Disclaimer: We love show friends... Cuz it is very good. We love show
friends... But we do not own it... (Sing to the tune of The Moon Song
[which I don't own either; it belongs to www.rathergood.com] We love tha
moooon!)
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THE ONE WITH THE STORY TELLING
Chapter Two: Invitations
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Rachel was a rich, pretty, and popular girl in Lincoln High. She wasn't much for math, or anything that required too much thought, but she had a boyfriend and a number of other friends who liked to giggle about the same things she did. All in all life was pretty good for a sixteen-year-old girl, soon to be seventeen.
Her best friend, she safely say, was Monica Geller, even if she was something of a loser, with an even more loserly brother called Ross. But this aside, if she had to guess who she would still be in touch with after high school, it would be Monica.
"Ms. Greene," someone said. Someone. Her teacher. "I asked you the answer to this equation. It was on the homework: number nine."
"It was four and then a lot of decimal places," Rachel answered.
Ross, Monica's loser brother's hand shot up from somewhere in back of her.
"Yes, Ross?"
"Actually, the answer is seventy-four-point-three pi. Would you like me to show you how I found my answer?"
Rachel dove back into her thoughts as Ross walked up to the board and began doing something with some equation that Rachel really didn't care about. She knew she probably should be paying attention, but math had never been one of her strong points. She wondered why she was in the same class as Ross. Oh well... didn't matter.
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Chandler sat on the counter in the bathroom, busy skipping class. He hated his name, he decided. Chandler Bing. What was wrong with his parents? That thought made him smile ironically. There was a lot wrong with his parents, and not just their choice in names. Which was probably the reason he always ate lunch alone, or with Ross Geller (who was probably less popular than Chandler, if that was possible.)
To make matters worse, the back of his head hurt, because someone had just made an effort to bang it against the lockers, and succeeded. He wasn't even sure who had done it; just some random 'cool' guy who wanted to piss me off, Chandler thought. Sometimes life sucked.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He wasn't much to look at. This, at least, was evident by the lack of girls following him around. There were people like Chip, one of the 'cool guys' who seemed to have their own personal fan clubs.
Chandler wasn't even sure if he had a good friend. Sure, he talked to Ross occasionally, but that was it really. Yes; life sucked.
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Lunch came at long last, and Phoebe searched for a place to sit in the lunchroom. She wasn't too hungry; she had lived on the street for a few years, and had gone for longer than this without food, but she liked to eat at mealtime. It felt official. She saw an empty seat next to a girl she'd talked to before. Phoebe was fairly sure her name was Monica, or something like that. She'd never met the person sitting next to her, but she knew her name started with an 'R'.
Maybe it's Rufus, she thought. But that really wasn't likely.
"Hello, Monica," Phoebe said as she sat down.
"—So Rachel, would you want to come on the trip? Oh, hi, Phoebe."
"What trip?" Phoebe asked, drowning out whatever answer the 'R' girl—Rachel—might have had.
Monica took on what might be interpreted as a pained expression, but Phoebe was sure it wasn't. After all, they were friends. "I'm going on a camping trip. With a friend."
"Take me!" Phoebe said.
"If you hadn't noticed, she just asked me," Rachel cut in. "Anyway, Mon, I'd love to go."
"But can't you take two friends?" Phoebe asked. It was worth a try.
Monica felt bad for Phoebe, in a way. She didn't have that many friends, but she really wasn't a bad person. "Uh... sure."
"Monica!" Rachel hissed.
"Rachel!" Monica mocked her friend's expression and tone, making them both laugh.
"So when is it?" Phoebe asked. She could tell that Rachel didn't like her, but she didn't care. Rachel was a stupid prep.
"It's happening over this weekend. Come over to my house on Saturday?" Monica asked Rachel and Phoebe.
"Sure," they both said.
Then: "Ewwww," Rachel moaned. "My hot dog is cold in the inside!"
