The halls of Shermer High felt unusually crowded that Monday Morning,
Brian thought, as if the walls were slowly sinking in upon him. 1st Period
- Shop Class. Shop class meant twenty-three elephants staring him down with
their painted eyes and looming lights while he sat at his desk - void of
any such tacky creature. But Shop Class also meant Bender. Before Saturday,
Brian would have dreaded coming face to face with "the criminal," after
all, one of Bender's goons was been the reason his elephant lamp had been
lacking a trunk. Not that it mattered now, the elephant was just a scorched
memory of the hideous trinket it had been, and Bender wasn't so scary
anymore. Atleast, not if he thought of him as John, because no one can be
that intimidating with a name like John. John, John, Johnny, Brian thought
to himself and snickered, good ole Johnny - oh he'd get his ass kicked for
that, but boy would it be worth it.
Settling into his vacant seat under the uncomfortable stares of his classmates, Brian cringed as it became extremely obvious word of the flare gun incident had gotten around. "How to Use A Gun," had been written across the chalk board, with the directions, "1. Point 2. Shoot," underneath. It was apparently, to the jocks, quite amusing as they started to make shooting motions and gunshot noises. God Bless the easily amused, Brian thought cynically and sunk lower into his seat. One particular jock in the class, a leader amongst idiots, stood behind him with a bucket of red paint and poured... Welcome back to Hell, ladies and gentleman, Brian thought, feeling the paint drip down him, Hope you enjoy the stay.
Salvation arrived as Bender made his entrance to the classroom - unique and exciting as usual. Surrounded by his usual cloud of smoke, he kicked open the shop door and rolled in on the principal's office chair. Heeeeere's Johnny, Brian snickered to himself, bent over the sink attempting to wash off.
"Hey Bri, I like the dye job," Bender called casually. Face recognition, remembers my name, even added a compliment, this is good, Brian assessed. Looking the jock up and down, still holding the paint can, Bender rolled across the classroom in his chair, sliding until he was right in front of him. "Aww, look at that, caught red-handed!" Bender announced sarcastically,"Get it? Red paint? Red handed?" With that, Bender punched him full on in face, knocking him to the ground, red paint cascading down ontop of him. "Nahh...," Bender said, looking down at the pitiful mess,"Didn't think you would." Turning, Bender walked casually out of the classroom, passing the teacher in the doorway.
"Bender, class is starting now," the teacher reminded him.
"I've done enough damage for the day," Bender flashed a grin and continued down the hall.
Claire and Andy had first period English together, a class hard enough to pay attention to without distractions, but this Monday it became particularly difficult. It was when Mrs. Colville was droning on about "to be" verbs, in a voice that could conteract eight cups of coffee, that they first saw him. The small window in the door didn't give much a view, but they both clearly saw it - John Bender's head rolling by, his hair blowing backwards as the office chair picked up speed. While an unusual, amusing sight, the two managed to put it out of their heads with little more than a soft snicker and tried to pay attention to the monotone lecture. But the second time he rolled by, standing on the chair and attempting to surf, they had to bury their faces in their jackets to contain themselves. And the third time, and the fourth...John Bender kept racing by on that office chair until Claire finally raised her hand and interrupted. "Excuse me, Mrs. Colville, may I please go to the bathroom?" she asked sweetly.
"Oh, oh, of course," she dismissed her and returned to the lecture.
"Tell him to knock it off," Andy whispered as she left the room.
"Bender!" Claire called in the hall,"What do you think you're doing?!"
"Making good use of public funding," Bender replied, patting the rolling office chair.
"You're going to get caught," Claire warned, calling down the hall at him.
"Like one more detention makes a matter to me," he yelled back.
"Why did you choose my classroom to roll by, Bender, if you're just 'making good use of public funding,'" she asked.
"Don't flatter yourself Princess, it had nothing to do with you or your classroom, it happens to be that Carl just waxed this hall, and its perfect...." he rolled by her,"...to slide down." He gave her a wicked grin, and she was about to cross her arms and storm off when she caught sight of his eye.
"Oh my god!" she cried, stepping closer,"What happened to you?!" Angrily he pushed farther away.
"Don't," he growled through his teeth. Ignoring it, she continued to walk towards him, her arm outstretched to push back his hair and get a better look. "I said don't!" he yelled, standing abruptly,"Don't pity me! Don't you feel sorry for me! Don't try and play saving grace to me! I don't need you!" He sent the chair slamming into the lockers and stalked off down the hall, leaving Claire alone and crying.
Wiping her eyes and re-entering the classroom, Mrs. Colville looked up at her. "Oh dear," she exclaimed,"Was there something terribly traumatic in the bathroom?" Claire merely sunk into her seat without a word, as Andy looked at her questioningly.
It had been an unusually long time 'til lunch, Allison thought as she squirmed restlessly in her seat. Her fingers drummed on the table top and her feet tapped on the floor. She'd had to sit through the whole four classes today, because no one sent pretty looking girls like her to the counselor's office. Before, glaring out from behind her unruly bangs and dark circles, teachers had been more than willing to send her off where she was content to look at ink-blots until 12:15 arrived. But now looking normal definetely had its disadvantages, she deduced, as she continued to squirm in her seat. At last the bell signaled freedom, for however brief a period, and she jumped from her seat with a slight squeak, 'cause hey, old habits die hard, and quickly darted to the cafeteria, eager to claim her prime spot in the far back corner. Entering the swarm of students hungry for lunch, she was pulled to the side, out of the mainstream rush. "Hey," Andy said quietly into her ear, as he pulled her against the wall,"Blue looks good on you," he laughed as he tugged at his sweatshirt she was wearing. A smile broke out across her face - He'd noticed, she thought happily, prefered scenario in effect. Gently he kissed her, as they leaned back against the wall. Yup, Allison thought as she returned the kiss, definetely the prefered scenario.
