Stars Collide 【Inanimate Insanity】

【Stick With Me, Learn to Survive】

Nickel's Point of View:

"Look, kid, if you want to get through middle school and come out alive, you've gotta stick with me and learn how to survive."

I felt a rush of responsibility for this sixth grade girl, somehow. Like I was a big brother and she was my little sister.

She told me that her name was Suitcase. She has a head full of tan-brown hair with golden highlights. She speaks with a British accent, her voice cracked a little sometimes.

I was showing her around, as I seriously had nothing else to do. Baseball was assigned to be Cheesy's "welcome buddy", so I couldn't hang out with him. When we got to school that morning Cheesy had cracked his absolutely horrible joke about stars not going to school because they had a degree or something. Terrible.

Before Baseball had finally dragged Cheesy off to show him around, he had cracked several more jokes that made me want to punch him. But I stood and waited for Suitcase.

I prayed for Baseball. I hope he could cope with that Cheesy guy.

"Uh, hey. I'm Suitcase and... um, I'm a sixth grader?"

Doesn't she know if she's a sixth grader herself or not? Why do you need to ask me, newbie?

As I turned around, my vision showed a girl with brown hair. She was short, like me, but at least she was slightly taller than me. Slightly.

Why do I have to be so short?

"I'm supposed to show you around," I told her certainly. That should do it. Learn to be certain, kid!

Suitcase looked around nervously. "Umm, okay?" 

I sighed. 

"What's your name?" she asked as we walked into the building. We passed several seventh graders who were also showing the sixth graders around. Where was Baseball?

"Nickel," I said.

"Nickel?"

"NICKEL."

She seemed to stiffen at my pressured reply. "Oh, Nickel," she whispered quietly.

I thought this Suitcase girl is going a total problem. To herself, mostly. She's gonna learn to survive from me.

"First lesson: Be certain," I said.

That should do.

She tilted her head. "Huh?"

I took a deep breath. "Be certain."

"Oh. Okay. How do I do it?" Suitcase asked.

I smiled sarcastically. "Be certain with what you want to say, what you hear, and what you know. You can't answer with a question when somebody asks you your name."

"Like... how?"

I tried really hard not to scream at her. I'm pretty sure that she was a sixth grader and not a six-year-old. I swallowed my impatience and told myself to calm down. I'm supposed to look after her, show her around, teach her stuff to survive, not scold whenever she gets on my nerves.

"Like," I began, "I'm gonna ask you what school you go to, okay?"

"Okay...?" Suitcase echoed. Or was that her reply? ARGH!

I resisted a facepalm. "There. You replied me uncertainly. You've gotta stop pitching up the last syllable like a question. Does your head say yes?"

She nodded.

"Then say 'okay'."

"Okay," she said. A bit like sighing this time. It's still bad, but at least it's slightly better than a question.