Girls Will Be Boys When Pigs Fly

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

I shut my locker door, staring at Tofu. Fourth period had just finished.

“Is the some sort of creepy and or planned coincidence?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Must be, because not only are our lockers next to each other,” he said grabbing my schedule out of my hands, “we have our next three classes together.”

I snatched my schedule from him,

“What? Really?” I looked over the schedule. My last two classes of the day were advanced Japanese and then Drama and finally gym. I looked at him.

“You take advanced Japanese and drama?” I questioned, disbelievingly. He shrugged.

“Yeah, I started learning Japanese when I was in middle school, so they bumped me up to the advanced classes,”  he replied casually. I eyed him.

“Okay . . . but drama?” I asked, my eyebrows still set near my hairline.

“What? You’re taking it,” he pointed out.

“Well, yeah, but your . . .  different,” I said.

“How so?” His eyebrows had risen as well.

“You’re just, you know, all  . . . manly,” I said tentatively. He barked out a laugh.

“Thanks, I guess? You do know that the majority of the plays written have “manly” main characters, right?” he asked skeptically. “I also hope realize that you just called yourself un-manly . . .”

I scratched the back of my neck, trying to brush off my mistake.

“Whatever. I still think it’s weird . . .”

He rolled his eyes.

“Come on, we have a class to get to squirt.”

I gaped at him. He laughed at my expression.

“What?” he asked, hiding a smirk.

“Squirt?” I asked, outraged.

“Hey, you gave me a nickname, I can’t give you one?”

“Not squirt,” I replied furiously.

“Ah, come on, it suits you,” he cooed, giving me a villainess smile. I scowled at him and stomped by him.

“Drama Queen,” he muttered. I spun on my heel.

“What did you call me?” I snapped, narrowing my eyes.

“Nothing! Nothing at all . . .” he sung, almost fake whistling. I gave him my snarkiest look and kept walking.

The class wasn’t huge, maybe 20 other students maximum. I took an empty seat in the back. I watched as Tofu settled into the seat next to mine. I glared at him.

“Are you trying to look like a stalker?” I growled, pursing my lips. He smirked.

“This is my assigned seat,” he explained, the smug look still on his face. I curled my lip and pulled out the tablet I had been given in my first period. Tofu gawked at me, the expression freezing me on spot.

“How did you get a tablet?! We aren’t supposed to get them until we are seniors!” he exclaimed. I felt my lips tighten and shrink into my mouth.

“Umm . . . I’m not sure. They just gave me one . . .” I lied quickly. It was because all my primary classes were for seniors. He eyed me suspiciously, but seemed to believe me after I gave him my best look of surprise and confusion.