Franke moved to his lunch table, with some delicious mashed potatoes, a side dish of peas, and a big soft-baked cookie. Vernon put away his yo-yo trick books, and pulled out instead a huge book. It was printed in hard, black leather, with many grinning faces on it - the More than Complete Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. He flipped to a certain page of a certain book within the large novel.
"What're you reading?" asked Franke, not because she missed the cover, but to try and get Vernon's brain on anything but books, books, books! She had a plan - she slid Vernon's book towards her slowly. She leaned her head into it.
"Um, excuse me, I was reading that," said Vernon, moving his face farther forward. Franke smiled. "I like this book, especially the part about...um, shooting the guy and going to the party."
"Hehuh, hehuh, yeah, how they say they're going to the party. That's funny." chuckled Vernon, and his hand touched Franke's as he went to turn the page. However, unlike plan, he was not embarassed, shocked, or interested. He slid the page over, as if to completely ignore Franke. Franke sighed, staring straight at Vernon, who was totally engrossed in the story, trying to add to his own crazy stories. His stories that Franke would always listen in to.
"So do you do anything besides tell stories?" asked the less and less interested, but still lovestruck Franke. Vernon racked his brain on this one.
"Well once I ate dogfood, one time I played guitar, this other time, when I was little I picked my nose and-"
"You play guitar?" Franke was amazed. And a little disgusted by the dog-food eating quality. Vernon sighed.
"Yeah, my mom made me do it. It's kind of fun, but lessons aren't." He grumbled. "But one time, I was playing, and one of the strings broke and rode up and actually pulled off my fingernail. I was in horrible pain and had to make an artificial fingernail, to stop the pain and bleeding!" Franke sighed. She pulled the book away, bookmarked it kindly and slowly, so as to perfectly mark the page, then slam the book shut.
"Why do you not want me to read?" said Vernon. Franke grabbed his hand and jerked on it for him to stop looking through his pockets for any reading materials, even a candy label. "Am I really less interesting than books, Vernon?"
This got to him. "Um, uh, eh, no, it's just that, um." He droned on and on, not knowing what to say, red in the face.
"So talk to me!" replied Franke, at advantage here.
"Well, um, do you like yo-yo? Hackey-sack? TV?" Vernon was at a loss for words.
Franke cupped Vernon's chin in her hands, and drew herself forward. "Or how about we skip the talking, and-"
Kitty sat down next to Franke. "...What are you doing with Vernon?" she asked, as the two red-faced kids stared straight at her.
"Ummm. Don't ask me." said Vernon.
"Franke, don't tell me you want to be as unpopular as him?"
"No, no, it's just that..."
Kitty smirked, silencing both of them with that evil glare, ruining a moment just as called for. And shortly after, the lunch bell rang.