I'm gonna start out by saying that I fricking love this chapter. I think I like it even better than the last Spinelli chapter. I actually started planning out chapters for this fic. It's fun, really. Anyways, poor unlucky Spinelli. Same day as the other chapters. Note: Remember that T.J. was first ambushed by Gretchen, and then Ashley A. came up to him and, well, pretty much asked him out.

Poor Spinelli's still tired, and she hasn't had anything to eat all day. Lunch is after Recess… 'Cause I say so.

Anyways, Miss Grotke got promoted up to fifth grade because she loved them so much. Gus isn't in their class. Bummer. Ashley A. (she is the ONLY Ashley in their class), Hustler Kid, Upside-Down Girl, Gordie, Phil, Swinger Girl, (I can't think of many kids who actually have names… I was watching Recess last night at like twelve-thirty, and I realized that the only people in their class I recognized were Ashley Q., Gordie, and Phil (the guy who dresses like a Boy Scout)… Then there's that redheaded girl with the curly hair who was the one dancing with T.J. when he… lol… got that black eye, and a bunch of other extras… goes to find out if any of them have names)… Actually, like none of the characters have names… They're more like something in front of Kid or Girl. Hustler Kid (though he at least has a name), Swinger Girl, Upside-Down Girl, Guru Kid (I thought his name was like Jimmy or something), Cornchip Girl (Theresa), Crying Kid…

Okay, so their class is… Gordie, Phil, Spinelli, T.J., Ashley A., Gretchen, Vince, Mikey, Hustler Kid (who is apparently in their fourth grade class… Go figure) a.k.a. Francis, red-headed/brunette girl with pigtails who wears red and sits next to Vince, girl with wavy red hair who looks kinda like T.J.'s girl clone, Swinger Girl, Upside-Down Girl, Butch, Jeffrey, Knarf a.k.a. Frank (the Pale Kids never seem to go to class…)… And, uh, some other people… Anyways, on with the show!

Ugh. I was trying to draw in the dirt with a stick like I do when I'm bored and not kicking something, right? Because Gretchen was asking me all these stupid questions and lousy Vince can't find a frigging kickball. And, you know, T.J.'s off doing who-knows-what…

Anyways, so Randall the Worm comes up to me and starts mouthing off about some crap. Still is, actually. I gotta do something about this.

I mean, the stupid little weasel actually thinks he can talk to me? Jeez, does the boy have a frigging brain cell in his skull? No, of course not.

Okay, that's it! He's getting it. Now, darn it, how many detentions do I have this week already? Oh, wait a second, why do I care? I'm gonna beat the crap out of him anyways.

So I pick him up, dangling him off the ground (with one hand, nonetheless… Yeah, I rock!). Now he's got this weird look on his face and he's moving his head closer to mine.

He BETTER not be trying to kiss me.

He's still moving closer.

Whomping Bobula! That's just… Ew!

I think I'm scarred for life. I'm gonna have nightmares about this, I can tell.

Well, I said I'd beat the living daylights outta the next guy who tried.

This is gonna be fun.

I let my right fist fly and it hits him right in the kisser. Ha! Revenge is sweet.

I oughtta name my fist though… Hmm.

And another punch, and another. I wonder why my fist doesn't hurt. Oh well. Ah, sweet, I gave him a black eye! This is about as much fun as the time he got a swirly. No, wait, that was awesome. Really.

Jeez, is he supposed to bleed this much? Ah, he looks about done.

My fist is getting tired anyways.

So I drop Randall, a.k.a. The Loser Who Tried to Kiss Me While I Was Holding Him in the Air. Nah, that's too long. I mean, why'd he even think that he could kiss me, huh?

I bet it's 'cause I'm the only girl on the playground who has kissed someone. Darn those whomping straws. Bad luck, man, bad luck.

Wait, what am I doing here with the evidence. He's crawling away to get Finster. I gotta go to the bathroom and clean my hand off and find an alibi. Now.

So, I'm running to the bathroom, when I run into Ashley A. gloating and looking at a school picture of someone who looks familiar. Of course, being me, I skid to a stop waay too late and she falls down too. Great, I'm gonna be late. And Finster's gonna catch me.

Stupid Powderpuff! Ugh.

"Like, watch where you're going, like, Spinelli!" Ashley A. sneers.

I do not have time for this crap with her. Matter of fact, I could so easily sock her one right now.

It would be, I'm like so sure, delightful.

"Oh, cram it, Powderpuff. I've got business to attend to!" I snap at her, not in the mood for her whiny behavior.

Ugh. Why is she smirking at me? Huh? Jeez, this is worse than Gretchen's Twenty Questions, I swear!

"Oh, like, Spin-Ugly, what business would that, like, be? I mean, like, there's like no amount of time in that bathroom that could make you look, like, pretty," Ashley A. retorts harshly.

