Jinxed Things Ringing
High School
So you would imagine that life would be a breeze now that I had spent my time carefree-ly with Brendon.
Wrong.
School still was hectic as ever and homework started piling in more lately.
I had realized this the day I actually sat down and pulled out my agenda.
"Whoa!" Brendon cried scrambling up from the bed. "What the hell is that?"
"What?" I panicked looking around the room for some sort of rabies infested bug.
"That!" Brendon pointed at me.
"What?!" I shrieked and checked myself frantically.
"What are you holding?" Brendon asked exasperated.
"My agenda?" I questioned holding up the thing screen.
"Agenda?!' Brendon screeched coming over towards me. "What happened to the books?"
"Books? You mean with. . . paper?" I questioned. He nodded as if I asked how one would go about breathing.
"Uhhh YES! Paper! Don't tell me you guys got rid of paper!" Brendon cried.
"Calm yourself boy! Paper isn't used very much anymore! Everyone owns these. It's built to save it actually. Nobody could take the pollution and this is a better alternative I guess. Well that's what I was told when I was little," I shrugged.
Brendon stared at it with marvel and caution.
"But it's so... so..."
"Shiny?"
"Yeaaaaahhh," Brendon gushed.
I snorted. "This is ooooold. They don't even make these anymore. This is a 3.7 version model T6. Everybody else already has the 5.8 version model T8," and with that I tossed my agenda on the couch next to me.
Brendon's mouth dropped and quickly snapped shut.
"S-so what happened to books?"
"Don't use them much. I mean. We have libraries and stuff and some classes do provide text books. But nobody needs them since we have desks,"
"What do desks have to do with anything?" Brendon asked utterly confused.
I looked at him as if he had gone mad. A slow smile formed on my face.
"You have to come to school with me tomorrow,"
"What if they don't like me?"
"Why does it matter?" I asked my anxious poltergeist.
"I dunno," He mumbled. "I'm going back to high school after twenty years. It's just a littel unnerving,"
"Aw," I said standing on my toes and pecking his lips. He smiled softly down at me. Finally the student in front of us left and allowed us to approach the front desk.
"Hello," the secretary greeted us. She slightly narrowed her eyes at me but didn't say anything. "How can I assist you two?"
"I'd like to bring him here as my guest, is that okay?" I asked her.
"Uhm. Is he a student from another university?" She asked.
So she did remember me. . .
"Nope," I popped my lips.
"Then. . . " She trailed off.
"I just wanted him to sit in with me at my classes and show him hows its done here," I explained to her.
"Is he from another country?" She asked in confusion.
"N-"
"Yes," Brendon said in a really cheesy British accent. "I'm originally from Bristol and our curricular is so much different than here. I wanted to see it for myself,"
I almost peed myself when I heard Brendon.
"Just sign here," She muttered slapping down a pen and turning away to answer the phone.
"Jonny, what do I do?" He hissed at me seeing the small slender stick.
"You sign in," I said in a 'duh' tone.
"This is so trippy," Brendon chuckled and signed his name into the pad.
"Why?"
"Two things. One, I haven't signed my name is forever. I feel like a rock star again," At this I rolled my eyes. "And two, we use to use these things for credit cards,"
"Are you serious?" I giggled.
"Mhmm. Why? How do you use them now?"
"We just scan the card and finger print," I laughed.
"Whoaaaa, futuristic gadgets," Brendon drawled.
"C'mon," I laughed pulling his arms. "This is really want I want to show you,"
"What are the lockers used for- no wait! Don't tell me. . . they transport you to your class!" Brendon snapped his fingers quickly.
"Goofball," I chuckled.
As we walked down the corridor, the pair of us recieved strange and curious looks from the other students.
The new girl with a boy? A cute boy? A cute boy that wasn't in uniform?
Hmm. Ladies let the whispering begin!
Brendon must have not noticed because he kept firing off ridiculous assumptions about the school.
"Do the water fountains spray flavors according to your mood?"
"Yep,"
"Ohmygosh, really?!"
"No,"
"Oh. . . hey do the white boards erase themselves automatically or do they . . ."
"There's Michelle's locker- oh there she is," I said spotting my friend. She must have sensed me coming because she turned around at that moment and her eyes lit up.
"Brendon!" She squealed and threw herself at him. He caught her and laughed, returning the hug.
"Mmmmmm hugs," He smiled in a pervish way. "Are you charging for this?"
"Ass," She laughed smacking his chest. "I haven't seen you in forever. Where has our little French bird been hiding you?"
