Take Note

"Pre-Calc notes..." I mumbled, scrounging around in the landfill I'd created in the bottom of my locker throughout the school year. Although my room at home was neat as a pin, at school it was another story, constantly cluttered. Right before math class was no exception, certainly no convenience.

"Great," I noticed the time on my watch: two minutes left in the lunch period. Sighing, I squatted down on the balls of my feet and reached my hand out to my locker. Good thing it wasn't inside it though, someone came up behind me and slammed it shut.

"What the-" I quickly turned my head over my left shoulder, nearly loosing my balance. As I placed my hand on the cool, hard tiles on the floor, I glanced up to see the widest grin on a familiar face.

"Hey," the most comforting male voice I've ever heard spoke down on me.

"Zac!" I exclaimed.

"I need to get my notes before class." I frowned, pointing at my now shut locker. It was an old gag of his, something I was afraid he'd never get tiring of pulling on me.

"Sorry Linds," his grin widened.

"Somehow I doubt that," I returned the smile and grabbed the blue notebook under his arm. "I'll just use yours instead."

"No way!" he clung to it tightly. "We have a quiz today."

"Great," I spun around and fumbled with my locker combination. It always worked on every third try, for some odd reason.

"One.. two.. three times the charm." I laughed as Zac read my mind. I jerked open my locker after the third attempt.

"Now don't shut it this time!" I scolded him, pointing at his face with my index finger. He held up his hands in defense. After glancing around the inside of my locker again, I caught sight of a small red triangle sticking out of a pile of textbooks.

Aha, finally. I thought, grabbing the cover and tugging gently on it. The whole stack of books collapsed into the hallway. I groaned, this wasn't my day.

"Move your butt, slow-poke," Zac warned me of the ever decreasing time to next period by nudging my butt with his toe. I heard him sigh impatiently behind me.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," I rushed, shoving as many books into my locker as I could. They landed with a crash in a jumbled pile.

"Good enough."

"We've only got thirty seconds. I can't afford to be late again; I'll get a detention." The look on his face made me realize what he'd propose next. I sighed, clutching my notebook to my chest.

"All right.. race you to Metzner's?"

"Exactly." With that word, we both took off and scrambled down the hall to the math classrooms. I couldn't contain my giggles, late or not this was kind of fun, tearing around the school. Zac was the greatest friend I'd ever had- I'd do anything for the guy. I've felt this way ever since the day I met him at the local day care center. Since day one together, we've been nearly inseparable. Today was no exception: we burst into room 219 together right as the bell rang for class to begin.

"Nice going guys," JoAnn whispered to us as we slid into the seats behind her. She grinned, tapping her watch.

"Thanks," I puffed, tired from the running.

"No talking!" Mr. Metzer barked loudly. Thirty-one heads snapped to attention. I sighed inwardly and took a pencil out of my backpack.

"Quiz is thirty points. If you did the homework, you should do fine," he continued as he passed out piles of the quiz to each person at the front of the row. The shuffling of papers proceeded throughout my row until one lonely little test found its way to my desk. I glanced over it briefly.

Predictable Metzner. I smiled widely and picked up my pencil, ready for action.

"Oh, man that was terrible," Zac complained to me as we collected our stuff to leave.

"The quiz?" I asked, standing up and stuffing my textbook into my backpack.

"Yeah," he replied sullenly.

"Don't forget to get your quizzes before you leave," Mr. Metzner said harshly. How on earth he'd managed to grade all of them during the fifteen minutes he'd given us to work on book problems surprised me. I, unlike my partner in crime, didn't have much to worry about: math had always come easily to me.

"Yea!" I cheered sarcastically when I picked up my quiz. The bold '20/20' scrawled in red ink near my name at the top made all my rushing into class worth it.

"Don't rub it in," Zac sighed and revealed another C- in his grasp. I smiled sympathetically at him.

"Hey, average of the two," JoAnn grinned at her own results. "B's good enough for me."

"Helps if you study Zac," I joked as the three of us walked down the hall, Zac sandwiched between us girls.

"I know." he replied, sighing.

"Helps if you take notes too." I wasn't going to let him off easy; I never did. I caught a knowing smile from JoAnn looking around him at me; she knew how much I loved to tease Zac about his lack of academic habits.

"I know."

"Also helps if you stay awake in class."

"I know- hey!" He caught himself. "I pay attention. I can't help it Metzner's so god-awfully boring. He'd put my dead grandmother to sleep. I'm sure he's making all those famous mathematicians who came up with this garbage roll over in their graves."

"Calm down Zac.. it's only Metzner." I giggled at his melodrama.

"Didn't I say don't rub it in?" he punched me lightly in the shoulder. "See ya at two-thirty, usual place?"

