"Alright, we're going to be doing debates for next week. You get to pick your own topic as long as it is about a policy or is evaluative. I'm assigning random partners though." Mrs. Lewis said, as she ripped off pieces of paper from a single sheet of notebook paper and went around the class. Groans went though the class and I questioned,
"Mrs. Lewis, do we have to do assigned partners? I really hate that."
"Yes, Lizzie, we do. But I am allowing you to pick your own topics."
"I'd rather be assigned a topic and get to pick my own partner."
"Tough luck." she said, peering down from her wire-rimmed frames. Stupid cow. "Put your names on the pieces of paper I handed out, fold it, and put it back in the basket," she shouted over the escalating voices of my peers. As long as I didn't get Matt or Jake, I'd be fine. They made me want to gouge my eyes out every time I heard them talk. I heard them have a debate about whether a square wheel or a round wheel was better. Somehow, Jake, who was defending the round wheel, lost. Despite the fact that the round wheel works and the square wheel doesn't. There was also the classic debate on whether "boobs or wieners were more kick ass."
Mrs. Lewis spent a couple minutes pulling out names, two at a time, and then quickly writing them on a piece of paper. "You can't change partners no matter how much you don't like them. Don't whine about it or you'll get points taken off. Lindsay and Alicia, Tyler and Katie, Jim and Louie, Lizzie and Dan…" I looked over my shoulder, saw Dan, and waved. "Go work on your debates now. I need a topic by tomorrow."
I grabbed my bag from the ground and walked over to Dan's area and took a seat behind him. "Hey," I said, in greeting.
"So…can you think of a topic?" he asked, pushing his glasses up on his face. I don't really talk to Dan, but he seemed pretty cool. He's really nerdy, but he wasn't socially awkward or anything. I think his shaggy brown hair saved him from looking too dorky. I was pretty sure he had monkey ears hiding beneath his hair, but it couldn't be confirmed, as of yet.
"Not really, but I do want to do something fun. Drinking age debates are boring."
"Let's do something about NASA!" he said excitedly, a grin forming on his face. "You like NASA, right?"
"I don't particularly like or dislike NASA, to be honest."
"You won't care if we do our debate on it then?"
"Nah," I replied, grabbing the hair band off of my wrist and tying my hair into a bun. Good God, it was ridiculously hot for being September. I think Hell might have been a little cooler. "We could do it on whether or not NASA is a worthwhile investment for the United States…"
"Works for me."
"So who is going to get the side of it being a crappy investment?" I asked. Dan quickly put his index finger to his nose.
"You will," he said, his finger still touching his nose.
"But I don't want to…" I whined.
"You lost at the Nose Game!" he exclaimed, triumphantly.
"That was improper Nose Game etiquette. Everyone knows that you're supposed to shout 'Nose goes!' and then place your finger on your nose." I promptly informed him, my eyes narrowing.
"Uhh…no."
"Fine," I sighed, giving in – even though he was a cheater at the Nose Game. Monday mornings did not make me feisty and I was unwilling to go into battle.
TNG
"But Dan," I moaned, several months later, "I don't want to talk to Jenny…she's so god damn annoying." I looked across the gym and saw her doing what I supposed she believed to be "flirting" with Jake. Gag me.
"Well, one of us has to tell her that the assignment isn't due tomorrow. You heard Lansing. We have to or he'll be pissed." I looked at him. He looked back at me. A silent challenge passed between us. Before anything else could be said, I screamed,
"NOSE GOES!" and jabbed my finger onto my nose. Unfortunately for me, I was a little too excited and ending up stabbing myself in the eye. "Urgh!" He didn't see that, he did NOT see that…
"Hahaha, I SAW that!" Dan exclaimed, laughing loudly, attracting the attention of Ms. Herland, the creepy gym teacher. It was just wrong for her to undress her male AND female students with her eyes.
"Mr. Jennsen! Why are you not playing Pickle Ball right now?" Even when she was trying to be stern she still sounded uber creepy. She was like sixty years old and always wore way too short shorts. Disturbing much? I think so.
"Uh…we were discussing strategy, you know. Pickle Ball is a very intense game. Very intense. And we like to win, don't we Lizzie?" Dan asked, struggling to keep a straight face.
"Oh, hell yeah we do!" I agreed, holding my hand up for a high five. He slapped it and we turned our attention back to Ms. Herland, grinning manically.
