>The school bell rings, marking the end of the period.
>"See you guys later, and remember, you have a report is due Monday! Anon, please wait a second. I need to speak with you."
>Oh great, what could this be about?
>You sigh internally, turning away when you were steps away from freedom and potential food.
>Mrs. C smiles at you as you walk over. You wait for her to say something, but she appears to be waiting for everyone in the class to leave.
>As it's lunch time, it doesn't take long for that to happen.
>As the door closes behind the last student Mrs. C stands up and approaches you.
>She gets close, really close. So close you can smell her perfume. It's an alluring flowery smell, with a bit of spiciness to it.
>She leans in, allowing you a short shot of cleavage through her cardigan.
>Without much warning, she grabs your package, working it so expertly that she has your hard in seconds. God, how do fingers even move like that?
>"Anon, I just wanted to thank you for being such a good friend to Gilda. She's a bit too proud to admit it, but she really enjoys your friendship."
"You thankful enough to erase those pictures you have of me?"
>Chryssie chuckles, and then letting go of your pants she spins you around and pushes you out the door, closing it softly behind her.
>"What was that about?" A tall girl with short white hair says from beside you.
>"Nothing." You say, rearranging your pants.
>Every single talk you have Mrs. C seems to leave you with a boner.
>You aren't sure if this is a bad thing, but it certainly leaves you unsatisfied.
>Seeming to understand the situation immediately, Gilda chuckles and says, "Come on, I'm starving. Let's get to the lunchroom."
 
>It's been a month since you were forced to be friends with your former bully, but she is actually pretty fun.
>Sure, the first few meetings were awkward, but after you started to discuss music and other popular mediums things took a turn for the interesting.
>She seems to be surprisingly well read, at least when it came to comics and anything to do with aviation.
>Gilda seems to really like airplanes.
>"Yeah, I'm going to be a pilot after high school" she said, confidently.
>Heck, that's one thing more than you know you want to do after high school.
>Upon asking her on the exact details of becoming a pilot, Gilda says,
>"Airplane school? I dunno, I still have a while to figure that out."
>She even mentioned how she faked her father's signature and got herself a library card so she could read stuff at home.
>"Yeah, well, I spent a lot of time at the library near my house. It was... Well... A place to go." Gilda said, not expositing on the subject further.
>You know that Gilda has had a hard life so far, but she doesn't seem to want to talk about it. All you know is that she knows very little about music, movies, etc. etc.
>When you first introduced her to your favorite bands she seemed absolutely hungry for more.
"Just look them up on Yewtube." You remember saying.
>"What's Yewtube?" Gilda responded.
>It was at that point you found out Gilda is a stranger to an astonishing thing known as the internet, and computers in general.
>You spent that afternoon after classes in the school library educating your new friend on the wonders of the world wide web.
>It was pretty cute actually, watching her chicken peck on the keyboard. Watching her enthusiasm at the various things she could find by typing words into Guugle.
>You remember her lament as the school library closed, and her joy as you mentioned that she could always use the computers at the library near her to log into the internet.
>Which you of course, naturally did right after mentioning that fact.
 
>On the flip side, she has had an influence on you.
>On more than one occasion you have helped Gilda with her pranks.
>You've sabotaged pizza day at lunch, strategically left perishable food items near intake vents, and sent some liberated lab rats marked #1, #2, and #4 out on the school.
>That last one was particularly good, seeing as it left the teachers and staff looking for a "#3" rat for the rest of the day.
>Seeing as you never really stepped a toe out of line before having met Gilda, these outings are particularly exhilarating to you.
>they've even improved your opinion of Gilda.
>During one prank where the both of you were spray painting rather derogatory comments against the football team against the walls outside the gym when someone, perhaps a janitor or a security guard, announced his presence and desire to catch you both.
>You both started to run, and after spraining your ankle in the escape attempt she actually came back and picked you up, carrying you to safety despite the possible trouble that could have come to her.
>Upon questioning her about this piece of altruism, Gilda said rather bashfully,
>"Well I wasn't going to just leave you. I mean, the whole reason you came was because I asked you. That wouldn't be right, you know?"
>After which she punched you hard in the arm.
>Girls are very strange, or perhaps it's just Gilda.
>She even got you to smoke a cigarette.
>Not that you particularly enjoyed this, nor do you ever plan to do it again, but it made you feel rather cool.
 
