The Two of Us

Tetris

"My guy, what's with the look? It's just a high five."

"I don't know, there's just something about this that's suspicious to me."

"What am I gonna do? There clearly ain't nothing in my hand. You'd see it if there was."

Blair contemplated for a moment before finally giving Leslie a high five. Immediately after their hands connected, Blair found a gold star sticker stuck to the palm of her hand. "How—?"

"You looked away for a split second while deciding whether or not to slap hands with me."

Before Blair got the chance to ask any more questions, she was once again cut off by the bell and Leslie bolted from her seat and out the door like she was being chased by a murderer.

"Well, alright then." Blair turned to me. "Did you see that happen?"

I shook my head. "Nope. What's the sticker say?"

Looking back down at her hand, she said, "'I appreciate you.'"

"Oh. Wholesome."

"Yeah... I'm still suspicious, though."

I began to pack away my shit. We were in Mr. Fitzgerald's class, meaning that school was over now that the bell had gone off. "Why?"

"The last time she was acting like this, I had just returned from the attendance office after being called down during study hour. It took me five minutes to realize that she and Freddy had Saran wrapped my bag and hung it from the ceiling while I was gone."

"Hung it from the ceiling? With what?"

"Fishing line that she had acquired from Old Man Clifton."

"Clifton... He's the janitor that's taken to loudly complaining about how difficult the upkeep is for Afton's coconut throne, right?"

"That's the one," Blair confirmed, standing up. "Do you want to go to your locker or mine first?"

"Uhh... I think mine is closer." 

"Yours it is then." She grabbed ahold of my hand and began to drag me out of the classroom, into the hall, and towards my locker.

Once we had reached it, I entered my combination and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. As per usual. "Fuck's sake."

"You need some help?"

"No, I've just gotta like..." I kicked it as hard as I could and it finally popped open.

"You know, I have wondered why I frequently see shoe prints on your locker," Blair commented.

I would've felt bad about the shoe prints if my locker wasn't already covered in graffiti from students of bygone years.

"Yeah, there's something wrong with this fucking thing." I pulled my gig bag out, which caused my math and chemistry textbooks to fall to the floor. "Shit."

It was a literal miracle that I managed to fit my gig bag in my locker, even after rearranging my junk. I, however, did not have the same luck with my pedal case, which Blair allowed me to put in her locker upon exiting the media center in the morning and spotting me struggling to play another round of Tetris with mine.

And of course, I didn't fucking hear her walk over because my dumbass can never hear when people sneak up on me. She ended up standing behind me for multiple minutes while I muttered every variation of fuck I knew under my breath. Apparently, it was incredibly amusing to watch.

The only things Blair even kept in her locker were her AP Literature textbook and the extra bag she sometimes brought when she had ballet class after school, so my case easily fit in hers.