"In her bed,"
I smacked Brendon's arm and he shot me a smirk.
"So what's he doing here anyways?" Michelle asked me ignoring her previous conversation with another student, who shot me an annoyed look and stalked off.
"I want to show him high school after 20 years," I grinned proudly. "Did you know that they used sign in pads for credit cards?! Can you imagine how long that would take to buy something?"
"No way! Get out of here!" Michelle's jaw fell.
"Nothing seems to be what it appears I guess," Brendon said while shoving his hands in his pants.
"He's second guessing himself today," I remarked.
"Oh, I do that all the time anyways," Brendon waved his hand around. "Or do I?"
"Nerd," Michelle laughed. "I guess today will be fun,"
"Unless it's 5 PM and I haven't put on pants yet . . . then it can hardly be a good day," Brendon yawned.
A couple of girls walking by paused and giggled at Brendon. Brendon, who took this to pride, wiggled his eyebrows at the girls.
I rolled me eyes.
"Show off," I laughed.
"No. If I was showing off, I'd do this-" Brendon said pressing his lips to mine lifting me up slightly with his arms around my waist. I squirmed and kicked my legs until Brendon finally put me down.
I shoved him with my shoulder knocking him into the locker. Michelle's face was stunned.
Shocked.
And then . . . satisfied.
"What?" I snapped at her. She shrugged innocently. A little too innocently.
"A little PDA never hurt anyone . . . except Brendon,"
"Owie, I'm going to bruise now," Brendon whined.
"No you won't. And shut up! This won't be mentioned to anybody," I warned her.
She just giggled.
I pouted.
"Let's go to class grumpy," She laughed.
"I'm scared," Brendon whimpered.
"Don't be silly," I nudged him. He pulled up an extra chair next my desk.
"But I mean. . . there's a screen in the desk! This is crazy! No books, just direct access...it's like a touch computer screen!" Brendon wailed.
"Yeah . . . I guess you could call it that," I shrugged.
"Oh my god!" Brendon slapped his forehead and smoothed back his hair in utter shock.
I laughed at his reaction.
"This is revolutionary! And I thought getting to the next level of Gears of War was amazing!"
"Which war was that?" I asked him furrowing my eyebrows. It was Brendon's turn to chuckle at me.
"Okay okay, settle down. It's first period, let's not forget that we're in school. I'd be worried if you're that excited," Mr. Gaius strided into the room with a smirk. The class chuckled and relaxed.
"Okay," He smiled. "Open up your assignments, we'll go over that first and then discuss some themes- oooohhh suck it up you big pansy!" He shouted at the kids who started groaning good naturedly.
I tapped my stick against the screen to start it up, Brendon hanging on to every movement.
I sort of liked being in control. Living in the present rather than living in Brendon's past.
I dragged open the icon that had the assignment name and opened it up, making the icon stretch into a document.
"Whoaaa," Brendon breathed.
"Uhm! Mr. G! Jonveev has a guest!" An annoyingly sick voice shouted while raising her hand.
"It's Genviève you idiot!" A boy called out, pronouncing my name properly. The girl rolled her eyes and slouched in her seat.
"Ah! How could I miss our hip and cool looking guest," Mr. Gaius joked. Brendon laughed whole heartedly.
"Somebody appreciates my humor," Mr. G muttered. Brendon seemed to have taken a liking to my Literature teacher because he laughed again his voice carried through the room.
I swear the estrogen started rising in the class.
"Alright lad, up you stand. Introduce yourself. Why are you here? Where are you from? How much do you want?" Mr. G clapped his hands.
Brendon glanced at me and I simply nodded at him as he slowly stood up rubbing his hands against his jeans.
"Jesus, this is like high school all over again," Brendon muttered nervously.
"You're at the right place then my boy," Mr. G said. Everyone snickered.
"My name is Brendon, I'm here with a friend, I'm from Summerlin, Nevada, and I'll accept brunettes. . . except that one," he said pointing to the girl who pronounced my name wrong.
I inwardly laughed.
"Nevada,"
"Vegas?"
"Las Vegas!"
Small chit chat erupted from class as whispers about Vegas was spread around.
"Oh my Gawd Vegas!" Mr. G mocked the class. Everyone laughed.
"So how many hookers have you met?"
"You never can tell in Vegas. You'd be surprised," Brendon laughed scratching the back of his head.
"Are you single?" A girl shouted out. A couple of other girls laughed.
"Uhm," Brendon stammered. He looked down at me and I provided him with no aid and stared right back emotionless.
I wanted to hear his answer.
Because I was just as confused.
He finally grinned.
