You Great Prat.

Smooth move Falladae, real smooth. You are such a no-brained lump of sheep dung. Going and upsetting someone for no good reason, just because of your own paranoia.

You great prat.

"Want me to slap you?" asked Sylfael, apparently catching his mood as he walked beside him along the corridoor away from the Geography classroom. Falladae nodded subconsciously, yowling when he felt his friend's hand make sharp contact with the side of his head.

This is brilliant. Now she'll think I'm a total douchebag and probably never speak to me. And I hardly know her! Argh, I'm such an idiot!

I'll go and aplogize later, when she's cooled off a bit. Ah nuts, I hate it when this happens. Perhaps she could have been nice, but no, I went and put my big fat foot in it and upset her.

Remind me to go bash my head in later.

Looking up, Falladae saw Ireland talking to Ackerly, watching Snow storm off. Ireland looked after her, a concerned look on her face. She turned and went after Snow, Ackerly following grudgingly. Falladae groaned and slapped his forehead.

This really isn't turning out to be my day.

The End

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