Kal
I looked down at my almost finished set draft. It was perfect, all the lines exactly where they were supposed to be. Everything in scale. A week of obsessing and it was finally almost done. I hated set designing, especially first hour, but no on else wanted to design the set for As You Like It. Too many set changes, was the general complaint. So I took the job on as well as lighting. I wasn't complaining too much, though. It was a load of extra credit points. Satisfied that I'd done enough for the day, I pushed the papers to the edge of the drafting table, put my head down, and slept the rest of the thirty minutes of class away...
When I woke up I nearly screamed. My perfect draft was ruined. Big, neat letters filled the page in bright red marker. 'I don't like being elbowed. You owe me, Kalshan.' I looked up the rest of the class, incredulous.
"Really? You let him waltz in and ruin my set design?" I asked in a high pitched voice. Morgan managed to mostly hold back her laughter but a few stray giggles came out.
"He didn't tell us he was going to ruin it," she defended herself and the rest of the class. Fucking traitors.
"Now I have to remake it. By hand. Chris ruined the fucking machine!" Chris coughed and looked away. I balled up the draft sheet and threw it at them. Morgan managed to catch it.
"By lunch, I want a draft sheet prepared. We have a deadline, you know." I started walking out, then turned on them right before I closed the door. "Next time, ask exactly what the person with the red marker wants to write on my draft sheet."
I stomped my way to choir, black leather ankle boots clacking on the tile floor. There went my perfect grade. Not that I obsessed over my grades, or anything. But I prided myself on being able to do better than everyone else in whatever I did. This would put me back on my project a full week. I was going to get Greyson. Somehow. Meanwhile-
"Hi Brian," I greeted my friend too loudly. He groaned and grabbed his head.
"God. It's you." I grinned.
"Have a good time last night?" I asked, still too loud. Ahh, sweet revenge. Three weeks ago I'd been in the same position, and what had Brian done but yell in my ear all hour? It was my turn.
"Actually, yes. Until Monica got me fucking wasted." I laughed and Brian winced.
"Jesus, Kal. Could you, like, breathe quieter?" he croaked. I patted him on the back hard enough to jostle his head. He moaned slightly and I gave him a thousand-watt grin. Our teacher chose to play our music especially loud that day and Brian looked pained the entire time. Once again, ahh, sweet revenge. By the end of class, I figured he'd suffered enough, though, and gave him three Advil and an Odwalla juice I'd brought from home for this exact purpose.
"You're an angel," he told me, still in a rather rough voice. Before I could answer a deep voice, already becoming rather familiar, called out,
"Kal, buttercup." I turned, hissing under my breath,
"Mother fucker."
Grey
I would say ruining her project may have been over-kill, but I really didn't think it was. In fact, I thought it was perfect, as far avenging my bruised kidneys went, it was rather mild. Which was why, for the second half hour of English class (shudder) I tried to devise more ways of getting back at the exquisite Kalshan. I knew which car was hers, I could hire some random Freshman to go out and buy me eggs, silly string, and honey then sabotage the car. I was good at breaking and entering, I could probably even get her interior. But that was just momentary relief.
"So, do you like, get this?" I girl chewing bright pink bubble gum with bleach blonde hair and a chest that could not be natural leaned over and put her hand on my forearm, looking at my paper. When she leaned over a generous amount of cleavage showed. I leaned away, disgusted. I would never know why parents got their seventeen year old daughters implants. She just leaned with me. I put a finger against her forehead and pushed her away.
"I like my personal space, Monica. Stay out of it." She just giggled and settled herself into her seat. I let loose a small sigh of relief. Back to revenge: I could throw water balloons filled with soda at her from the roof. She was wearing a white shirt that day... but that would be more for my pleasure than revenge. Scratch that plan.
"So, what counts as personal space?" God! The ho was up on me again! What did it take? I ran my hands down her neck, to her collar bones, then shoved her off.
"Stay off me, you plastic ho," I snapped quiet enough for the teacher to not hear from the front of the class. I'd been subject to Monica's games since the beginning of the year. I was new to the high school. New, rich game. And she was a ho who was willing to put out for anyone. I was always up for girls who were willing to put out, but their assets had to be real. Fake didn't turn me on like the real thing. Like Kalshan. I grinned. The perfect revenge. And it went along with my plans exactly as it was.
Accounting 101 went by even slower than usual. I was itching to get to the Arts hall and to Kalshan. As soon as the bell rang I jumped from my seat and walked as fast as I could without looking like a freak to my desired area. Then I saw her, laughing.
"Kal, buttercup." Her face turned from amused to pissed and I saw her lips form the words, "mother fucker." It was on. Time to see how she played the game...