AN: Thank you to all the reviewers! You guys are great! More to come!
Settling into his vacant seat under the uncomfortable stares of his classmates, Brian cringed as it became extremely obvious word of the flare gun incident had gotten around. "How to Use A Gun," had been written across the chalk board, with the directions, "1. Point 2. Shoot," underneath. It was apparently, to the jocks, quite amusing as they started to make shooting motions and gunshot noises. God Bless the easily amused, Brian thought cynically and sunk lower into his seat. One particular jock in the class, a leader amongst idiots, stood behind him with a bucket of red paint and poured... Welcome back to Hell, ladies and gentleman, Brian thought, feeling the paint drip down him, Hope you enjoy the stay.
Salvation arrived as Bender made his entrance to the classroom - unique and exciting as usual. Surrounded by his usual cloud of smoke, he kicked open the shop door and rolled in on the principal's office chair. Heeeeere's Johnny, Brian snickered to himself, bent over the sink attempting to wash off.
"Hey Bri, I like the dye job," Bender called casually. Face recognition, remembers my name, even added a compliment, this is good, Brian assessed. Looking the jock up and down, still holding the paint can, Bender rolled across the classroom in his chair, sliding until he was right in front of him. "Aww, look at that, caught red-handed!" Bender announced sarcastically,"Get it? Red paint? Red handed?" With that, Bender punched him full on in face, knocking him to the ground, red paint cascading down ontop of him. "Nahh...," Bender said, looking down at the pitiful mess,"Didn't think you would." Turning, Bender walked casually out of the classroom, passing the teacher in the doorway.
"Bender, class is starting now," the teacher reminded him.
"I've done enough damage for the day," Bender flashed a grin and continued down the hall.
Claire and Andy had first period English together, a class hard enough to pay attention to without distractions, but this Monday it became particularly difficult. It was when Mrs. Colville was droning on about "to be" verbs, in a voice that could conteract eight cups of coffee, that they first saw him. The small window in the door didn't give much a view, but they both clearly saw it - John Bender's head rolling by, his hair blowing backwards as the office chair picked up speed. While an unusual, amusing sight, the two managed to put it out of their heads with little more than a soft snicker and tried to pay attention to the monotone lecture. But the second time he rolled by, standing on the chair and attempting to surf, they had to bury their faces in their jackets to contain themselves. And the third time, and the fourth...John Bender kept racing by on that office chair until Claire finally raised her hand and interrupted. "Excuse me, Mrs. Colville, may I please go to the bathroom?" she asked sweetly.
"Oh, oh, of course," she dismissed her and returned to the lecture.
"Tell him to knock it off," Andy whispered as she left the room.
"Bender!" Claire called in the hall,"What do you think you're doing?!"
"Making good use of public funding," Bender replied, patting the rolling office chair.
"You're going to get caught," Claire warned, calling down the hall at him.
"Like one more detention makes a matter to me," he yelled back.
"Why did you choose my classroom to roll by, Bender, if you're just 'making good use of public funding,'" she asked.
"Don't flatter yourself Princess, it had nothing to do with you or your classroom, it happens to be that Carl just waxed this hall, and its perfect...." he rolled by her,"...to slide down." He gave her a wicked grin, and she was about to cross her arms and storm off when she caught sight of his eye.
"Oh my god!" she cried, stepping closer,"What happened to you?!" Angrily he pushed farther away.
"Don't," he growled through his teeth. Ignoring it, she continued to walk towards him, her arm outstretched to push back his hair and get a better look. "I said don't!" he yelled, standing abruptly,"Don't pity me! Don't you feel sorry for me! Don't try and play saving grace to me! I don't need you!" He sent the chair slamming into the lockers and stalked off down the hall, leaving Claire alone and crying.
Wiping her eyes and re-entering the classroom, Mrs. Colville looked up at her. "Oh dear," she exclaimed,"Was there something terribly traumatic in the bathroom?" Claire merely sunk into her seat without a word, as Andy looked at her questioningly.
It had been an unusually long time 'til lunch, Allison thought as she squirmed restlessly in her seat. Her fingers drummed on the table top and her feet tapped on the floor. She'd had to sit through the whole four classes today, because no one sent pretty looking girls like her to the counselor's office. Before, glaring out from behind her unruly bangs and dark circles, teachers had been more than willing to send her off where she was content to look at ink-blots until 12:15 arrived. But now looking normal definetely had its disadvantages, she deduced, as she continued to squirm in her seat. At last the bell signaled freedom, for however brief a period, and she jumped from her seat with a slight squeak, 'cause hey, old habits die hard, and quickly darted to the cafeteria, eager to claim her prime spot in the far back corner. Entering the swarm of students hungry for lunch, she was pulled to the side, out of the mainstream rush. "Hey," Andy said quietly into her ear, as he pulled her against the wall,"Blue looks good on you," he laughed as he tugged at his sweatshirt she was wearing. A smile broke out across her face - He'd noticed, she thought happily, prefered scenario in effect. Gently he kissed her, as they leaned back against the wall. Yup, Allison thought as she returned the kiss, definetely the prefered scenario.
AN: Thank you to all the reviewers! You guys are great! More to come!
