First Kisses come in Seventh Grade 21

DON'T READ THIS do get you. In fact, they corner you in a brick wall surrounding. “Where you goin now you punk?” asked the one who you spit at. You get off your bike. You take your trombone case and swing around the heavy thing. The guys back off just a little. “Dude, she gotta weapon,” the skinny guy said. “So what, she’s a girl and she don’t know how to use it,” another one snaps. You were insulted. To prove yourself, you smack the one that you spit at. He fell over. “Whoa dude, looks like she don’t like you.” You hit anot. You didn’t let go. You were staring into cold steel eyes. You were getting mad. The guy was trying to take away the trombone case. An eig

Hey, good job on the race Fall asleep he bandaids you Siting on your breakfast Hit them with your trombone case, ryan got it Ever heard of deodorant? Save for littleI can’t believe it, she’s hurt herself and it’s like she doesn’t even know it. She’s going out there to stretch. She’s dragging me with her too. I had to smile to myself. Stubborn and dumb Erin. She gives me this scary stern look to pay attention. She does exactly every stretch that the girl Miranda is doing. I glance at her. How does she do it? She was

Created by: scumbag
  1. What is your age?
  2. What is your gender?
  1. “I don’t wanna,” he says. What was he playing at? “I’m asking if you know,” he says. “I do, but I won’t tell you until you attempt to look in your atlas,” you tell him. “Ok ok fine,” he says, “You’re not help,” he adds. You give him a threatening glare. He looks in his atlas. He’s holding a pen in his hand. He starts clicking it. You ignore it for the first thirty seconds. After that you were out of your mind, “QUIT IT!” He pretends to have just heard you, “huh?” “Cut it out,” you wail. “Cut out what?” he asks innocently continuing to click his pen. “Clicking your pen! Jeez, it’s annoying!” “Hey, it helps me concentrate better and plus it’s a HABIT. It’s not as weird as studying on CHAIRS,” said Ryan smirking at you. You hissed at him. A few long minutes of you giving him answers for his geography packet and lecturing him. You noticed that his fudge was untouched.
  2. “You don’t like that do you?” you ask him. “Don’t like what?” he asks. “My fudge.” “No, I like it,” he says. “No you don’t, you should be hungry after the run, but you’re not eating it. Here, I’ll get you something else.” You go into the kitchen and come back with a Betty Crocker chocolate chip cookie. “Here, it’s a classic” you say pushing the cookie towards him. “No, it’s okay, I do like It, see?” said Ryan. He stuffs the fudge in his mouth and goes, “mmm” You step back, not sure if you had won or lost. You go back to your math packet. The blade cuts your finger unexpectedly.
  3. “Sss ow!” you shout flicking your finger. Ryan looks down at you. He quick takes your finger, “You dummy, the ruler’s got a sharp edge…” He asks you where your band aids were. “It’s ok, just leave it,” you answer. You turn back to your homework. “And if I get you a band aid, you’d chop me to pieces with that ruler, right?” asked Ryan. “Yea, I probably will,” you warned. “Okay then, fine.” An awkward silence was left after that. You pretended to work madly on your packet, he’s doing whatever he’s doing. You didn’t like being alone with him. You wished your loud brothers were there or Rene. When it was just you and him, things got pretty awkward and you weren’t yourself.
  4. Your head was getting heavy. It was a very long day, you could still see all those people out there, all that hooting and cheering and whistling. The runners whizzing past you, you flying downhill and cheering for the other runners. It felt like a hippo was sitting on your eyelids, your eyelids kept drooping lower and lower until the lash lines met and wouldn’t open again except by your head hitting the metal chair. You quick wake up, hoping Ryan didn’t see and flip to the next page. You couldn’t help it. Your pencil was going all over the place. You were falling asleep…
  5. Your head jerks up. You look at the wall clock. You were asleep for… 30 minutes?! You look around the room. Ryan’s backpack was gone. Your homework was gone. There was a bandaid on your finger. And a black jacket over your shoulders… There was a note on the chair. It said: For the strange lady who studies on a chair, I copied your math and I filled out your geography packet. Trust me, geography’s easy. I was only pretending to bug you. Hey, I wanted to say Good Job on the cross country run today, I never did tell you that that did I? And Maximum Megatron, if you’ve noticed the band aid, don’t kill me yet. Because I have your trombone case! So if you want it, come pick it up tomorrow. Just kidding, you left it behind today at the meet, so I took it home. Can’t believe you slept through the whole study hour.
  6. You whip out your packets. The letters were small and neat. Ryan writes like a girl?! He got every answer on the geography packet. He even crossed out some of your answers. He wrote notes like: the capitol of Wisconsin is not Green Bay, it’s Madison you dummy. You page through and checked the answers briefly. And then a thought came to you, maybe he’s still here. You ran to the door. He was gone. You walk back to your chair. Your mum was just coming back. She had bought fudge. You take the jacket and quickly wrap it up and stuff it in your backpack.
