Fast Times at Westfield High

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Penelope Sky, Nov 22, 2014.

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  1. Just another run of the mill high school story roleplay because I'm bored and have an incredibly soft spot for living the high school dream AND enhancing my writing skills at the same time =3 Character sheets aren't necessary (I'm not making one), but if you want to, by all means, go for it. The only common theme I want you all to adhere to besides high school stuff in general is that this should take place around Christmas time, and be sort of holiday/winter themed. Also, watch your language, please, although I won't freak if you drop a few bombs now and again. Try and limit the sexual themes to a bare minimum, but do what you think is realistic to your character. And have fun, too, of course. Duh XD =3

    Robin White, a self proclaimed class clown with a generally arrogant attitude, was once again the first to class. Lunch was a period away, and of course, it just had to be English. Not science, his favorite. Not math. Not history. Nothing else. English class. No breakfast this morning and a day full of chattering idiots and an unshakable sense of plain and utter boredom, and he had to sit through English on an empty, irritated stomach. Not to mention how ignorant the teacher was. A short, chubby blonde woman with a bias for any and all females in the class, and a pension for singling him out.

    First in class. He was lucky enough to have a locker near the room. Not lucky to be neighbors with some of the most annoying girls in school. Either have a huge mutual crush on him or hate his guts. Robin figured it to be the latter, as most people rolled their eyes whenever he walked away. He was one of those people you either really loved, or really hated. And he hadn't seen much of the former since seventh and eighth grade.

    There was a time when the kids started to pour in simultaneously, and that time was that very moment. Robin chose to sit in the back, as he always did. He was likely one of the smartest in his class, although he didn't have much of an interest in literature, so he saw it better to save face with his jock friends and act maybe slightly less disinterested than he already was, if it was even possible.

    There was snow outside, falling in flurries, which Robin had just noticed with a twitch of a smile, from the window directly to his left. Decembers in his city were cold. So were Novembers. The first snowfall was on the 28th, and they already used their first snow day on the fourth of December, which he spent with a friend who lives close by. Robin didn't mind the snow if he could miss school, but he preferred the heat to the cold. Preferred the humdrum of ordinary life over the confusion of Christmastime. Preferred staying home and watching paint dry than listening to Mrs. Carter. (Preferred reinventing the wheel to run himself over to that painful death sentence, to be exact.)

    But he figured he could suffer through. Wasn't the first day like this, and wouldn't be the last, but at least there was only a week left before winter break. And only a period until lunch. If he could even survive.
     
  2. Sarah Hart, a brunette with a gorgeous look, Sapphire green eyes and a black new York style jacket over her green sweater and jeans. She usually blended in with the crowd but she was sort of wierd, even if she was just a pretty face.
    "Okay" the woman sighed taking out her schedule for her new school that she will be staying in.
    As the tapping sounds of her shoes echoed through the halls she studied the paper and groaned. "Why in the world did it have to be English" she muttered under her breath.
    She whispered the room number over and over again, occasionally glancing at the paper for reassurance. She walked from number to number getting closer, as she was getting closer however her stomach knotted up. Normal fears of being in a new school for the first time.
    The door opened to see a short, chubby blonde woman staring at her.
    "Hi, umm here's my schedule...I'm new here," she said trying not to look at the class because she had a massive stage fright.
    With a deep breath she handed the teacher her schedule, it was the right class she was sure of it, however she needed to show the teacher the piece of paper.
     
  3. Mrs. Carter was a generally nice teacher. She usually had a soft spot for girls, or just those interested in English in general, so her attitude toward the new student was relatively friendly, although most saw through what they believed to be such a vibrant facade. The teacher, with a rather egg shape and almost pig like face, took the schedule in her hand, reading over it quickly to verify that she was in the right spot. Mrs. Carter had obviously dealt with new students before, so she knew that the girl, with the name of Sarah Hart, would appear on the attendance records in the computer, and obviously belonged in this class - although, with her seven years plus of teaching, Mrs. Carter could definitely tell the teen wasn't a fan of English class.

