Clint EastwoodMature

School days were long and boring, but I usually made my way through them thinking about my upcoming races, repairs that needed to be done on the Thunderbird, or who my next Coyote would be. Homework was usually left aside, main reports and culminating activities finished in haste and teachers left with unsatisfactory work. Yes, school was good, all and well. For the time being, anyways.

                “Hey, Trix,” I turned from my locker, which was decorated with photos of all the cars I’d ever owned and everything to do with drag racing. Francis, my somewhat nerdy lab partner was who had addressed me.

“Hey man.” I turned back to my affairs in my locker, which was to shove everything I needed for my History final that was coming up.

“I need to know if you can finish the last ten questions about the lab we did today. I really don’t have time, and since I usually do most of the work between the two of us...” he trailed off as I turned my gaze on him again. He nervously pushed his thick lensed glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. Apparently I intimidate him sometimes.

“Well, I guess I could...” I said and tapped my chin with my forefinger, looking up at the ceiling. “But you’re going to have to give me a good reason why you can’t do it. I mean, we both now that I don’t pay attention to anything that you do for the labs.”

Francis’ cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat uneasily. “I... I have a d – date.” His voice cracked up an octave as he spoke, and he once again adjusted his glasses, not looking at me. I smirked.

“Really? Well, who’s the lucky lady?” I was cruel, and I knew it. Maybe that was the reason I didn’t have many friends.

He stared at my with bug eyes for a second. “It’s Melanie. Melanie Cook.”

I almost gasped. Melanie was the last person I suspected to be going out with Francis. She was tall, she was curvy and she was pretty much awesome. Francis... Well, he wasn’t. He did have a hammering case of asthma and near sightness, though.

“Hm, well you two have a good time. I’ll do the homework, don’t you worry.” I reassured him and smacked him lightly in the stomach. “I wouldn’t want to mess up your date with Cook, now would I?”

I gave him one last smirk and shut my locker. I slung my bag over my shoulder and nodded ad him as a way of goodbye, and strode down the hall. I didn’t have to look back to know that he watched my walk away. They all did; they always did.

The End

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