I bow my head in a servile manner, "Yes, I would absolutely love, to go get you your water bottle. Which you left in your locker." I stand up, and begin the strenuous journey towards Khloe's locker. As soon as I am in the deserted hallways, a boisterous beeping causes me to pull my phone from my pocket, as if raising a sword from its scabboth.

A comment on Instagram.

"Ew."

How many of those can a girl get daily? I've stopped counting.

Frustration and distraction flood my mind. Why did I even leave the Mystery Meat Cafe?

"You got it?" Khloe turns in her seat.

"Dammit!" I suddenly remember the water bottle. "Not going back there," I assure her. "The corridors are creepy when no one is in them." I give a fake shudder to emphasize.

"Ugh," she scoots over on the cafeteria bench, allowing me a small gap of space to sit in. I squeeze between Khloe and Joshua, subtly assuming my third wheel position.

"Hey isn't today a month?" I raise an eyebrow at Joshua.

"Don't look at me," he shrugs, shame occupying the emotion of the droplet of sweat that forms on his forehead.

"Babe," Khloe groans. "Today is our one month anniversary," she puts her hand over her face, disappointment claiming her smile for the worse.

"I knew that..." his voice trails off. I look at him, repelled. I nudge him in the stomach, hard. He winces. I hope he knew that was just a warning nudge. "I was just..." he pauses, trying to read my lips. "Pretending not to know..." he squints closely at my mouth. "So I could surprise you with a gift..." he furrows his eyebrows, confusion resonating in his eyes.

"You were?" Khloe lifts her head from her hands, her blonde hair falling to its normal position, behind her ears.

"Yeah," he responds, more surely.

"Aww, that's so sweet, when do I get it?" her voice perks up, almost instantaneously.

Joshua looks to me for confirmation, "End of the day,"

"Oh okay," she smiles, and takes a spoonful of the grotesque, lumpy pile on her tray. Joshua meets my eyes, a confused look knitting his brows together. I nod at him, giving a thumbs up. Now, we have two and a half hours to find a present for Khloe.

An obstreperous ringing, signals the end of our lunch period. I didn't even get the chance to eat. My stomach is howling for food. I casually, grab the spoon from Khloe's hand, and shove the mysterious lumps into my mouth. The taste on my tongue is indescribable. The closest I could come to explaining it would be: worse than vile.

Though the scandalous taste, I continue to cram spoonful after spoonful into my mouth. I deserve this for forgetting to eat breakfast.

"Hey, what's the big idea?" Khloe knocks the spoon from my mouth, to the floor. And of course, the aftermath of her nudge, mystery chunks come dripping out my mouth to the table.

"Khloe!" I groan, both embarrassment and anger heating my cheeks to a medium-scarlet.

"Oh gosh," she puts her hand to her mouth, trying to conceal her giggles.

"Sorry for this," Joshua grins at me, as I begin to wipe the pulp-like mixture from my chin.

"For what?" I ask, looking up from my current task at hand. The camera of his iPhone flashes, and the sound of a text going through echoes in my mind. "Okay..." I pause. "So how many people did you send that to?" I hesitate to ask the question, fearing the answer.

"One..." he winces.

"Oh, that's alri--"

"Hundred."

"Oh that's wonderful." I quickly wipe the rest of the mess from my face, and rise to leave the Mystery Meat Cafe. Another vehement dinging grabs my attention, and I freeze, halfway to the exit. This time it isn't the bell, it's the simultaneous ring of texts being received.

Every single head in the cafeteria looks at me. There is a moment of silence, where the only sound is eyelids blinking, and a few clinks of a metallic kitchenware from behind the lunch counter. I stare back at them, the color returning to my cheeks rapidly. A drop of nervous sweat falls from my forehead.

"Hey! It went through, Adriann!" Joshua gives me a thumbs up, pointing to his phone.

The stiff silence, suddenly turns to a parade of laughter and index fingers pointing at me. Even the lunch lady, raises her phone, chuckling at the picture.

I flee the cafeteria, an act of valiance. My floundering legs, give way, as they always do when the worst time comes, and I fall on the polished, hard tile.