>You both get to the lunchroom, and after purchasing some food you both find a table.
>That is to say, Gilda sits down at one, and everyone else there clears out.
>Gilda's tray is full of food, more than she could possibly eat.
>You are used to this sight, and you know for a fact that she wraps the edibles she doesn't finish in napkins and stuffs them in her backpack.
>You aren't enough of an idiot to ask why she would do such a thing. If she wanted you to know the real reason, she would tell you.
>What really bugs you is that from what you've understood from her family situation, she seems to have little access money. How is she affording all this food?
>You casually glance at the people who were forced away from your table.
>They were quickly absorbed into another tables, the previous occupants seeming to understanding the situation.
>You currently wouldn't give up your friendship with Gilda for anything, but you have to admit that it's come with a price.
>You thought you being friends with Gilda would diminish her reputation, but it seems to be the literal exact opposite.
>You being friends with her has "improved" yours.
>From what you gathered (i.e. what Gilda has threatened or beaten out of people) your classmates are completely confused about what could have brought you and Gilda together as friends.
>There are rumors that, despite your rather normal appearance, you have a secretive bad ass side to you.
>You must admit that being called "dangerous" feel pretty cool, but it has severely limited your possible friend pool even more, as you are also being avoided.
>The few nerds that you would call acquaintances have abandoned you, either because of your reputation or because where ever you go, Gilda, a well known bully, isn't close behind.
>Not even your former football bullies say more than a casual word to you anymore.
>This in turn has caused a secondary effect.
>You doubt you'll ever find a girlfriend now.
 
>You suppose you could try joining a club at school, but you aren't sure you'd be wanted.
>Plus, that means less time with Gilda.
>You watch Gilda chow down silently for a second before saying,
"Hey Gilda... I don't suppose you know anyone you could set me up with, do you?"
>She swallows heavily and then with a grin and a nudge says, "Oh? Looking for some action huh? You mean the one time you were with me wasn't enough, eh?"
"Why, you offering?"
>"You're way out my league, buddy." She says, giving you a cocksure smile.
"Anyway, I'm just feeling a bit lonely is all. You ever feel that way?"
>"Of course not, I got Chryssie!" She says, a bit more confidently than you think she should.
>You frown.
>Even after hearing about how much they cared for each other, you've never really liked the relationship between Mrs. C and Gilda.
>You've always felt that there is a bit of a power imbalance there, and you've seen how manipulative Mrs. C can be towards her.
>You don't voice these opinions much, as you've both argued about it, and generally it leads to one of you not speaking to the other for a few hours.
>From what you could drag out of Gilda on these occasions it seems that Mrs. C has done more than her fair share of getting Gilda out of trouble, the only example of which she has even mentioned being something about saving her from the police.
>You glance away again, and of course your eyes stop on a couple.
>It's a girl sitting at a lunch table. The girl is half sitting in the boyfriends lap, and they are whispering to each other, giving quick pecks on the cheeks and staring longingly into each others eyes.
>It's so saccharine that you think you might get diabetes, but you aren't going to pretend that you aren't a little envious.
 
