Brian may not have been the brightest student in the class, but he had a good enough grade in biology to know that people could not, in fact, die of boredom. However, sometimes American History made him a bit unsure on that fact.
As the unbearably bland classroom drifted in and out of focus, and Brian could almost feel the pencil sliding out of his tired hand, he came to the realization, he came to the realization that he just might be succumbing to Death by Boredom right now. His eyelids began to droop as he prepared to enter dreamland... it was so much better than American History.
A sharp kick in his back forced Brian out of his reverie. "Wake up!" hissed a voice that Brian immediately recognized as Matt's. "If you fail out of this class, I won't be the dumbest kid in History next year!"
"Shuttup..." grumbled Brian halfheartedly, checking to see that their conversation hadn't come to the attention of the substitute at the front of the room yet. "I'm bored as hell..."
"You think you're the only one? Write stuff on your desk or something. Just look busy!" Brian scratched his head lazily. With his friend's mouth running behind him, there was no way he could catch up on his sleep now.
Just as he was about to ignore Matt's suggestions, Brian noticed the clear, white, un-vandalized surface of his own desk. Now that it had been mentioned, it did seem rather... inviting...
Once the bell had rung, the following was etched on the 2nd desk to the right in the back row of the American History classroom:
bored. bored. bored. and bored. sup??
Fourth period was well on its way when Tara Mayer took time off from her notes, reminders, and occasional doodles of cats to notice the writing on her desk.
It hadn't been there before, she was sure, but it was there now, messy handwriting or not. Perhaps the desks had been moved, or exchanged with another class's, or... Tara chided itself for her lack of common sense. If something was here now that hadn't been there two days ago, what was the logical explanation? Someone had written it.
Still, it intrigued her much more than it should have. The writer obviously hadn't been kidding, as no non-bored person would waste their time writing the word "bored" four times. And the "sup"... It seemed only as if it had been tacked on, as if the writer had some other ulterior motive...
This epiphany came as readily as the last one: of course, the ulterior motive was to get somebody else to respond. So they would have something to do come next boredom. Tara usually didn't bother with desk-conversations, as they usually involved only hurried curse words and other such nonsense that someone increasingly--Tara glanced back at the message affectionately--bored would write. But this one... how could she resist?
And so, once the bell had rung, under the first message was another:
Um, the sky? ;-)