White Paint, White Crayons and White Concrete

Chapter 2

Guess what Darius was doing next?

I'll give you a hint. He was wearing sweat bands on his wrist and forehead, and his microscopic biceps were numb.

That's right! He was labouring away in the kitchen!

And complaining, of course, but that was a given.

Shouldn't SHE should be doing this for HIM?

How outrageous!

"I'll show her... I'm the best chance she has," he fumed, mixing cake batter with a hairbrush.

Jerica could hear every word, but she was a little bit busy on her phone, trying to contact her 'best friend.'

After pouring a bottle of vanilla extract into the mixture, he shoved it into the oven. By 'oven,' I of course mean a really hot gaming console.
Somehow, like the Block Craft addict he was (he couldn't afford Minecraft), he managed to move his console into the bunker, but forgot probably one of the most important things to bring into a bunker.

A table.

But, surely that doesn't matter. They ate on the floor.
And he had chairs, so surely it was fine. Well, stools. Well, boxes.

Next, our forlorn friend grabbed Jerica's book and dropped it into a can of white paint, splashing it everywhere, getting it into his hair. He then grabbed his crayons and wrote on the now white front cover, "Darius x Jerica" and drew some '^_^s,' '*-*s,' 'OwOs,' and 'UwUs,' all over the front cover with a white crayon. Yes, you read that right.

He laboured away for minutes, writing poems, songs, and even illustrating his point with (almost nearly halfway to a fifth of the way there) perfectly straight stick figures.

But I'm sure you're already aware, dear readers, that straight stick men could never represent Jerica accurately.

However, Darius was not aware of that. So, congratulations! You're already smarter than our lovely loser. Give yourself a pat on the back.
And back to the story.

"Jerica, come here! I have a present for you!" Darius called.

Jerica turned to Darius, but knew better than to 'come here,' so she kept a safe distance.

Darius, not taking the hint, walked over to her and handed her the book.

Jerica's eyes widened. "What is this? And where'd you get the-,"

"Turn to page 3," he instructed, producing a poorly maintained guitar with 3 1/2 out of six strings. It was such an unremarkable guitar that I couldn't tell you whether it was a classical, acoustic, electric or bass guitar. It was just a guitar. It's also worth mentioning that he made it himself, so that would add to the unremarkable mess of such an instrument. Don't ask what it was made out of. You don't want to know.

Jerica, of course very irritated that he had ruined her book, but not too annoyed because she'd read that thing eight times or so in the past few days and was getting bored, turned to page three. Of course, there were two page threes, and no page one, and everything was written in white, but she just decided to figure it out. However, she still Jerica went back to being annoyed.

Darius attempted to tune the guitar, but his tone-deafness will become very apparent in the next thirty or so words.

"There's a girl named JERICA," he began, and I refuse to call the noises he just made 'singing,' so let's just call it 'failed rizzless moaning noises,' but anyway, in that moment, Jerica wished she could become a zombie, because at least she wouldn't have to put up with this... human-resembling creature.

She began to wonder if he was the first ever zombie, and if he'd spread it to his classmates through his unsolicited 'rough-play,' prompting the teachers to ignore it and to just 'let kids be kids!'

"Who lives with me in my underground BUNKER," he continued.

"The meter and rhyme scheme of this song certainly isn't appalling," Jerica mumbled, staring at the indents of the insultingly accurate drawing of her face which Darius had so kindly spent thirty seconds on.

I'll take this opportunity to mention a crucial flaw in Darius' plan: he was closing his eyes the entire time. I imagine you can guess where this is going.

"Best friends with a-"

It's a good thing that Jerica had left the room by now, because if I were to tell you the only word he could find to rhyme with 'Jerica,' I would be cancelled. Let's just say that Darius didn't have access to the internet, because believe me, if he did, this would be a complete s***show, if it isn't already.

I'll give you a hint: It's in the name 'Veronica.'

(To all my readers named Veronica, I'm sure this isn't the first time you've heard this joke, but if it is, sorry not sorry.)

Once he had finished his two-couplet song, Darius opened his eyes and finally realised that Jerica had left the chat.

So, to piss her off, he ate his 'cake' all by himself.

It didn't piss her off. In fact, it saved her life.