Of course. My second nature sarcasm is noticing it's limelight opportunity.

"Adriann, what are we going to get Khloe?" Joshua offers a hand. A distant pitter-patter in the distance is a warning of the stampede coming.

"Josh!" I scream. "Run!" He yanks me off the floor to my feet, and together we dash for the main entrance. I look over my shoulder, and just as I do, the doors burst open. A league of ravenous students erupt through the hall, filling the area, and dashing after us. "Go!" I caution. I quickly gain speed, adrenaline pumping through my veins. It is amazing what one can do in a life or death situation.

Paper airplanes fly after us, essays catch air from the wind of our running, and pencils are thrown at the ceiling.

"Hurry! We're almost there." I encourage him, as we take a right. We've lost a few bundles of them, but the hurd still continues onwards, charging straight at us.

"I think we lost them," Josh looks over his right shoulder, and pauses to catch his breath. I double over, resting my hands on my knees, hoping to regain my breath.

"That was really close," I meet his gaze.

"Yeah no duh," he responds, letting out a quick chuckle.

"So after English we'll find something for Khloe?" he begins walking in the direction of his locker, now that the noise has died down.

"I'm protesting that class," I respond, yawning.

"You can't protest a class," he contradicts me, folding his arms.

"I'm special," I rejoin, blandly.

"Where are you going then?" he raises an eyebrow, as I hook my hands together behind my back, innocently.

"The blacktop," I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Why?" I can feel his understanding of the conversation, moving steadily downwards.

"Organizing a rally," I smile, standing on my tiptoes for a moment.

"A rally?" he looks at me.

"R.A.L.L.Y." I pause, "The dictionary defines rally as: a mass meeting of people to show support for fixing something unjust." I explain.

"I know what a rally is," he rolls his eyes in frustration.

"Good definition though," I comment.

"What are you having a rally for...during school?"

"Isn't obvious? I said something unjust." I shake my head.

"Do go on," he feigns interest.

"Homework," I respond.

"You've organized a rally for no homework?" he stops at his locker, and begins to enter the combination.

"Absolutely." I acknowledge.

"You're a very interesting girl, Adriann." he grits his teeth, trying not to laugh.

"I know," I smile. "I'm just too amazing."

"Okay." he doesn't correct me, but he most definitely does not agree.

"So are you coming?" I inquire.

"I can't miss English." he whines.

"Live a little," I lean on the lockers.

"Fine, I'll come." he gives in.

"Good, good. I'm glad you've learned there's no fighting with me." A smirk curls my lips upward. "Now come on, the bell is about to ring," I tug him back towards the front door.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

    "Hey," I wave a hand in front of Luke's face. For some reason I am getting more comfortable around him. I don't think he is getting very cozy near me, though.

    "Ugh." he rolls his eyes. "What do you want?"

    "Jesus, calm yourself." I lightly punch his bicep.

    "Okay, okay." he gives in, annoyed.

    "Are you coming to my rally?" I ask, matching his pace.

    "What rally?" he raises an eyebrow, unsurely.

    "How has noone heard?! I've put up posters everywhere!" I fold my arms.

    "Haven't spotted any," he shrugs.

    "Well are you?" I insist, pointing my index finger towards a poster above the water fountain.

    "Oh, there it is." he smirks, approaching the poster, veering to the left. He grabs it from the wall with his right hand. "This is your idea of advertisement?" he asks, teasingly. The poster shows a stick figure that looks mad, shouting "no homework."

    "So what? I tried really hard on those!" my cheeks boil.

    "Haha." he mocks.

    "Stop avoiding the question, are you coming or not?" I urge, slowly growing impatient.

    "What's going to happen to me if I don't?" he frowns.

    I look both ways, and lean in to whisper, "Someone might die,"

    "Alright! I'm in!" he gives a thumbs up, and a scared smile.

    "I was kidding, you idiot." I roll my eyes at his back, as he begins his way ahead of me in the hallway.

    "Sure you were, Jack the Ripper." I hear his laugh, and then once again he disappears around a corner. Never looking back to meet my eyes.

