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You know what I have been doing for the past two periods? Making doilies. And apparently, they are ‘pineapple’ doilies, but mine looks more like deranged triangle.

What makes things so much worse is that there is this stupid girl sitting at the other side of the class twittering and whining her little head off, I mean sure, she was pretty. But you know, it was kind of ruined by the fact she could never keep her damn mouth shut.

“And you know, Nicola,” the pretty black haired girl twittered to some poor girl who was sitting in front of her “You should really learn some taste, no wonder you’re such a loser. And, uh, by the way, you are doing the wrong design.”

“It’s Ni-cole-ah not Nic-o-lah, and I already finished my other design.” Was Nicola’s cold response “I finished it ages ago, Evans.”

Evans? Now why did that sound so familiar? Well, whoever this girl is, she needs to be told. To shut up, I mean.

‘Well aren’t you a little miss goody-two-shoes Nicola-”

“Just because you can’t sew for crap yourself, harpy.” I said icily “Why don’t you just shut the hell up? Your voice is really starting to get on my nerves.”

A hush went through the class and even the teacher looked kind of stunned, all was quiet except miniscule noises of people accidentally stabbing themselves with a crochet hook.

“What,” hissed the black haired girl scathingly “Did you say to me? Do you know who I am?”

“Bing!” I tapped the table as if it were a game show and drawled “A voluptuous girl with boobs instead of brains? I guess some people can’t have both now can we? I pity your misfortune.”

A whole lot of sniggers broke out in the class, from the people who are adjoined to The Dark Side, of course. But still, humour appreciation was humour appreciation, and who cares about reputation anyway? God, it’s highschool, people will get over it.

“I am Savannah Evans,” she hissed slamming a fist on the table to silence people, which didn’t work “My Mum is a very important TV journalist and my Daddy works for a law firm-what are you doing?”

“Praying to God you’re just a figment of imagination,” I shrugged “I guess it didn’t work, you’re still here and from the looks of it I’m not imagining you, darn shame.”

Savannah made an indignant noise and threw down her doily “Why you little I should-” she said some words I will refrain from repeating.

The bell rang throughout the classroom and I picked up my stuff “Sorry Savannah, nice chatting to you but-I have better things to do.”

You could just hear the screams as I walked out of the classroom, oh and not to mention the laughter.

Someone caught up to me and yet again I felt like someone was trying to detach my arm, seriously, what is with that? “Um, I think I need that.”

“What?” I breathed a sigh of relief; it was Nicola, no arm disinfection needed.

“My arm,” I offered lifting it up with a shrug “I need it, you know, slapping people, writing rude slogans, pulling up my pants...those kinds of things.”

“Oh,” Nicola dropped it and offered a meek apologetic smile “Sorry, just had to get your attention, that was brilliant by the way.”

...

Her? They must mean Savannah; I mean she is the leader of the opposition, but what more can you say about her? She’s pretty, has a big bust and...Well that’s just about as deep as she gets, unless you count the female dog factor.

Though I totally think it’s unfair that female dogs get a bad reputation because of a bunch of Savannah-alike people. I mean my dog, Elaine, is a totally fine representation for her species and gender. She never has to be scolded for peeing on the carpet, or people’s heads for that matter.