Ice Man

I walked to my seat and sat down, keeping my peripheral vision on the girl to the front left of my seat. She was one of the few people that had not stopped looking at me after I sat down. I smiled. This was a perfect opportunity to play one of my favorite games: Assassin. I casually turned towards the girl, and... boom. I locked eyes with the target. One gone. The girl maintained eye contact for a fraction of a second more and then disengaged. She was now embarassed and shrunk like a turtle into the armor of her desk and chair. I allowed myself a rare smile. It was fun. Kind of like a spy game. And, unlike other games, harmless. Attempt to obtain information about another without letting the other know. The next step was to move on to the next target. The next target was a quite intelligent character to my right. But, you couldn't get trigger happy. This was what I called rechambering. In essence, it was just waiting around like an idiot until you felt like you had waited long enough. Then, you fired again. So, right about... now. Pew. Gotcha. My target smiled and gave me a thumbs up. I nodded in return. I had worked with the guy before and regarded him with respect. He was another of the quiet ones. Less quiet, perhaps less smart. Nevertheless, he approved of me kicking that guy's ass. Oh-what happened to that guy's ass? I suddenly remembered who I gave an ass-kicking to. The trendy kid was on the black yet multi-colored floor, adding additional colors to the floor's inventory. A few of the more queasy students began to leave the room once the fumes meandered to the other side of the room. Interestingly enough, the school nurse-and the teacher-were already perched over the sickly student. That was a godly response time, truly. Hell, that could rival the EMT. Likely because of the kid's popularity. Or...the network that all of the popular kids spoke through. As I turned back towards the front, I imagined myself as some hero in a movie, just after spinning back around in a swivel chair, just after eliminating some major terrorist. One bye. I wondered if his kids would suffer. I eased the mien of guilt after trying to come up with who the hell who want him inside. I snapped back to reality with the forceful voice of the school nurse. "Who was it?! WHO WAS IT?!" Apparently, between retches, the trendy kid was able to point a finger up at me. The school nurse, with the traditional ignorance of a school staff member, began yelling at me. Her vocabulary was as equally impressive, as she uttered the same aforemetioned phrase over and over again. "Me", I began, but was drowned out by the incessant screaming. "But, but, BUT..." I struggled against the onslaught of words. "YOU DON'T KNOW THE WHOLE STORY", I managed, rapping my hands against the desk at points of emphasis. When I finally got the crazy woman to quiet down I could explain. "Who saw him attack me first?" I questioned the room. Everyone in the room put up their hand. "Case closed.", I said flatly. "Look at the cameras." The nurse took my peace offering and burned it in front of me. "We'll see. Oh, we'll see. Thats for damn sure." "Fuck off", I muttered, as I followed the entourage down to the office. Thankfully, I was able to keep my cool throughout the very thorough and careful 2 minute investigation. The security camera feed backed up my statements, and the school actually acknowledged the fact that this was clean-cut self-defense. By checking my watch I figured out that all of this took up half of the class period. Convenient. With all the cooling down that the teacher had to do combined with the cleaning up of the classroom, we would not have any time to actually do classwork. Trendy Kid remained in the sick room of the office with the nurse, while the clearly exhausted teacher and I made our way back to the classroom. All the other students had vacated the classroom for the janitor to clean up Trendy Kid's purged breakfast. I noticed that a girl had been nice enough to take my backpack and folder out of the classroom for me. As I took my items back, I made eye contact with her for a half second. Blonde, blue eyes. Quite pretty. "Thanks," I said, in a cheerier tone than usual. "Sure. Nice kick," she replied. I smiled in reply to her compliment. I figured I would exploit this unusual female interaction. "Come on," I said, motioning for her to follow. "We've got a worksheet to finish." She gave a small smile and followed. "Usually when people say those first three words they are followed by something a bit more interesting," she remarked. Intelligent. "Unfortunately, we don't have any interesting things to work on," I stated. The school bell interrupted our conversation, and it broke the levee that held the sea of students in the classrooms. "I'll walk you to Gronan's." she said. Puzzled, I looked at her. "All the other teachers in the hallway that you walk to teach older students," she explained. I caught up to her, and as I closed the distance a Trendy Kid friend stepped out from behind a locker. He wielded a three-hole-puncher. My girl friend came out of nowhere and landed a punch to the gut on TK's friend. He fell to the ground and vainly tried to get air back into his lungs. The girl grabbed my arm and pulled me into the sea of people heading to Mr. Gronan's class. "Nice punch," I said thankfully. "You're welcome," she said, smirking. "See you around. And smile, Ice Man." She gave me a small shove, which was enough to get me out of the highwaylike throng of people and into the hallway in which Mr. Gronan's room was. I looked back, smiled, did a perfect parade ground about-face, and walked to Mr. Gronan's classroom. Chemistry.