"Aye pull me up baldy!" She silently spoke, weirdly waving her hands.

Without further ado it was time to let her weight sink in my hands—

oh shi—arghh!

(Damn if I moaned loudly the guard gonna know my ass flyin' up here!...I should have thought "shrieking" instead of "moaning"...)

Can't you even lift a girl up baldy—

ShutUpBRunette!

Jeez.

With a forced burp worth of struggle we both finally hopped to the other side.

(Kinda crazy the guard didn't see us on the wall. Incompetent puff-ass)

The ground was clear, as it wasn't a similie to military camp, just metres of land with somehow a dog limping around, that too the color of ground.

"Aye beenli. ehm—we should missed a period by n—"

BRRRRRRINNGGGG

Shit—devil's call

At this word by word moment, we did a classic "meet the eyes"

(Ok my throat feels weird after that unison)

A threat posed at the entrance of the building, that was the peon who sat there.

(Not a single bit of trust in that gray hair and wrinkle folded skin—all the old asses got some sixth down their butts)

Somehow, the master intruder Neeta found An open window leading to the wallway.

(She definitely got like—some bullshit plot armour)

                          ***

After doing zoomies of fuckeries around the hallway we found that class. 7th b.

(Mom didnt tell the class name. Neeta saved my ass there definitely)

...

"let's enter baldy the teacher ain't there yet"

"Bet"

And we entered the class. This sudden appearance drew all the eyes at us...

Each eye, from its boundry to the speck most of each eye, was visible to me. There were people my age in the space. Not one or two. They were dozens.

"The hell—how—eh—you two are you so late—and WHO are you—"

"Yo bro—SHUT UP AND DO YOUR STUFF"

(Ou shii. For real on that one brunette)

It was a bulby-nosed kid posing as an interrogator.

(Wanna be tuff ass motherfucker)

"Hey buzzcut—what bout you why ya—"

"—YO BRO SHUT UP I TOLD YOU"

The background silently exploded with randoms speaking.

"Oh damn—"

"No way bruh got done like that"

"Ayeee—nah man she did him dirty"

"Not gonna lie—I would have lashed out at that"

(Man she just told the fatass to shut up—WHAT'S THE FUZZ EVEN 'BOUT?!)

                        ***

Soon it was calm. Well it went calm because, Neeta threaten to implode all the ears that were mumbling in the background view. 

Little insects were on the class window, a spider unknowingly crushed into spread apart legs by an elbow. Nothing peculiar or fantastic.

A random boy nudged me in the shoulder.

It were american style sitting tables assigned for student, apparently they were the part of the school's modern shift and this class was the first reciever of it. 

For neeta, she remained—I don't comprehend what expression—at two rows apart in the very back. 

The random boy said aloud to myself—

"Damn dude your girl—"

"Ehhr—she ain't my girl"

"Ouu shii—mean I can hit?"

(This peanut-assed guy is in seventh grade askin' bout hittin' on a girl, the corniest shit live.)

"What happened dude—ya don't want me makin a move—"

"Ehr—do anythin' I 'on't care"

Sweet!

With that this unknown boy went straight to her for some, "sweet talk". As much as his confidence was mounding up it was of dirt, which meant the brunette can either bloom on the dirt or just piss on it till meltin'.

(This gonna be interesting)

As soon as the on the checkerbox tiles, his steps got closer to the box closest to her, the teacher for the period came and—

"Beenli Sahu and Neeta Lubana are requested to come out."

(Oh fuck—fuck—fuck!)

                           ***

Turns out it was found out we climbed in from the wall.

Since it was our first day a light slap on wrist worth of punishment was given to us. However, the light slap lifted Neeta's skin i suppose.

"Beenli—i swear to god whoever told on us i am gonna sho—"

"Ayo—chill brunnete—uhhm..you know what they call a quarter pounder with cheese in france?"

"The hell's a quarter pounder—"

"Aye—you ain't suppose to say that—ask what do they call it!"

(Damn all this hallway weird already—she gonna lash out on me)

"Okay—what do they call it?"

(OH DAMN—she went forth withit—)

They call it a...a royale with cheese

Her lips curved into inhumane shapes of confusion and weariness, it was so cold I could feel the air in this lifeless shut-box of an orange hallway.

"What in the—FRIKIN—hell was the point of that!?"

"Eh—uhrm—ok—ok do this one—yeah—this one...hello Truman—Good morning—"

She threw her hands up at the fuckery that was taking place in her presence. 

Now from her reaction regarding all this it got cemented in that her media literacy is below the ground, there were ants marching in a line, beneath all the way from hallway to the classroom. Its sat fascinating with me that ant hills are neighbour to giant human-made complexes.

(Or they might be leavin' underground who knows?...underground sounds cooler.)

"Who the hell is TRUMAN?—

"You know—jus'—leave it your media knowledge is in zeroes—"

"Meh—YOU are the one out here quoting weird-shit stuff"

"Ye—its not weird shi—"

Leave it.

Okay.

She put her hand on my collar bone, in a lean her eyes wandered around my collar.

"What's it—"

"Where's your tie baldy?"

"Tie? Oh yeah its in my pocket—"

"The hell it's there for?"

"Uhm..well it was kinda loosely around my neck when we were runnin'—"

"Heh?—Get to the point dumbass—"

I lost it.

"Beenli, you are..one clumsy piece of dumb fu—"

"AYE—chill on that brunette—the tie just flew off my neck!"

"That's so fuckin' dumb—"

(Damn she throwing around a lot o' fucks it seems.)

"Aye— girl—the hell you throwin' 'round so many F bombs for?"

"So—urhm—yeah—the girl behind me was just dropping them like—crazy like 'such a motherfucking piece of fuck that—' and blah blah, so I—"

"Stop with the ted talk there."

What's ted talk—

Leave it.

Ok.

She lifted her tie flat in her left palm. Like she was measuring what it weighs, though that might sound futile.

"Gimme your neck"

Wha—

(And I felt. Choked. Strangled. Violated)

Her hands seemed so delicate and pretty but they were the hands of murder. 

"Aye—Loose it!—"

"Stop whining Beenie‐bald!"

"I CAN'T BREATH—"

Finally looped around my collar was neat tie. A tie that sat tightly on my skin. It gave a look of me, I am unaware of what it is, but in Neeta's words I am looking better because I have "her scent".

(Weirdo brunette)

Lookin' at the clock on the wall above, I didn't know if the period was over.

( it's my first time I cut some slack—)

BRRRINNNGGGG!

(Speak of the devil),

All the kids poured out in horde as the well went, indicates its the lunch bell as the crowd is roaming corner by corner.

Neeta finally lets her breath out in relief, her body looked like it pumped out a lot of breath, for she bended way too much for just one breath.

"Give me a five baldy for survin' this—"

Wha—

"Too slow—"

Like some manually runned machine she gripped my hand and high-fived it.

"We are goin' to that interrogater fatass."

(That—came out of NOWHERE DUDE)

Heh?

"We gonna see it right then and right there"

I guess.