    Smiling, she glanced the girl up and down, observing her outfit with a grin (Mrs. Carter was one of those teachers who saw school as not only a place for education, but as a runway as well), and said, "Nice sweater." She smiled brightly, her face scrunching with an almost painful looking beam. "Welcome to Westfield. You may take a seat wherever you'd like." She gestured toward the front, hoping to subliminally guide her there, as Mrs. Carter never cared much for kids who preferred the back, although the shy attitude of the young girl would probably direct her otherwise. She returned the student her schedule, carefully placing it back in her hands. "You're going to love it here."

    Robin wasn't much for talking to people he didn't know. He was a generally outgoing guy, but it was difficult for him to bridge the gap with those he'd never contacted, so he found the premise of talking to the girl to be very awkward, although she seemed approachable enough if he really wanted to. Not to mention hot. At least he'd have something to look at during class besides the snow, or his hands, or Mrs. Carter's chubby little features and mismatching outfit. Absentmindedly, he leaned back in his seat, his feet propped comfortably on the book rack of the desk in front of him as he tapped rhythmically with his pencils on the top of his notebook, sighing somewhat wistfully.
     
  4. "Thank you" the young nervous student smiled politely and sat down in the middle of the class by the window. The young girls always loved the outside and felt closer to it when she was near windows. Unfortunately three cheerleaders were sitting in front of her whispering away about her, it was obvious when the girls were giving her looks.
    As the teacher kept talking the girls continued glancing at her and she was getting really tired of it. After all, she wasn't put on this Earth for their amusement, but from the looks of it they couldn't tell because the world revolved around them.
    One glanced back at her again but Sarah made a gross and silly face at her making her gasp in disgust before Sarah chuckled and continued writing down notes. The girls stopped looking and started whispering about how rude the new girl was.
    After the teacher was done with her lecture, Sarah scanned the room slowly picking someone who had what she was looking for...character. She then stopped when she saw Robin and studied him before she took out a piece of paper and started drawing him, making sure that the teacher didnt catch her. She was pretty good at hiding it, considering the fact that she's been to 5 other schools before.
    She wasn't just good at drawing, she was amazing, like Da Vinchi. She loved drawing people that really captures her eye. People that could really tell a story with their life and it seemed to her that Robin could in fact tell a story. The more she detailed him, the more she realized how handsome he was, but nonetheless she was lost in her creativeness, but not too lost for she had to watch out for the English teacher.
     
  5. Robin was bored.

    No, that was an understatement.

    He thought today would at least be a little more intriguing, since they were supposed to read something a a bit more interesting. But Mrs. Carter, who practices in spontaneity more than actual teaching, changed plans last minute, and now they were reading the history of boredom itself. So boring, in fact, that Robin didn't even know who wrote it, let alone what it was called. Just the fact that the main character was an idiot, and the story tried to teach some philosophical lesson he himself learned when he was in eighth grade. Robin was, despite his appearance, an unstable combination of highly developed, and emotionally immature - most stories hardly had an impact after middle school, let alone ones as tedious as this.

    He was still leaned back, tapping on the surface of his desk with his pens in a well orchestrated beat, something he'd been practicing for quite awhile with all the spare time he had in the monotonous humdrum of everyday school life. It sounded a little like an Eminem song, something he was generally trying to go for, but Robin was no musician, and far too unique to replicate anything efficiently.

    He noticed the new girl was staring at him. Not continuously. Just occasionally. She was writing something, or maybe sketching, and it looked like she was doing an awfully good job of hiding it from where the teacher was standing, but she was looking at him every moment or so. He figured it was because he was tapping, or the lazy way he was sagging back. Or maybe it was because of his outfit. He wore shorts today. Bright teal. Most girls thought guys who wore shorts in the winter were stupid. And Robin agreed, but it wasn't his fault teal was his favorite color, and all of his other stuff was either in the wash or at his mom's house.

