Chapter One

"Hand it over, dork!" Ronni demanded.
Ah, my favourite thing to do at the beggining of the week!

She thought happily as she pushed a first year onto the hard, tiled floor.
Through the tiny mouse's tears, Alesha Small wailed, "Fine! There you go!"
She thrust a battered-looking book back to Marcy Bushytail, Ronni's BFF (that's best fox friend) and sidekick, who was leaning over Alesha and gripping her shoulder's tightly.

"Ha! Let's see..." Ronni started flicking throuhg the book, her eyes gleaming even more with every page turned. "Dear Diary, today Harry Whiskers chased me around again! But guess what? Patrick Fluff saved me! I think he's my new crush!" Ronni read aloud in a sqeaky, high pitched voice that sounded disturbingly like Alesha's.
"Ooh! Alesha and Patrick, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marridge, then comes a weird puppy-mouse thing in a baby carridge!" Marcy chanted, Ronni joining in.
"Boooooohooooooohooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!" Alesha sprinted up the corridor as fast as she could go on her short legs and banged the bathroom door shut behind her.
"Well, wasn't that a great start to the day?" Ronni said cheerfully, high-fiving Marcy.

Chapter Two

"Late again, are we, Simon?" Once again, Simon Shell was the last to class.
"But Mr. Stripey, you can't blame me! I'm a tortoise!" Simon blurted out.
The rest of his class burst into laughter at this. Simon watched as Ronni and Marcy leaned over their seats and made rude faces at him. Micheal Barkia, who was the captain of the school football team, shouted at him how he would never make the team. Patricia Fluff snorted, her dainty, snow-white nose turned up.
Great. Now Patricia thinks I'm stupid!

Simon had a giant crush on Patricia, who was a gorgeous poodle. Most boys had a crush on her, actually, though they all knew that Micheal Barkia was her boyfriend. This thought made Simon wish yet agian how he could be popular. The only skills he had were academic, and here was a simple equation in his academic mind:

"Quiet down, everyone!" Mr. Stripey, a mathematical tiger, called.
The class continued guffawing at Simon.
"HUSH, PUPPIES!!!!!" Micheal called, immediatly shutting Class AG up.
One of his mates, Brian Fin, a thuggish, muscular shark who always wore a tank on his head filled with water, like all the other fish that lived above water, gave him a high one (he only had one fin).
How come Micheal's so perfect?

Wondered Simon wistfully. He's funny, sporty, and a very good looking bull-terrier, too. I wish I could be like him.

"Right, can anybody answer the sum 1+2x3?" Mr. Stripey was asking as Simon climbed into the only free seat.
Few hands, fins or tentacles raised, and many took about five minutes to do so, but Simon's shot up like a bullet.
"Yes, Simon?"
"It's 7. The answer is 7." Simon answered simply.
"No, it isn't, you loser! Everybody knows that it's 9!" Micheal cried.
"Actually, Master Barkia, I think you'll find that the answer is

7. May you explain why, Simon?" Mr. Stripey requested.
"Because whenever you add, multiply, etc. together in a sum, they always come in a specific order: brackets first, then indicies, then division, then multiplication, then addition, and finally subtraction." Simon explained.
"Very good, Simon." Mr. Stripey praised Simon.
When the bell rang, all the students ran from the room, eager to get away. All but Simon.
"Sir, I was wondering, could I maybe have some extra homework?" He asked.
"Of course, Simon! Here, take this." Mr. Stripey handed him a sheet of paper.
"Thank you!" Simon thanked his teacher, then slowly (remember, this is Simon

) made his way out of the room.

Chapter Three

"And zen, he gave me zis awesome bracelait!" Patricia held out her paw to show her friend, Queenie Bea, a dazzling, beaded bracelet.
"Wow, Patricia! You're zzzzzzzo

lucky to have Micheal as a boyfriend! He'zzzz way better than Herbert! And he gives you such great giftzzzz!" Queenie buzzed, her voice full of jealousy.
"Zanks, Queenie. Anyway, I need ta goo. Micheal wanted to talk to me." Paricia said in her french accent, and started padding off towards the entrance to the two nearest bathrooms, where she and Micheal always met.

"Patricia! There you are!" Micheal must have been there for quite a while.
"Hi, Micheal." Patricia hurried up to him and gave him an affectionate lick on the ear.
"Patricia, we need to talk."
Patricia knew that this meant something serious. She listened closely to what Micheal was saying.
"You're a cool girl, and everything, but I don't think you're the right one for me. I mean, I like you, and everything, but I wanna break up. Don't take this badly, please. You were a great girlfriend, and everything." Micheal said, his eyes nervous, as he knew that Patricia would take this badly and start howling at him.
But she just stood there, looking at him, with the expression of somebody that had just witnessed a cat being chased by a mouse on her face.

And then

came the outburst.
"Yes, I'm not ze right girl for you, and you

are not ze right boy for me! Somebody zat says that many 'and everytings', and who smells of sweat every day, and who only eats food zat's healty for him to keep him a good football player, so that when he goes on a date with me, he never lez me get anything I want! I HATE YOU, MICHEAL BARKIA!" And with that, Patricia stalked down the hall, her nose held high, as usual.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.10.2012

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