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Monday, December 10, 2001 ( 4:27 AM ) shut up christine “OH CRRAAAAPPP! I’m late I’m late I’m late I’m late!” Christine mumbled as she ran to her first class of the new quarter – Native American Sand Art 101. She burst through the door of the lecture hall and scanned the room for an empty seat, spying one close to the front. “Is this seat taken?” “No,” squeaked a voice from the next seat over. “Thank goodness,” she whispered with a sigh of relief as she plopped down. “I’m Christi…..” she stopped mid-sentence when she finally got a good look at the person speaking. He was wearing a red polka-dot bowtie. “My name’s Christine. What’s yours?” “Uhh…my name *squeak* is Jonas,” the boy shyly answered. “Hi Jonas. Did I miss anything important?” “Uhh, not really. Don’t worry about it…you can see my notes later if you want,” he blushed. Christine smiled at Jonas’ shy mannerisms and his genuine nice-ness. And he was wearing a bowtie. Christine loves bowties. While the professor rambled on about the various types of glue used in sand paintings, Christine used her peripheral vision to study the guy sitting next to her. He was a geeky-looking white boy…loafers, too-short khakis, disheveled hair, an argyle sweater, and a red polka-dot bowtie, bless his little heart. Christine felt her own heart skip a beat when she saw his backpack – it was large and rectangular… the kind with a retractable handle……..and wheels. Wow. Christine snapped back into reality at the sound of her professor’s booming voice. “Now pair up with a partner! We will begin our first project at once!” Immediately Christine turned to Jonas and asked, “Wanna be my partner?” “Sure,” he said quietly. Halfway into the project, Christine had had enough. “I….can’t….do….this. It’s just….too…..hard! I’ll never pass this class!” Christine tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, but only succeeded in getting colored sand all over her face. “Awww, don’t worry.” Jonas shuffled his feet and stared at the ground. “I’ll….I’ll help you,” he said as he brushed some of the sand off her nose. He took her palm into his, sprinkled some red sand into it, and then slowly guided it along the glue-covered paper. Jonas’ face was thisclose to Christine’s, and she could smell his scent…the smell of sweet strawberries in the summertime. * super corny scene, kinda like the pottery-making scene in the movie Ghost…but instead of clay, there was sand* “That’s all for today, class! See you next week!” boomed the professor. The porn music playing in Christine’s head was cut short. Damn it. “Geez louise, our professor’s voice is sooo loud. I’ll be deaf by the end of the quarter,” Christine muttered as she packed up her stuff to leave. “Yeah, if it’s too loud, turn it down” Jonas said. “Wait, what did you just say?” Christine gasped. “I…I just said…if it’s too loud…….” “……..turn it down,” Christine whispered, finishing his sentence for him. (BGs…you don’t understand this last part, do you? DO YOU?! Have I not taught you anything? Ask me about it later.) Without another word, Jonas reached out and held Christine’s hand…and the two frolicked in the rain. THE END. #
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