| Before I tell you this, you have to swear not to judge me. It was his fault. I was blackmailed then bribed with pie. Any of you would have done the same. I mean, come on, it's pie. Go ahead and read on, but don't say I didn't warn you.
It all started during Geometry. Mrs Appletini (I forgot what her name is, so I'm going with that.) was talking our ears off about her cat, who apparently threw up again. Honestly, either she has no other life, or her cats seriously need some Pepto-Bismol. It wasn't like the people were too thrilled to be there. Half the class was ignoring the teacher and doing their best on the worksheet, while everyone else was asleep. Anyway, I was just sitting there innocently playing Doodlejump, when my friend Jared came over. Jared's pretty average looking, brown hair, tan, athletic. Girls at my school say he's cute, but they also go to the bathroom in groups, and I'm a guy. Jared must be one of the weirdest kids out there, plus ADD to boot. No, seriously. Yesterday I saw him chasing a squirrel. He's smart enough, I guess, just bored. Jared pulls some pretty crazy stunts to entertain himself. Last week he pulled a cotton-candy machine around school with him. When the teachers told him he couldn't bring it to class, he showed them a doctor's note claiming it was prescribed.
"Matt," he whispered, "Do you like pie?" What type of question is that? Of course I like pie. Pie is like, the Chuck Norris of desserts.
"Here's the deal," he continued, "You come to school tomorrow in a nightgown with a satchel, and I will bring you a pie. Any flavor you want, fresh from the grocery store. As long it's under ten dollars." Now, Jared's a pretty weird kid. He once brought vanilla pudding to school in an old mayonnaise jar. A girl started crying when he ate it. But I see no good reason to be dragged into his inner problems.
"Please, Matt?" Jared begged.
I put away my phone and raised an eyebrow. "Really, Jared?"
Jared pouted, then got a disturbing glint in his eyes. "Remember last summer, Matt?" Oh, God. I definitely remembered last summer. Jared threw this random end-of-the-year party, and everyone got hyped up on sugar. I was probably the worst. I'm not sure if I was sleepwalking or in a post-sugar frenzy sort of thing, but Jared now has a twenty minute video of me dancing to Katy Perry songs in a feather boa with a stuffed duck. The blackmail threats have been going on forever.
I hung my head. "You win. Do you want frills or bows on the nightgown?"
Absolute horror was my first thought when I looked in the mirror that morning. I had an over-embellished, floor-length pink nightgown/dress on (No, I do not actually own one. It was a gift from Jared- and I really don't want to know why he owns one.), and a man purse. Oh, sorry, a satchel. At least I don't have ponytail. Worst bright side ever. Jared better have a great reason for this, like it'll cure cancer or bring Steve Jobs back to life. Anything less than saving the polar bears and I am out.
"Hey, man, you look great," commented Jared.
"People have been staring at me all morning, my friends won't talk to me in public, and I think some guy tried to ask me out," I countered. "Do you really want to go there? Because that pie better be freaking amazing for all the trouble I've gone through." Truth be told, it wasn't really all that bad. The nightgown was sort of comfortable, and the purse was great for carrying things around. Girls aren't completely crazy. But they're still weird.
"Got to get to English or Mrs. McCauley will kill me. We'll meet up after Geometry for the rest of this," Jared smirked, heading into the classroom. How wonderful. There's more. Absolutely thrilling to know that I might go home in bright red lipstick.
I gagged as I passed Mrs. Baum's room, which reeked of lilacs and hairspray. The pink from the room was blinding. "Matt?" I turned to face Mrs. Baum. She was wringing her hands and her eyebrows were creased.
"Matt," she asked, "Have you been sleeping alright? You're not doing drugs, are you? Because I know students who feel pressure start doing drugs. I know I shouldn't have assigned that essay on aquatic mammals. Oh my Lord, I'm going to be fired for forcing a student to do drugs. No one will ever hire me again. I'll end up being a Whopper Flopper at Burger King, and I'm not going to be able to pay the rent, and I won't have enough money to pay for Joey and Vanessa's college tuition, and-"
"Relax, Mrs. Baum," I said. "It was just a dare."
"A dare?" she replied. "Who would dare you to come to school in a nightgown with a satchel?"
"Ah," she said, and then headed back to her classroom. That is one great thing about Jared. The mere mention of his name can get you out of anything at this school. I wonder what he's done that scares the teachers so much. Now if I can just walk past those people without getting any weird looks...
I glared at Jared. "That was the worst experiance of my existence. Mrs. What's-her-face was so freaked out she wasn't even able to talk about her cats today. Haley came up and offered to do my makeup, and Maggie asked me where I got the dress. And I swear someone was taking pictures of me during Geometry."
"Uh, yeah, that was me," Jared replied. "I felt the yearbook needed a little pizzazz this year, so you've got an entire page in the yearbook devoted to your fabulous new look today. Congratulations!" I couldn't believe it. He wanted a more interesting yearbook page? All he has to do is uncover the thinly veiled secret that most of our meals in the cafetorium are made of pink slime anad horse meat, and he's golden.
"Anyway, thanks for the help," Jared continued. "I've got a banana cream pie and a chocalate cream. Take your pick."
I smiled. "I think I"ll take the banana."
SMASH. I flipped the pie up into Jared's face, whipped cream and banana slices flying everywhere. The now-empty pie tin fell to the floor with a satisfying clang. Jared stood still in sheer shock.
"Say cheese!" I said, grabbing Jared's camera out of his locker and taking a couple pictures. "It looks like you've got a new yearbook page. No way it'll be boring now." Jared tentatively reached up to his face and pulled a chunk of graham cracker crust off of his eye. I cringed, waiting for his response.
"Amazing!" he shouted, bouncing up and down. "Spectacular! This is a terrific addition to the yearbook page. No way it'll be boring now." I grinned even wider than before.
"You know what? Go ahead and pie me with the chocolate cream," I decided. "I don't care if people stare. Today was fun. And take some pictures for the yearbook, too." With an evil, terrifying smile, Jared obliged, rubbing chocolate into my skin.
"It's good for the pores," Jared told a couple girls as they passed. They rolled their eyes and laughed, commenting on how cheesy we were. And for one of the first times, I didn't care. Jared was right. I needed to relax, stop worrying.
"You only live once, right?" Jared asked.
I chuckled. "Yolo," I agreed.