Question one.

  1. No, to be honest, but that's only because they apply to normal people, and you're better.

  Cally had been in one of those moods that day, where you wake up pointedly fixed upon feeling miserable. Everything seemed to side in her favour: a Monday morning, a broken alarm, a late run, a frizzy head of hair, rain and no umbrella. The lessons had dully merged into one and she had taken notes and kept her head down. Of all people, George had walked past her on the way home, where the flow of girls from her high school and boys from his combined and meandered into a midst of teenage couples. Cally had decided not to bother with conversation, because as soon as she had looked up his phone was out and he was talking loudly to his new girlfriend. After flirting and dropping hints with Cally all year.

 "Of course, babe. I love you. No I love you more. No, I love you more! No, I love you more!" Cally gritted her teeth and quickened her pace, her bag smacking against her hips. One of the worst things to do in a mood like Cally's is to list everything that could be deemed "wrong" with one's life. Which inevitably she went on to do. Cally was too busy trying not to cry that she ignored the cries of her friends, Joe and Francoise.

  "OI! CALLYYYYY! I'm your best friend, you can't just IGNORE MEE!" This fortunately reached Cally's ears (how could it not?) and she turned, smirking mildly at Francoise's attempts to run without looking completely stupid/ like an eleven year old/both. She took Cally's arm in hers and Joe grinned at her, almost apologetically. Cally had to admit, Joe always cheered her up, even where her best friend failed. All the same, it was more than just "the dumps". Cally felt down in the cesspit.

  The three talked as they walked along the usual route home: to the bus stop to drop off Francoise, then to the cinema where Cally got a lift from her father. Cally's mood lightened, though her mind was still fixed on a familiar topic.

  "Joe you do science: is there some formula?"

  "Whuh?" Joe looked over and Cally laughed at his distorted expression.

  "You know..." Cally waved her arms about to counteract her lack of articulation. For somebody so creative in art, she was finding it hard to sum up her feelings. "Everyone is coupled off- is there something wrong with me? I mean, I thought maybe introverted girls were more likely to have boyfriends, but then you look at Francoise..."

  "I most definitely would not say that Francoise was introverted." Francoise, the head of the debating society. Francoise, who couldn't resist talking back to teachers (yes, even in sixth form). Francoise, who belted out songs as they walked into town on weekends. It would be a major insult to call Francoise introverted or quiet of any kind.

  Cally mused for a second, and then carried on: "Well...it's just after the whole George thing-" Joe nodded and Cally could've sworn she saw him grit his teeth, before looking down. "I'm in one of those anomalies. The world and her sister has a boyfriend right now! But I don't fit in any group...Oh, I don't know. Sorry, Joe, it's me being silly. There isn't any reasoning, is there?"

  Joe went to speak, and then went against it. Instead he pointed to the milkshake parlour next to the cinema. "Can I interest you," his mock haughty tones caused Cally to snigger. "in a chocolate supreme, madarrm?"

 "Why, good sir, I thoughteth you would never arrsk."

The End

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