Deciding Between The Twin Brothers

Chapter 7: Crazy Jenny

HURRAY!

Anyways, the rest of the classes before lunch went by slowly and it was a little –actually, a lot– boring, but I learnt something!!

Of course you learnt something, Ariel, a little irritating voice said from the back of my mind, you're a nerd!

Don't you dare give me a name tag! I yelled back at it, No one deserves to be called a nerd.

Yea, yeah, The voice sighed. I suppose.

Did you just finally agree with me?

What? no– I didn't– The voice protested, but eventually gave up, whatever.

As I was saying...It's the time of the day I actually enjoy. The time when meat, sweat and, most of all, cheese envelops the air in a thick mist! and, wonder of wonders, I can be surrounded by sweaty students who may or may not have showered in the morning! God, don't you just love school?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not actually judging the not bathing thing and I do actually like when we have to go for lunch. Probably because I get away from the teachers who want me tutoring some kid on a Friday night, leaving me yapping about one thing or the other. Then, somehow, I'll end up meeting the kid's parent and having dinner at a really expensive restaurant, which I won't be able to afford. Then, I'll probably say something bad, they'll abandon me, I'll pay for everything, and BOOM! there goes my savings for visiting an art museum. For anyone who has questions: Yes, I speak from experience.

But, to think of it, I should actually–

Bump!

Staggering back, I bump into wall and hit my head in the process. Causing, not only embarrassment, but also the amazing satisfaction of having your head hurt.

But guys, you can't blame me for this! Someone bumped into me. At least it isn't my fault, right?

Blinking rapidly, I glanced away from the wall and come face to face with the she baboon herself.

"Ugh! My head!" Mia exclaimed, her hands flying in the air to touch her forehead, which, by the way, didn't seem as red as mine!

Her eyes wondered around the hallway until they landed on innocent minded me, slightly touching the reddened surface known as my forehead.

She eyed me, eyes blazing with fury, which, may I point out, where not there when she scanned the hallway. "Why the hell weren't you looking where you were going?"

I'm sorry, what?

Honestly, I wished right now I could collide my foot with her cheek. But, for some unknown reason, I can't even bring myself to say a word to her. Memories of us once painting each others' foreheads, (Don't judge us we were crazy little kids) laughing and grinning at each other, flashed through my eyes repeatedly and I felt my legs weaken as I remembered how that'll never happen again.

Yet, through gritted teeth, I was able to point out a fact: "You bumped into me. Not the other way around."

"And whose fault is that–?"

Yours.

"–You were walking in my direction!" She took a step closer to me, her dark brown eyes getting angrier by the second.

Today the queen of the baboons (Honestly, I don't have anything against baboons. In fact, I rather eat something a baboon cooked up for me than listen to Mia talk about shoe laces) is dressed in a purple thigh-length skirt, white shimmering heels and a black leather jacket with a purple crop top underneath. I had to admit: She really knew how to dress to impress.