Ashley ✓

Twenty-Nine | Blueberry

SOTC: Dare (La La La) by Shakira

"So Ashton Kutcher is now skipping the evil toaster down the aisle so it can marry the gluten-free blueberry, right?" Ms. Zigenhorn gasped, raising her hands as she goes, "And then, BOOM! Edward uses the force to invert the doors. The greens, beans, potatoes, and tomatoes scream as he professes that he's going to explode my ex-cousin's roomate's twice-removed Taki! Oh, the horror!"

"Did Edward Cullen explode the Taki?" one guy who I think was named Cash asked.

"He did not, for there was another force at play!" Ms. Zigenhorn replied.

"Who?" another girl asked, and I turned to find the voice from Jordyn's gang.

Ms. Zigenhorn yodeled out, "MONTANA TUMBLEWEED!"

One day at West High, we the people, or I guess everyone in seventh period History, silently decided that fueling Ms. Zigenhorn's tirade about her dream (which was probably a secret acid trip) was more entertaining than doing the current worksheet.

I didn't know about anyone else, but I was actually intrigued about whether the American Flag was going to bodyslam Edward Cullen into Ashton Kutcher so they could fly into the Empire State Building.

I know that made no sense— just like this story.

"Who's Montana Tumbleweed?" another guy goes.

"Montana Tumbleweed is every man, woman, and child," Ms. Zigenhorn explained. "He, she, and they is a spiritual being that if I divulge any more secrets about, I will explode right here in this classroom."

Buzz!

I pulled my phone out of the jean pocket situated on my ass to find a text.

Mustafa: your hair looks nice today.

I had to blink a few times to process the text from the boy behind me before I responded.

Me: thank you. what do you like about it?

I figured that I must've changed it even though I always kept my hair down when I sent the text, and I was about to put the flip phone away when it buzzed again.

Mustafa: all of it is just over your shoulder today, which doesn't usually happen.

Me: i'm sorry, did you just say usually?

I texted my exact thoughts as I looked over my shoulder to find his brown spheres quickly glancing up at me before returning to his phone. He was wearing his red checkered kefiyeh today, which he paired with the notorious white wifebeaters.

I was facing in front of me again when I got the text.

Mustafa: eyes on the teacher, ashley.

Me: that's pretty rich coming from you considering your last confession.

Mustafa: as long as i'm rich.

Me: that is an illogical statement. the proceeding sentence did not imply that you held wealth physically or mentally.

Mustafa: ashton kutcher sticking his tongue down the gluten-free blueberry's wedding cake is an illogical statement, too. they're literally blood brothers.

Me: no, they're siblings. the teacher literally just said that. start using your ears.

Mustafa: stop tryna copy me.

Me: literally, how am I copying you?

Mustafa: actually nevermind. your use of the word literally makes me figuratively insane.

Me: oh so now you're copying me?

Mustafa: so you admit to initially copying me? and how am I copying you?

I ignore his first text when I send:

Me: because you sound articulate.

Mustafa: you calling me not articulate?

Me: да

Mustafa: فتاة, did you just call me a terrorist in whatever language that is? cause I'll send a bomb after u.

Me: did you just call me a bitch in arabic? cause I'll send the American feminists after you if you did.

Mustafa: you wouldn't do that to me

Me: yes I would

Mustafa: damn. then if you were a gluten-free blueberry I'd eat u.

Me: that's what she said.

Mustafa: which she would say that?

Me: the teach.

Mustafa: fair enough. you win

Suddenly, I was raising my eyebrows as I texted back:

Me: but seriously, did you just say you'd eat me?

Mustafa: okay that sounded way wrong. it was intended to say that if you were a blueberry, I'd give you a slow painful death. like so bad you'd squirt.

It was a miracle I didn't slam my head into the desk when I replied:

Me: mustafa, read over your text

"Oh shit."

The whole class silenced as they turned to Mustafa, who had his eyebrows raised at his phone.

"Dang, Muchacho, you look like you've seen a before and after picture of a meth addict!" Ms. Zigenhorn exclaimed. "Everything okay there, Mustafa?"

"Yeah, a YouTube title just said Harry Styles made Taylor Swift bodysurf at a Travis Scott concert, but it was just clickbait," he said after a pause.

Everyone chuckled, and Mustafa flashed me a quick glance.

"With that out of the way, it is now time for the season finale!" Ms. Zigenhorn announced.

But a second before he announced it, my phone made a last buzz.

Mustafa: meet me at my car after school gets out.

<><><>

"Hey," I said thirty minutes later, shutting the door as I entered the passenger's side of Mustafa's car.

"Yo," he said.

"So, um, did you want to hang out?" I asked after a pause.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to do that and I..." His voice trailed off before it cleared. "Yes."

"What?"

Mustafa kept his stare on the view provided by the windshield as he strung together the following words in a sigh. "I'll rejoin basketball if you watch Xavier, but you have to let me pay you well."

A smile rose on my face.

"Holy shit, you knew I'd say yes."

I cupped my palms over my leg, rubbing my lips together. "Oh, I just had my suspicions."