>Gilda glances towards the scene, and then back at you.
>Scooting closer, she puts an arm around your shoulder and punches you.
>God, despite the fact that she doesn't wear any perfume, she always smells so good.
>"You really wanna get your dick wet that badly, huh?"
>You roll your eyes at your friends tactful choice of words, and then shrug.
"It'd be nice I guess."
>"Well then, let's get you a girl, Anon! With your ol' pal Gilda here we can even make up for your lack of game!"
>She notices you glare daggers at her and says, "Come on, i didn't mean that as an insult. It's just the truth. Honest is part of being friends right?"
>You are about to mention how she hasn't told you much about her and Chryssie's past so it's a bit rich of her to say that, but for the sake of your quest you'll bite your tongue.
>"Anyway, let's see what we have to work with! Which girl gives you a stiffy?"
>Now that you think about it, despite desiring a girlfriend you haven't thought about that too much.
>You scan the lunchroom and focus on two girls standing near a drinking fountain. One is a rather pale girl with well styled purple hair, and the other is a more natural looking pink haired girl. The paler of the two is chatting animatedly at her friend, who stares up at her shyly from the mouthpiece of the fountain. You don't know either all that well, but they are pretty and that's a good start.
>You are about to point their direction when Gilda says, "Not them. Way out of your league. I'm glad to see you are aiming high, but for you right now that's like outer space."
>You grumble and then search the lunchroom again.
>You pass the table that, prior to your friendship you would have sat at.
>The Nerd Table.
>Suddenly you see the answer you were waiting for. In fact, you aren't sure why you didn't think of it before.
>There is a girl there with orange, curly hair and tortoise shell glasses, a book open while she types things into a calculator.
 
"How about Scribble Dee then?"
>"Who?"
"Over there, at the nerd table."
>"Oh, her." Gilda says, glancing over her shoulder, "You sure man?"
"What's wrong with her?"
>"I dunno, not much to look at, is she?"
"Don't be jealous because she is cuter than you are."
>"I'd rather be smokin' hot then cute anyway." Gilda says, pushing her chest out and mocking a pose a model might make.
>Now that you think about it, there couldn't be two people more unlike each other at the school.
>Gilda is tall with a good bust and curvy hips.
>Scribble Dee on the other hand is a few inches shorter than you, rather flat, and a bit scrawny. You'd probably describe her as petite.
>Heck, even their clothing is opposed.
>Scribble Dee can usually be seen wearing a light sweater and tie over a collared shirt, along with a plain brown skirt emblazed with a pair of crossed pencils, and socks with sandals.
>Today Gilda sports heavy duty boots, black leather pants, and her bomber jacket over a white t-shirt.
>Now that you think of it, you've never seen her without the bomber jacket.
"So what's the plan?"
>Gilda props her head on her hand and says in a bored voice, "Just go up and ask if she wants to fuck. She is such a doormat that she'd probably do it."
"You know her?"
>"Oh, sure! My lunch today came courtesy of your fuck buddy, as well as a few others. She never puts up a fight."
"You know, you really shouldn't bully-"
>Gilda waves a hand in front of your face.
>"Yeah yeah, thanks for the lecture mom."
>You've only talked to Scribble Dee a few times, mostly small things like to borrow a pencil.
>You couldn't gather much from that, other than she seemed really shy, but friendly.
"I don't know if I want to just go up to her here at lunch. I think she might get a bit embarrassed."
>"Hey, I can handle that! Be behind the gym after school today, alright? Hopefully that's private enough for you."
 
>You thought you'd be more nervous about the whole thing.
>You only had one brief burst of worry, wondering that if she said no if she would tell everyone else who she talks too.
>Then you realized you really don't give a shit, and that if she said no it wouldn't really change anything.
>You'd still be the weirdo hanging out with the bully.
>The bell for final period rings, and you make your way calmly out the double doors near the back of the school and make a turn towards the backside of the gym.
>The backside of the gym is more like a path to the front of the school, little wider than a sidewalk, and while paved, is unmaintained, and the concrete is barely visible over the grass that has almost overtaken it. On one side is the painted brick wall of the gym, and on the other a chain link fence facing the wall of some business.
>It's fairly well hidden from view, and hardly anyone comes back here, making it a perfect place for Gilda to come and smoke cigarettes between breaks.
>This place also happens to be where you and Gilda spray painted the inflammatory comments against some of the football team, and it appears they have been inexpertly sand blasted away and then painted over, making it still mostly legible.
>Scribble Dee stands in front of it, looking visibly agitated, and hasn't noticed you yet.
>You hail her, and she looks up in surprise at you.
>"A-anon? What are you doing here!?" she squeaks out.
"Uh... Is there a reason I shouldn't be here?"
>Scribble Dee's knees start to quake, and she looks like she might start crying.
>"P-please, Anon, I'm sorry for whatever I did to Gilda or to you but please don't-" she says quickly, letting the words tumble out.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you talking about?"
>Scribble Dee looks at you with confusion before saying, "Gilda told me to come here after school today or that she'd hurt me..."
>God damn it Gilda.
 
