At last, he finished every bite of his pizza. I sighed, more than ready to leave. I stood up, and began to walk away from the table. I realized that Finny wasn't following me. I rolled my eyes, and turned around to see what he was doing, and, just as I had predicted, he was fast asleep, his cheek resting in pizza grease. He looked strange, almost like he was dead or something.
I wasn't going to give up. I was going to school, and nothing was going to stop me, not even Finny.
I knew how to drive well enough. And, since I had my permit, and Finny had his license, it was perfectly legal for me to drive.
I tried to shake my blue-haired amigo awake, to no avail. He was dead to the world of the living. I ended up dragging him out the door. When the cashier gave me a funny look, I smiled and commented, "It had to be the oregano."
Soon, I was on my way to third block. Spanish. Finny could stay in the car for all I cared. I just needed a liable excuse for coming in so late. Finny would've known a good way to sneak in, or a good alibi.
I sighed, and decided that it was imperative to wake him up. I slowly pulled into an unoccupied parking place.
I turned to find him, fast asleep in the passenger seat. His hair shone an unusual purple color. His eyelashes twitched every now and then with his breath. Finny always wore faddish clothes. At the moment, he was wearing loose, tattered jeans and a long-sleeved designer shirt.
I elbowed him, and he yawned, and sat up. He suddenly snapped to attention. "Oh, no! I've been captured and taken back to prison! WHYY!"
I facefaulted. "Think of some way for us to go to school without getting in trouble," I requested, trying to be as polite as possible.
He yawned again, and then smiled evilly. "I have the perfect plan. Do you have any fake beards?"
"No," I replied, making a face at the question.
He snapped his fingers, unrelentingly. "Darn. Oh-kay, I have another plan. Follow my lead."
He jumped out of the car. I slowly unbuckled myself and got out as well.
Finny seemed to be acting like he wasn't doing anything wrong. He walked, non-stealthily, up to the office building.
"Finny, we're gonna get in trouble!" I shout-whispered. "I was thinking more along the lines of just, you know, sneaking in! Not telling them that we decided to come to school at our leisurely pace!"
"Don't worry!" he responded. "I've got it all planned out."
When we reached the check-in window, Finny strolled up to it and leaned across it dramatically, startling the secretary.
"Hi, Miss Stuckey," he said, easily.
The elderly woman smiled, in recognizance. "Well, hello, Finny, honey. How are you?"
"I am just fine," he told her. "Now, here's the thing: for some reason, the two of us are on the absentee list. Can you straighten that out for us?"
"Oh, goodness me!" she exclaimed. "I wonder how that could have happened." She began to shuffle through some papers, and made a circle around a section of one of them. "All fixed!" she announced.
"Thank-you, Miss Stuckey!" Finny exclaimed. "We'll be going back to class now!"
Just as the words left his mouth, the bell for third block rang. He gave me a sly smile, as I shook my head.
"Sometimes, you amaze me," I muttered.
We made it to Spanish I before the tardy bell rang. I sat to the left of Finny, and Finny was next to a girl named Valerie. Everyone knew that she liked him. Everyone except Finny, who chose to deny it.
"Hi Finny," she waved. "I like your hair." Valerie had long, brownish hair. She was taller than both myself and Finny. She always wore very short skirts that tended to ride up whenever she moved her legs.
I didn't like her.
"Hi Val!" Finny replied, enthusiastically.
"Buenos días clase," Mrs. Cortez greeted us.
"Buenos días, Sra. Cortez," the majority of the class replied.
"¿Cómo estas?" she asked.
"Muy bien, ¿y usted?"
"Muy bien, gracias. ¿Y, Phineas, qué usted ha hecho al cabello? ¿Por qué es azul?" Sra. Cortez asked, casting a sideways glance.
Finny looked completely confused, and said that only thing he could: "No sé."
Sra. Cortez continued with our "leccion."