    He wasn't sure if it was right to return her gaze for longer than a second. He was a little uncomfortable with it, truth be told, but she seemed like a pretty down to earth girl, with the way she scared those cheerleaders away, and the way she seemed to hate Carter's English as much as he did. He didn't much like those girls - they were the ones who surrounded his locker - and even if he was well capable of verbally wrecking them completely on his own, he thought the way she handled it was pretty cool, too.

    He waited for her to meet his eyes yet again. It took a second or two, but he was finally able to lock his green-blue gaze onto her emerald one, and with one, lazy gesture, he lifted his hand into a small, subtle sort of wave, smiling slightly in what appeared to be more of a twisted smirk than anything showing real hospitality. Although, lowering his hand, he supposed it would have to do.
     
  6. She was finally done. With a relieved sigh she was finally done, all except the eyes of course. The guy she decided to draw wasn't looking at her which was kind of expected considering the fact that he was busy being bored and spacing out.
    He was probably weirded out by her with the occasional glances but she couldn't care less, he was very much handsome but she was too focused on her art piece to care. She took one more glance at the boy who locked eyes with her.
    She saw him waving at her and she waved back with a small smile.
    She then turned around and finished his eyes. She smiled looking at the drawing of him before putting it neatly in her binder.
     
  7. Robin's smile grew when the girl smiled back. She was really pretty, actually. Although, it was hard for Robin to admit those things out loud. It was very easy, however, for him to think it - stifling it was the hard part. He looked down to his shoes, a pair of expensive looking teal sneakers, and tried to pretend he was smiling at those, since they happened to be his favorite shoes, but then realized he was being sort of dumb, and rubbed his mouth in a nonchalant sort of way, hoping no one would notice his grin, one he imagined to be very dorky, although much improved since he got his braces taken off last year.

    He continued the tapping. Maybe a little louder than he wanted, although it was hard for him to care what anybody thought about it. He'd been tapping since seventh grade, and only half his teachers would tell him to stop, and those were the ones he'd love to annoy. Especially ones who disliked him and all the rest of the male population, like feminist Mrs. Carter.

    But, today, he wasn't trying to get on her nerves. Mostly, he wanted to appear invisible, especially during a boring period like this, so she wouldn't call on him, or ask him to share his thoughts on the literature, as if he really had any that weren't negative, or about the first couple pages only. The loudness of his tapping was merely inadvertent, and since most of his seatmates never cared about the way he created his "beats", nobody was hardly around to tell him to knock it off before Mrs. Carter appeared by his desk, glancing down judgmentally below her.

    "Robin," she said, her blue eyes wide and her thin lips pursed. "What emotion is the narrator trying to convey on page 16?"

    He sighed, dropping his pencils on the corner of his desk and sitting up attentively, his posture more straight and his feet off the back of the bookrack in front of him. "The emotion?" he asked, pulling open his book to page 24 and flipping around until he reached 16. He scanned the page quickly, rubbing his left cheek slightly to dissipate the redness, and said, "Um...he's trying to convey the emotion of..." He couldn't find the right words, and the story was yet to sink in. All he could do was smirk. "Of not knowing the answer. Pass."

    The teacher sighed, crossing her thick, slightly tanned arms over her chest and shaking her head. She gave one of those signature looks of disappointment that Robin had become used to receiving, although maybe not on such a regular occasion because of his generally high grades and intelligently presented assignments, and then began to look around the room, searching for someone else - someone less lackadaisical - to call on.

    "Sarah?" she asked, returning to the front of the room and giving the girl an expectant glance. She wasn't sure if she was paying much attention or not, although she figured this would be a good test to see if she was the capable student Mrs. Carter was hoping for this year. "What emotion was he trying to convey?"
     
  8. Sarah was paying attention, she could and loved to easily multi-task.
    "The emotion of happiness" she said knowing she was right, looking at Robin the entire time.
    She looked down and smiled before turning away slowly. She already had her notes out before the teacher walked over.
     