"I'm not available ladies. Sorry,"
Wrong.
School still was hectic as ever and homework started piling in more lately.
I had realized this the day I actually sat down and pulled out my agenda.
"Whoa!" Brendon cried scrambling up from the bed. "What the hell is that?"
"What?" I panicked looking around the room for some sort of rabies infested bug.
"That!" Brendon pointed at me.
"What?!" I shrieked and checked myself frantically.
"What are you holding?" Brendon asked exasperated.
"My agenda?" I questioned holding up the thing screen.
"Agenda?!' Brendon screeched coming over towards me. "What happened to the books?"
"Books? You mean with. . . paper?" I questioned. He nodded as if I asked how one would go about breathing.
"Uhhh YES! Paper! Don't tell me you guys got rid of paper!" Brendon cried.
"Calm yourself boy! Paper isn't used very much anymore! Everyone owns these. It's built to save it actually. Nobody could take the pollution and this is a better alternative I guess. Well that's what I was told when I was little," I shrugged.
Brendon stared at it with marvel and caution.
"But it's so... so..."
"Shiny?"
"Yeaaaaahhh," Brendon gushed.
I snorted. "This is ooooold. They don't even make these anymore. This is a 3.7 version model T6. Everybody else already has the 5.8 version model T8," and with that I tossed my agenda on the couch next to me.
Brendon's mouth dropped and quickly snapped shut.
"S-so what happened to books?"
"Don't use them much. I mean. We have libraries and stuff and some classes do provide text books. But nobody needs them since we have desks,"
"What do desks have to do with anything?" Brendon asked utterly confused.
I looked at him as if he had gone mad. A slow smile formed on my face.
"You have to come to school with me tomorrow,"
"What if they don't like me?"
"Why does it matter?" I asked my anxious poltergeist.
"I dunno," He mumbled. "I'm going back to high school after twenty years. It's just a littel unnerving,"
"Aw," I said standing on my toes and pecking his lips. He smiled softly down at me. Finally the student in front of us left and allowed us to approach the front desk.
"Hello," the secretary greeted us. She slightly narrowed her eyes at me but didn't say anything. "How can I assist you two?"
"I'd like to bring him here as my guest, is that okay?" I asked her.
"Uhm. Is he a student from another university?" She asked.
So she did remember me. . .
"Nope," I popped my lips.
"Then. . . " She trailed off.
"I just wanted him to sit in with me at my classes and show him hows its done here," I explained to her.
"Is he from another country?" She asked in confusion.
"N-"
"Yes," Brendon said in a really cheesy British accent. "I'm originally from Bristol and our curricular is so much different than here. I wanted to see it for myself,"
I almost peed myself when I heard Brendon.
"Just sign here," She muttered slapping down a pen and turning away to answer the phone.
"Jonny, what do I do?" He hissed at me seeing the small slender stick.
"You sign in," I said in a 'duh' tone.
"This is so trippy," Brendon chuckled and signed his name into the pad.
"Why?"
"Two things. One, I haven't signed my name is forever. I feel like a rock star again," At this I rolled my eyes. "And two, we use to use these things for credit cards,"
"Are you serious?" I giggled.
"Mhmm. Why? How do you use them now?"
"We just scan the card and finger print," I laughed.
"Whoaaaa, futuristic gadgets," Brendon drawled.
"C'mon," I laughed pulling his arms. "This is really want I want to show you,"
"What are the lockers used for- no wait! Don't tell me. . . they transport you to your class!" Brendon snapped his fingers quickly.
"Goofball," I chuckled.
As we walked down the corridor, the pair of us recieved strange and curious looks from the other students.
The new girl with a boy? A cute boy? A cute boy that wasn't in uniform?
Hmm. Ladies let the whispering begin!
Brendon must have not noticed because he kept firing off ridiculous assumptions about the school.
"Do the water fountains spray flavors according to your mood?"
"Yep,"
"Ohmygosh, really?!"
"No,"
"Oh. . . hey do the white boards erase themselves automatically or do they . . ."
"There's Michelle's locker- oh there she is," I said spotting my friend. She must have sensed me coming because she turned around at that moment and her eyes lit up.
"Brendon!" She squealed and threw herself at him. He caught her and laughed, returning the hug.
"Mmmmmm hugs," He smiled in a pervish way. "Are you charging for this?"
"Ass," She laughed smacking his chest. "I haven't seen you in forever. Where has our little French bird been hiding you?"
"In her bed,"
I smacked Brendon's arm and he shot me a smirk.