I could tell that Finny was entirely bored with himself. He usually was if he didn't have someone to bother. He threw a couple of paper footballs at a boy named Jim, who was sitting in front of him, but other than that, he remained extremely bored.
At last, the boring majority of school was over and done with.
We were on to history class. Which was also extremely boring.
On the way, Finny proved once again that he was more popular than me. Several people spoke to him, or patted him on the shoulders, or even ran their hands through his hair.
"Hey, Finny-man! What's with the hair?" Brinker wondered. "What's up, Gene?"
"Hey, Brinks," Finny replied.
Brinker was the only person who spoke to me.
"Hi Finny," a girl said, shyly. "I think your hair is pretty." She was a cheerleader, one of the ones that got thrown up in the air. She was hot.
"Hi Kelissa," Phineas waved.
"What's up, my man?" some guy I didn't know shouted.
"What is up?" Finny responded.
"I like the 'do," he said, passing by.
"Thank-you," Finny called back.
A red-headed girl named Amy practically leaped into his arms, and said, "Hello Finny."
"Why, hello," he said, giving her an odd look. "I see that you're having a good time."
"Your hair looks totally turned on," she commented.
"Like a light bulb?" he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. "Umm...no..." She rolled her eyes and walked away.
"You really know how to chase them off, don't you?" I asked, flatly.
"I try my best," he retorted. "We need to start carrying baseball bats or something. I never knew that there were so many people I know in the hallway. I just wanna get to class-well, I mean, I don't, but I don't exactly want to be mobbed in the hallway. You know where I'm coming from?"
"Yeah," I lied.
At last, we made it to history class. Most of the other students were already seated. I sat at the end of a table next to Finny and a boy we knew named Chad.
Mr. Smith, the history teacher for over fifty years, couldn't seem to stop staring at Finny's hair. I didn't blame him. It was such a bright blue tint that it caught even my attention sometimes. Mr. Smith must have decided to leave it alone, because he said nothing of it. He began the lecture, as if nothing was different.
I began to take notes like I was a machine. I took notes so fast, I felt my hand would fall off. The thought made me laugh in reminiscence. Once in an English class, our teacher made us take notes for an entire hour non-stop. Finny had passed me a note, saying that he wished the teacher's hand would fall off. Unfortunately for him, she took it up and read it in front of the class. Finny nearly died in either embarrassment or revelry.
Mr. Smith droned on about British colonies for some time. After about ten of fifteen minutes, Finny fell asleep. Mr. Smith didn't attempt to wake him up. No one ever did.
I continued taking notes like there was no tomorrow. Halfway through the class, we watched a short film on the Crusades.
At long last, our principal came over the intercom with the afternoon announcements, and before I knew it, school was over.
On the way out of Mr. Smith's room, I asked Finny, "Will you give me a ride home?"
He shook his head. "Can't. I've got track and field practice. I'm gonna run some laps."
I sighed. "I don't see why you're even interested in things like that."
"It's sports!" he objected. "What's not to like about it?"
I shrugged. "I just don't know what you think it'll get you."
"Well, say I got drafted into the War," he proposed, "then I'd be quicker than any Iraqis would."
"Whatever," I concluded. "I've gotta be going, though. I have to find a ride home from someone."
"You can take my car," he offered, jogging off. "I'll run home!"
I didn't doubt that he would. I just didn't want to be arrested for driving without a licensed driver.
I supposed it was inevitable that I track down Ollie once again.
I found him standing in front of my locker. I walked quickly up to him. "Hey, Ollie, what're you doing here?" I wondered.
He smiled a creepy smile at me. "Hi Gene, I hoped I would see you here."
"Why were you hoping that?" I asked him.
"Well, that's what I always do after school," he explained. "I always wait for you by your locker."
"Oh-kay, then," I said, casting him an odd look. "So, can you give me a ride home?"
"Of course-you're not going to Finny's, are you?" he muttered, darkly.
"Um…..no," I answered.
"Sure, I'll give you a ride!" he exclaimed, enthusiastically.