"Yup," I gave him a small wave before he parted from us. JoAnn and I continued walking down the hall together: her French class is right next door to my history one. I was surprised that I didn't know more about her favorite subject: her teacher talked so loudly it always echoed into our room. I could only be so lucky if it would drown out my own teacher. History is an important subject, I realize, but I don't see the point of it. No matter how many textbook pages you get assigned to read, no matter how many 'documentaries' are placed in front of you to watch, no matter how many dates you're required to memorize, no matter how many discussions you sit through, it's not possible to re-create the actual passion of past times. Doesn't help that your teacher speaks in soft, quiet, monotones all the time either. To me, it's the perfect recipe for a nap.

"Hey, it's your favorite person," JoAnn nudged me, interrupting my brooding. My eyes followed to where she was pointing: the sight of Samantha, decked out in her cheerleader uniform, taping bright flyers on to the wall.

"Absolutely," I gave her a small smile. It was the weirdest relationship with Samantha. Although we'd been around each other for years, it was always as if she held something against me, always had to separate herself from me. Whatever the hell about, I had no idea. Didn't really care too much about it, but sometimes it hit a little too close to home.

"Think she'll let me walk by without a comment?" I whispered.

"Snake-queen? Not a chance." I giggled at JoAnn's nickname for her, as I always did when she called her that. I'd met Zac about the same time Samantha decided she hated my existence on this planet, while JoAnn and I had instantly become friends last year when she'd moved into Tulsa.

"I could only be so lucky," I sighed, preparing myself for the worst. Surprisingly, none came, until my lovable best friend's independence got the best of her.

"Would you look at this," Jo remarked, catching sight of one of the fliers. She reached up and ripped it off the wall, a few seconds after Samantha had put it up. Glancing at it for the first time, I noticed it was for the junior prom.

Ick. It's like two months away, why the interest now? I already was not looking forward to that night at home. Fortunately, it was during the hockey season, so I would have something to take up my time. Hockey is the only sport I think I could ever be passionate about- watching it, not playing it. In that sense, Zac and I made the perfect maych: he played on a community league while I embarrassed the living daylights out of him at home games. It was a beautiful friendship.

"Hey!" Samantha spun around on the step ladder she was perched on before stating the obvious. "I just put that up there."

"I was just thinking of the rest of the student population here." JoAnn replied innocently, waving the fluorescent green-colored paper in front of Samantha's face.

"Someone could get blinded looking at this and hurt themselves walking into a locker or something. We wouldn't want that, think of the lawsuit." I just shook my head, glancing at her.

She's got more balls than any guy I know.

"JoAnn," Samantha smiled brightly, recognizing her. As usual, she chose to ignore me.

"Hello," was the casual reply.

"You should make Greg take you," Snake-queen pointed to the flier JoAnn still held between her fingers.

"If Greg wants to go to this, I'm sure he'll mention it to me. If not, then I won't make him do anything. If you'll excuse me, I need to get to class now." She replied and tugged on my arm gently. "Come on, Lindsey."

"Lindsey! Just the person I wanted to see," I turned around at Samantha's mentioning of my name.

Then why didn't you say anything when I was standing right in front of you? I wanted to ask. Instead, all I replied was:

"Yeah?"

"We're short on people for the planning committee for the prom." She smiled, tossing her hair lightly over her shoulder.

"So.. ?" I looked questioning at her.

Why on earth would you think I care about something like a prom?

"Are you interested in helping out or not?"

Not the least bit, was my first thought. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Umm.. I can if you really need it."

"Oh, wonderful!" She clasped her hands together. "We have a meeting tomorrow night in the gym."

"Ok," I replied.

Whatever.

"Thanks. Make sure you bring a grocery list with you."

"Grocery list?" I echoed the words.

"Yeah- we need someone to be in charge of the food committee. I figured you'd be perfect for the job." The smirk on her face made my mouth drop wide open. I couldn't tell if it was just a coincidence or she was being terribly mean. Most of me was leaning toward the latter.

Ouch. Like an idiot, I meekly replied.

"Sure. See you tomorrow."

"Thanks so much." She hopped of the ladder and patted my shoulder.

"No problem," I mumbled, watching her tiny figure bounce down the hallway. When I turned my head, the first thing I saw was an enraged look from a set of violet eyes.

"Lindsey Penelope," she said firmly.

"What?" I asked crossly. She'd pushed every button in my mind using my cursed middle name and was very aware of that fact as well.

"Hasn't hanging out with me for this past year taught you nothing?" She threw her hands up in the air. "For God's sake, I should make you take notes on how to grow a spine."

"Sorry Jo," I replied softly, keeping my eyes cast on the floor as we continued to walk to class.

"Seriously though," she put her hand on my shoulder as we stopped at the entrance of my history class. "You shouldn't let people march all over you."

"I know," I replied, giving her a tight-lipped smile.

Easier said than done.