Not So Sweet~ A Sillie Romance Story

PTM and animals and stuff

"Dude-"

"Anaconda!"

"What?"

"Swordfish!"

"Be realistic."

"Giraffe?"

"More realistic."

"Mountain Lion."

"That's not even realistic. I need something smaller."

"Snow leopard."

"Not a snow animal."

"Fennec fox."

"Herbivore?"

"Lamb?"

"Farm animal? Really?"

"I don't know what else to do!"

"How about a dog?"

"That's way more boring than a giraffe."

"What or who's dog am I supposed to use?"

"There's a shelter. I think we should go with Siberian Husky."

"Too energetic."

"Golden retriever?"

"Really?"

"Doberman Pincher."

"Not a fan."

"Great Pyrenees?"

"Smaller."

"French Bulldog."

"Are you even trying?"

"I have a friend who can borrow his Irish Setter."

"Well... okay."

"Wait, that's a 'yes'?"

"Yes."

"Awesome!" Caleb slapped me a hi-five and ran down the hallway.

"Wait, now?" I called out to him.

Without answering me, he kept running until he turned a corner and was out of sight.

"Caleb Reginald McLaughlin..." I whispered under my breath.

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~MILLIES POV~

The door of Mr Brightley's office was an ugly shade of concrete gray. When the door opened, it made a loud creaking noise.

Inside, there was a desk overflowing with papers and files. Behind the desk was a single brown chair and four filing cabinets, all left open. On the desk, there was a label; Ms Merry. Secretary. Ms Merry, however was nowhere to be seen.

There was another door. Unlike the other door, this one was more of a light brown and seemed way happier than the secretary's. In big white letters, it said MR BRIGHTLEY. Next to it, were 3 waiting chairs and a plastic plant on the ground. The door was left slightly open, and I could hear two voices inside.

(a/n Btw I just wanted to let you know I imagined Mr Brightly looks like James McAvoy dont ask why)

"Okay, Harry, what is chucking?"

"Throwing something."

"Yes, chucking is throwing something. But they don't exactly throw wood, do they? They just cut it up. So, woodchucks don't chuck wood."

"Of course, but, hypothetically, how much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood-"

"Uh... Mr Brightley?" I called, knocking on his office door.

The voices stopped. "Uh, yes, come in. Thank you, Shakeel."

A teacher walked out of Mr Brightley's office, giving me a polite smile as he left.

Mr Brightley's office was almost an entirely different place compared to the secretary's office. Ms Merry had gray walls with certificates pinned on them. Mr Brightley's walls were bright yellow and had shelves with all sorts of colorful books and a few spelling bee trophies. Ms Merry's office had one curtainless window in a corner. Mr Brightley had one huge window with white curtains attatched to it. His desk, I noticed was also very organized and had a calendar and a few stress toys.

Mr Brightly immediately recognized me and smiled. "Millie, right?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to ask-"

"Oh, wait." he got up from his desk and browsed through his bookshelf. He took a slip of paper out from the shelf and opened it. On the back, I noticed, was Mileven fan art. Ew.

He noticed my discomfort and turned the paper around. "Sorry about that. The Duffer Brothers gave me a list of things I can't talk about with you. I have trouble memorizing them, though, so I wrote them down here. Anyway..." he sat down at his desk again. "You were saying something?"

"Uh... I wanted to ask what we're supposed to do about PTM on Thursday? I highly doubt our parents want to know about our grades, and I assume the Duffers went over this with you at some point-"

"Yes, we did actually talk about this!" his eyes went over the paper. "You guys are going to school on Thursday, you're going to hang around for a few seconds, doing absolutely nothing - keeping out of trouble, hopefully - then you'll leave."

"Does it say how long we have to be there?"

"Half an hour, maybe."

I let out a short sigh and he laughed.

"You don't wanna wake up early and come to school for absolutely no reason on Thursday?"

"I don't know why we were thrown in school in the first place."

"Well, Matt and Ross said-"

"It's because we're shitty actors, I know."

He laughed again and he took a pencil out of a cup on his desk, which was filled with other colorful pencils. The cup was made out of clay and looked like it was painted by a five year old.

He glanced at the clay pot. "My daughter made it."

"It's... cute?"

"She's four."

"Makes sense."

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A/N

Hey guys I moved to another country!!!

Time zones are being a bicth, but other than that, I have completely settled AND I will be posting again:)