"So what's he doing here anyways?" Michelle asked me ignoring her previous conversation with another student, who shot me an annoyed look and stalked off.
"I want to show him high school after 20 years," I grinned proudly. "Did you know that they used sign in pads for credit cards?! Can you imagine how long that would take to buy something?"
"No way! Get out of here!" Michelle's jaw fell.
"Nothing seems to be what it appears I guess," Brendon said while shoving his hands in his pants.
"He's second guessing himself today," I remarked.
"Oh, I do that all the time anyways," Brendon waved his hand around. "Or do I?"
"Nerd," Michelle laughed. "I guess today will be fun,"
"Unless it's 5 PM and I haven't put on pants yet . . . then it can hardly be a good day," Brendon yawned.
A couple of girls walking by paused and giggled at Brendon. Brendon, who took this to pride, wiggled his eyebrows at the girls.
I rolled me eyes.
"Show off," I laughed.
"No. If I was showing off, I'd do this-" Brendon said pressing his lips to mine lifting me up slightly with his arms around my waist. I squirmed and kicked my legs until Brendon finally put me down.
I shoved him with my shoulder knocking him into the locker. Michelle's face was stunned.
Shocked.
And then . . . satisfied.
"What?" I snapped at her. She shrugged innocently. A little too innocently.
"A little PDA never hurt anyone . . . except Brendon,"
"Owie, I'm going to bruise now," Brendon whined.
"No you won't. And shut up! This won't be mentioned to anybody," I warned her.
She just giggled.
I pouted.
"Let's go to class grumpy," She laughed.
"I'm scared," Brendon whimpered.
"Don't be silly," I nudged him. He pulled up an extra chair next my desk.
"But I mean. . . there's a screen in the desk! This is crazy! No books, just direct access...it's like a touch computer screen!" Brendon wailed.
"Yeah . . . I guess you could call it that," I shrugged.
"Oh my god!" Brendon slapped his forehead and smoothed back his hair in utter shock.
I laughed at his reaction.
"This is revolutionary! And I thought getting to the next level of Gears of War was amazing!"
"Which war was that?" I asked him furrowing my eyebrows. It was Brendon's turn to chuckle at me.
"Okay okay, settle down. It's first period, let's not forget that we're in school. I'd be worried if you're that excited," Mr. Gaius strided into the room with a smirk. The class chuckled and relaxed.
"Okay," He smiled. "Open up your assignments, we'll go over that first and then discuss some themes- oooohhh suck it up you big pansy!" He shouted at the kids who started groaning good naturedly.
I tapped my stick against the screen to start it up, Brendon hanging on to every movement.
I sort of liked being in control. Living in the present rather than living in Brendon's past.
I dragged open the icon that had the assignment name and opened it up, making the icon stretch into a document.
"Whoaaa," Brendon breathed.
"Uhm! Mr. G! Jonveev has a guest!" An annoyingly sick voice shouted while raising her hand.
"It's Genviève you idiot!" A boy called out, pronouncing my name properly. The girl rolled her eyes and slouched in her seat.
"Ah! How could I miss our hip and cool looking guest," Mr. Gaius joked. Brendon laughed whole heartedly.
"Somebody appreciates my humor," Mr. G muttered. Brendon seemed to have taken a liking to my Literature teacher because he laughed again his voice carried through the room.
I swear the estrogen started rising in the class.
"Alright lad, up you stand. Introduce yourself. Why are you here? Where are you from? How much do you want?" Mr. G clapped his hands.
Brendon glanced at me and I simply nodded at him as he slowly stood up rubbing his hands against his jeans.
"Jesus, this is like high school all over again," Brendon muttered nervously.
"You're at the right place then my boy," Mr. G said. Everyone snickered.
"My name is Brendon, I'm here with a friend, I'm from Summerlin, Nevada, and I'll accept brunettes. . . except that one," he said pointing to the girl who pronounced my name wrong.
I inwardly laughed.
"Nevada,"
"Vegas?"
"Las Vegas!"
Small chit chat erupted from class as whispers about Vegas was spread around.
"Oh my Gawd Vegas!" Mr. G mocked the class. Everyone laughed.
"So how many hookers have you met?"
"You never can tell in Vegas. You'd be surprised," Brendon laughed scratching the back of his head.
"Are you single?" A girl shouted out. A couple of other girls laughed.
"Uhm," Brendon stammered. He looked down at me and I provided him with no aid and stared right back emotionless.
I wanted to hear his answer.
Because I was just as confused.
He finally grinned.
"I'm not available ladies. Sorry,"
♠ ♠ ♠
Aw.