Harsh. I knew there was a reason I hated her more than the other Ashleys…

"What, Ashley, do you want the blood I'm washing off my hands to be yours?" I rejoin angrily.

Ashley A. scoffs and rolls her eyes. Snooty priss. Grr, I hate her so much.

"I don't have like, the time for like fashion rejects like yourself. Besides, you're like making me like late for lunch. I'm outtie," Ashley A. says snootily.

I hate her. I hate her. I frigging hate her. So she stalks off in those stupid, too-tall shoes, which I still don't get how she can walk in. They sound so annoying against the hall tiles. Seriously, does that stick hurt? I mean… How can she walk?

Well, at least the hallway's clear.

Hey, wait a second!

Except for that thing on the floor!

What is it?

Holy cow.

That's a picture of T.J.

Whoa.

Hey, wait, Ashley A. was holding a picture when I ran into her! She must've dropped it.

But why would Ashley A. have a picture of T.J.?

I mean, it's not like we get along with The Ashleys. He's my best friend, so that's kind of out of the question, obviously.

So why does she have a picture of T.J.?

And why was she staring at it?

And why is this bothering me so much?

Well, duh, because it's Ashley A.

We're going to have to have a little "talk" about this here picture. A talk which may or may not involve talking.

But as for the photo… Well, I can't just leave it here. Okay, so I pick up the picture and shove it in my jacket. Oh, crap, why am I not washing my hands?

I can think about stupid Ashley A. and the stupid picture anytime. But I need to wash my hands now.

I make a mad dash towards the bathroom, scrambling inside and pressing hard on the soap dispenser. I shove my hands under it, jumping up on my tiptoes to peer out the window. I could recognize that yellow polka-dotted dress anywhere. She's coming.

Well, the blood's coming off fast. That's good. My hands are still kinda red though. Oh well. I don't have much time.

Frantically, I pull at the paper towel dispenser, sloppily drying my hands and throwing the wad in the trash. I dash out of the door, glancing briefly down at my watch. I'm going to be late for lunch and then she'll bust me for not having a hall pass.

I've got to hustle.

Humming under my breath I dash into the lunchroom, barreling out of the way of an angry Upside-Down Girl.

"Hey, watch where you're going, Spinelli!"

I shake a fist at her.

"Watch yourself, Upside-Down Girl! You're talking to Spinelli here!"

Of course, then I crash into Hustler Kid. Ugh. I think I'm getting bruises. Man, he's sure on his feet fast.

"Spinelli, you really oughtta watch where you're going," He says, offering me a hand.

I don't want to get up, really I don't. I'm tired from all the running I've done today. And my arm strength's pretty much sapped from beating the crap outta Randall. I just want to sit here on the floor, lie down, and go to sleep. But, as I can't do that, and need food as well as sleep to live, I take his hand (which is really strange) and let him pull me up. Besides, he's way taller than me anyways.

I'm really not in the mood for this, but oh frickin' well.

"Thanks, Hustler Kid," I mutter, too tired to be angry.

Okay, he's looking at me funny.

"Please, call me Francis," He replies suavely, kissing my hand.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I must be really freaking out of it because he just kissed my hand. That's it, I need some caffeine. I jerk my hand from his grip, tiredly waving him off.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure, whatever, Francis… Got some soda?" I ask as quickly as I can muster in my half-asleep state.

He smiles at me… Creepy. If I felt better, I'd run or hit him or something. But I don't, so as long as he doesn't pull a Randall, I'll be fine. Hopefully.

"For a pretty girl such as yourself, always…" He answers, pulling a Coke from his trench coat and throwing it at me.

I barely manage to catch it, but nod my thanks, turning away from him and opening it. I've conveniently decided to ignore the fact that he called me a pretty girl.

Ah, this has to be the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. Even though it's bitter. But it has caffeine, and caffeine brings clarity, thank God.

Jeez, does Hustler Kid like me or something? Great, just what I need… Speaking of which, where are Teej and The Gang? Uh oh, Finster just walked in! I have to find them.

Dang it, where are they?

"Spinelli, over here!"

Oh, bless Gretchen. I nervously glance both ways before running over to the table and plopping down in between Mikey and T.J. Okay, so there's not much room, and, yeah, I'm practically sitting on T.J.'s lap… Wait, ew!

No, wait, I want to be hidden! Okay, well, I guess I'd better jump under the table. Finster's coming, after all. I can see her big fat feet with their stupid bunions. Yuck!

And there's her screechy voice now.

"Have any of you seen Spinelli?" She squalks.

Good thing Randall's not with her. My name holds a certain fear with it. Good stuff. Unfortunately, it's cold down here, and there's not much room, and, man, someone's feet smell really, really, really bad!

