Surviving Cibseption

Friends

It had all happened so fast, Annabelle recalled as she slipped her trig notes into her folder.

Her and Clayton were talking more and more. His replies coming in faster each time. They had actually held out entire conversations. Annabelle thought they were friends, so she asked him about it for confirmation. He had replied with:
Yes, of course :)

She was ecstatic and danced around her room to Jessie J that evening. She felt like a preteen again, and that made her cheeks rosey and warm. She embarrassed herself in front of her self.

She wasn't even sure why she was taking trig. She had done plenty of math and she had always passed her classes. It really was only about triangles, but Annabelle cursed the day she thought this course would be easy.

She sighed as others began to pack up around her, and sighed once more as she put her backpack over her shoulders and walked out of the classroom. People in the halls bumped into her, and she sighed once more then, but not out of annoyance. It seemed as though she couldn't stop sighing or smiling. It was plastered on her face. A few people smiled back.

Whenever she tried not to grin, she made a strange sound that eminated from the back of her throat and she couldn't help but smile again. Her mood was elated and she could point out good qualities in people she didn't even know.

You may be wondering why her smiling so much might be a bad thing.

Well, the reason that her smiling would be particularly bad, especially during sixth period, would be because today was the day they were watching a documentary about the Holocaust.

Once she saw the gas chambers and torturous artifacts, however, she finally stopped smiling for two reasons:

1. The holocaust, and war in general, upset her immensely.

2. Annabelle didn't want people to start rumors. I.e Did you see Annabelle in class today? She was smiling when they showed the gas chambers.

The tubby man with a slight Northern England accent explained how the Nazis would kill anyone that wasn't, perfect, basically. At one point he mentioned something about homosexuals being killed as well, and a guy said, "serves them right," and the surrounding populous snickered behind them. All of them except Annabelle.

She scowled and pulled her long sleeve shirt further down her wrists, then chewed on the fabric that smelled sort of like cinnamon. It certainly didn't taste like cinnamon. That was sort of disappointing.

·~·~·~·~·

The first time Annabelle Chastain smiled at Francis Henderson was something he'd never forget. Or always remembered.

Francis Henderson had noticed that the girl sitting in front of him, Annabelle Chastain, hadn't laughed at his joke. Maybe she was sick, he thought. He decided to pester this hot babe by tapping her shoulder and confronting her about it.

"Did you hear what I just said?" He chuckled. He was extremely close to the side of her face, which was illuminated only by the blue tint of light coming from the projector in the dark room.

She turned, their noses touched, and in that millisecond Francis was determined to win this girl over.

·~·~·~·~·

Annabelle wanted to slap the guy in the face for even saying anything bad about homosexuals, but she didn't. She wanted her reputation to remain clean and free of any unconformities. Instead, she just smiled at him and shrugged her shoulders, then turned back around.

·~·~·~·~·

Annabelle was obviously flirting with him. That's all Francis could think about. He knew that she noticed how good he smelled. He sprayed a cloud of cologne on his swim team hoodie before he put it on this morning. He knew that it would impress someone, and it just so happened to impress a popular babe. When the bell rang he followed her out into the hall and grabbed her hand.

"I'm Francis. Homecoming's coming up, right? You should go with me."

He flashed his toothy, overly white grin and ran his free fingers through his dirty blonde hair.

She would obviously say yes. No one could resist Francis Henderson.