I had my first human interaction with a peer later that day. The girl next to me leaned over, smack-dab in the middle of a Chemistry lab that I attentively ignoring. “What’s your name?”
“She told you yesterday.” I said, suddenly interested in the test tubes before me.
“Yeah, well, I forgot.” She said. “What’s your name?” She asked again.
“Gregory Firth.”
“That wasn’t it.” She glared at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Nate.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Nate.” She whispered, since we were, after all, still in class.
And then there was a blessed thirty seconds of silence.
“Well, aren’t you going to ask my name?”
I scratched at the back of my hand. “No, I wasn’t really planning on it.” Another thirty seconds of intense staring on her part and intense ignoring on mine. I finally caved in. “You really want to tell me, don’t you?”
“It’s Julianna.” She provided, almost before I finished speaking. “But I go by Argo.”
“Cause that makes all sorts of sense.” I said. “You’ve already got two names mashed together in your first, might as well go by a third.”
“Do you have to try and be a jerk, or does it come naturally?”
“I’m just socially inept. It’s a disability.” I said.
“Where are you from?”
“A really bad place. I liked it there.” A bit of a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
“You don’t live there anymore?”
“I live in a nice place now. I hate it.”
Suddenly the teacher’s voice cut through out little chat. “Have you two gotten nice and introduced?”
I stood up. I dramatically pointed at Julianna/Argo. “She started it, ma’am! I’m just a victim.” I sat back down, and hoped I’d ticked her off enough to leave me alone from now on.
“Do you have to try and be a jerk, or does it come naturally?”
“I’m just socially inept. It’s a disability.” I said.
*
I stood up. I dramatically pointed at Julianna/Argo. “She started it, ma’am! I’m just a victim.” I sat back down, and hoped I’d ticked her off enough to leave me alone from now on.
I could kill off a few characters. I could have December and Nate get married next chapter. ew gross I could make Nate turns into a zombie due to a synapse in his brain getting fried.
But could you actually physically pull that off and live with yourself?
See, I wasn't sure. Spellcheck didn't like either. Lol, both are better than "rook."
Some days Spellcheck is your best friend, and other days it's just no help at all. I just looked up the definition of rook to see where it came from, and apparently it did used to be called a tower; but "the term castle is considered informal, incorrect, or old-fashioned".
Yeah, and it's better on some programs than others. Everything about Chess is old-fashioned.
-last edited on Mar 1, 2019 15:58:13 GMT by TheGreatCon
Post by TheGreatCon on Mar 1, 2019 15:58:01 GMT
“What?”
“The over-sized drone.”
“It’s coming.” She said confidently.
“Oh, that’s great.” I said, twiddling my thumbs. I shifted my weight from one foot to other. “You’re sure we don’t have to actually, you know, go get it from the parking pad?”
A hovercar whizzed in next to us. She opened the door. “Not necessary.”
“Oh wow.” I said. “I really should’ve seen this coming.”
“Where’d you come from? The past?” She motioned for me to climb in.
I slid myself into the seat, scooting over so that, unfortunately, she could sit next to me. “No, we totally had self-driving hovercars. And invisible doors, buildings with forty-three floors and a stupid mandatory physical gambit.”
“Where are you from?” She reiterated an earlier question, sliding in next to me.
“The past.” I said.
“Okay, here’s a more literal question. Where am I dropping you off at?”
“Y’know the upscale apartments by the Creamer?” I asked, using the one landmark I remembered.
Luckily, she did. “You live there?”
“Yep, I sleep in the vats of milk.”
“Why won’t you answer any of my questions?” She asked.
“Answers are valuable. If you knew too many, it could be dangerous.” The car smoothly lifted off the ground, the only sound a slight murmur. This was an advanced model. “This your car?”
“Yes. Well, I mean, the parents bought it for me, but it’s my name on the deed.” She said.
My interest kind of died. I needed to concentrate on staying alive. Like staring down the traffic actually helped. “Very nice.”
“Have you been given a game ranking yet?”
“I ain’t been given nothing but a headache and bruises.” I said, my eyes still on the other vehicles.
“All players are rated on a scale of ten according to their statistics and individual performances. I was originally drafted as a five, but I ranked up last week.”
“Congratulations,” I said, and she knew I didn’t mean it.
“You’ll probably be a…what…eight?” She gave me a one-over that made my uncomfortableness meter spike.
I snorted. “Why does everybody keep assuming I’m good at sports.”
“You’re tall, of athletic build and look like you were raised in and on sewer.”
“Oh wow, thanks.” I rolled my eyes.
The car decelerated, and started setting us down. “We’re here. Which one are you in?”
“Put me down here, I’ll walk.”
“Like bricks I am.”
“I’ll jump out of this thing, or so help me.” I threatened.
She gave me a resigned look. “You’re a difficult person.”
“I have a permit for that.” I said, as we set down. I grabbed the handle, and was about to throw myself out and down the street, but then I remembered my manners. “Hey, thanks.”
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