Just Kidding, But Seriously...

Oppa Frogman Style

A/N- Yeah the science experiment with the rainbow is totally made up lol, don't try that at home, kids. God knows what kind of crazy shit will happen. Enjoy!

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"This right here-" Mr. Lennon held up a metal object that looked like something I'd find in Mel's cabinet in our bathroom "-is a pair of tweezers. Girls, don't pluck your eyebrows with this."

I knew it

"And this," he added, holding some other silvery spoon-like object in his upraised hand from where he stood at the front of the class, "is a spatula. And no, you cannot flip burgers with it."

What about eggs? I found myself wanting to burst out questionably, but I held my tongue back. Gwen was in this class. I didn't need to degrade myself in front of her any more than I already had.

"Finally this," my biology teacher added, placing the pair of tweezers down on a slim silver lab tray in exchange for a pointed instrument that looked like the perfect murder weapon, "is a scalpel."

Found one, I thought. Time to put an end to this self-deprecating era of public humiliation

I wasn't exactly contemplating suicide, but after what had happened just minutes before during lunch, I was at the brink of driving that scalpel thingy right through my heart and calling it a day. See, my mind had this nasty habit of constantly replaying some of my most embarrassing moments against my own will. And as I sat at my shared desk with Werner Glass at my side as my crippled (his casted arm was currently being cradled by a sling) lab partner, I found myself focusing more on what happened during lunch than on the instructions my teacher was dishing out on how to dissect a frog.

Luke and I had been making our way to our hangout area with our trays of spaghetti (the lunch lady was totally out to get me and my poor stomach). Once we rounded the corner, we caught sight of Annemarie, Raymond (he and Scarlett still were not on good terms) and Gwen engaged in deep conversation a few yards away. My feet suddenly became heavy at the sight of Gwen, and my pace slowed down so that it could have been easily compared to that of a snail. I was hit with that familiar wave of nausea, accompanied with queasy stomach sensations and the sprouting of beaded sweat at my hairline. My tongue suddenly became nothing but a fat piece of muscle lodged in my mouth as it dried up and left me completely incapable of uttering a word. I had no idea what to say-I was expecting Raymond to provide me with a step-by-step manual on how to give a girl flowers. Surely those existed, right?

"You look like you smell a fart," Luke commented, whiffing the air like a rat smelling cheese. "It wasn't me, I swear."

I sighed, tightening my grip on the bouquet of flowers as if doing so would empower me with a burst of courage. "I'm such a pussy."

"That, I know." Luke snorted. "I thought she was 'just Gwen-the girl you've known since middle school?' What's the big deal? They're just flowers, and Gwen is just a girl."

"Do you want to give them to her for me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey," Luke adopted a scolding edge to his words, knitting his brows and jabbing a stubby finger at me, "this is the girl that you want, not me. I prefer the tall, skinny blonde ones, anyway."

And everyone would be surprised to learn that Luke did indeed get the tall, skinny, blonde ones. They also tended to be over the age of eighteen.

I should be a nerd, I thought. Girls would be clinging to my arms like leeches. I frowned to myself and added considerably, well, except hotter, of course.