pulled a grape off of the bunch and popped it into my mouth. I could get used to this...I thought as Frodo began to pour me a soda.
Just when I thought things couldn't get any better...they didn't.
A muffled banging came from the direction of the door, startling the three of us out of our bliss. The doorknob clicked and in walked Nina. Taking one look at the scene in front of her eyes, she gasped and fell on the floor, sobbing. "Frodo! How could you?" Then she turned to me. "Emily!" she cried. "This is all your fault! Emily! Emily! Emily!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Emily? Emily?" It was more of a muffled whisper now. And a question. "Emily, are you all right?" I snapped my head up. Tory was looking at me strangely.
"Huh?" I asked. "One second I'm in a closet with Frodo and Pop Tart, the next I'm here...in English..."
"You must have been dreaming," Tory assured me. "And if it involves Frodo and Pop Tart in a closet, I DON'T think I want to know..."
"Uh, it was nothing like THAT..."
"Whatever you say...but in a CLOSET?"
"Yeah, long story. But it was nothing, I repeat, NOTHING like what is going through your head right now."
"Girls?" came Mr. Osbald's voice from the front of the class. "Back to your grammar."
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around. There was Frodo, his eyes as big as ping pong balls. "You had a dream about ME?" he questioned, astonished.
"Yeah, well...nobody can control their dreams."
"Wow...I'm touched...really touched..."
Author's Note: To be continued!