“Heads we get married, tails we break up,” he toyed with the coin in his hand.
I almost choked on my soda and had to drag in a breath of air before responding to that doozy of a statement. I received a couple of glances in the process as if the tiny break in silence was earth shattering.
“Lance, she doesn’t even know you exist,” I knew he was talking about Kiara and rolled my eyes.
“Yes she does,” he came to his own defense. “She said hi to me in class today.”
“She called you Larry,” I had to remind him.
“That still counts,” he huffed.
Although he was more than a tiny bit misguided, I couldn’t stand to see that sad little puppy dog look on his face. I had been in love with him since I was eight and watched him rip the head off of my Barbie doll. Then and there I knew we’d always be together. Sigh. I didn’t, however, anticipate that it would include an onslaught of dine and ditches, weekend community service requirements and in this case, detention after school.
“Look over there,” I jerked my head in Cole Hadley’s direction, hoping a change of subject would wipe the dejected look off Lance’s face. He was much cuter when he was smiling.
He looked at me. “What the hell are you doing? Having a seizure?” he asked, smirking. His face distorted as he jerked his own head, mocking my same movements. I realized he was making fun of me and acted insulted, punching him on the shoulder.
“Shhhh!” came a loud warning from the front of the room. Mr. Jacobi was in a foul mood and we were getting the brunt of it.
“I think Cole’s more than just half-baked today,” I continued, whispering.
Jacobi taught shop and we were all jammed into the confines of his sawdust laden room. There were five of us strewn about the various square bar-height tables. Lance and I parked as far back as we could, Cole was up a row and to our right and Lance’s dream girl, Kiara and her dumb ass jock boyfriend, Scott, were closer to the front. Apparently, the duo had been caught getting it on under the bleachers. How very cliche. And Cole… well, Cole was a regular after school delight.
“Look at him,” I said again while Lance precariously honed in on the back of Kiara’s blond head. He broke his gaze free and turned to Cole, slouching in his seat, eyes glazed and skin clammy. You could see even from our distance the beads of sweat dripping off his face onto the table top. He looked… rancid.
“He looks rancid,” Lance echoed my exact thought. “What the hell is he on this time?”
“Is there something wrong with your hearing, Mr. Higgins?” Mr. Jacobi chided from the front of the class. “I specifically said there was to be no talking. You are not the exception.”
[This was based off of a prompt from Writer’s Digest last year. “Heads we get married, tails we break up.” I don’t know why, but somehow I landed in the mind set of high school apocalypse. My mother read what I had and told me it didn’t make any sense so I stopped. I was going through my notepads and found it again, figured I’d post it anyway. I didn’t think it was that bad, but then again I’m a bit biased.]