"Look, there has been a big misunderstanding. I was the one that wanted you to come out here, actually."
>"U-uh..." Scribble Dee says, going pale again and pressing herself against the gym wall.
"It's nothing bad!" You say quickly, "I uh... Actually wanted to ask you out. You know, on a date."
>Scribble Dee stares at you for a second, and then her face goes from pale to stoplight red so fast you are surprised she didn't get a head rush and pass out.
>"B-b-but I thought you were dating Gilda!" she says, wide eyed.
"What?" you say, it being your turn to flush slightly.
"Who's saying that? No, we're friends. Just friends."
>"Oh!" She says, with a smile.
"So? What do you say?"
>"Um, oh! Yeah I mean I-I'd love to go out on a date!" and then blushing again finishes, "A date with you!"
>You spend the next few minutes figuring out where exactly you are going to go, and you decide on dinner at a place she knows called "Bella Bambino".
>After that you part ways, and you watch her scurry off, giggling.
>God, she really is a cutie.
>"Man, that wasn't nearly as funny as I thought it was going to be."
>You turn around to see Gilda approach from the opposite way that Scribble Dee left.
"How much of that were you listening to?"
>"Most of it. A pretty nervous person, isn't she?"
>"Yeah..."
>Gilda sits down underneath the graffiti and pulls a pack of cigarettes from her boot and lights one up. You sit down next to her. She offers you a smoke, but you decline.
>"Can you believe she thought we were dating?" Gilda says, kind of awkwardly.
"Yeah. Weird right?" you answer quickly.
>More silence.
>"You know, it ain't gonna be much fun fucking a girl like her. Bet she doesn't even know what part goes in what. Probably hasn't even been to first base."
"Yeah, too bad all girls can't be sluts like you, eh?"
>"Fuck you too, dweeb." She says, punching you hard in the arm.
 
"So, this'll be my first date. Any suggestions?"
>Gilda blows out a puff of smoke slowly and says, "I don't know."
"I thought you were going to help me with 'my game'."
>"Well, if it were someone you needed help with I would. You are far more interesting than she is. You'll keep her so entertained that after she's done stuffing her face with food she'll stuff it with your dick. Just be yourself, man. Worse comes to worst just talk to her about nerdy shit."
>"Oh, hey!" She says, sitting up suddenly. "How about this, offer to pay for the dinner. From what little I know about her she'll probably insist that you don't but you should press it. Trust me, she'll like it."
"Uh, Alright."
>You two shoot the shit for a few minutes before going home.
>The day of your day you spend about five times longer dressing yourself than you usually do.
>Making the total time about five minutes.
>You wish you had asked Gilda what to wear.
>You wonder if it would have mattered, since you don't really have any nice clothes anyway.
>You end up asking your dad for something nice to wear, and he digs in his closet a bit and finds an old polo that doesn't fit him. He asks you what you need it for and you tell him you are going on a date.
>"Really? Hey, need some money? We'll call it a celebration on your first date ever."
"Sure!"
>You actually planned to dip into your stashed allowance for the date, but hey, you aren't going to turn down free money.
>"Sooo... Who's the lucky lady? Gilda?" He asks, smiling and nudging you.
"No. I told you dad, Gilda and I are just friends."
>This comment makes you smile though. You are glad your parents like Gilda.
 