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Ross placed his books in his locker, grabbing his wallet and heading down to the lunchroom. He was late for lunch again because some stupid gang of kids had held him up in the hallway. Apparently Monica had told Rachel that he still had dinosaur toys lining his shelves. And of course Rachel had told everyone that she even remotely knew in the school. And then of course a few of his classmates had decided that this was the time to try to shove Ross into a locker. It wasn't really HIS fault that he liked dinosaurs; SOMEONE had to.
Okay, Ross, he told himself, calm down. This day will be over soon enough.
He got his lunch and sat down at a mostly empty table. The only other person was sitting with his head slumped over his arms on the table. He looked like Chandler—what was it? Bling? Bing?--, whom Ross had talked to a few times, though it was hard to tell from a view of his back and the top of his head.
"Um, hey," Ross said.
"Yo," the figure said flatly and sarcastically without raising his head, as if he didn't care who was talking to him or why.
"Um, are you okay?" Ross asked. He really had to stop 'umming,' but it was a nervous habit that was hard to break.
"Peachy," the person said, in that same monotone voice.
"What's wrong?"
"Who cares?"
"Um, me." Yes, Ross, THAT sounded intelligent.
He should stop talking to himself, too.
"Who are you?" Chandler raised his head. "But not too loud, because my head feels like crap. Then again, you probably don't care."
"Um, I'm Ross Geller. Are you okay?"
"Told you, I'm peachy," Chandler said sarcastically.
"I meant, what's wrong?"
"Oh, the usual... everyone hates me, my head hurts, my life sucks... And how are you today?"
Ross almost answered the question before he realized that Chandler was still being sarcastic. "Everyone hates you?" he asked instead.
"Yep." Chandler switched positions in his chair so he was no longer completely slumped over and was actually looking at Ross. "And it's not exactly my fault that I've got the dad that I do, is it."
"Mmn," Ross said intelligently. "And your head hurts?"
"What are you, my psychiatrist?"
"Guess so," Ross laughed. Chandler didn't.
"If you really want to know, my head was slammed first against the lockers, then against the wall. And now I've got a headache."
"A few people tried to stuff me in a locker," Ross said. "It didn't work."
Something resembling a smile flitted across Chandler's face. "So I guess I'm not alone. Though you wouldn't happen to have a 'homosexual' father, would you?"
Ross looked somewhat shocked and Chandler laughed at the expression on his face. Strange, though, that Ross hadn't known. EVERYONE knew.
"Well, I'm surprised you didn't know," Chandler said. "Anyway, how's your day been going?"
"I almost got stuffed in a locker because I have dinosaur toys in my room," Ross said. "Other than that, perfectly normal."
"Dinosaur toys?" Chandler asked, and Ross wondered how he hadn't known. That was the kind of thing that got around.
"I'm a geek," Ross laughed. "And my sister has a big mouth and so does her best friend."
"Well, no one told me. If you couldn't tell, I'm not quite in the center of the gossip circles."
"Me neither," Ross said, though it was rather obvious. He only had a few friends, including Chandler, and they were almost as far removed from popularity as he was.
He was somewhat startled when Monica tapped him on the shoulder. He hadn't noticed her approach. "Ross, I've got my two friends, so you're taking one."
"Who's coming?" Ross asked.
"Rachel and that girl Phoebe," Monica said. "You know, she's new. Who're you bringing?"
Ross shrugged. "I dunno."
"Well, goodbye!" Monica said, and was off.
Ross needed to pick a friend to take on his and Monica's camping trip this weekend. They had two tents, one that slept two people and one that slept three. Their parents had told them that "girls take one tent and boys take the other one". That meant that someone got to bring two friends and the other one. It had seemed only fitting that Monica, who had more friends than her brother should take two friends, and that was how it had worked out.
"Bringing where?" Chandler asked.
"Me and my sister planned a camping trip, and we can each take friends. Well, I can take a friend. Actually," Ross said, an idea forming in his mind, "Would you like to go?"
"When is it?"
"This weekend. Saturday to Sunday."
"I don't think I'm doing anything," Chandler said slowly. "I think my dad and his eyebrows can wait—I don't need allowance that bad. Never mind," he finished quickly as Ross raised an eyebrow of his own.
