All Just For a Scholarship

A Rather Mild War

In retrospect, I am pleased that I ditched that cocktail and refused every other alcoholic drink last night, for when I woke up, I walked past two stumbling Preps with hangovers so bad, I'd imagine being slammed face first into a wall by one of the Jocks would feel more like a pillow in comparison.
I had folded away those Aquaberry threads into a cupboard where they would probably be as lost as the Preps' dignity and donned a hoodie and school slacks. As I left my quarters, I bumped into a large white canvas.

Canvas?

I looked up, my eyes widened at the sight of the bulky ginger giant, it could not have been? Could it?
"Limey escapes Russell last time, but Russell beat you this time!" the behemoth roared, I tried to intervene him with a question, "R-Russell, how did you get out of prison?"
Russell straightened himself, "Mom bought Russell out, Russell promised Mom to get good grades." He confessed, so his mother got bail for him in return to get good grades. I'd imagine that he was not a scholar by any means thus I know what he would do; beat up Nerds to do his work.
Russell slouched as he sighed, "Weakling is excluded too, so Russell can't get him to do work." Poor man, though very near every single encounter was followed by a fight, I still felt sorry for him.
I sparked an idea, "Hold on Russell, I have an idea. You need Earnest to get your school work done am I right?" Russell nodded slowly, "Well, what if I could get Earnest back?"
Russell lowered himself to my level "Lime get weakling back for Russell? Russell likes!" he smiled, the idea of him getting through school without another problem seemed to get him in ecstasy.
I nodded, "Ok, you just meet me later after afternoon classes at the library; I'll tell you the plan then." Russell straightened back up, pounded his chest once and marched away, an evident spring in his step.

I headed to the main building, Music is next...riveting. Now don't get me wrong, I have nothing against music, I am quite the connoisseur of some classical. My problem is when you are stuck in an isolated room with twenty or so other novice musicians, it is not music...it is noise.
Entering the music class, I saw Ms. Peters, a rather hefty woman with a psychedelic shirt thing on and appeared to have been on African descent.
"Ah, why hello Mr. Daniels. I'm Ms Peters and I hope you shall enjoy time in music class." She sang, a smile on her face with a hand pointing to the nearest keyboard. I walked to it and sat down, peering at the music book. "Now class, today I would like everyone to play "Ode to Joy", page 12 in your books. When everyone is ready, I'll say begin and you'll, well, begin.
I flicked through the pages till I reached Ode to Joy. Seemed simple enough, I wasn't a master musician or a spectacular pianist, but I was competent with the keyboard back in St. Connors (until I dropped music in second year that is). Ms Peters cleared her throat and hollered, "Begin!"

Under this command a rupture of noise emitted from the instruments behind me, despite such distractions I played the piano, the ebony and ivory sang to my touch as I followed the sheet, the notes dancing across the lines as I played.
Eventually, the trail halted, Ms Peters bellowed us to stop and the cries of war died away. Oh what a blessing to hear silence once more I pondered, Ms Peters then announced, "I am so proud of you class, today we have made one step closer actually making it sound like music than we have ever had before!"
If I were to ever be blessed with one thing, please let it be that I will never hear what the norm of this classroom was once. The school bell tolled and once again, the students spread for the exits.

I began my stroll back to my dorm, suddenly my vision blurred before me and the sudden aroma of random men's deodorant flooded my nasal passages. Oh goody, the prefect's is restraining me, what now?
As soon as one can say, "Let go of me at once!" I felt an eruption of agony across my midriff as hefty boots rocket into them. I looked upon the suspect, it was an aggravated Adriana.
"You dare crush my chances of school presidency with that photograph, I should have you expelled for that!" she hissed, as my temples grew numb and lost the sensation on being crushed between a prefect's ribcage and arm, I smirked "Well why don't you do it? Oh yeah, you need a reason don't you? That's ok, just string some previous offense I did and you can- oh wait...you can't!" I mocked, Adriana, scowling like a violent animal nodded to my restraint, who promptly threw my head back, allowing him to collar me and punch me into a closed locker. Adriana withdrew some kind of sports model slingshot and pulled the band back, loading the weapon and pointing it to my face.
She hissed, "I may not be school president, but I sure as hell am still Head Girl, and when I catch you out of line, I swear I shall have you tossed out of Bullworth even if I must do it myself!" she pulled down the weapon and fired it into my leg, the sting enflamed greatly, I began hissing in agony as a result. "You got that?" Adriana concluded, as I began to nod, the prefect socked my jaw and walked off with Adriana.
I slid down until I was practically sitting on the floor of the school, I can't recall the time that passed though I doubt it was all that long seeing as the bell had yet to ring. Despite many people passing, only one came to my aid, it was the pink haired angel herself.
"Oh my God! John, what happened to you?" Erica gasped, as she scrambled to lift me to my feet, though the pain still left me a little ditzy, I was still able to stand. I mumbled, "...Adriana..." Erica displayed an expression of complete bewilderment, she repeated, "What happened to you John?"
I gently shoved myself off the wall as I attempted to straighten myself; I cleared my throat and stated, "Adriana and one of her little comrades said hi." I have yet to comprehend why I thought to attempt some humour and I doubt I ever will.
Erica lead me down the hall and began to take me out the building as she stated, "Don't worry John, I'll clean you up."

Despite the interval, our escape up to Erica's room proved unchallenged, granted one did have to climb up the vine ladder, but never the less, our journey had no problems. I sat on the wooden chair as Erica dabbed my cuts with a cotton bud and some medical stuff she mentioned that I failed to remember, as she did so, a cat began to circle around my legs, I peered down to identify it. "So who is the cat Erica?" I asked.
Erica glanced at the cat before turning straight back to my wounds, "Oh, that's my new pet. I called him Kurokai." She smiled; I patted the feline as he meowed at my touch. I looked back up to Erica and observed her hair "Hey" I commented, "Isn't your hair a little bit...brighter than usual?"
Erica sighed, "Yeah, I tried dying my hair again and I got the wrong shade. Still, I guess the real victim is Pinky, it was her gloves that got horribly stained!" I chuckled at the idea of Pinky screaming at the fact her 8.7 quadrillion dollar gloves were spoiled by some "pauper".
It probably would have sounded something like her scream when she walked in the room at that moment. I was paralysed as I saw the prep shrieking all kinds of derogatory comments at me, pervert, sicko, pauper and some more that do not bear repeating.

I swept a kiss on Erica's cheek as I slipped past Pinky and scurried back into the attic area, or at least that is what I did after cleverly hiding in the attic's wardrobe. As I heard Pinky command authority to arrive and squeal over my presence, punctuated by Erica's objections, I also heard Mandy conversing with a friend of hers once again on her phone.
"Christy, this better be good news, because if it is another rumour of Ted sleeping with another girl in the school, I'll-"Mandy ranted, giving a pause to allow Christy to speak, "What? You are serious? No way, you mean it? Ted's meeting Johnny where now? New Coventry? Tomorrow? Alright, thanks Christy." Mandy ended.
As a woman scolds Pinky for dishonesty, I sneak away to the vine ladder, pondering over the news that was brought up.

A meeting between the Jock and Greaser leaders tomorrow huh? Something tells me that they are not going to be talking of diplomacy in any manner. What if Gary's there? If he sniffs this, those two cliques may never stop feuding. I drop to ground level as I return to my dorm.

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