The Legacy Of Jewelox

CHAPTER 22

     “Rachel, let’s get going”, I helped her up and poked her towards the door. She had my beanie over her head cuz I had purposefully cut a lock of her hair. She was irate.

     “If I didn’t know you're Liz, I'd have howled thinking of you as an Egyptian mummy”, she grinned, limping over to the door.

     Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! My leg!

     “If I didn’t know you as my best friend, I’d have throttled you” I beamed her direction, pushing her out the door again.

     “I’m quite capable of walking, Missy! You don’t hafta keep pushing me”, she snarled, hobbling.

     I pushed her once more, but this time towards the left corridor. “I MEAN MY WORDS, YOU WRECKED WITCH!”, she flared, turning around to give me a glare that directly altered to a scrunched up look of leg pain. I sniggered as I used my left leg softly if only for 2 seconds and then giving the force on my right.

     “Everyone’s gone mad!”, Rachel exclaimed as she earned a lot of looks and laughs. We halted outside staff room.

      The two boys came out with a short beautiful young fair lady in her twenties who was grade 9-D’s class teacher, Ms. Angel.

       “Wazzup, Ms. Angel”, I waved at her, tilting myself to lean on the wall right next to Rachel who was having a hard time keeping both feet on ground since I might have NOT-AT-ALL-PURPOSEFULLY slipped a whole box filled with all sorts of heavy things on her knees which looked swollen the last I'd time I had a look at it.

      Our teacher jerked her head towards us, contemplating our condition.

     “Oh, hello there! You two look...rather...”, she paused, trying to find the word. “Gut-wrenching”

     “I know right!”, Rachel gave an understanding nod.

     “Well, this only gives me a better reason to place a complain”, Ms. Angel huffed.

     “You show her, teach!”, Rachel encouraged her.

     “If anyone else tries to start a fight with you guys, please, come to me first. Let’s see how they take it”, she instructed sedately even though she was outraged by what happened. “Well, what’s happened has happened”, Ms. Izzy came out of the staff room looking at me and Rachel anxiously. “Damn...”, quipped Ms. Ana, following behind Ms. Izzy.

    “Well girls, I’ve got a few papers to wrap up. Liz, don’t come to school the day after tomorrow with another silly justification for not doing page 110 to page 196. I’m not gonna swallow up another reason and say nothing like the last time you said that your father was going to the Persian Gulf so you had to see him off at the airport and you were too busy crying and buying yourself six extra tissue boxes to dry your tears last night and you ended up catching a cold and the next day, you were miraculously as fine as the oil factories. Nope, not gonna buy another one of those stories from you. Pass the message to your best friend, Hazel as well”, said Ms. Angel as the teenagers were banging their heads and hands on the walls while laughing out loud.

     “I wonder what you dream of”, Ms. Izzy laughed.

     “It probably involves wanting to go to Oz and walking down the yellow brick road so she can find the Wizard and ask him for a purple flying unicorn. Then she’ll get a stuffed toy instead because the Wizard isn’t exactly a Wizard. Then she’ll be so disappointed she’ll jump into a hole and end up in Wonderland where she’ll get a hat and become Mad-Hatter's apprentice. She’ll fit right in. The end!”, Theo took in a deep breath after his rant about me making the others including me laugh our heads off.

     “How're you feeling, Liz? Rachel?”, asked Ms. Ana.

     “On a scale of blueberry oatmeal muffins to Chocolate rainbow wedding cakes, I’d say I’m strawberry muffin”, I shrugged, my mind wandering off to Foodland.

     “Translation”, Rachel said at the confused look upon everyone’s faces. “She's a four or five on a scale from one to ten, ten being perfect. Odd enough, I feel like blueberry oatmeal muffins”

     “You know me so well”, I dramatized.

     “You guys are so weird”, commented Ms. Angel.

     “Thanks for the compliment, teach”, I grinned.

     “That wasn’t a compliment, Liz”, corrected Rachel.

     “When you’re with me, ‘weird' is a compliment”

     Rachel sighed, helplessly. “Well, we’ll see you tomorrow then”, Rachel waved at the three teachers, turning to leave but only to be halted by sudden chortling from the teachers and the boys. “Why’re you people laughing as well?! Is there some kinda Nitrogen gas in the air that me and Liz can’t smell?”, she snapped. I gave her my most innocent smile which was actually a trademark that says I’m up to no good.

     “Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no!”, Rachel let out a shrill cry, feeling the back of her cardigan stuck with sticker papers. “I should’ve KNOWN! LIZ-SUMMER! YOU-ARE-DEAD-MEAT-TODAY!”

     “I am already”, I yawned coolly.

     “Well, I’m gonna show you how blueberry oatmeal muffins taste like!”, she flared making me laugh. “Stop laughing, in the name of the seven skies!”, she gritted her teeth at me, removing her silver cardigan and dispatching three sticker papers. She clenched her jaw at the pink one and slammed it on my nose.

     “OUCH! WHAT THE ABSOLUTE MOTHERFU—”

    “LANGUAGE, LIZ!”, everyone chorused.

     “What the actual wizarding broomstick?! Violet's already broken it enough. You could’ve done it next year when my nose is as perfect as an elephant's”, I moaned, rubbing my nose.

     “What is this?”, Rachel polled legitimately.

     “A small excellently drawn tummy-filled burping pig, I’d say”, I nasalised, admiring my art skills.

     Rachel was turning red. She showed me the peach paper and repeated the question.

