The TestMature

The bell rang sharply and Drake found himself pushed along in the swell of sweaty bodies. Normally he would have fought back but he was too tired from jet lag to do so.

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a crumpled slip of paper. The numbers on it had bled from his own sweat making them almost impossible to read.

With quick decision, Drake dove out of his line of traffic. And like a busy highway, he was rewarded with middle fingers and shouts of protest as he found himself in the direct path of several oncoming students.

Drake leaned against the wall of lockers, trying desperately to catch his breath. The particular locker he was leaning on was right next to mine.

"Do you have somewhere to be or are you just going to stand there gasping for air all day?" I folded my arms, smiling cockily.

His head whipped to his left, towards me, in astonishment.

"I'm Nikki," I extended my hand, grinning madly.

He took it, still eyeing me cautiously, "Drake,"

"Pleasure," I tipped my ball cap, twirling around to face my locker.

With a clever showy spin of the combination dial it swung open. This was his test.

"Show off," He muttered under his breath, fumbling with his own dial.

"Need some help?" I asked, pointing to the slip in his hand.

He glared at me with loathing, "I think I can manage quite fine on my own, thank you,"

I stuck my head in my locker, rummaging beneath piles of crumpled doodles for my books.

I stopped for a moment when I heard a satisfying click from the left.

"Get it?" I popped out of my locker, smiling.

He was gone. I caught sight of him down the hallway, his shoulders hunched as he made his way to his homeroom.

"Congratulations, Drake, you aced my test,"

 

 

 

The End

5 comments about this story Feed