  9. The teacher smiled in satisfaction, nodding at the answer the new girl presented. "Excellent," she said with a grin. Not many students this year were that interested in literature, so Mrs. Carter saw it as, oddly enough, a small victory, for not only Sarah, but herself as well, that at least a few students remained attentive, even if the girl didn't initially seem as if she was engaged in the lesson at all. She herself was conveying the emotion of happiness when she saw the smile on the girl's pretty face, and interpreted such an action as excitement for the class, whether such an assumption was right or wrong, she did not know.

    The teacher turned to the other side of the room and asked, refreshed by Sarah's previous answer, "What kind of language did the narrator use to display such an emotion?" She pointed to a short, skinny red headed girl renowned for her intelligence at the front. "Do you know?"

    Robin was catching up on his reading at the moment, although significantly absentmindedly. He didn't care much for the main character, nor the revelations he was making on page 16, and would much rather focus his attention back on the new girl, who had the prettiest smile plastered across her face, one of pride that reminded him of his best friend back in middle school. He did have to admit, though, he was slightly embarrassed that he couldn't give an answer, but he supposed it was own fault, seeing as how he was intentionally not paying attention on purpose, even if the snickers of his classmates rankled him slightly, despite the comedic undertones of the "answer" he did give. He hated not looking good. Physically, intellectually, cleverly, and beyond.

    Two seats in front of him sat a girl right next to Sarah, one of short height and pale, freckled skin, with long,wavy brunette hair and striking green blue eyes. Her name was Peggy, a girl from the same middle and elementary school as Robin, and Westfield's resident know it all slash kiss up slash unofficial welcoming committee. Not many liked her, although she assumed she was well appreciated, and her tendency to brag and say exactly what the teachers wanted to hear irritated her classmates although most teachers were unable to see through her fake attitude.

    She stared at Sarah until the girl met her gaze, and smiled in a bright, almost painful sort of grin that looked to be brain damage inducing it was so tight. She waved, unlike Robin's lazy hand wave, rather emphatically and whispered. "Hi! I'm Peggy. Where did you move from?" She had to admit, she loved the rebellious feeling she got from talking in class.
     
  10. "New Orleans" Sarah answered a little creeped out by the girl but tried not showing it. "My family's from France originally..." She said politely as the teacher continued.
    "So who's the guy in the back?" She asked smiling and trying not to look back, she didn't want him thinking she was creepy.
     
  11. Peggy thought that was beyond cool, being from France. She herself had done a lot of traveling in her life, from California to Alaska to Florida and back, but she'd never been to France before, and only barely scratched the surface of Europe in her elementary years with her family's trip to London. The Winterbottoms, with their pretentious sounding last name and elitist attitudes to match, were known as being incredibly rich, with a beautiful house in the best part of the neighborhood, and access to all of the best vacation spots. Traveling was one of Peggy's many trademarks, with all the bragging she did about it.

    She was going to ask about Sarah's life in France, and who in her family had such a prestigious heritage, but she was soon cut off by the new girl's follow up question, which came as somewhat of a shock to her, since Sarah seemed to be engulfed with someone else besides her, although this experience was not a rarity for poor, unappreciated Peggy. She knew, of course, that Sarah was referring to Robin White, a boy she had a crush on in middle school but only thought of as a friend nowadays, but she preferred playing dumb and asking who she was talking about anyway, so maybe she could understand why the girl was so interested in someone she'd never even spoken to (because most people knew, especially Peggy, that Robin White was not the usual kind of guy someone wanted to be friends with).

    "Which one?" she asked, smiling, her friendly attitude remaining consistent despite her well concealed curiosity. She gestured toward the back. "There are lots of guys in the back," she said with a chuckle, expecting the same in response.
     
  12. "The guy with the teal sneakers" she pointed out, which Robin only had.
    Sarah quickly looked at the clock as Peggy answered, it was only 10 minutes until the class was over and she breathed a sigh of relief at the thought. This class felt so...constricted, then again she wasn't really much of an indoor girl.
    She then briefly looked at her schedule, according to it she had lunch afterwards. Who in the world was she going to sit with?
    Sheesh, no wonder the guy in the back didn't even bother learning in this class, the teacher was kind of boring.
    In truth she wanted to say hi to the guy but she wasn't much of a talker, not with new people at least. She secretly wished to be at home right now raising chickens with her mom.
     
