𝑬𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝑴í𝒂 | ᴮᵒʸ ᴹᵉᵉᵗˢ ᵂᵒʳˡᵈ

35: Match Maker

"Cryano De Bergerac stands in the shadows, whispering poetry to the lovely Roxanne. But she thinks it's the good-looking guy speaking to her." Mr. Turner said. "So, our poor big-nosed lug wins the heart of the woman he loves, but he wins it for somebody else."

"That is so sweet and so noble that he would sacrifice his own happiness to help his friend." Topanga said. "Other opinions?" Mr. Turner asked.

"Loser." Most of the class said in unison. "Okay, define "loser." Mr. Turner said.

"Big. Dip." Shawn answered.

"It makes no sense. I mean, he likes this girl, and then he passes her onto another guy." Cory said. "Dip. The biggest." Shawn said.

"Topanga, can you refute the dip theory?" "Cyrano performs a totally selfless act, and he does it for the sake of love. That is so romantic." She answered.

"Why? What does he get out of it? He knocks himself out, spewing poetry, his friend gets the girl, all he can do is go home and blow his big nose." Shawn said.

"Rebuttal from the estrogen section." Mr. Turner told Topanga. "Boys don't understand the passion and romance and will never understand women."

"Amen to that." I muttered. Topanga turned around and looked at Cory. "And that's why all of you will spend half your lives confused and the other half paying alimony." The girls in the class clapped.

"This is interesting. The women here find Cyrano compelling and romantic, and yet the men find him misguided, and uh... dip-like." Mr. Turner said, wandering down the row of desks before stopping at the door.

"What does this tell us?" "Women like dips?" Cory responded. "Sorry, Matthews, no luck. It tells us that men have a hard time understanding what women find romantic." "Will that be on the test?" Shawn asked. "Oh, yeah. In ways you can not yet imagine."

♥

"I'm telling you the macaroni and cheese had more grease than Harley's hair." Cory said as we walked down the hall. "I think that's how they made it. They just turned him over and rung him out." Shawn replied.

We laughed but stopped as we turned the corner and saw Harley, Joey, Frankie, and some girl Harley was going out with. We gasped and pointed.

"And I thought it was gonna be a slow day." He said, walking towards us. "You thought we were talking about your hair? No, no. Everybody knows your hair's not greasy." Cory said.

"Why don't you test it and tell me?" None of us dared to move. "Go on, Adriana-Camila. Touch the man's hair." Shawn said.

I reached my hand up and passed it through the side of Harley's hair. With the amount of gel, I felt he could play Danny Zuko in Grease. "Dry as the desert." I said with a nervous laugh. "That's what I thought, Cupcake." "Cupcake? Who are you calling cupcake, greaseball?" I replied.

Cory butted in. "You're not a greaseball, Harley. Your hair's dry as a bone." "Here's a quarter, Baboon. Call your parents. Say goodbye." "Harley, you know in many countries what I said about your hair might be considered a compliment. For example— Greece." He rambled as he walked backward towards the phone.

Harley's girl laughed. "That's funny." She said, crossing her arms and looking at Harley. "Yeah, yeah. He's a pretty funny guy." He said. "So, I guess I get to live, huh?" Cory asked. "There's that humor again. I will miss that."

"Aw, Harley, are you sure you gotta beat him up?" The girl asked. "Yeah, you don't wanna do something ugly to us in front of this beautiful angel of the hallway." Shawn said, looking at the girl. I glared at him as the girl moved her attention to Shawn.