  7. The next day you get on the bus early. Chris was riding again. But he didn’t see you. You decide to just hide in the front seats. You go to first hour. He wasn’t in his seat. Late probably. But he wasn’t. Mrs. Pearson marks him absent. He wasn’t there for any of your classes. You were getting worried. Yesterday he seemed just fine. What happened to him anyways? After school you say bye to Rene and ride the bus home. When you get home, you bike over to Ryan’s. You knock on the door. He opens it. He was wearing yesterday’s shirt and it was all sweaty. He didn’t look too good. “Hey,” he mumbled. “What are you here for?” You come up with something quick. “My trombone.”
  8. “Oh,” he says a little disappointed. You follow him inside. “Where’s your parents?” you ask him. “Gone to get me some medicine.” He leads you upstairs into his room. He gets back into bed. “There,” he says pointing to the trombone case under his desk. He coughs. “Why are you sick anyways?” you ask. He shrugs. And then suddenly it hits you. “It was my fudge wasn’t it?!” He shrugs again. “Well, why didn’t you say so?!” you snap at him. He looks up surprised at you. “Wow girl, you’re not even sorry.” “Well it was your own fault. You coulda told me,” you muttered. “Psh, whatever, I’m going to sleep. You can see that I can’t come over to your house to study.” He turns over. You watch him shiver and then slowly fall asleep. You go downstairs, grab a towel, soak it and go back upstairs to him. He was sleeping. You take the cool towel and drape it over his forehead. His eyes suddenly open and he grabs your wrist. Your heart jumps. “Ry-“ you start to say. “So… you do this to me and you won’t even let me touch a tiny cut on your finger. You are sorry for the fudge aren’t you?” he asks. Your heart was just beating. He was… cute? You snatch away from him. No, he wasn’t cute. You didn’t want to see him that way.
  9. He gives a little laugh. “Hey, stay over, will ya?” he asks. “Sure,” you mumble. He sits up. He takes out his math. “So, what the heck is seven to the eighth power,” he asks. You smiled. You spend a whole hour with him studying and finishing his math packet. He fell asleep again. You resoak the towel, drape it across his head again and pull his blanket up closer to his chin. You grab your trombone and was about to leave when you hear him say, “You really want me to come to school tomorrow, don’t you?” You turn around. “No, I hope you die,” you tell him. “You can’t stand not going through another day of pokes and hair tugging,” added Ryan. “You! No! Ugh, see at school tomorrow,” you grumble. He laughs.
  10. He gives a little laugh. “Hey, stay over, will ya?” he asks. “Sure,” you mumble. He sits up. He takes out his math. “So, what the heck is seven to the eighth power,” he asks. You smiled. You spend a whole hour with him studying and finishing his math packet. He fell asleep again. You resoak the towel, drape it across his head again and pull his blanket up closer to his chin. You grab your trombone and was about to leave when you hear him say, “You really want me to come to school tomorrow, don’t you?” You turn around. “No, I hope you die,” you tell him. “You can’t stand not going through another day of pokes and hair tugging,” added Ryan. “You! No! Ugh, see at school tomorrow,” you grumble. He laughs.
  11. You were biking with your trombone case. You were biking into an alley. That was a mistake. The guys from yesterday were there. They didn’t try to melt in. They came and surround you. There were five of them. They were the thugs in the back who rode your bus. You stopped your bike. They’re all grinning at you. You glare at them. “Hey, where you goin?” a guy asks behind you. “Yea girl, hang out with us for a while, eh?” They laugh. “Come with us,” said the one in front of you. “Move it,” you say clearly through gritted teeth. The circle just got tighter. You were looking down, biting on your tongue. A guy’s hand slips under your chin and lifts it up to his face. You let go of your tongue. You spit in his ugly face. He gives a shout and you charge forward with your bike marking and bruising two. You didn’t want to lead them to your home. So you changed alleys and they followed you darn well. They weren’t giving up. “Get her!” they shouted.
  12. They do get you. In fact, they corner you in a brick wall surrounding. “Where you goin now you punk?” asked the one who you spit at. You get off your bike. You take your trombone case and swing around the heavy thing. The guys back off just a little. “Dude, she gotta weapon,” the skinny guy said. “So what, she’s a girl and she don’t know how to use it,” another one snaps. You were insulted. To prove yourself, you smack the one that you spit at. He fell over. “Whoa dude, looks like she don’t like you.” You hit another one. It was unexpected and fast so he fell over too. “ANYONE ELSE?!” you shouted at them. The guys get up again. They take your trombone. You didn’t let go. You were staring into cold steel eyes. You were getting mad. The guy was trying to take away the trombone case. An eighth grader you guessed. He wasn’t going to let go either. Your foot snaps up. It would’ve hit his chin if his groiter wasn’t in the way. He yowled and screamed as you clock another one. They can’t touch you. You’d do anything to get out of the tight circle. And then suddenly one guy grabs you from the back and you see Chris running towards you, “STOP!”

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