Just for further notice: 'Strider Chapters' are chapters in Dave's point of view. Kind of self-explanitory, I know, but better to be safe than sorry.
Also, they'll most likely be shorter than the normal chapters.
Why the fuck did you say my name's slim shady. What the hell. Who does that kind of bullshit. Juanita? Come the FUCK on. You can do better than this bullshit. God.
Your name is DAVE STRIDER, and you basically just regret everything you do right after you do it.
Mon cherie, oh my GOD. Where did that even come from, actually?
You fuck up on one of the crows. You set your pen down on the table, glancing over at Mr. Ray-Bans, who is looking at your paper like a kid looks at a deer when they see one for the first time driving down the road or something.
Wide-eyed amazement, like he's looking at the Mona Lisa fresh from DaVinci's god-like hands.
You hate to admit it, but it feels pretty good.
It also feels pretty good to have someone think you're cool. Sure, he's the biggest geek on the planet (or he at least looks the part), and he probably thinks everyone's cool, but still. You don't know. It's weird.
You crack your knuckles and fold them in your lap, returning your attention to the dumbass teacher you just put the smack down on moments ago.
Everyone always thinks that you don't have an appreciation for intelligence, but it's the opposite actually. Intelligence is something you hold in the highest of respect, and although people may not see the importance of having a sharp mind and a quick wit, you do.
Because let's be honest, dumb people are a life suck.
Why is Ray-Bans still staring at me? That's hella creepy. Bro, I can see you. Yes you, with your lame ghostbusters bullshit tshirt.
And just like that, he looks back at his paper, and you feel a twinge of regret for thinking about it.
He'd probably have a nice silhouette, you reason, not really sure why. The hair is kind of distinguishing if anything, if the glasses weren't visible.
"You know, the 'sly looking at people out of the corner of your eye' thing only works if you actually do it out of the corner of your eye." He whispers bemusedly, and your mind yells OH SHIT and scares the hell out of your heart.
You hope it doesn't show on your face and you just chuckle and turn back to the whiteboard.
Fuck fucking shit fuck what the hell oh god fuck haaahaha hoooly shit okay.
You have a feeling it's going to be a long time before you let yourself forget that one.