Hey everyone who has seen this chapter and is reading this little note right now. =D Sorry for not updating in . . . some while. But here are some responses to your wonderful reviews. =]
TrunksBriefsDBZ: Haha! Yes! How can I not let Trunks interfere? C': We need a little brotherly kick!
Demanding Little Lavender:
Here is Cece's response:
Cece: I am the CCD [Closet and Cleaning Device]. I guess the child's nickname has stuck with me for life. No matter, at least my name isn't Jose. And thank you for your devotion to my time and effort! Pan does not appreciate it! *sigh*
nikki-michelle: Cece does think of everything. C= But not in this chapter.
mrpopohoe: Just putting it out there –MR. POPO IS THE BOMB! =D They'll meet up very soon, very soon, I'll tell you. It'll just take time. =]
I have to admit, math wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be. No one's brains exploded, so I take it as a good sign.
". . . and that wraps up the lesson for today," Mr. King concluded as he shut his teachers' edition textbook. "You may pack up and wait by the door until the bell rings."
Once again, like the beginning of the class, the students shuffled around in their backpacks, but instead of taking supplies out, they were putting it back in. I followed suit.
"What's next?" I asked as I zipped up my backpack. The corner of the binder stuck out and made my backpack look lop-sided, but I shrugged and left it alone. I shouldered my bag and made my way to the door I had come in during the start of class.
Bulla pulled out the folded paper from her short pocket and unfolded it. She flipped it around and said, "We have English with Mrs. Pretty. It's in room 1-A."
"It's actually pronounced 'PRA-DAY', but she doesn't mind 'PRETTY'," a girl piped up. She was standing next to us with her straight, glossy orange hair. She smiled warmly at Bulla and I. "Hi, I'm Isabelle, but you can call me Isa."
"Hey," Bulla greeted as she tucked her schedule away in her pocket. I'm glad she had her schedule because I kind of . . . lost mine.
The bell went off and the crowd of students started shoving their way through the door to their next period.
"Mrs. Pretty's classroom is just down the hall. I wish I could show you guys, but I have to go to science. Bye!" Isa said and she rushed out the door.
We exited last and walked slowly so we could read the classroom number that matched the one on our schedules.
"1-A . . . 1-A . . ." I kept repeating. "1-A!"
Bulla swiveled her head around, tossing her pink hair up into the air and back to resting on her shoulders again. A bunch of kids walked into the classroom and so did we. The first thing that struck me was how bright the room was. It could be mistaken as a greenhouse! To shield my eyes, I used my arm to block out the sunlight.
"You must be Pan and Celeste!" someone said. I assumed it was Mrs. Pretty because she grabbed both my hands and shook them wildly and did the same to Bulla. "I am so glad to have you in my class! Please take a seat!"
I had no idea what she had said. Did she offer me a chair? Because they looked comfy and I wouldn't mind taking one home!
Nah, I'm kidding.
"Thank you," I said, hoping it was the right time to use it.
"Oh, no problem, kiddo."
Bulla and I walked to two sets of empty seats, away from most of the students. I heard a bunch of whispers, but couldn't tell whether they were good or bad. I observed my fellow students and took out what supplies were needed and Bulla just copied me. What I noticed was I didn't have an English textbook like the others, so I raised hand like any good kid.
"Yes?" Mrs. Pretty asked. "What do you need?"
"We don't have a textbook," I said.
Mrs. Pretty slapped her cheek softly and gasped. "How could I forget? I will bring two books tomorrow, but right now, I cannot. Please sit next to someone who has one," she said. "I'll go ask Ms. Barning if she has any extras."
I nodded and looked around nervously. There were only very few familiar faces I knew from math, but that was it. I never really thought about buddy work until now.
"You can sit here," a boy said. He waved someone over, but I couldn't tell if it was Bulla or me, but my best bet was Bulla. I turned away, flushed to look for a different partner. "You," he said again. I had no other choice than to turn around, take a deep breath and drag a chair to sit beside him.
On the other hand, Bulla got partnered with a girl, which made me angry and I bet Bulla would die to trade places with me. I can relate.
"Okay, ladies, gentlemen, let's begin with this weeks' vocabulary words," Mrs. Pretty said loudly, but her voice was loud enough.
I watched as Mrs. Pretty scribbled some letters on the chalkboard and I tried to sound them out in my head just in case I was called on to pronounce it or something.
"You're Pan, right?"
It was my partner.
I ignored him and tried to listen to Mrs. Pretty's lecture on 'conspicuous'.
He poked me with the sharpened end of his pencil, but then retreated and got out a pen and started writing on my arm.
"Hey, stop that!" I yelled. I yanked my arm away from the stupid brat and checked my arm for any marks. They were just a bunch of numbers, but the last number looked unfinished.
"What's going on?" Mrs. Pretty demanded. She sounded strict and straight-laced, unlike the Mrs. Pretty I had met a few minutes before. "I demand an explanation for you two interrupting my class!"
"He was writing in pen on my arm!" I said, showing my new tattoo. "I was trying to listen, but he kept poking me!"
Mrs. Pretty's sharp eyes directed from me to the boy with fierce anger.
"Andrew, I told you before, you are not allowed to write your phone number on girls' arms in class! No, you must not do that ever! Detention for this week with the principal!" Mrs. Pretty slammed her textbook down on the desk and clenched her teeth together as she wrote something down on a slip of paper, threw the pen aside and told Andrew to get out.
"Yes, ma'am," Andrew said, but he still eyed me. He stood up and walked out of the room.
"I am so sorry, Pan," Mrs. Pretty said while shaking her head in disappointment. "Please find another partner."
I nodded and found someone else, but all period, I kept thinking about Andrew –not in that way! Yuck!