"Okay..."
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THE ONE WITH THE STORY TELLING
Chapter Two: Invitations
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Rachel was a rich, pretty, and popular girl in Lincoln High. She wasn't much for math, or anything that required too much thought, but she had a boyfriend and a number of other friends who liked to giggle about the same things she did. All in all life was pretty good for a sixteen-year-old girl, soon to be seventeen.
Her best friend, she safely say, was Monica Geller, even if she was something of a loser, with an even more loserly brother called Ross. But this aside, if she had to guess who she would still be in touch with after high school, it would be Monica.
"Ms. Greene," someone said. Someone. Her teacher. "I asked you the answer to this equation. It was on the homework: number nine."
"It was four and then a lot of decimal places," Rachel answered.
Ross, Monica's loser brother's hand shot up from somewhere in back of her.
"Yes, Ross?"
"Actually, the answer is seventy-four-point-three pi. Would you like me to show you how I found my answer?"
Rachel dove back into her thoughts as Ross walked up to the board and began doing something with some equation that Rachel really didn't care about. She knew she probably should be paying attention, but math had never been one of her strong points. She wondered why she was in the same class as Ross. Oh well... didn't matter.
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Chandler sat on the counter in the bathroom, busy skipping class. He hated his name, he decided. Chandler Bing. What was wrong with his parents? That thought made him smile ironically. There was a lot wrong with his parents, and not just their choice in names. Which was probably the reason he always ate lunch alone, or with Ross Geller (who was probably less popular than Chandler, if that was possible.)
To make matters worse, the back of his head hurt, because someone had just made an effort to bang it against the lockers, and succeeded. He wasn't even sure who had done it; just some random 'cool' guy who wanted to piss me off, Chandler thought. Sometimes life sucked.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He wasn't much to look at. This, at least, was evident by the lack of girls following him around. There were people like Chip, one of the 'cool guys' who seemed to have their own personal fan clubs.
Chandler wasn't even sure if he had a good friend. Sure, he talked to Ross occasionally, but that was it really. Yes; life sucked.
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Lunch came at long last, and Phoebe searched for a place to sit in the lunchroom. She wasn't too hungry; she had lived on the street for a few years, and had gone for longer than this without food, but she liked to eat at mealtime. It felt official. She saw an empty seat next to a girl she'd talked to before. Phoebe was fairly sure her name was Monica, or something like that. She'd never met the person sitting next to her, but she knew her name started with an 'R'.
Maybe it's Rufus, she thought. But that really wasn't likely.
"Hello, Monica," Phoebe said as she sat down.
"—So Rachel, would you want to come on the trip? Oh, hi, Phoebe."
"What trip?" Phoebe asked, drowning out whatever answer the 'R' girl—Rachel—might have had.
Monica took on what might be interpreted as a pained expression, but Phoebe was sure it wasn't. After all, they were friends. "I'm going on a camping trip. With a friend."
"Take me!" Phoebe said.
"If you hadn't noticed, she just asked me," Rachel cut in. "Anyway, Mon, I'd love to go."
"But can't you take two friends?" Phoebe asked. It was worth a try.
Monica felt bad for Phoebe, in a way. She didn't have that many friends, but she really wasn't a bad person. "Uh... sure."
"Monica!" Rachel hissed.
"Rachel!" Monica mocked her friend's expression and tone, making them both laugh.
"So when is it?" Phoebe asked. She could tell that Rachel didn't like her, but she didn't care. Rachel was a stupid prep.
"It's happening over this weekend. Come over to my house on Saturday?" Monica asked Rachel and Phoebe.
"Sure," they both said.
Then: "Ewwww," Rachel moaned. "My hot dog is cold in the inside!"
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Ross placed his books in his locker, grabbing his wallet and heading down to the lunchroom. He was late for lunch again because some stupid gang of kids had held him up in the hallway. Apparently Monica had told Rachel that he still had dinosaur toys lining his shelves. And of course Rachel had told everyone that she even remotely knew in the school. And then of course a few of his classmates had decided that this was the time to try to shove Ross into a locker. It wasn't really HIS fault that he liked dinosaurs; SOMEONE had to.
