˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 | Katie Williams and Zack Martin have been friends for about a decade now - and despite Zack's 'overly romantic' tendencies - that is all they've ever been. However, with a change of scenery, going from Tipton on...
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»»» season one, episode six: international dateline ( katie's point of view ) »»»
I SAT BEHIND LONDON AND IN FRONT OF ZACK, LISTENING TO MISS. TUTWEILLER AS I ABSENTMINDEDLY DREW AN EYE.
yes, i was that girl.
"london, can you tell me what this is?" tutweiller asked her, pointing to the map.
"a bad manicure?"
i held back a laugh as i put down my pencil, crossing my arms and leaning back.
"no." tutweiller looked at her hand. "oh ew . . . okay, has anyone heard of the 'international dateline'?" she asked, coming forward.
"what you say to a french babe so she'll go out with you?" woody answered in a hopeful tone.
"no," bailey said, turning back around. "it's an imaginary line created in eighteen eighty-four, to the east of which a day earlier than it is to the west."
"so when you cross the date line, you have to turn your clocks back twenty-four hours, a full day," cody finished.
"correct. yay." tutweiller clapped. "which is what we're going to be doing tonight."
"that works for me, because if tomorrow is going to be today again, then today is actually yesterday, which means yesterday's homework isn't due today, it's really due tomorrow!" zack rambled excitedly as we turned to look at him.
"so basically what you're trying to say is, you didn't do your homework?" i asked amusedly.
"yet." he pointed at me.
»»»
cody barged into zack's room, gasping, making me look up from my drawing of a random girl's face. i've been practicing lately and i think i'm getting pretty good.
you know, except for the fact that everything i draw looks like a pile of hot garbage.
"dude, you're crying. chick flick marathon or cooking with onions?" zack guessed jokingly as he sat up from the edge of his bed.
"neither," cody said. "woody has been cutting the cheese for the past hour." he sat down on the chair in front of the bed i was on.
"that's what that was?" i chuckled. "thought it was the fog horn . . ." i mumbled, looking back down and finishing the last few touches of my drawing.
