Homeroom

39: Doritos

[A/N] Song for this chapter is Fight Song by Rachel Platten. IT'S SO CATCHY!

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"Hey, so everyone's invited to Al's house for a Christmas Eve party," Aaron says. Though I warned him against it, he skipped German class to eat lunch with me. Luckily, no teacher or student questioned his presence here.

"Yeah," Charlie agrees, "he said it's going to be huge. You coming, Callie?"

"Yeah, duh," I reply with a smile, nudging Aaron with my shoulder. "Is 4 Days to Jupiter providing the music? I heard they're really good."

He laughs, softly kissing my cheek. "Maybe we'll play a song or two."

"I thought PDA was against school rules," Charlie complains over the voices of a hundred other students.

"Do I look like I play by the rules? I'm skipping class as we speak," Aaron points out, pulling at the neckline of his t-shirt.

With the shake of his head, Charlie grumbles and looks down at his tray of food. "Whatever."

"Aren't you supposed to be in class, Aaron?" the German student teacher, Miss Coller, asks as she crosses her arms and raises her eyebrow.

"Aren't you supposed to be too?" he replies, confused. 

Honestly, I was thinking the same thing. Two great minds think alike, I guess.

"Well, that comment just earned you a detention. Now, get back to class," the brown-haired woman harshly says, looking through her glasses with judging eyes.

Aaron groans, getting up from his seat and presses a quick kiss on my cheek. "See you later, babe."

"Love you too, Aaron!" Charlie squeals, laughing.

The student teacher shoots Charlie a really weird look, and I can't help but laugh as the two of them leave the lunchroom. Aaron winks at me as he exits through the open doorway, a dimpled smile splashed on his face.

"You're such a weirdo," I tell Charlie as I eat the last couple of Doritos left the my bag. Aaron didn't hesitate to eat most of them.

"It's called humor, get used to it, babe," he replies, trying to sound like Aaron.

"Just stop," I chuckle, getting up to dump out my trash.

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"Hey, I need your help," I hear Luke say as I pick out my History book from my locker.

"Help?" I question, looking over my shoulder. "With what?"

He glances around the hallway. "A gift for Shay," he whispers.

"And what do I have to do with this?"

"Well, you know her better than anyone else," he lets out, obviously stressed by the whole situation.

I slam the door of my locker shut and shove my hair out of my face and behind my ears, "Look, I really don't know-"

Luke looks at me with these big, blue, pleading eyes. "Please, Callie, please just help me with this one thing."

I bite on my lip, thinking. If he's trying to do something nice for my best friend, I might as well help him out, right? "Fine," I reluctantly agree, "as long as we clear the bad blood between us. We're on the same team now, okay?"

"I can't promise anything," Luke says, sticking out his giant, lanky hand, "but I'll try."

My eyes narrow, a smile making its way of my face as I firmly shake his hand. "Okay, deal."

"So what do you think she'll like?"

"Well," I reply, thinking hard, "she really doesn't want anything specific. But, if you give her something from the heart, she'll cherish it forever."

"Like what?" Luke incredulously asks. "A handmade paper bag puppet?"

"No," I hastily snap. Seriously, how stupid can this boy be? "Do something romantic."

"Stop being vague and just tell me already," he demands, impatiently running his hand through his hair.

"I don't know, just do something from the heart. Cook her dinner or something, I don't know."

"That's actually not that bad of an idea," he admits. "You said she's into that sort of thing?"

"I guess. Who wouldn't want someone to cook them a surprise dinner?"

A silence falls over our conversation.

"Can I go to class now?" I ask. "I really don't feel like being late."

"Sure, bye," Luke spits out. He saunters down the hallway without saying goodbye, rounding a corner and disappearing as the bell rings.

Sweet,  sounds like I'm late.

I head downstairs to Art class, walking in and quietly heading to my seat. "You're late," Mrs. Johnson points out, eyes focused on her easel.

"I know, sorry."

"It's fine, just get your stuff set up and finish up your drawing. It's due tomorrow."

I head over to the rack against the window and search for my drawing of an apple. I gasp as I pull it off of the rack. There's a message written in red paint smeared across its entirety.

Hope you don't mind, I touched up your project. -Z

I throw out my masterpiece and grab a new piece of paper, scribbling all over it to get my anger out. When I take a step back, I see that I created a giant ball with rings around it.

And, somehow, that's how I find inspiration for my new art project.

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[A/N] I updated, yay! Hope you like this chapter, the Battle of the Bands is coming in the next 10 or 15 chapters :)