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    "Ugh I did not sign up for this," Khloe whimpers.

    "Quit your complaining," I battle.

    "I swear," she grumbles under her breath.

    "I told you, go up to the stage and say some good stuff about me!" such a simple task, for such a smart girl, you'd think she'd understand it quicker.

    "Hey," she smiles nervously at the fifty or so students standing in the pouring rain.

    "Hi," the crowd chants back in unison. One kid walks back up the steps to the school, waving over his shoulder.

    "You're losing them," I whisper through a gritted-tooth-smile.

    "Good afternoon to all of you," she bites her lips. Silence. "I said good afternoon." she glares down. A fearful response.

    "Good...good afternoon,"

    "That's better," Khloe smiles, pretending her last comment was never made. "And now," she introduces, "The shockingly still single, Adriann Rowe." I frown at her comment, but approach the podium despite my embarrassment.

    "Hola, fellow homework-haters." I wave enthusiastically. A few scattered fists pump into the air. "Today, I am here to speak to you about an extremely important problem." I pause, for that ever so cliche dramatic effect, "Homework." I spit the word out, like a bad taste in my mouth.

    "Ew!" my audience chants.

    "I know," I respond, raising my hands in the settle down motion. "It's hard to talk about such a nauseating idea," I wipe a tear from my eye. "But sometimes, we have to tough things out." murmurs of approval spread over the crowd. "Homework is a disgusting, evil thing. It was created by schools to terrorize and torment the students of their halls. It is known as a demonic way of getting a laugh. Teachers do this to us to have fun. Teachers do this to us, this horrible thing. They give us homework. But no longer. Because we will be gathering petition signatures. 2! 4! 6! 8! We will not participate!" I point to Khloe, giving her the signal. She tugs, hard on the rope of the flagpole, literally spreading the word. The flag reads "homework" with a large red 'x' through it.

    Okay, so maybe I went a little over the top with this issue...but I've been extremely passionate about the whole thing since I began receiving the stuff in first grade.

    "This is so stupid," Luke Solton mutters from the side of the stage.

    "Shut up and listen, Luke." I roll my eyes.

    I wish I could talk to him with blushing cheeks, a wide smile, and a cute glint in my eyes, but that's not who I am. I still have to be absolutely insane, weird, annoying, and salty. I don't mean it when I'm rude...most of the time. But Luke doesn't know me well, can he tell that I'm really trying to be friendly? Because if I wasn't trying to be friendly, he would have been socked in the face by now.

    "No more homework, no more essays, no more dreading all the Mondays! No more homework, no more essays, no more dreading all the Mondays!" I begin with my creative chant. The passion is contagious, and pretty soon everyone is yelling words of hate towards homework. I know that I'm not the only one who feels so strongly about the subject.

    "What's going on out here?" Principal Jackson demands. The same worried look spreads through the audience of students. His voice would make milk curdle. His presence alone, could make someone cover their eyes in terror.  But I stand my ground. He stopped being able to get to me after the first week of school. I have conquered my fears.

    "Just some school spirit," I fold my arms, courageously.

"Not quite what it looks like," he points to several signs being held by my classmates, and the giant waving flag.

"A sort of spirit," I clench my teeth, trying to figure out a way to explain this one.

"It's unacceptable." Principal Jackson glares straight at me, a look of pure villainy in his eyes.

"I had no idea, Jacky." I respond, putting my hands in the air, surrendering.

"Principal. Jackson." he corrects me.

"I like Jacky better, sir." I raise an eyebrow.

"Unfortunately you don't get to decide how you address me." he smirks a little.

"Aww," I frown.

"You," he points at me. "Ms. Rowe, detention. The rest of you, scatter." With that, Principal Jacky turns on his heel, and vanishes through the double door. If he had a mic, he would've dropped it to the ground. Might've had a little more effect to his punishment, but no matter. I like detention. All the misfits alike go there.

I make my way back up the steps in defeat, dropping my dripping wet sign into a puddle on my way. The drawings on the sign begin to melt, failure dragging it deeper into the mud. I'll start a petition soon. Homework is an instrument of pain, and I will not rest until it is abolished.