>You had paired up with Gilda on a science project, and she had flat out refused to do it at her house.
>You were a little bit anxious to let Gilda over, as you weren't sure how your parents would react to her mannerisms.
>At first you were worried when you saw the looks on your parent's faces when you introduced her, but it turned out to be completely unwarranted.
>Gilda was polite, humble, and acted probably the closest thing to shy you've ever seen her do.
>Lot's of "yes ma'ams" and "no, sirs". Sitting up straight at the dinner table. Lot's of compliments, and most weirdly of all, no swearing.
>In fact, you were wondering if maybe she was feeling a bit uncomfortable, and after you finished up your project for the night you offered to walk her part way home.
>Taking to the chilly night air, you both make your way down the driveway of your house and to the sidewalk.
"Hey, is everything okay?"
>"Hmm? Yeah, why?"
"I don't know, you just were acting kind of... Weird in there."
>Gilda goes silent for a second, and then says, "I never know how to act around adults is all. With teachers it's easy because I mostly don't give a fuck about what they say, but your parents? I just wanted them to like me. I got kind of nervous."
>You are a bit taken a back by this thoughtfulness on her part.
"Hey, don't worry, they loved you! And if they didn't, that's on them. Even if they had said to stay away from that awful Gilda girl it wouldn't have stopped me."
>Gilda laughs out loud at this, and grabs you around the neck in a head lock. "Well, well, well! Look who's the smooth talker here!"
>You break out of your reminiscing and stare down at the polo, slipping it on in near a mirror near your dad's closet. You thank him for the shirt, and after he pulls out his wallet and hands you some bills you make your way to the bus stop near your house.
 
>After an uneventful bus ride you end up in front of Bella Bambino.
>The outside is a rather modest establishment sharing one wall each with a dentist's office and a daycare.
>The white front of the restaurant is mostly one long window with a door set into it.
>You might not have noticed this was the meeting place had you not seen the neon size above the door picturing the name of the restaurant as well as a rather happy looking corpulent chef holding a pizza.
>Stepping inside, your mouth instantly waters as the smell of garlic fills your nostrils.
>All the walls are white in here as well, with what you a rather well done scene of Italy going around the three walls not covered with glass.
>There are also twelve wooden tables all covered with the same white linen as well as salt, pepper, and what you are guessing is olive oil.
>At one of these tables is a bespectacled girl in a white blouse and a frilly, lime green skirt that you recognize instantly.
"Hey! Been waiting long?"
>"No, not long at all!" She says smiling as you quickly check your phone and sit down opposite her.
>You are actually about 10 minutes early yourself.
>Well, at least she doesn't have problems being punctual, which is more than you can say for Gilda.
"You look nice."
>"Oh! U-um, thanks. You look nice too." She says, blushing.
>You pick up your menu and scan through it.
>Even though the menu contains things like spaghetti and calzones, it's clear the restaurant's real trademark is the pizzas, which take a whole page of the menu by themselves.
>You suggest the "Bambino Special", which has pepperoni, Canadian bacon, Italian sausage, and a whole bunch of other things that you don't care about having read the first three, and Scribble Dee agrees that it sounds delicious.
>Looking at the prices, you see that a pizza big enough to feed both of you only costs about $18, much less than you expected.
>Well, might as well splurge a little.
 