After that class, we had recess and Bulla and I headed out to get a head-start on finding our classes, though it wasn't too hard because the next class was gym. I had no intention on acing classes, but gym was definitely one I'm looking forward to! I mean, seriously, have you seen those shows? The awesome girl always slams the volleyball into the mean girls' faces. It's always been a life-long dream of mine.
"Andrew is cute. You're so lucky he wrote his phone number down on your arm," Bulla said. "Did you see his adorable eyes? Aren't they dreamy?"
I raised an eyebrow and covered up the numbers with my free hand.
"He's all yours," I said.
"Really?! Thanks, Pan, you're the best!" Bulla squealed and she hugged me tightly.
"Yeah, no problem," I said, awkwardly trying to escape her hold because people were staring.
"Hey, nice to see you guys again."
I looked up and once again, we had met up with Goten. Make that twice again.
"Oh, hi, Goten!" Bulla said with her eyes sparkling in delight. What happened to Andrew?
"You guys heading to gym?" he asked, using his thumb to point to the end of the hallway. We nodded. "Bulla has third period gym too. Maybe you guys can be friends or something." Goten shifted when he said 'friends'.
"Great," I said. There, sitting right in front of me sat my new mission: finding out whom this 'Bulla' is and why she was trying to be Bulla.
"Thanks, Goten," I said for the first time to him. "Let's go, Bu – Bum-bum. Gym is next and I don't want to be late for it!" I grabbed Bulla's wrist and we ran off to the other end of the school where everything was pretty much deserted.
"Bum-bum? Nice cover-up, Pan," Bulla said and she let out a small laugh. We slowed to a walk and pushed open the double doors.
I hadn't even thought of athletic clothes to bring to gym.
We girls were in the locker rooms changing into gym clothes. Out of heels, flats, and boots to comfortable running shoes. Embarrassingly, I looked down upon my black and white high-top converse.
"You didn't bring any gym clothes?" someone asked. My head cocked up in surprise. The voice belonged to my locker neighbor, Paula. I nodded and managed a weak smile. "Yeah, I did that on my first day too. I'm sorry, but I don't have extra gym clothes, but if I did, then I would let you borrow them, no doubt. Sorry."
"It's fine," I said, but it was so loud and my voice was so small, I don't think Paula heard it. Just in case, I checked my backpack for anything Cece might have packed, but there were only papers, pencils, and pens. No luck.
I sighed and walked lazily out the locker-room door and into the fresh morning air. Someone grabbed my wrist and dragged me all the way back inside the locker room.
"Here."
I turned around and caught a pair of running shorts and running shoes.
"You're probably my size."
I looked up at my savior to thank them, but to my surprise, the girl in front of me was Bulla. Bulla Briefs.
The so-called new-found daughter. Yeah, that Bulla.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Yeah," she said and offered a smile. "Now get changing or you'll be late to class!" She skipped off and out of the locker room, her blue hair swishing from side-to-side.
I changed out quickly and ran as fast as I could outside.
"Soldiers, go run your daily mile. Go!" was all Mr. Gout said. I had no idea what to do, so I followed the rest of the students, making me trail behind. Mr. Gout didn't even greet me or anything –I don't think he even noticed that two new students had joined his class. It was completely embarrassing to be one of the last ones running in the class, but I had no choice. For the next run, I prepared myself and tried my best to remember the route.
'Bulla's' running shorts and shoes fit me, but the shoes were a little too big and the shorts were a little too large, but I didn't mind. As long as they didn't fall off, I'm good.
After the last kids were finished with their mile, Mr. Gout escorted us into the gym, where he explained the rules of basketball. If you really want to know, then I'll tell you. I actually listened and understood to what Mr. Gout said. Freaky, huh?
Someone tapped my hand and I took a brief glance at who it was.
Marron!
She smiled at me. Her long braid had turned into a tight, messy bun and she turned her attention back to Mr. Gout.
". . . now, I have your teams ready," Mr. Gout said. "Melissa, James, Trunks, Paula, Henry, and Rebecca. You are one team. Pan, Bulla, Steve, Marron, Riley, and Amy. You are two. West, Meghan, Hannah, Regan, Willie, and Celeste. You are team three. Jessica, Miguel, Christian, Nikki, Greg, and Annabelle. You are team four. One versus two and three versus four. Go to the courts!"
I jogged to the correct course where my team awaited me.
"Hey again!" 'Bulla' said. "What was your name? Sorry, I didn't catch that."
"My name is Pan," I replied, quickly regretting the words that escaped my mouth.
'Bulla's' face went pale and she blinked.
"That's just her nickname," Marron cut in. I was relieved. "Her real name is" –she snickers –"Marzipan!" Marron burst out laughing along with the rest of my teammates. It was a good save . . . but a bad one. Oh, was she in for something!
'Bulla' calmed down a bit and looked relieved. "Oh, that's a cute name," she said.
"Why did you look so . . . out of it?" Marron pressed on, but it didn't seem like she did.
"Oh, I just knew someone named Pan and she was sort of a snob," 'Bulla' said. I was infuriated! I am not a snob!
Marron chuckled. "By the way, I'm Marie. I assume you are Bulla?"
Marie? Now THAT was something to laugh at! . . Right . . .? Okay, Marzipan is worse, I admit it.
"Let's play already!"
I glanced over my shoulder and it looked as if the other team were ready to play.
"Stop stalling," the person said again. It came from the lavender-head named Trunks. Bulla's older brother.
Well, if he wants a game, then game on!
*Little Note*
I had totally forgotten that in high school you call your teachers 'professor [insert last name here]'. I apologize for that mistake, but I am not fixing it because I write my stories on my computer and then transfer it to my so I can update. My phone is very stupid, so it can't exactly edit well. xD