Helpful Birds and Jazz Vultures

"If you were a cartoon character, you'd be one of those too cool, dark, jazz vultures with a British accent."

He lifted his eyes from his calculus textbook and stared straight ahead at the wall across from him. He laughed to himself, barely a puff of air from the corner of his mouth, and flicked his long hair. He didnt do so to get the hair out of his eyes, he essentially just shifted it to look at her better. He dropped his pencil loudly against the book, and leaned back in the overstuffed chair he was in, his elbows barely resting on the arms.

"What in the actual fuck did you just say to me?"

Even though he was smiling, most people would've taken the way he said it negatively. Most things he did were taken negatively. His mother swore he was going to make "Resting Sullen Teenager Face" a household phrase, like, well, Resting Bitch Face. With the curtain of hair, dark clothes, and the way he curled into himself, he definitely wasn't approachable. He grew nearly ten inches in one summer, it felt like overnight to him. Suddenly he was taller than everyone around him by a mile, he started hunching to disguise himself. At the same time, his voice started to change, so he started speaking very quietly in attempts of avoiding his voice cracking and embarrassing him. He was aware he was standoffish. He was fine with it.

"You know, when most kids movies were vaguely super racist? The background characters were always super obvious over exaggerations. Vultures were always the coolest, the underground scene sort of cool. They had the ridiculous Beatles haircuts and spoke with the long monotone British accent."

"This horribly racist, dated, laughable stereotype is what I'd be, if I were a cartoon?"

She tilted her head to once side, squinting slightly as if she was examining him further. She tapped the eraser of her pencil against her chin, her right foot bouncing slightly in front of her. All at once she straightened her posture and stopped moving, her ponytail swishing to the other shoulder was the last thing to rest. Then she gave one solid nod, and she went right back to moving and bouncing.

"Yep. I've been thinking about it."

Her green eyes bulged slightly as she realized what she'd said, and she puffed up her cheeks and let out a slight squeak before she suddenly was very interested in the homework in her lap. She was sitting in a similar chair to the one he was in, but she was sitting sideways, with her legs over one arm and her back resting against the other. As she pretended to go back to her homework, he was able to study her profile. He closed the book in his lap and leaned forward, not taking his eyes from her. He smiled as it was clear she was fighting not to steal a glance at him, the blush in her cheeks slowly spreading to her neck.

"You've been thinking about me?"

She took a moment, he could see her swallow hard to clear her throat. Before she spoke she lifted her face slightly, which made it look as if her nose was sticking up. He thought her nose suited her perfectly, she swore that the reason everyone thought she was a priss was because her nose pointed up just slightly at the tip. It was true, her first impression usually came off that way. But he knew, she really was a bit of a priss.

"I didn't say that."

"You just monologued and gave me an expansive, elaborate description of what cartoon character I would be. In order to achieve that, you were thinking of me at great lengths."

At this, she slammed her pencil against her notebook, and spun around in her chair, placing her feet on the floor in front of the chair. She scooted slightly towards the end of her chair. She was tall, too. Not as tall as he was, but the same summer he shot up, she doubled in height just in her legs. She sat so her hands were in her lap, but she was leaning over them, her knees just touching his.