"What crime did she commit this time, Miss Finster, just so we know what we're dealing with?" Gretchen asks smartly.

That won't work in my favor.

"Assault and Battery."

Yuck. She's so gonna put me in juvie someday.

"Nope, we haven't seen her. She might be in the nurse's office though… Or the bathroom. You know, cleaning up," Vince says smoothly.

I can feel her head nodding from here.

"Okay, thanks, kid," She grumbles, and her big fat heels click away.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, T.J.'s head grins down at me.

"Sheesh, Teej, you're makin' me have a heart-attack!" I hiss.

If it's possible, his grin widens.

"Coast's clear, Spin."

I roll my eyes at him.

"Okay, I'm coming up. But for the love of criminy, move your feet," I snap bossily, "And while you're at it, scoot over. I don't want to have to practically sit on your lap again!"

Oh, wow. He actually moved. Ugh, but it's still a tight fit to get up. Ah, finally at my rightful place at the table. Fresh air. Ah…

"So, Spinelli, what'd you do? Finster looked pretty mad," Gus says innocently.

He doesn't know the half of it.

"Oh, I kinda beat up Randall," I mumble, sipping my coke.

Yet somehow the reminders of just how I got that drink return. Ugh. I need to repress those memories. Repress, repress, repress…

T.J. spits out his milk, which is really gross.

"You what? Come on, Spin, you know you can't touch him," T.J. says, shocked, shaking his head.

Not my fault. Lousy Loser… Stupid… Grr. I want to punch him all over again. Really, I do.

"He brought it on himself. He had to be taught a lesson," I mutter vehemently.

Gretchen frowns across the table at me. She's been acting weird all day.

"What'd he do, Spinelli?"

I shudder just thinking about it. As a matter of fact, I'd rather not think about it. Let's just pretend it didn't happen.

"More like what he tried to do, Gretch, and trust me, I don't want to talk about it," I respond immediately, shivering.

T.J. and the others give me a look, but I really don't want to think about it.

"Well, it can't be that bad… What you did to Randall," Says Mikey, ever the optimist.

I shake my head, drinking the soda.

"Oh, no. It's bad. Real bad," I grumble despondently.

The odd looks abound. Fun stuff.

Okay, that's it, I need some sleep. My eyes are fluttering open and closed.

"Spin, hey, Spin, are you okay?"

A hand comes down on my shoulder, and suddenly, I'm wide awake. And T.J.'s like half a foot away. Jeez! I jump like a foot in the air.

"I'm just… tired, is all," I yawn tiredly.

"Your eyes closed," He states bluntly.

Jerk. Grr. He's annoying my tired brain. I might just punch him if this keeps up.

"You know perfectly well just why I'm tired, so stop hasslin' me about it," I snap impatiently.

Should I leave the table? Heck yeah. Maybe I'll go ask Hustler Kid for some food. He'd give it to me, for sure. Yeah, I think I'll go do that. I mean, the last thing I need is to pass out from hunger… I mean, I've already got the exhaustion thing going for me.

"Hey, Spin, wait up!"

Man, I have got to walk faster. Now where the heck is he? Stupid hustling, jacket-wearing… Hustler! Ugh!

Oh, great, Finster's over there. I gotta get out of here.

"What part of wait up don't you understand?"

When will T.J. learn to just let me be?

"Don't follow me, Teej! Go back to lunch!"

"I won't!"

Man, I'm going to have to run faster.

And ditch T.J.

And avoid Miss Finster.

And eat something.

And get the heck outta here.

Jeez, I'm a busy girl.

The trouble with this school is that there's nowhere to run. There's the gym, the cafeteria, the classrooms, the hallway, the office, and the playground. That's it.

"Sheesh, slow down!"

I roll my eyes, trying to run faster.

"Shut up!"

I'm tired. So tired. And hungry.

And I need to get away. Desperately.

"Spin, come on, you're tired!"

I roll my eyes again, not daring to look back. I'm going out to the playground. There are places there where he could never find me.

"And so are you, so shove it!"

Where to hide? The Cheese Box? Old Rusty? Where to hide?

But I'm tired and so he catches up. Darn it. Foiled again.

Oh, well, I guess I do need some air, after all. I turn around, stopping. Why is it so blurry?

"Finally! She stops!"

I roll my eyes, but this really doesn't help my vision problem.

"Teej, please, I'm…"

And then, I'm falling, and all I can see is darkness. This is definitely not good.

Loren ;

Okay, let's review. Spinelli beat up Randall because he tried to kiss her (and no one wants to kiss a worm… ugh), found Ashley A.'s picture of T.J., got hit on by Hustler Kid, hid/ran from Finster, and then culminated the day by fainting.

Fun stuff.