When the first chore is done, Jones and I are allowed to rest for a half hour until the next chore. I quietly run into the main hallway and fiercely grab the telephone, seating myself on the floor.

I dial the only number I know by heart and wait for it to pick up.

"Carrie?" I ask, when I hear the click of the receiver being lifted up.

"Marion?" She asks back.

Relief sweeps over me and I can't help myself from spilling completely.

"Oh, Carrie, it's awful. You know that student my father has got, this Indiana Jones? Well, he's horrible. I hate him so much that yesterday we got into this tumultuous fight and I punched his lights out and-..."

"You slugged a twenty six year old man?" She asks, clearly impressed.

"Well, yeah, but I-."

"How tall is he?"

"About six foot something."

"And you're what, five foot one?"

"And a half!" I add.

"Well, what happened after that?" She asks.

"Abner saw the whole thing, canceled school for two days and assigned us to multiple chores to do together, IN THE SAME BLOODY ROOM!"

"Wow. That sucks for you." She says, sympathy clear in her voice.

"I know. He makes me so mad, Carrie, you have no idea. And just twenty minutes ago, we were working together and we weren't even talking. It was so uncomfortable. It was awful."

"Why don't you just shove him off a cliff and be done with it?" She offers, completely serious. (We talk about killing people we dislike all the time. It releases hateful feelings.)

"It's not that simple, you see." I say, and then, leaning closer to the phone, I whisper, "He's kind of cute."

"Really?" Carrie asks, intrigued.

"Really. He's not like the other nerds that Abner teaches. He's got class, a sense of humor and this really nice sounding laugh and-." I stop, completely shocked at what I am saying.

"So, you like him?"

"Of course not! I despise him!" I yell into the phone, probably blowing her ear drum out. "I'm just saying he's one of those people that sticks in your mind. You'll know when you meet him."

"I'm going to meet him?!" She yells excitedly, letting off a squeal of delight.

"It's not that big of a deal." I grumble, wishing I hadn't said anything. Carrie's like that. Boy crazy. Independent, but still boy crazy.

"When? When can I meet him?" She asks.

"You won't like him." I protest. "He's totally not our type."

"Speak for yourself. I happen to like wise men. May I remind you it was you that had a crush on a total idiot, Brandon Marlo?"

"That was the sixth grade!" I defend.

"It still counts!" She cackles.

Suddenly, Jones walks into the room. His hands are in his pockets and his glasses-less eyes are trained on the floor.

"I have to go Carrie." I whisper.

"Talk to you later Marion Marlow!" She shouts. (We both know that I hate that last name, seeing as the boy it belonged to thought I was too skinny to date)

I hang up the phone and remain in my hiding spot, determined not to be seen by Jones. But then, my stupid nose has to start itching. And before I know it, I let out a extremely loud sneeze for a girl my size.

Jones looks down at me just as he passes me. We stare at each other for a while, me putting plenty of reproach in my stare. After about ten seconds, he shakes his head aggravatingly and walks away, leaving me on the floor.

I sneeze again, not bothering to try and hold it back. I glare at the phone.

I blame the telephone, I must be allergic to it.

Stupid phone.

Useless shorts are going to be common for a while and so is silence. Obviously, it won't last forever but something will happen eventually. Maybe not something extremely romantic, but definitely something to advance the hate-hate relationship. Hinthint. And I also want to add that the telephone WAS around in the 20's so no one question that. Review PLEEEAAASSSE!