Judging Covers

Get backs

So basically the war of the century starts.

To be fair, it was they're fault. They deserved all their chairs and tables to be glued to the floor.

Unfortunately, they retaliated by throwing all our stuff everywhere.

So we spray painted some killer art on their clean white walls.

They TP'd our entire room, with wet toilet paper.

We reorganized all their notes. We got some good blood curdling screams for that one.

They desynced our sound systems.

We took up tap dancing.

They sprayed the entire floor with cooking oil. I have to admit, that one was pretty good.

We stapled all their bags shut.

They nailed our door shut.

We restyled their uniforms.

They cut ours up. That one was nasty.

So basically we just warred for a week.

And everyone was getting nastier and nastier and patience was nearly gone until finally - both our groups run into each other in the middle of the hallway. It's a cowboy movie like showdown. Complete with rolling weeds.

I glare down Milton, he smirks back at me. Everyone is glaring at someone.

"I demand to speak to your leader." I say. This is all Mikey's idea. I was happy to keep pranking but.. . . He says he's older therefore the voice of reason so we should try for a compromise.

Milton snorts. "Speaking."

I narrow my light eyes at him. "Follow me." I say as imperiously as possible, well it could have come off more effectively if I didn't have gym sweats under my school skirt but. . . Oh well.

He does, shockingly silent, into our club room. His Fivers go to follow. My Fivers, teehe, stop them. An argument breaks out.

Milton ignores them and I hear Daniel punch the wall. That guy is seriously wound up too tight.

"So." Milton breaths, like we're friends or something. And flops on our old makeshift couch made out of discarded mattresses and table cloths. "What's this about."

I breath in, count ten, like Mom taught me, and turn a wide, fake smile at him. "We should talk about a ceasefire." There, I said it. Hope you're happy Mikey.

He raises a blond brow at me and his lips quirk to the side. "What's that mean exactly?"

I roll my eyes at his dumbness. "C'mon Milt, just this once, can't you stop being a pretentious Rear End and help me out here?" I finally say and kick at his long outstretched legs.

He avoids my kick and sits up, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped between them. His blue eyes stare straight into mine. I sigh. Here it comes.

"Can't you stop being petty and leave us alone to study?" He says predictably.

One thing I hate about Milton? He's always so stupidly calm and collected, like he knows everything and what's going to happen next and it makes me crazy.

"You guys started it!" I say angrily.

He shrugs. "You continued it."

"We should be allowed to play our music and dance." I snap back.

"We should be allowed to study in peace. Besides, you know yours is a lost cause." He says smoothly. "We want to study, at school, where studying is supposed to take place, you want to play loud music and waste precious hours of the day." He knows he's right. I do too, there's no room for creative license in this numbers oriented school.