Seduction

17

"You should ask him out." Michael's words drifted around Firkle's mind for a while.

"Just ask him out," he said mockingly to himself at his locker, "It's just that easy." Firkle shifted the random journals, notebooks, and clothes he left in his locker. All he needed was his other blood red ink pen, after his other one went dry.

"What exactly are you talking about?"

Firkle jumped slightly- not that he'd admit it- and glared at the pigtailed girl that stood next to his locker with her arms crossed. "What do you want." It wasn't a question.

She rolled her eyes, leaning sideways on the locker two away from Firkle's. "I came here to talk to you."

"Oh. Great." Firkle rolls his eyes and closes his locker, penless and unhappy. He begins walking away, however she follows him unasked.

"Yes, great," she says looking over Firkle with an analytical glare, "What are your intentions with Ike?"

Firkle slams to a halt and flushed violently. He turns and glares at Tricia, who simply raises an eyebrow with her trademark evil smirk.

"I don't have any," he growls out.

"Uh huh, sure," Tricia replies, "Well, I want you to really think through what you're not planning on doing with Ike. He's my friend, and you're not going to break his heart or hurt his feelings and if you do," Tricia pauses, cornering Firkle, "I'll make it one of my own personal problems."

Tricia back away from him and starts walking away, but pauses turning back to Firkle, who continued to float near the lockers, "Have a nice night," she says rolling her eyes as she leaves Firkle alone in the hallway.

Firkle sighed. This was a bad sign. Perhaps she was trying to tell him that Ike was just trying to be nice to him and Firkle was being a dick even though people were being nice to him.