"Just start playing," she sighed and then turned around, but not before sending one more lustful glance in Dan's direction. Or mine. But for the sake of my sanity, I'm going to say it was directed towards Dan.
"I think she thinks we're a lost cause." I told him, with a shrug of my shoulders.
"I wonder why…Dude, is it just me or does it smell like onion in here?" I took a whiff and smelt only old sweat. Whilst an appealing smell, it was not quite onion-like.
"It's just you." I said and then hit him in the head with the Pickle Ball. Or wiffle ball, whatever you want to call it. "And you have to talk to Jenny. Haha. Now, let's play."
TNG
"Oi! Daniel get your butt over here!" I semi-yelled. Several mothers with crying babies in strollers gave me dirty looks. Eh, oh well. Part of being a mother, I say. If you don't want to deal with all the problems, sucks to be you. I was at the mall, looking for a present for my dad for his birthday. I saw Dan's familiar head and decided to say hello. He turned in confusion, looking for the person that called his name. I decided to become a total ass, and started jumping up and down, waving my arms wildly. A crowd of tweens passed by me and sneered. Well, at least I have boobs. Ha!
As he came closer, I saw that he wasn't alone. There was some girl with him. She was really pretty. My heart fell a little and I brushed it off – must be heartburn from eating those damn French fries. They were so worth it though. "Hey, Danni-boy!" I exclaimed, ruffling his hair. He scowled a little and asked,
"How's it going?"
"Good, good. Just doing a little birthday shopping for my daddy. Is this your girlfriend?" He shuddered a little before replying.
"God no! This is my mother!"
"Seriously?! You're such a MILF!" I told his mother. I immediately turned bright red. I could handle embarrassment, but this was beyond embarrassment. This was humiliation. Oh my god, Lizzie. CENSORSHIP, god damn you!
She really was hot though. She had a figure to die for, big brown eyes, pink lips, and long blonde hair. I'd do her. If, you know, I was into that sort of thing. Riiiight.
"Uh, thank you?" she said, her full lips turning into a hesitant smile. "What's a MILF?" she asked, her eyes darting between Dan and me. I looked at Dan, eyes wide, ready to mouth "Nose goes!" but his index finger was already on his nose. I swallowed and mumbled,
"Um, it stands for…majjum….er,… illium losseh fueem. It means, uh…'really cool woman' in ancient….ancient Sasquatch." She tilted her head to the side, apparently confused.
"Sasquatch…as in Big Foot?" I started scratching the back of my neck, something I only do when I'm deeply uncomfortable. I didn't want to lie, but the lies just kept on coming.
"Not quite. Sasquatch is actually a very old language. It was only spoken by
about 253 people in some country in South America. It quickly died out, but there are some phrases that were retained. This is one of them." I spoke quickly, my words jumbling together.
"Well, that is very interesting, sweetie. My little Daniel has such intelligent friends!" she informed me, beaming proudly at her son. "What did you say your name was again?"
"I didn't. It's Lizzie, though."
"How nice! I can't wait to tell all my friends that a very nice friend of Daniel's called me a 'MILF'!" My eyes widened and Dan started choking on his laughter. "Are you alright, dearie?" she asked with motherly concern. "I have some water in my bag, sweetpea…" She dug through her black Chanel bag to pull out a small bottle of water, holding it in a perfectly manicured hand.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," he told her, swatting her hand with the water bottle away.
"Well…I should probably go now. Got lots of shopping to do, you know. See you later Dan! It was nice to meet you Mrs. Jennesen." As they waved good bye and turned around, I slapped my hand on my forehead and groaned. "Christ, Lizzie, why do you have to be such a spaztard all the time?" I whispered to myself. I then walked into a pole.
-10 points in the game of life.
TNG
It was a Saturday night and Dan and I decided to go to the drive-in. Too bad it was snowing – it really impairs the clarity of the movie, surprisingly. Or not. Also, surprisingly, we were literally the only ones at the drive-in. I still don't know how a drive-in can make a profit in the winter.
"Danni-boy," I began, turning my eyes away from the screen, where a fifteen minute long action sequence was still playing, "this sucks. A lot." My point was emphasized by a building being blown up on the screen.
"I actually like the movie," he said, his eyes never leaving the screen. "Hey, hand me that bag of Sour Patch Kids."
