Should I finish this fuckass fanfiction
From the moment he laid eyes on her, Bobby Best knew that Bryce Tankthrust was meant to be his. He was invisible. In the background. Barely noticed- until someone noticed him. And that someone was Bryce. When a storm of evergreen ponchos pointed mocking fingers at his sobbing face, the Goddess herself swooped in and saved him, like SHE was the knight. The seven-year-olds ran amuck together, causing light-hearted (not yet malice-filled) chaos wherever they went.
Recess no longer felt dreadful and lonely when the diva appeared. For the first time in his entire young life, he had a friend. He had a companion who would smile at him, listen to him speak and even agreed with some of the things he would say. Each morning the youngster daydreamed of seeing the popular girl stride into class with a bounce in her step, where she would greet him by the shoe cubby and then whisper to him throughout the duration of class. Every time the teacher would catch them conversing during standard 'quiet time' and of course she would scold them to shut their traps whenever they yapped. On days where that turned out to be their hardest challenge, they were seperated from one another...and Bryce had to sit next to this know-it-all-jock named Spencer. Bobby's gaze darkened with jealousy at every interaction the idiot and his queen shared- from simple askings-of-pencils to the occasional shoulder bumps that were...more than accidental. Mrs. Garcia (bless her heart) did not seem to smell the tension brewing in the air, as she drawled on about whatever math equation was on the board.
"Seventy-one, Mrs! The answer is seventy one!" Bryce yelled after Mrs. Garcia called on her.
"Correct, Miss Tankthrust. Forty-six plus twenty-five equals seventy-one."
Bobby jotted down in his notebook. He had no idea how to spell profound, nor what it even meant. It just sounded right. If someone were to look over his shoulder right at that moment, though- they wouldn't see English. They wouldn't even see words. All they would find is what someone would assume to be a drawn out rollercoaster to the pits of hell. (And not the one where Angel Dust's at. You weird freaking simp. Don't simp- my poor innocent feline Mr. Big is right behind meh you DiSguStInG pErVeRt)
Spencer the Denser, as Bobby nicknamed him, leaned back in his chair. He had that stupid smug grin on his face. It made Bobby want to punch him right in his mouth and watch the blood gush out when he pulled his hand back. But he couldn’t do that. Not in front of Bryce. So he continued to watch as the bastard stretched his jaw to let out a yawn, before not so smoothly sneaking his arm around Bryce’s neck. (You know the move.) Bobby felt the blood in his body gurgle like lava in volcano. The inferno of anger spread from his undeveloped brain to the tips of his feet, and he had to grip the edges of his desk to NOT snap the fucker’s arm in half.
The small brained, no future having imbecile had his hand on HIS girl. Bryce tried to shift away, but the kid apparently didn’t get the message. Not like he could comprehend a warning signal with the increasingly negative amount of brain cells in his brain everyday, anyway. Bryce wasn’t like the other girls in class who would just accept this sort of treatment. She was a firecracker. And when Spencer tried to plant a kiss on her cheek, she shoved a lathered pencil up his nose. In just a few seconds, the boy started convulsing on the floor. The writing utensil still lodged up there.
Bryce became a convincing actress, shouting and looking around with a realistic fear that caused Bobby’s heart to clench. Mrs. Garcia immediately believed Bryce’s fabricated story, as conviently, nobody else in the room saw what happened. (And if they did…lets just say Bobby would give them a visit later…) Bryce had been eating some peanut butter Bobby sneaked her earlier that morning, as her Mother rarely let her have such treats. She smothered the yellow material with said peanut butter…having no clue Spencer was allergic to peanuts…but either way it worked out in her favor. During her performance she cried something about Spencer being “allergic to pencils” and at the E.R., the doctors actually confirmed that. For the rest of his school career, Spencer would be called ‘Little Pencer’ because of this supposed allergy, and the fact that he had a little cock.