  13. Robin White flipped through the literature, now trying his best to keep up with the class despite his lack of interest, seeing that there was only around ten minutes left, and he didn't have anything better to do besides tapping, and even that was getting sort of old. He yearned for lunch, where he'd sit with his best friends, Marshall and Zander, who luckily had the same lunch period as him, surprisingly enough. Since middle school, the trio never had any classes together because of Robin's academic advancement and their lack there of, so he considered himself lucky to sit with them at lunch in high school, where it was easier for them to be separated than together. Sometimes, he'd sit with his jock friends if they were available, but he'd rather spend time with two people who knew and appreciated him anyway, rather than those who could care less about who he really was.

    Peggy Winterbottom, however, liked to sit with some of the more irritating girls in her lunch period, most of which who were involved in school plays, show choir, and other forms of entertainment Peggy found enjoyable. She never liked referring to herself as a nerd or dork, but she was definitely nothing less than a drama geek, and, besides bragging about her rather lucrative lifestyle, there was nothing Peggy loved more than the theater, and lacrosse.

    She already knew, of course, that Sarah was talking about Robin, so she had an answer ready at her disposal, glancing at the back of the class once to observe Robin's bright teal sneakers, ones that were a lot bigger and a lot cooler than the ones he'd wear in middle school, where he was more gangly and less cute to the general population. Not to mention short. Peggy was one of the shortest people in the class, but even so, she was surprised at how much Robin grew since seventh and eighth grade. And to think only one girl in her entire eighth grade thought he was handsome. Regrets.

    She gestured to Robin, although not very conspicuously, so it looked more like she was pointing to the window, rather than anyone specific. She leaned closer to Sarah, whispering quieter than she was before in fear of being heard, and said, "That's Robin White. We went to middle school together." She grimaced. "You don't want to talk to him."
     
  14. "Why not he seems nice" she said "I mean...I've delt with tough rude guys before and he dosent look that bad..." She said glancing back at him and gave him another wave, smiling before turning to Peggy "in fact, he seems kind of nice."
    She decided to not show anyone the drawing she did of the boy. It wasn't really polite in her opinion that she should shove her drawings in anyone's face anyway.
    The bell rang and Sarah packed her things right away. She was so hungry she contemplated eating her own pencil.
    During lunch after she had gotten her tray of food she saw that the tables had their own cliques. "I suppose there's no farmgirl table" she mumbled sarcastically before sitting in a table by herself. She stared eating and listened to conversations as a pathetic means to entertain herself.
     
  15. Robin's table was two away from Sarah's in a corner by the window, inhabited only by three, including himself. He stayed in the middle as his best friends, Marshall and Zander, surrounded him, a table of oddball guys who appeared to fit in vastly different places than they truly were.

    Zander, with his black hair and affinity for darker style clothes, seemed to be the more quiet, stereotypically "emo" type, as Marshall, with his signature pink hoodie and bleach blonde hair, was far more loud, a boy known for being unbearably shy in middle school, although bold and brash now. He usually sat with his girlfriend Paige on Mondays, but she was absent today, and hated sitting anywhere near Robin - opinionated and somewhat neurotic, she had an almost endless hatred for her boyfriend's best friend.

    Robin, however, appeared to be the signature athlete. Tall, blonde, fit, with bright teal sneakers and matching basketball shorts, he played for the school's baseball team, and had all kinds of middle school buddies who played football, like Brian, the fun and friendly quarterback, (Robin was insanely jealous), and Cliff, a wide receiver who was also pretty good at baseball, as well. He wasn't really like them, though. Never been a part of that inner circle. So he preferred to stick with Marshall and Zander, a couple kids known as losers back in eighth grade.

    Despite his affinity for hanging out with loners, Robin still wasn't exactly sure what to do about Sarah, who sat by her lonesome at a table two across from his. Peggy, despite her cheery, hospitable appearance, didn't much care as she chattered away with her snobby theater friends who didnt even like her much anyway. Even the kids known for sitting by themselves hadn't a single clue of her existence, too enamored in their own solitude to notice much besides the darkness in front of their eyelids.