Okay, Ross, he told himself, calm down. This day will be over soon enough.
He got his lunch and sat down at a mostly empty table. The only other person was sitting with his head slumped over his arms on the table. He looked like Chandler—what was it? Bling? Bing?--, whom Ross had talked to a few times, though it was hard to tell from a view of his back and the top of his head.
"Um, hey," Ross said.
"Yo," the figure said flatly and sarcastically without raising his head, as if he didn't care who was talking to him or why.
"Um, are you okay?" Ross asked. He really had to stop 'umming,' but it was a nervous habit that was hard to break.
"Peachy," the person said, in that same monotone voice.
"What's wrong?"
"Who cares?"
"Um, me." Yes, Ross, THAT sounded intelligent.
He should stop talking to himself, too.
"Who are you?" Chandler raised his head. "But not too loud, because my head feels like crap. Then again, you probably don't care."
"Um, I'm Ross Geller. Are you okay?"
"Told you, I'm peachy," Chandler said sarcastically.
"I meant, what's wrong?"
"Oh, the usual... everyone hates me, my head hurts, my life sucks... And how are you today?"
Ross almost answered the question before he realized that Chandler was still being sarcastic. "Everyone hates you?" he asked instead.
"Yep." Chandler switched positions in his chair so he was no longer completely slumped over and was actually looking at Ross. "And it's not exactly my fault that I've got the dad that I do, is it."
"Mmn," Ross said intelligently. "And your head hurts?"
"What are you, my psychiatrist?"
"Guess so," Ross laughed. Chandler didn't.
"If you really want to know, my head was slammed first against the lockers, then against the wall. And now I've got a headache."
"A few people tried to stuff me in a locker," Ross said. "It didn't work."
Something resembling a smile flitted across Chandler's face. "So I guess I'm not alone. Though you wouldn't happen to have a 'homosexual' father, would you?"
Ross looked somewhat shocked and Chandler laughed at the expression on his face. Strange, though, that Ross hadn't known. EVERYONE knew.
"Well, I'm surprised you didn't know," Chandler said. "Anyway, how's your day been going?"
"I almost got stuffed in a locker because I have dinosaur toys in my room," Ross said. "Other than that, perfectly normal."
"Dinosaur toys?" Chandler asked, and Ross wondered how he hadn't known. That was the kind of thing that got around.
"I'm a geek," Ross laughed. "And my sister has a big mouth and so does her best friend."
"Well, no one told me. If you couldn't tell, I'm not quite in the center of the gossip circles."
"Me neither," Ross said, though it was rather obvious. He only had a few friends, including Chandler, and they were almost as far removed from popularity as he was.
He was somewhat startled when Monica tapped him on the shoulder. He hadn't noticed her approach. "Ross, I've got my two friends, so you're taking one."
"Who's coming?" Ross asked.
"Rachel and that girl Phoebe," Monica said. "You know, she's new. Who're you bringing?"
Ross shrugged. "I dunno."
"Well, goodbye!" Monica said, and was off.
Ross needed to pick a friend to take on his and Monica's camping trip this weekend. They had two tents, one that slept two people and one that slept three. Their parents had told them that "girls take one tent and boys take the other one". That meant that someone got to bring two friends and the other one. It had seemed only fitting that Monica, who had more friends than her brother should take two friends, and that was how it had worked out.
"Bringing where?" Chandler asked.
"Me and my sister planned a camping trip, and we can each take friends. Well, I can take a friend. Actually," Ross said, an idea forming in his mind, "Would you like to go?"
"When is it?"
"This weekend. Saturday to Sunday."
"I don't think I'm doing anything," Chandler said slowly. "I think my dad and his eyebrows can wait—I don't need allowance that bad. Never mind," he finished quickly as Ross raised an eyebrow of his own.
"Okay..."
