Other than the fact that the crew bickered about what stores they planned on hitting during the weekend trip, lunch went by pretty uneventful.  Dannon and I chatted about absolutely nothing.  Think I’m lying?  Well, let me tell you. . . .

“Two plus two equals fish!”

You see?  Dannon managed to take a simple, “What’s two plus two?” question and turn it into this: a pointless conversation about fish.  It was like the guy hadn’t attended elementary school.

“Hate to break it to you,” I drawled, not hating this at all, “but a fish isn’t a number.” 

Dannon stared at me for a long time before he opened his mouth.  “Someone give me a paper and a pen!” he called out to the fellow teenagers at our table.  “Brianne is sadly mistaken on what two plus two is.”

Suddenly six pairs of eyes slid in our direction.  They all wore the same incredulous expressions as they stared me down, as though trying to figure out how the hell I didn’t know what two plus two was.  I stared back, utterly confused.  Even Kyla was giving me that look. 

“It’s fish,” Garner and Oliver said blankly.

I stared at them, not comprehending.  How come everyone at this table thought two plus two equaled fish besides me?

Oliver leaned down, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from his bag.  He slid it down, and the crew passed it down until it reached Dannon’s hands.  He thanked his friend, uncapping the pen and bringing it down to the paper.  I leaned forward, watching skeptically as Dannon began drawing “two plus two.”

Except, in reality?  He drew two twos connected to one another—one facing backwards in order to create the illusion that it was a fish not two twos put together.

How the hell could that be considered two plus two?  Our world has been destroyed by such logic—and if it hasn’t already, it would be.  Dannon held out the paper, as though I hadn’t seen it already, a triumphant expression on his face.  “You see?” he said, waggling the paper with a grin.  “This is two plus two.”

I scoffed.  “If you’re going to draw it out as an answer, you need a plus sign.”

“I don’t see a plus sign in the number four,” Dannon retorted, flashing another grin at me.  “You lose!”

I shook my head disbelievingly.  “You’re diabolical.”

“No, I’m logical.  There’s a difference.”

Yeah, because making a fish out of two twos very incredibly logical.  More logical than physics, really.  “Yeah, okay.”  I rolled my eyes, taking a bite out of my pizza.  If you could even call it pizza.  It sure as hell didn’t taste like pizza.

“Oh, remember you’re going to have to go to the game tomorrow,” Dannon said, suddenly changing the subject. 

I turned back to look at him.  I opened my mouth to reply, but my mouth paused, half open, when my eyes met him.  My mouth clamped shut, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.  Had he no shame?  I swear, he was a six-year-old trapped in a seventeen-year-old’s body. 

They guy had a spoon balanced on his nose.

Yep, a spoon.

“What are you doing?” I asked slowly, my eyes latching onto the spoon.  I really hoped that it would fall, but no.  Dannon had to be too skilled to let it collapse.

“Practicing my balancing skills.”  He paused, glancing over at me from the corner of his eye.  “You should try.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as the spoon suddenly clattered to the table’s surface, leaving Dannon looking absolutely dumbfounded.  He didn’t really look happy at the prospect of putting the spoon back into his face, but he did anyway, scooping it up from the table and plopping it onto his nose, his face fit in concentration. 

“I wouldn’t eat with that after if I were you,” I warned, my nose scrunching with disgust.

Dannon chuckled, causing the spoon to fall again.  He placed it back in its “rightful” place, beginning the process all over again.  “I wasn’t planning on it, but thank you for the precautions.”

I raised an eyebrow.  “Technically, since I only gave you one, it would be ‘precaution,’” I pointed out. 

Dannon allowed the spoon to clatter to the table as he reached toward his tray, dipping his finger into his potato.  I watched, unable to comprehend what he was doing as he reached up and dabbed his finger onto the tip of my nose.  He laughed, swiping his finger across my cheek, streaking the rest as I shrieked and tried to back away.

