In my school, we have this dumb period called skills. It is last period, and we switch teachers every day. What we do in skills totally depends on the teacher we have.

Anyways, I was in science skills. My teacher was making us plot the track of Hurricane Katrina. He is oddly obsessed with hurricanes and no one knows why.

He put me at a science tavolo in the back of the room, with this girl named Abigail.

Abigail and I had talked before, but we weren’t really that close.

I gathered my hurricane plotting materials, and placed them down on the black science table.

Once class started, Abigail and I began talking. We both seemed to enjoy messing with my science teacher.

As we were working quietly, my science teacher let out one of his world famous laughs.

te see, he really doesn’t laugh, he just chuckles. He has a very squeaky irritating laugh, so when he let out a loud one, Abigail and I cracked up.

“Abigail! Kellyy! What’s going on back there?” he said.

“Nothing Mr. Ellicott,” Abigail said.

We both giggled but we managed to keep our mouths shut.

In the middle of plotting out hurricane, Abigail shouts out:
“HEY! THIS HURRICANE PASSES THROUGH A CITY THAT IS NAMED AFTER MY LAST NAME!”

I guess she had detto it louder than she had intended, because right after she detto it, she plopped her head down on the science tavolo and started laughing.

About half way through the skills period, we both finished plotting the hurricane.

Abigail asked Mr. Ellicott what we should do after we finished. He simply detto to work on other home work, but since he was più interested in what was on his computer screen than Abigail, he obviously wasn’t remembering the fact that it was Friday before vacation.

Abigail skipped back to her spot in the back of the room successivo to me.

She told me what he had said. I looked towards the front of the room, to where Mr. Ellicott was sitting. He started to open his mouth, but he just kept it about half-way open. Just sitting there with his mouth open.

I poked Abigail.

“Look at Mr. Ellicott,” I whispered.

She looked at him, and laughed. Mr. Ellicott turned, but his mouth didn’t close it just sat there wide open.

Abigail torn a corner of her paper off, as Mr. Ellicott was going around the room to check how our work was going.

She franticly wrote some words on the paper, before Mr. Ellicott got to our table. She crumpled up the piece of paper and slid it over to me as she began to look over her paper.
The paper detto I think he’s waiting for flies to fly into his mouth . I cracked a smile, but I managed to gain composer before he got to our table.

“How are te Abigail,” he asked as he looked over her shoulder at her work.

“Fine, Mr. Ellicott,” she said.

He left finally, leaving me and Abigail in a haze from the heavy colon he wears.

Abigail got bored of just watching Mr. Ellicott, so she skipped up to where Mr. Ellicott had left some printer paper, crayons, rulers, and colored pencils.

She grabbed a handful of crayons and a wad of papers, and skipped back leaving a trail of papers behind her.

“Look Kellyy! I got a plethora of colors!” she detto as she held out her open hand and spilled out-dated crayons onto the table.

At this point I was pretty sure that she was on something, but I must have been on the same thing because I was just as hyper.

“Imma draw a pirdy picture!” she cried, but softly so Mr. Ellicott wouldn’t get mad at us.

After a few minuti of Abigail frantically scribbling on her paper, I asked her what she was drawing.

“NO! te can’t see Kellyy!” she yelled.

Mr. Ellicott unglued his eyes from the screen and said:

“Abigail Nassau and Kellyy Gibbs! te two are to see me after class,” he screeched.

As he turned away, Abigail and I exchanged a glance that basically detto Yes! Time to goof off!.

Abigail finally showed me what she was working on. It was a girl with brown hair, standing. The sun was shining.

“Apparently, you’re supposed to be able to see the opposite color in a certain color,” she detto very matter-of-factly.

With that note, Abigail began to color her sun purple. While she was doing this, I was drawing neat lines inside the ‘y’ of my name.

Abigail grabbed my paper and started to draw on it.

“Hey! Give that back!” I cried. The whole class turned around, and looked at me and Abigail.

We froze. They soon reverted their attention to the plotting.

We both laughed.

Abigail still refused to give me my paper. I was going to put it up in my locker, but I just decided not to. She was frantically scribbling on my paper. She showed me the paper a few minuti later. She had written in all the names of the colori in that color. So there was a big fat “SEA BLUE” written across my paper.

I realized that my drawing was ruined, so I scribbled on my paper with Abigail. We were pressing extremely hard on the crayons, so we got that sloppy-kindergartener look.

“Crap!” Abigail whispered. I looked over to find her trying to put the tip of her crayon back in the paper lining. “Kellyy, throw this over there.”

I took the arancia, arancio crayon tip and threw it under the counter that surrounded the whole room.

Announcements started.

Mr. Ellicott told the class not to stack their chairs because Abigail and Kellyy would be doing it.

As soon as they dismissed 7th graders, the whole class ran out the door. Abigail and I looked at each other.

We both yelled: “YEAH! MANUAL LABOR!” as we threw chairs up on to the tables. A few fell and we both screamed.


Some names and identifying features have been changed to protect their identities