"Uh, hey, bro?" Bill snapped his fingers. "Earth to Jonathan!"

Jonathan blinked in alarm, his head swinging from left to right as he looked around the busy school library. His pen clattered to the black surface of the study desk, narrowly missing his notebook.

"I asked you a question, dude," Bill laughed.

"Sorry, sorry," Jonathan facepalmed. "I completely zoned out."

"No kidding," Bill replied. "So as I was saying, when did Mr. Grayson say the PowerPoint was due?"

"Oh, right, that. Next Friday. And believe me, I'm ready."

Jonathan Hendrix, the scrawny bookworm with dark brown hair, hazel brown eyes and black glasses. And then Bill Saunders, the dark-skinned video game nerd with a knack for vocabulary. Together, these two studious friends worked on their greatest assignements in the library of Drenburg High School every Wednesday during fifth period. And today was an especially important occasion.

"I'm sure you are ready," Bill chuckled. "Who are you presenting on again?"

"The Mongols," Jonathan grinned. "The empire from the east whose horsemen would ride on multiple horses to evade enemy fire. You?"

"The Zulus," Bill smiled back. "They gave even the British Empire a run for their money before they succumbed."

"Yeah, I'm sure you weren't biased in your decision at all," Jonathan said, stifling a laugh.

Bill rolled his eyes in mock irritation. "Typical white man. So stereotypical and ignorant."

"What, you want me to give you fried chicken as an apology? Oh wait."

The two friends exchanged faux aggressive stares before breaking out into laughter.

"Okay for real though, I'm so glad our school has an AP Military History class," Jonathan said, shifting the conversation back.

"Me too," Bill agreed. "The one class I don't fall asleep in because it's actually interesting."

"Hey gents," a friendly voice greeted from the right. "How are we holding up over here?"

The two friends turned to see Darius Billings, their school's Track-And-Field captain, heading their way, wearing a 'Drenburg Rhinos' jersey and a big smile on his face.

"Pretty good, yourself?" Jonathan said, fist-bumping the track-and-field captain.

"All cool on my end," Darius replied. "Just getting ready to go down to the football field in a bit. We have a track meet this Friday."

"Good luck to all of you," Bill said. "I heard you guys crushed it at last week's meet!"

"Thanks Bill," Darius smiled back. "It definitely was a time to remember."

"Hey Darius," a female voice called out from the library entrance.

All three heads turned to see Susan Caruthers, a short, blue-eyed junior with blonde-braids and black, thick-rimmed glasses. As always, she had a copy of Shakespeare's Othello tucked under her right arm and carried her bright blue backpack across her left shoulder.

"We need to get going or you'll be late for practice ya goofball," she beamed, showing her set of green braces.

"Coming my dear," Darius winked back at her. He gave Jonathan and Bill a firm fist bump. "I have to run, but I'll catch you guys later alright?"

"Sure thing, Darius," Jonathan said. "Have a good practice."

As the hulking Track and Field captain met with his girlfriend by the library door, he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before they exited together. A few minutes later, the bell rang for fifth period to end, and Jonathan and Bill packed up their study materials.

"Our free period always goes by too fast," Jonathan complained.

"Yeah, well, at least we as sophomores were even able to get a free period," Bill said as he and Jonathan made their way through the bustling crowd of students.

"It was nice to see Darius for a while," Jonathan commented, shifting the subject. "I've actually heard rumors that all the girls are jealous of Susan."

"Why is that?" Bill asked.

"Are you kidding? He's a strong fearless athlete! I saw so many people congratulating Susan after Darius asked her to prom!"

"Never imagined you'd be one to care about the insufferable romantic drama that plagues these halls."

"Come on Bill, can you blame me? I've been friendzoned three times–,"

Bill cut him off with a wave of his hand as the two of them rounded a corner to their classroom. "We've been through this. There's no such thing as the friend-zone if you don't mind having a girl as a friend."

"And there's no such thing as a good chance at asking Helen on a date if I can't even run a four-hundred-meter dash without fainting," Jonathan sighed as the two of them entered their classroom.

"Why don't you ask her now? She's already sitting behind you," Bill shrugged.

Jonathan nearly jumped out of his skin as he whirled around to face his doom, only to find that his crush was not there and that Bill had fooled him. He glared at his friend.

Bill laughed and laughed as he took his seat two rows behind Jonathan. "If funny looks could make someone rich, you'd be a millionaire right now."

"Ha ha, very funny, Bill Nye the Science Guy," Jonathan growled.

....................................

In the hallways of Drenburg High School, the grumpy custodian nonchalantly mopped up what must've been the fifth puddle of spilled soda he'd encountered. His day was always uneventful, as usual.

In the english classroom, however, Jonathan Hendrix's day was anything but uneventful. He fought to keep his hands from shaking, and did everything he could to not glance to his right, lest the one sitting next to him accuse him of being creepy. It was no ordinary person sitting next to him, after all.

It was Helen Grant, a tall, cheerful sophomore girl with long, jet black hair that reached past her waist and elegant green eyes. And, though she did not know it–at least Jonathan hoped she didn't know–the subject of Jonathan's admiration since freshman year.

Jonathan continued to fidget as he straddled the line between allowing some signs of his nervousness to slip through and concentrating on the slideshow. His black pen jotted down the notes in sloppy but legible cursive, and Jonathan resisted the urge to scream in frustration. The teacher, a middle-aged brunette with a red hat and lots of bracelets on her arms, changed the slide at long last, and Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey, Jonathan?"

Jonathan turned in the direction of the voice, only to realize he'd now made the mistake of looking in Helen's eyes, and he felt his body go tense.

"Oh, um, yeah?" he said, a blink betraying his surprise.

"Can I see your notes for the previous slide?" Helen whispered. "I don't think I got everything."

"Um, yes, yes! Here!" Jonathan raised his voice, causing every single head in the class to look in his direction. The teacher paused her lecture, unamused by the interruption.

"Is something the matter, Jonathan?" she said with a cutting edge in her voice.

"N-no ma'am," Jonathan stammered.

"Ah, well, good to know," the teacher answered. "I almost thought aliens were taking over the place."

The class snickered as Jonathan's face turned redder than an apple. The teacher resumed her lecture, and Jonathan gripped his hair in frustration.

"Your sweat soaked the entire page," Helen whispered. "I can't read anything."

Jonathan's eyes went wide in horror as he glanced down at his notebook, only to see the page Helen was looking at was completely dry.

"How was the meeting with that ghost?" she asked in a playful tone.

"Huh?" Jonathan said.

"Get it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh, um, right, that," Jonathan shook his head, swallowing the lump of embarrassment forming in his throat.

Behind him, Jonathan could hear Bill stifling a tsunami of laughter, and knew that social death awaited him when the day was done. After all, what else were friends for but to roast each other over their cringe-worthy moments?