     “A stickman Harry Potter holding his wand out saying ‘Avada Kedavra! I do not agree with you people! Rachel is an idiot!’ to all the stickman haters thronged in the toiletry”, I smirked. Rachel's look was unreadable. She waved the last green sticker paper in front of my face.

     “You ought to get new spectacles, XOXO”, I smiled sheepishly. “But I’ll tell you anyways. It’s a fire-breathing dinosaur standing near a volcano shouting ‘I LOVE MY TEMPER JUST BECAUSE LIZ LOVES THE SATISFACTION!’”

     Oh no... Gas leakage from her nose.

     Everyone were literally laughing like madmans.

     “Erm...”, I said nervously.

     “Time to run for your existence, Liz!”, guffawed Ashton. “NOT-FUNNY!”, Rachel snapped, crunching the papers and throwing them into a nearby bin.

     I turned the other way and started limping as slow as a slug—but fast in my point of view—for my dear life. Rachel was roaring behind me, limping, trying to catch me.

     Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! I clutched my knee for the pain in my ankle.

     “Liz, once I catch you, I’ll murder you with peppermints”, she roared from behind as I evacuated the building into the golden blazing sunlight outside.

     I curtailed my footsteps at her words and turned around to look at her catching up. “How is that killing, knucklehead?!”, I called out.

     “The more I feed you, the more I can be sure that you end up with obesity, heart disease and diabetes!”, she replied only three feet away from me now.

     “Oh”, that wasn’t what I was expecting. I turned around, grabbing my knee while limping away from the bookworm.

     I paused near our school's stadium as I almost faced death's kiss. The kid's playground was close by, so I had my body benefited by my hand holding a swing. Rachel had an awkward panting session, sitting on the swing next to the one I was holding.

     “What...are...we...gonna...do?” she asked between heavy whiffs when the school anthem started playing.

      “I...dhunnooo”, I muttered. “As me say in zhe inpirmary...me...sthill...noth go thu...Pavis! Me noth wanna...zie by...walging all zhe way...thu...lockher...or...home...room”

     “And... Holy Feast!”, she breathed. “We’re drenching poop perfume!”

     “It’s all your fault...”, I mumbled.

     “WHAT?! How’s it MY fault?!”, she raged.

     “You chased after me without NOT giving the vibe ‘WHEN-I-CATCH-YOU, I'M-GONNA-SHOW-YOU-HOW-LAVA-FEELS-LIKE!’ the whole way”

     “Did NOT! Humph!”

      “Forget it! I don’t wanna waste time arguing...with you”, I said as my breathing eased. I hunched on the baby blue swing, giving it a light push with my weak right leg. I so wanted my beanie. I just feel so uncomfortable!

     “My precise thoughts!”

     “Mm! Now go get me a wheel chair. It’s your fault my ankle's hurt even bad”

     “Go get one yourself. When you do so, get me one too”, she had a twisted smile.

     “Keep dreaming, amigo!”

      Rachel opened and closed her mouth several times about to sayy something. “Liz, look, I'm sorry, K?”, she sighed as last.

      “No sorries in friendship. Can I get your brain out surgically to plaster the rules of friendship with a knife so it will stay carved?”

      She crinkled her brow at me. “Just listen! Imma plaster your mouth afterwards—”

      “So does that mean I still get to excavate your brain out—”

     “No! Imma plaster your mouth NOW—not AFTERWARDS. K? Now, as I was saying, I know I can be stubborn and rude at times—”

     “Yes, you are. Oh, and don’t forget bummer”, I added cheerfully.

     “I'm trying to apologise and of course, you ruin that!”, she barked playfully.

      “What? I’m just agreeing with you”, I added truthfully.

      Her eyes were widened with incredulity. “Touché...”

      “Well, apology accepted!”, I laughed. “And please let this be the last time”

      “Ahem, ahem”, Rachel coughed. “No please in friendships. You were the one who told us that”

     “Oh, puh-leesh! It was filled with sarcasm”

     I phoned Ashton. “Dude, you still at school? Do tell Rex that there'll be two extra hooman-beans in his Honda Civics’ backseat. Me and Rachel aren’t planning on walking with nothing for support so on your way to the Kid's playground, fetch me and Rachel each a stick. Locker keys are in our side pockets. Touch my supply of peppermint, and you'll hafta live without fingers for the rest of your life. My locker's 94268 and Rachel’s is 94267. My locker combination, 30-46-22. Rachel's is 63-16-84. Get here fast! The sun's overwhelming!”, and just like that, I hung up.

     “Wait! Call him again! Again! Again! My locker has all three of my personal diaries and the my locker is decorated stupidly as you last saw it! Call him again”, she shook me arduously.

     “How much do I receive for calling him?”, I grinned.

     “Two sterling pounds!”, she squeezed my injured neck.

     “Woman, you're suffering me!”, I yelped, dialling Ashton's number.

     “Ash, don’t let anyone touch Rachel's locker. You grab the stuff yourself but you touch anything unwanted, you'll be rewarded with a black eye and a damned broken nose”, I hung up for the second time.

     “Liz!”, she whined.

     “He’s as decent as your grandparents. I’ve known that guy for three years now”

     “Well, it still doesn’t signify the fact that he’s gonna see the stupid pics”, she groaned.

     “I'll take care of him if he publishes it”, I promised, biting the skin under my nails.

     “Will you stop hunting your nails?”

     “For the gazillionth time, it’s the skin under my nails!”

     “Well, cannibalism is illegal”

     “And I’m not eating me. I just BITING the skin under my nai—”

     “Oh no! Not that convo again”