Swatting Dannon’s hand away, I brought my pointer finger from my free hand into my pudding and poked him on the forehead.  And his cheek.  And his arm.  Basically, I poked him wherever I could while he was dodging me.

“Bri, and Dannon,” Shelley drawled, “I would refrain from starting a food fight if I were you.”

We both instantly stopped what we were doing and turned to Shelley.  She was grinning, the amusement bright in her eyes.

“I thought it was cute!” Meghan cooed, resting her chin on her hand.  “Dannon’s usually so mellow at lunch.  Quiet.”

So I brought the hyper side out in him.  Was that what he meant when he said I was more fun to hang out with?  I glanced at Dannon from the corner of my eye curiously.  Dannon grinned, poking me with his still potato-covered finger.

“Touch me with your food again,” I seethed, “and I will drag you to my house and drown you in my shower!”

The whole table burst out laughing.  I realized then how awkward that must have sounded.  Though, if we were at my house, I seriously would have pushed him into my shower.  In a nice way of course. . . . Wait.  Was that even possible?  Of course!  Smile while you’re doing it. 

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t murder our quarterback,” Garner said with a grin.  “You see, because he was missing on Wednesday, we lost.  So, if he’s gone tomorrow, we’ll lose again.  Translation?  Goodbye championships.”

Yes, please translate.  For I do not speak English.

“I really doubt you lost that bad,” Dannon said, shaking his head.  Part of me thought he felt bad for missing the game and staying at my house.  But when I looked at him I saw that he wasn’t upset at all.

“We practically handed them the game!” Garner exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.  “I think we got. . . .”

I immediately stopped paying attention.  I mean, what was so fun about talking about football?  As I looked around, I couldn’t help but note that none of the girls looked interested either.  I caught Kyla’s eye and smiled.  She smiled back, giving me a small wave.  I laughed softly as she mouthed, “Isn’t this so fun?”  Why was she mouthing when we had the freedom to talk?  I mean, wasn’t her enjoyment of this lunch just as important as men in tights running across a field?  Well, I thought so.

I looked away, wiping the potato Dannon had so rudely dabbed all over me.  Well, not all over.  I had done that job.  Dannon chuckled from beside me, but I didn’t look up.  Nope, I refused to make eye contact with him.  That would only make me laugh.  And I refused to give him that satisfaction!  Nope, I would remain calm.  Yeah.  I would.

Dannon seemed to sense what I was attempting, for he bent down and whispered into my ear, “Rubba dub dub, I’m drownin’ in your tub.”

I covered my mouth with my hand, closing my eyes as I laughed.  It wasn’t the words themselves that made me laugh—well, not only that.  It was his tone!  He had a way of making pretty much everything that came out of his mouth hilarious. 

I finally stopped laughing and turned to reply.  I was about open my mouth, and then—

The bell rang.

I swear, this bell was trying to murder me with its horrible timing!

Dannon grinned, hopping up from his chair and grabbing his tray.  “I’ll see you in history.”

| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |

“Hello, class.”

I blinked, gulping down my bubbling anxiety.  Where was Mrs. Carl?  Why was this stranger, this substitute, welcoming us so demandingly?  With a quick glance at the board, I could see that her name was Miss Tanta.  Like Atlanta.  She stood there, holding her ground, sizing us up with her cool gaze.  This always seemed to be the case with substitutes.  They couldn’t trust teenagers.  How rude.

“Hello,” Dannon said cheerfully, sliding into his seat across from mine.

I smiled lightly, giving a small wave.  “Hey.”

He glanced up at Miss Tanta and sighed.  “A sub?”

I didn’t answer at first.  I looked back at Miss Tanta, studying her appearance.  She was younger than most subs—probably just graduating from college.  She had long dirty-blond hair with purple squared glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.  Unlike in stereotypical situations, these glasses didn’t make her look like a nerd.  They made her look threatening—as though if you dared to ask her about them she’d bite your nose off.  It didn’t help that her blue eyes were like ice—maybe even colder.  Combined with her stiff posture, her taste in pantsuits, and her deadly gaze, she was more threatening than any adult I’d ever met.

