The Haunted School
You decide that there is no time like the present. Turning to your right, you say to the person next to you, a short, round boy with khaki shorts and a tucked in red polo shirt, " Hey, how's it going?"
He looks up at you, faintly hostile, though you have never seen him before. "What is that supposed to mean?" He asks, bunching up his fists, starting to shift back and forth on his feet. "I didn't ask to be here," he says.
You put your hands up as a sign of surrender. "OK," you say. "Never mind."
You look to your left, where a willowy, blue haired girl wearing an ancient concert T-shirt featuring some angry looking band that you have never heard of is struggling with her overnight bag. She says, "Don't worry about Angry Aaron. He doesn't like anybody."
"He is a hostile little thing," you say under your breath.
He looks up at you, faintly hostile, though you have never seen him before. "What is that supposed to mean?" He asks, bunching up his fists, starting to shift back and forth on his feet. "I didn't ask to be here," he says.
You put your hands up as a sign of surrender. "OK," you say. "Never mind."
You look to your left, where a willowy, blue haired girl wearing an ancient concert T-shirt featuring some angry looking band that you have never heard of is struggling with her overnight bag. She says, "Don't worry about Angry Aaron. He doesn't like anybody."
"He is a hostile little thing," you say under your breath.