"MAX!"
"TESS!"
"MAX!"
"TESS!"
"MAX!"
"NUDGE!" Nudge interrupted Tess and I's odd exchange, skipping toward us.
"So, Tess," I said conversationally, "why so peppy?"
Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she giddily replied, "Because I made the Jazz Band!"
"Clarinet's can't be jazzy." I scoffed.
"Petunia can." She said forcefully.
"Petunia?" I questioned.
"My clarinet." She replied off-handedly.
"I see," I responded, more than a little weirded out. But that's Tess for you.
"So, Max," Nudge said. I could her jaws tensing in preparation for a long speech. "you guys went to the lake, right? And kneeboarded and stuff. Yeah, so, I was thinking that maybe, like, we could perhaps consider the possibility-"
"I think that it's probably smart for me to go ahead and say no in advance."
"But I was just going to say-"
"No."
"Fine, geez." She replied, huffing. Her face brightened instantly.
"Hey, how did Nick do?" She said. I grinned in memory.
"I'd rather not say."
"Why?"
"He'd murder me."
"He really sucked, huh?"
"He was okay, but cocky. Much too cocky."
Suddenly, a big, fancy car pulled up next to us. I mean, RIGHT next to us. It was sleek and silver, and probably had some elaborate name like a Panther or something.
"Who's that?" Tess whispered forcefully. I stared, vexed.
"I don't know. New kid, maybe?"
"Little late."
"It's happened before."
Nudge was getting fired up for a good, long, refreshing babble, but I stared at her pointedly and she stopped, deflated.
At that exact millisecond, O Person of Mysteriousness entered the scene. With much jangling of the bracelets, a perfectly manicured hand pushed open the door, followed by a slim arm and a Hollister-clad shoulder. I was beginning to worry when the first red curl appeared, increasingly so as it was followed by many more, along with a heart-shaped face with perfect complexion and huge emerald-green eyes.
"Holy crap," Nudge murmured, looking her up and down.
"Got that right." I replied.
"I thought we got rid of her!" Tess said indignantly, and a little too loudly. I shushed her forcefully.
"Who cares if she heard? She deserves to hear."
You see, this was, without a doubt, the infamous Lissa Rosalyn Monroe of the Monroe fortune. Her dad, Mark Monroe, was head of a huge multi-national company. Seriously, it was like Walmart on steroids. Anyway, this Lissa kid was a total bee-with-an-itch-on-it's-back to us in middle school. Total slut. Really, she was the Bane of My Existence. I hated her.
At that moment, Nick decided to make his entrance. He swagga-ed over toward us, his face visibly opening. I waved him over.
"See her?" I said when he came over, gesturing madly to the aforementioned slut.
"Uh, yeah," he responded, not getting the point.
"You loathe her now. End of discussion." I said irritably. He looked at me, a ghost of a smile in his eyes.
"Yes, ma'am. Permission to wonder why, Sergeant?"
I hit him.
"Permission denied," I said. He shook his head, eyes still on Lissa.
SOmewhere in the distance, the bell rang. I grabbed his arm, Tess and Nudge following behind, chatting animatedly.
Lissa was close behind. She had obviously noticed Nick, and was blatantly sticking out her chest and putting on the cheesiest, most ridiculous smile on her face. NIck was, luckily for him, not noticing. If he had given any sign that he had noticed her, he would be dead before he hit the ground.
"Come on," I grumbled.
I know this sucks. It was just a filler, but my great-grandma just died and I've had a lot on my mind lately.
I'm sorry for making Tess play the clarinet, I just couldn't resist. It's my life, I had to stick it in the story somewhere.