---Firkle's pov---

I see a girl, one slightly taller than me. Her blonde hair floated below her shoulders, and she looked like your general Nazi cheerleader conformist.

Sally.

There with Sally was Ike. I stared at them for a second, analyzing the conversation.

"-But Ike! You promised!" She whines in her too high voice.

"I know, I just..." then he mumbles something that I can't hear.

"You said you wouldn't. You know what I could do," she says now threatening.

Ike just nods.

"Now, you will take me to the upcoming dance as your date," she declares.

Ike sighs and nods again.

He's taking Sally to the dance? No way.

"Pick me up at 6," she says spinning around, to which I dart back behind the corner as fast as I can.

I stand there, as she skips by not even noticing me.

I turn back and look around the corner and see Ike sitting there.

He looks upset. Why is he upset? He has a normal, girl date to the dance. Hell, he's going to the dance! He's not going to stay home in bed wondering why the guy he likes isn't talking to him.

I'm not doing that either... just, yeah.

"Firkle?"