The Riveting Lives of Russell and Sal

Chapter 5

Sal dropped his paper on Russell's desk. "Don't worry, I wrote the paper last night."

"Great, so did I." Russell handed him his own paper.

Of course Russell would've written his own paper. "Which one do we turn in?" Sal asked, mentally adding this incident to his "Reasons to Hate Russell" list.

"Mine, of course." Russell turned his body around to face him. "I have a better grade."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because all you ever do in class is doodle while obsessively clicking your pen."

"First off, it is impossible to doodle and click your pen at the same time. Secondly, I only do that because I am too good for this class." Sal raised his head high. "I'm college-level good. Thirdly-"

"Alright, I get it. Let's see how great your work is." Russell picked up Sal's paper, eyes widening. "No way."

"See, I told you." Sal fanned his fingers across his chest. "I am a literary genius."

"Is this Comic Sans?" Russell asked.

"Of course." Sal smiled. Comic Sans was so underrated. The world would be a happier place if more people used it.

Russell groaned, putting his hand over his face, then running his fingers through his hair. "You can't write a paper in Comic Sans."

"Let me guess, font snob. You wrote yours in Helvetica." Disgust filled Sal's voice. If there ever was a font he hated, it was Helvetica. So overused.

"No, I wrote it in Times New Roman, 12 point font, double-spaced, with 1 inch margins. Like good students would. Like the teacher said to."

"Who cares," Sal said. "Times New Roman is boring. Comic Sans is fun and friendly."

"Unlike you."

"Excuse me?" Sal picked up his pen just so he could slam it down on the desk. "I am the definition of fun and friendly. You're boring like Times New Roman. That's why you used it."

"No, I used it because that was the requirement. We have to turn in my paper now." Russell tossed Sal's paper aside and snatched his own back. "We can't use yours."

"So just because I used a different font-"

A loud groan interrupted him. "Just bone already!" said a blond-haired boy sitting behind Sal.

"Brad, that's disgusting!" Russell made a retching noise. "I'd probably catch something from him."

Every inch of Sal's body grew warm. He opened his notebook and pretended to be riveted by his notes, only to notice his notes were only doodles. Maybe Russell was right about him only ever doodling in class.

"All you two do is argue. You sound like a married couple," Brad said. "Seriously, shut up."

"I would if he would," Russell said, jerking his head towards Sal, who had his face hidden in his notebook, concentrating on a sketch of Mouser while wishing he was with Mouser.

"Are you red?" Brad laughed. "Aw, somebody has a crush on-"

"Shut up!" Sal tore himself away from his notes and pointed a finger at Brad. "I am sick and tired of you harassing me all the time. I swear-"

Brad raised his hands defensively. "This is the first time we've ever talked!"

Sal turned back around and pretended to doodle as Mrs. Norandi walked in the room. Class commenced.