“Floowrencee” Mr. Doolittle mumbled.
“Here,” Florence replied. She spotted Adam from across the room, tapping his pencil in one hand and twirling his hair in the other. He’s too beautiful, she thought with a sigh. As Adam cocked his head, and turned to her slowly, Florence felt her heart drop. So she quickly directed her eyes to the board. When she dared to peek at Adam again, he was staring down at his paper with a look of pure boredom. Florence sighed in relief, smiling to herself. If she had been paying more attention, she would have noticed the chuckle from Macy.
“Okay class, I know all of you were paying attention when I was discussing your class project,” Mr. Doolittle said. These words caused the class to suddenly pay attention. “Yes, the project,” Mr. Doolittle continued, “Now, I’m going to put you in partners. Chris and Macy, Brittany and Alison, Maybel and Matt…” I hoped silently that Mr. Doolittle would find it in his heart to pair me with Adam. “Jason and Courtney, Tyler and Katelyn, and…” Mr. Doolittle squinted at his sheet. “It seems we have an uneven number in class. Florence, Adam, and Tristan, I’d let you be a group of three, but that’s against the rules of this assignment. Adam, since you’re new, you can choose your partner, and the leftover can work by themselves.” Florence’s heart skipped a beat. Tristan’s a creepy kid, flamboyant almost, Florence thought, Adam’s seen him in his other classes, he’ll definitely pick me. “Adam, who do you pick?” Mr. Doolittle questioned. “Tristan,” Adam replied, moving his stuff over to his new partner’s desk. “I guess you’re by yourself, Florence,” he grunted.
<><><>
Lunch time was always a frenzy of confusion. Kids walking to and fro, little plastic trays covered in sickly smelling cafeteria food. Viewing the room, she instantly spotted Adam. He was being swarmed by Courtney and Maybel, who were practically fighting over him. Florence sighed, and sat in her usual seat by the window, in between the pop machine and the garbage. It was two minutes later when Witsy showed up. “Hi.” She replied. Her nose started running, and she wiped her nose on her sleeve. Florence was Witsy’s back up friend, and she’d been stuck with Witsy since Pre-k when Jenna Flynn pushed her into the mud, scarring her with the name of Poo-poo-pants. Florence figured that one of these days, soon, everyone would realize how great she was, and Witsy could be forgotten. “Hi.” Florence replied, her gaze shifting to Maybel’s cheerful face. “That should be me!” Florence grumbled. “What?” Witsy said, sniffling in.
Florence decided to trust Witsy. “Adam Jameson,” Florence sighed happily, pointing over to his table. Witsy’s face had a confused expression. “Adam, isn’t he that new gay kid that just moved here from San Francisco?” Florence spat out, “Why would you make fun of the new kid like that? I bet he hasn’t even talked to you!” “Well no, I haven’t talked to him,” Witsy mumbled, sniffling a little, “but he was talking to Jacob Carson during math, and some of the things they said made my allergies act up a little extra, you know. Plus, I thought it was obvious.” “Witsy, you just want him to yourself. Well, I’m not falling for that little trick,” Florence spat out.
Angrily, Florence stood up, and tossed her trash in the garbage can beside her. “Where are you going?” Witsy asked. “I’m gonna prove to you he isn’t gay! Why would Adam be gay?” Florence stammered. She marched right towards Adam’s table, and set herself down. Courtney and Maybel instantly looked up, and Adam blinked in reply. “Hello, Adam.” Florence said. She shifted uncomfortably beneath the heavy gaze of the trio. “Uh…hi.” He replied. “How are you?” Florence batted her eyelashes flirtatiously. “Uhmm…good,” His voice sounded like a question. Florence pressed her hand to his shoulder, smiling brightly. “That’s good.” She whispered. “Are you alright? Is there something in your eye?” He asked. The other two girls snickered, covering their giggles. “I’m fine. I am.” Florence said, flicking back her hair. She did it again, and the crack of her neck could be heard. “Did you throw out your neck?” Adam said. He didn’t seemed concerned, just forced respect. Florence sighed, and sat back down beside Witsy. “Gay?” She questioned. “No. He pretty much loves me.”
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