    Marshall, tidying a strand of his platinum hair, flashed Robin an inquisitive glance as he munched a chip, not stopping to chew before asking, "Have you talked to Paige lately?"

    Robin shook his head. "No. You forget I'm on her hit list?"

    Marshall smirked. "Yeah, she can't stand you." He chuckled. "But I'm worried about her. She isn't returning my calls."

    Zander gave him a nudge. "Bad sign," he said with a half smile.

    Robin rolled his eyes. He used to date Paige's best friend Anastasia before she moved away (they considered cross country long distance to be far too complicated, and both being intellectuals, they decided to move on with friendship in their hearts), and she always talked about how often Paige would get her phone confiscated by her overly stringent mother. He figured as much. "Phone probably got taken away. Show up at her house or something."

    "What if she's mad at me?"

    "Screw her," he said plainly, shruging in disinterest. Realizing the present innuendo, however, he quickly backpedaled, smirking. "Not that way."

    "I didn't think so." Marshall laughed. "That doesn't fly with her parents. Or her."

    "Whatever," Robin replied lackadaisically, shoving his tray to the side. He didn't like thinking about Paige. She made him think about middle school, and freshmen year. And that made him think of Anastasia.

    "You like anybody new?" Marshall asked, not sensing his friend's mood. Bad question.

    He shrugged, gesturing behind him, two tables down. "The new girl's kinda hot, I guess."

    "New girl?" This caught Zander's attention. He turned around, following Robin's gesture until he locked eyes with an unfamiliar brunette girl, sitting by herself. Marshall did the same, but, not having eyes for anyone besides his beloved Paige, he turned back around rather disinterestedly.

    "Yeah," Robin said, nodding. "Sarah something. She's in my lit class."

    Marshall questioned, "You talk to her yet?"

    "No chance," he said, shaking his head. "I waved, though. I think she's into me."

    Marshall smiled, reminiscing something from freshmen year with Paige, their first date, and suggested, "Ask her to the Winter Dance. It's Friday, right?"

    "I'm not going."

    Zander rolled his chocolate eyes, leaning tiredly against the light gray table. He didn't care much for dances himself, but he found Robin's lack of appreciation for such an available social life as quite irritating. Not many cared for the wheat blonde athlete, but it wasn't as if he didn't have connections within the cliques. Popular by comparison. And it was hard to deny that it didn't make poor Zander a little covetous at times, especially when he had a date opportunity so readily at his fingertips. "Do you ever go?"

    "Not since the very last one in eighth grade. I hate dances."

    "Do you hate hot new chicks?"

    "She probably doesn't even know there's gonna be a dance at all. Why don't you ask her?"

    "I don't like her the way you do! Go to her table. We'll cheer you on." He gave Marshall a sharp nudge in the side, much harder than the one he gave momnents before. "Right, Marshall?"

    "Yeah!" He smiled, fishing for his phone in his left pocket. "I can text you stuff to say."

    "Like I'd trust you." Robin glanced in Sarah's direction, meeting her eyes after a second or two, then rose from his seat, almost completely untouched foodtray balanced steadily in his pale hands, and pointed to the garbage container across the room. "I'll pass by her table on the way to the trash and say hi." He narrowed his teal eyes at Marshall, who had already started texting. "Put the phone away."

    His friends laughed as he walked away, his steps short and strides slow, as if he was prolonging something he believed to be inevitable. It wasn't like he was completely confident or without anxiety. In fact, he was pretty nervous. But he felt as if this was something he had to do, something he was forcibly pressured into, and Robin was not the type to back down from a challenge. Especially one from his friends.

    He made it to her table within seconds, and kept himself from freezing as if it were a Christmas miracle not to crack at this very moment. She was looking down at the table beside her, likely listening to their conversation out of either interest, or, more likely, pure boredom (as it was a table compiled of mostly old soul literary nerds), but her warm, emerald gaze soon met his teal one as he waved hello.