"I ate the last one. And anyway, I wasn't talking about the movie. But now that you mention it, the movie sucks too. I was talking about being at a drive-in in the middle of winter."
"I can't believe you ate the last Sour Patch Kid! Fattie!" he exclaimed in mock anger, poking me in the belly button. I giggled involuntarily. Kind of like the Pillsbury Doughboy. Oh lord, I really am a Fattie. He snorted at my reaction and then added, "I guess I should have checked the weather report."
"You think so?" I asked sarcastically. I snuggled a little deeper into my blankets and tried watching the movie. Car chases get boring after awhile. "Dan…"
"Hmm…?"
"I wanna play a game."
"But there's a movie…"
"Wait for the DVD to come out," I pleaded, trying to give him puppy dog eyes. He sighed and took one last sorrowful glance at the movie,
"Fine…what do you want to play?"
"Truth….with a twist."
"Explain, Lizzie."
"Someone throws out a question and you have to answer it truthfully. But the catch is, we play the Nose Game while doing it. So, whoever doesn't put their finger on their nose first has to answer the question, even if it is their own." Dan looked at me, a befuddled expression marring his face,
"Did you just make that up?"
"No. The action scenes were really long." I told him simply.
"I see. So who goes first?" He looked like he was ready to put his finger on his nose, but I stopped him before he could even begin.
"I'll ask the first question. We'll have a countdown for movement to the nose, so that there is no cheating." I looked blatantly at him; he was a known cheater. Dan tried to look innocent but failed miserably. "What is your most embarrassing moment? Hands on your lap….3…2…1."
Our fingers shot to our noses, but Dan clearly won. His reflexes were good, I'd give him that much. He played a lot of video games.
"Wahaha! I won, you fool!" he cackled, in what I assumed to be his best evil genius impression. He was much more excitable out of school than in school. I loved it.
"It probably has to be when I was in sixth grade. Me and Lori were passing notes to each other, and I had this huge crush on Matt. So we were writing about that and I was going on and on about him. Mrs. Stevens found us passing notes and made me go to the front of the class, and read what I last wrote which happened to be, 'I would totally marry Matt if I could. He's sooooooo cool and funny and cute.' Matt was in my class."
"Ouch." I nodded in agreement and told him,
"You're telling me." The game went on and I learned that Dan hated it when his guy friends hit on his mom, secretly watched America's Next Top Model, and wished he could be a stunt double, among other things. I told him that my secret love was the Jonas Brothers, I was scared of Oompa Loompas, and that my cat knew all my secrets.
"Who do you have a crush on?" Dan asked next, his brown eyes gazing intently at me. "3…2….1." I lost. My finger just couldn't get to my nose quick enough. "So who is it, Lizzie?" he asked quietly. I took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. I moved my head so that I was looking up at the car's roof. The gray cloth that covered it was peeling in places.
"You," I whispered. I closed my eyes for a second before turning back to him. His silence was devastating. And the worst part was I couldn't even run away because I was in a stupid car in the middle of nowhere in the winter.
"Ask me the same question," he demanded, his voice husky.
"Who do you have a crush on?" I asked softly, following his orders. He grabbed my index finger and guided it to my nose, slowly.
"Ask me who I like, Lizzie. I lost the Nose Game. I have to answer the question." A small smile began forming on his features.
"Who do you like Dan?"
"You." he replied and leaned in and kissed my nose. I bit my lip and started laughing; my stomach felt like there were a million butterflies in it and I felt light-headed. "What?"
"Look at the screen." The hero and some girl he picked up along the way were doing the nasty. Oh, those are some interesting facial expressions.
"Uhh…I don't think I imagined it happening this way."
"Too classy for you?" I asked, smirking.
"Yeah, that's it," he muttered sarcastically before kissing me soundly on the lips. I always knew there was a reason why I loved the Nose Game.
TNGTNGTNGTNG
So I tried to make this one more detailed since that's the problem with my other stories. I actually plan to rewrite 'Learning the ABC's of High School Love.' I haven't even gotten that far into it, but I do want to revise it a little. It would be great if you left some feed back! I wrote this when I was really pissed off because my sister was being a massive bitch, but it kind of cheered me up, haha. I'm sure there are a bunch of mistakes in here, but I've look through it like 3 times and at this point, I just want to post it. Wikipedia 'Pickleball' if you want to know what it is. I actually had to play this in gym class. It would have been fun, but my partner was absolutely annoying.