“That much is obvious,” I said softly, tearing my gaze away from Miss Tanta and back to Dannon—who happened to be much less frightening.

“She was here yesterday, too,” Shelley, who’d just appeared out of nowhere, explained as she sat down in her seat.  You would think that she would keep her voice down seeing how the most terrifying teacher ever was standing right there, but she didn’t.  Obviously, she didn’t care.  “At least, that’s what Madison said.”

Madison.  Nope, I didn’t know her.

“Sit down, sit down,” Miss Tanta ordered sternly, gesturing for some straggling students to have their butts join their seats in holy matrimony.

“Now, I am Miss Tanta,” she explained, folding her hands in front of her as she paced in the front of the class room, daring us with her gaze to speak.

I stared at her, too afraid to make a sarcastic even in my mind about how she’d felt the need to tell us her name when she’d just written it on the board for everyone to see.

Yep.  This woman was that scary.

“Your teacher, Mrs. Carl,” Miss Tanta continued, “will not be attending school for a long time due to some personal circumstances.”  She held up her hand to halt any questioning.  “She informed me that if I tell you, I’ll be reported to the school board.  So, obviously, I can’t tell you.  My apologies.”

Wow.  What the hell happened?        

“Anyway,” Miss Tanta said, bringing a hand through her hair, “she said that she had a huge project planned, so she told me to do this with you.  The project will be due in two months.”

Two . . . months?

My mouth almost dropped open.  Did she not understand that we had lives?  I mean, seriously?  She was making us sacrifice two months of our time!  What the hell kind of project was she assigning?  A time-consuming one, obviously.

“Before any of you freak out, which I can tell you’re all doing internally, let me inform you that this has nothing to do with history.  Well, it does, just not in the way you’re thinking.”

Well, that was very descriptive.  Thanks.

I glanced at Dannon, wondering if he understood what was going on at all.  He met my gaze, smiling slightly.  What did I learn from this, you ask?  Absolutely nothing.

“You will be given a partner,” Miss Tanta explained.  “You and your partner will discuss your lives: the past, the present, and the future.  You will make a presentation on this person’s life and then show it to the class.”

Oooh, so we got to play Stalker for two months?  Fun, fun.  I looked around at my fellow classmates, scouting out who would be satisfactory partners.  I would be okay with Shelley or Garner.  Dannon, obviously.  Though, we’d probably never get work done.  Hmm, who else would be—?

“Okay, here are the listings!” Miss Tanta called out, bringing me back from my reverie. 

And then it began.

“Shelley and Garner.”

I turned and watched as they high-fived each other.

“Michelle and Dom.”

“Kelley and Rachelle.”

The pairs went on and on, and the choices dwindled.  Dannon hadn’t been called either.  It was really sad how I was happy about that.  I mean . . . he was the only suitable partner left!

“Brianne and . . .”

I braced myself.  Oh gosh, there were three other people left.  My eyes shot around fast, at the two others besides Dannon.  I really didn’t want either of those guys as partners.  I mean, no offense to them, but . . . they weren’t the type of people I wanted to do a project with—let alone a two month long project.

“ . . . Dannon.”

I sighed in relief, turning and smiling at Dannon.  Dannon grinned.  “Heya, Partner,” he said softly, holding out his hand.  Taking the message, I slapped it lightly.

Miss Tanta called out the last two people in the room and then continued on with how the project was going to work.  She explained how we could either do a PowerPoint, a taped video, a poster, or any other thing we could think of—as long as we had permission from her.  Apparently the objective was to show our partner’s life in a “creative” way.

I could just picture it now.  “This is Dannon, and he’s smarter than a fifth grader!”

Yep, that was a killer.

I sighed, my gaze shooting up to the ceiling.  I had two months to learn everything I possibly could about Dannon and make a project out of it.

Oh yeah, piece of cake.