    "Hey," he said, standing before her. "It's uh..." He felt his phone vibrate within his pocket, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "It's the waving guy from English." He waved again, mimicking his earlier display. "Remember me?"
     
  16. Sarah smiled "Yeah, I remember you! We went to class about 10 minutes ago," she then moved a strand of hair away from her face.
    I hope he comes to sit next to me she thought to herself.
     
  17. Marshall and Zander wanted Robin to ask the girl out, but he was hardly ready to do that. His last relationship ended almost tragically, being in love with someone who was forced to move away, and breaking the contact barrier on purpose, just because it hurt too much. He and Anastasia were supposedly soulmates. Even Paige said that. But she lived in Oregon now. That made Pennsylvania seem like a foreign country. And there was no way she was coming back, so they agreed, with the reluctance plain and obvious, to just forget about each other. Robin hadn't talked to her since. He had her pictures, and her number. And he tried to call once, but hung up after one ring, but couldn't bring himself to delete their texts. Or her number. Her pictures. He missed her. But it would never work out.

    Robin just figured he'd chat with Sarah for awhile. She seemed cool, but he hardly knew her, so he wouldn't get his hopes up too high, seeing as how most girls he knew were pretty mindless, like Peggy, and his locker neighbors. And even Paige, despite her grades.

    He smiled, his tray balanced shakily in his hands, and did his best to carefully steady his food without dropping it down. "Yeah," he said, nodding. "Carter's lit is super boring. You seemed to know your stuff, though. You like English?"
     
  18. "Actually I hate it with a burning passion," she laughed. Suddenly the three cheerleaders that were in the same English class as both Robin and Sarah walked up to her.
    "Hi newbie," one said "say, you know what would be a good look on you? A bag on your face!"
    The girls laughed and Sarah didn't look offended, she looked bored.
    Without looking at them she said "you know they are doing face transplants now, why don't we take yours and put it back on the pig it came from."
    The girls became angry and walked away in a huff.
     
  19. Robin couldn't help but laugh - now that was a good one. Those girls were undeniably lame, walking cliches in designer jeans, but still, not many other gals had the nerve to stand up to them. He found it odd, since they were really just clowns, to put it bluntly, but he'd never pretend to understand the female hierarchy, and why some were so much more intimidating than others. He supposed, however, the same explanation could be said for rivalries in the male kingdom, as well, but the thought, rather unimportant at the moment, soon evaded him as a chuckle escaped his lips.

    Robin had a weird laugh. Probably one of the weirdest in the school. Some found it annoying, others endearing, but a mutual consensus was made that Robin's laugh, a snort-moan-squeal-giggle of sorts was undoubtedly odd. Being self conscious about it after years of teasing, of course, and due his deceptively insecure personality, he did his best to surpress it when he could. But now, the lack of such a strange chortle was futile, and it was all he could do to try and dissipate the very obvious redness in his cheeks.

    Smirking, he said to her, loud enough so the cheerleaders could hear, "Whoa. Trashed them." One of the ladies, a tall, strawberry blonde one named Janet - his right side locker neighbor - turned and shot him a twisted glare. Merely, he looked back slyly, smiling in a smug sort of way, and waved her goodbye. Finally out of their earshot, he continued, "They're probably heading back to the barn now," he said, smiling. "Two thirds of 'em are my locker neighbors."
     
  20. His laugh, to Sarah was contagious. She laughed with him and then looked down smiling. Robin was indeed handsome, she couldn't help but smile at everything he was saying.
    Wait! She was flirting?
    She needed to stop, she didn't even know the guy. Besides, he seemed more like a city guy who wouldn't be interested in animals, but then again she shouldn't judge a book by its cover.
    Suddenly her phone vibrated, Sarah took out her cell phone from her back pocket and opened it.
    "Oh shoot, one of my horses got out...I'd better go home and search for her..."
    She then looks at Robin, "my mom owns a farm..."
    She placed her phone in her back pocket, "I should go...you wanna come with? It beats sitting in class all day," she smiled sweetly.
     
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