Madison's POV)
I walked onto the school grounds, taking a deep breath and picking up a pinecone. "Do you want a pinecone?!?!" I jokingly yelled at my friend, Cidney while holding the pinecone up to her face. "OH LOOK! MADISON HAS ANOTHER PINECONE! THEY LOVE THEM SOOOO MUCH THEY WANT TO FUCK THEM!" Cidney had replied back. I laughed and shrugged it off while my friends laughed too. I ended up throwing the pinecone at one of my friends. It was just a harmless joke, right?
Wrong.
I was so wrong. I couldn't stop thinking about pinecones. We came in from recess. I sat down and heard everyone starting to talk about recess and the fun they had outside. The lesson had started and the pinecones we're out of my mind at that point. Just then, the teacher brought out pinecones for the lesson. Weird coincidence, I thought. I took a breath and grabbed one, not examining the one I grabbed. I quickly sat down in my seat after, and began examining my pinecone. I sighed. I remembered what Cidney had said, and thought about it some more, finally imagining sticking it up my ass. I sigh and look over at my friend, Sam, who had gotten a pinecone similar to mine. They look back and mouth 'are you okay?' to me. I mouth back 'yeah.' they nodded and looked back at the book they had out. Harry Potter and the prisoner of Azkaban. Typical. I looked back at my pinecone and placed it on my lap as I took out a book. The pinecone rubbed against me, making my face heat up. I look at what book I grabbed out of my desk. A history of pinecones, really? Oh dear god. I quickly looked at the proboard, showing the images of pinecones. I went back to staring at my desk. I sighed and decided I would go to the bathroom. "Mrs.teacher?" "Yes?" "May I go to the restroom?" "Quickly." I quickly went to the door and left the classroom. I speed walked to the bathroom. I quickly went into the last stall, the one nobody ever goes to. I sighed and sat down on the toilet. I looked at the floor and took a deep breath. "Why can't I stop thinking about it..." I softly asked myself. I heard somebody walk in, and knock on my stall. "Madi, I know you're in there, open the door." I heard them say. I quickly held my breath and pulled up my legs to make it seem like I wasn't there. Suddenly, the door unlocked, and there standing right before me was my crush. Cidney Rammsonn. I froze and looked up at her, my face was probably red as a tomato. "Madi, come on. Mrs.teacher needs you in the classroom." Cidney spoke softly, almost making it seem soothing to me.I quickly stood up and rushed back to the classroom with Cidney. Once we made it back, I sat down at my desk and looked at my pinecone again. Why did it look like a dick? I don't know. Soon, we were packing up to go home, I remembered that cidney invited me for a sleepover and I had my stuff in my backpack, so we just went straight to their house. They lead me to their room and we sat down, my face still really red. I took a Pokemon card out of my bag and hid my face behind it. "Hey, Madi, wanna watch something?" I heard Cidney ask. "U-uhm..sure! We should watch-" I was cut off by knocking. "Hey! Be quiet please!" It was Cidneys mother. After her mother left, I continued. "As I was saying, we should watch the one musical Sam mentioned in class, I think it was called fiddler on the roof!" I said quickly. "Oh, alright!" Cidney said as they put on the musical. Thanks for the suggestion, Sam. We watched to about a half an hour until Cidney was joking around with me and we randomly started talking about porn. I don't know how the fuck it came up, it just did. Don't ask. Anyway, we were also talking about monster ultra WHILE DRINKING MONSTER! "NO, MADI REMEMBER SAM WAS GOING TO WRITE PINECONE ULTRA!!" She yelled out, reminding me of the Wattpad story my other friend Sam was going to write. "SHUT UP-!" I blushed and remembered the pinecone in my bag. "Wait, don't tell me you have your pinecone?!" "SHUT UP!" Cidney grabbed my bag and quickly pulled out the pinecone. "Oh this is going to be fun." They smirked as they slowly got on top of me...
