So guys, you can now read "Frenemies" because I finally posted it, and there should be like, two chapters (I think) on it right now, so you should go check it out because it's cool, and I want it to be a pretty exciting book, when I'm done with it, but yeah, that's that. If you can't find it, you can press my profile picture (that terribly boring bridge that wattpad gave me), and you can look under my works. Soooooooo......I hope you enjoy this chapter (and a huge thank you to all of you that have read this book, and are still reading this book!).

She looks at me and asks, "Where's your lunch?", and then my response was something along the lines of, "I don't know."

She looks at me incredulously and says, "Wait, do you mean someone stole your lunch, or...?" I just laugh and say, "No Amy, I just meant that I don't feel like eating cafeteria food right now, and we can't go off-campus to eat our lunches today, so I'm kind of stuck with no lunch today." She plasters on a determined expression on her face and says, "We'll share." I try to protest, but she has an expression on her face that does not invite an argument. I scowl at her, but I am pretty grateful, I was kind of hungry. She sends a soft smile at me, and we make our way to Mr. Bird's classroom.

When we finally open the creaky door of his classroom, he's in the same position that we left him in, hunched over a stack of papers and a book, most likely Pride and Prejudice. He looks up at us once he hears the door creak open and he sighs and looks patiently over at us, tapping his foot against the hard tiles that covered the floor.

We pull up two chairs to his desk and Amy sets down her lunch of pasta with pesto sauce and sun-dried tomatoes. I love that shit. Amy gets out a paper plate from who-knows-where, and starts to diligently shovel half of her lunch into the paper plate. I quietly tell her to stop when she puts about ¼ of her lunch into the plate, and she gives me an are-you-sure look, but I give her an assertive nod and she puts a plastic fork on it and hands it over to me.

Mr. Bird had been watching our entire exchange with slight interest, but he didn't mention anything. Instead he handed both of us napkins from one of the many drawers of his desk and started to talk. "So would the two of you care to explain why you were late today, since I did let the two of you go without even a tardy in either of your names?"

Amy and I looked at each other, and we started to give some vague details about my birthday party, and by the time we were done, we knew that he knew that we had left some facts out, but he seemed satisfied with our response. He sank back into his chair and started to stroke his completely white stubble.

After about a full minute of this, I cleared my throat and said, "Mr. Bird, is there anything you need us for?" He looked at me and said, "Yes, actually. The both of you are one of the smartest students in my class," I started choking at this point, and it was NOT because of the pasta, "and English is a very hard subject for many people." I interrupted and said, "Sir, how do you know that me and Amy are one of the smartest children in the class if it's only the second day of school?"

He smirked and looked at us and said, "As teachers, we have access to all of your old school records, which includes your grades and attendance. When I looked at your old attendance charts, it looked like you two had never been this late before, and that was why I decided to let you off the hook today." He then added with a stern voice, "However, old attendance records will not prevent me from marking the both of you tardy if this occurs again."

Amy and I said, "Yes sir," at the same time. I looked at Mr. Bird and he nodded. "Getting back to your punishment, so to speak, I will need the both of you to team up with Ethan Brooks, who also happens to do very well in this class, and I will need the three of you to create some sort of tutoring club, or just tutoring services, but the tutoring needs to be set up as if it was another classroom. What I mean by that is that I need the three of you to create some classroom material and teach it to the rest of the students."

We were utterly confused. Mr. Bird just chuckled in his seat. "For being an English teacher, I'm not very good with words, am I?" We nervously chuckled in our seats, and amusement sparkled in the old man's eyes as he looked at us and said, "You two are allowed to laugh around me you know. Believe it or not, teachers are humans and are, by definition, sociable creatures, and from that, you can assume that we like to laugh."

Me and Amy just gave each other a look out of the corner of our eyes and fidgeted in our respected seats; this was turning into one of the most awkward encounters I've had with a teacher.

Mr. Bird seemed to finally feel the tangible tension in the room and suddenly cleared his throat. He said, "Alright, so do the two of you understand what to do? And tell Ethan that he will get extra credit, and breaks from his scholarship if he does participate in this activity, as well as a guaranteed teacher recommendation from me."

Amy's jaw almost completely dropped off her body. "Mr. Bird, I'm afraid that's not fair. Why is it that he gets that much while we get nothing in return?" Mr. Bird looked at the both of us ruefully. "Ms. Moore, do you understand exactly what I have given you in return?" I looked at Amy, and said, "Amy, when he says that he didn't count the tardy, that's pretty big, because being late to any other class other than your first or fifth period class stays on your record, and if you have more than two of those, you could possibly get suspended from school on the account of either disorderly conduct or being a classroom distraction."

Mr. Bird nodded at me in approval, turned his gaze to Amy, and said, "Ms. Guenther, I believe you are already in my debt as is, but if you do well on this project of yours that I have assigned the three of you, you might get a little more than you bargained for." He then turned to me and said, "As for you Ms. Moore, I will take the liberty of deleting your prior detention for Mrs. Buloga as well, if you do this for me."

By this point in time, I was curious to say ask why he was so desperate for this club or tutoring thing to run, so I asked him about it, but all I got in response was an ice-cold glare, and he said, "It's none of your concern, but when you two mull over all the things this opportunity could offer the both of you, I suggest you come to me. I would like to know your answer, as well as Mr. Brook's by tomorrow morning, before school starts."

Me and Amy shot each other a glance, and I said, "Of course. Was there anything else that you would like to discuss with us?" He shook his head wit a slight smile and said, "No, you both can skedaddle out of this place now."

And skedaddle we did.

By the time we were out of his office, the both of us were left completely appalled at the quick turn of events, and we were just walking in silence, right outside of the bustling cafeteria. We were both in our own little bubbles, just thinking about all that had happened today, while Amy broke me out of my reverie with a quiet, but firm statement.

"We should go tell Ethan."

I had no idea who this Ethan kid was to be honest. I knew I had heard the name before, but I couldn't put a face to the name. Since I felt like I was in the mood to go smash someone's dreams or some other shit like that, I decide that I like Amy's decision.

"Sure, why not?"

I had no idea how quick of a mess I had just pulled myself into.

Amy went over to the table that she had sat on yesterday, and I was puzzled. Since when did an Ethan sit on this table? I looked at all of the familiar faces, but then my eyes landed on chocolate boy.

No.

NO, NO, NO, NO, NO.

Please don't let it be what I think it is. I kept on running this mantra through my brain dozens of times, but in the end...

"Ethan? Me and Lenora have to talk to you about something, it's about English."

Chocolate Boy = Ethan. Ethan Brooks, to be exact.

Why me?

I looked over at Amy with my wide eyes, but since some people find joy in my pain (Amy being one of them), she burst out laughing with me probably looking like a constipated mushroom behind her. I mean, seriously, what else do I look like these days?

She kept on laughing while I just grumbled and tapped my foot, eager to get this over with. When she finally sobered up, I gave her my death glare, which instead of intimidating her, it instead brought forth more peals of laughter. At this point I just felt like leaving. Everyone was looking at me amusedly, subtly asking me for answers to Amy's laughter, but I didn't feel like providing answers today, especially when the answers included my lack of knowledge of the name of he-who-must-not-be-named.

He had a nice name.

But I think I like Chocolate Boy better.

I left Amy and her wonderful laughter behind in search of someone, I'm not sure who I was looking for, maybe Sophia, or maybe even Adrian, but the person that I ended up running into was Queen Bitch herself.

Picture: Melanie Vadcat (Queen Bitch)

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