>You flip to the back of the menu and look at the non-alcoholic drink list.
>Except for the more obvious ones like milk and the various sodas, you can't make head nor tails of these drink names.
>"Apello"? "Innocent Passion"? The fuck is this.
"Hey, Any of these good?"
>"Oh!" Scribble Dee pipes up happily, "You should try the tropical strawberry! It's my favorite!"
"Ah, is that what you are going to have?"
>"I-I'm just going to stick with water..."
"Are you sure? I'm buying so-"
>"Ah!" Scribble Dee blurts out, waving her hands in the air slightly, "Y-you don't have to do that, we can split-"
"I insist."
>The unintentional finality of your statement makes Scribble Dee cease talking, but she clearly wants to say something. She keeps looking nervously up at you and then turning away.
>During one of these moments a waiter steps up.
>"Are you ready to order?"
"A large Bambino Special, and two Tropical Strawberries please."
>Scribble Dee watches helplessly as the Waiter jots this down and walks away with a thank you, taking the menus.
>"You didn't have to do that..." She says, looking down at her plate.
>The both of you sit in silence for a few minutes until the drinks arrive.
>It's a thick red liquid topped with whipped cream and bits of bananas, mangoes, and pineapple.
>You take a sip out of the straw sitting in the drink, and find it far, far too sweet for your taste. It's more like an overly syruped smoothie.
>You look up at Scribble Dee to see her holding the drink delicately in her hands.
>She is drinking it slowly with her eyes closed and smiling, clearly savoring the flavor.
>You never realized how long her eyelashes are. God, she really is a cutie.
>It's at this point you were glad you followed Gilda's advice.
 
>Scribble Dee's eyes flutter open, and seeing you looking at her she says embarrassed, "Is something wrong?"
>Opps, caught in the act.
"Uh, no. You are err... I know I said this already, but you are really cute."
>This seems to illicit a shy smile from her.
>That's probably good, but you feel a bit awkward about the way that came out.
>Time to change the subject. Fuck, what do people talk about.
>Gilda's voice pops into your head, "Worse comes to worst just talk to her about nerdy shit."
>You know she's a nerd, but she may not be the same kind of nerd as you are.
"So uh, what do you do for fun?"
>yeah that will do for now.
>Her face suddenly flushes again for a reason you don't understand. Did you ask something bad?
>"I-I-I read and play video games and-"
>There's your chance!
"Oh! What games do you play?"
>For unknown reasons, a look of relief goes through her face.
>Her taste is surprisingly similar to yours, though what she likes is a bit more mainstream, and in addition she seems to not have beaten too many of the games she has played. You even suggest some titles, and she in turn suggest some for you.
>Your discussion goes from video games, to music, to funny internet things, to Hyperspace Hyperwars and other tabletop games.
>Your talk is only interrupted by the arrival of the pizza. Which in contrast to your mostly untouched smoothie, is quite delicious.
>You eat almost half of the pizza by yourself before Scribble gets past her second piece.
>Leaning back and trying to fight off your food coma, you look to see Scribble Dee looking at you smiling and nibbling her half eaten pizza slice.
>"You like the pizza?" She says, giggling.
>If this were Gilda, you would burp in appreciation, but instead you just agree with her statement.
>As if she saw what you thought, Scribble Dee asks,
>"Um... If you don't mind me asking, how did Gilda and you become friends? You just seem so... So nice..."
 
"Gilda is nice, too." you say quickly.
>You say this knowing that both of you have been bullied by Gilda, but it's still true despite that.
>And that's despite the problem that you don't want to reveal how you became friends.
>First off, you are pretty sure that telling her the you have fucked someone you told her was "just a friend" isn't a good thing.
>Second, Scribble seems to have a certain (albeit justified) idea of the kind of person Gilda is, and you don't want to make it worse by implying she may be a... Shall we say "woman of loose morals".
>And lastly and most obviously, because of some certain compromising pictures Mrs. C has of you.
>"I-I didn't mean to- I just-" Scribble Dee stammers out, "I'm sorry, forget it... I didn't mean to offend you..."
>You sit in silence for a few seconds.
"Gilda just... Needs a friend, alright? She can be mean and cruel, but she can be pleasant as well."
>Scribble Dee looks up at you hesitantly and then nods, still looking down.
>Her head darts up, and seeming as if she is trying to force it all out quickly she says, "She isn't making you do bad things is she? She's done a lot of the pranks hasn't she? Everyone... E-everyone knows... I mean everyone thinks it's her. It's her isn't it?"
>You don't answer right away, which is clear is enough for her to guess the worst.
"Look." You say, leaning forward, "Gilda is my friend. One of the only friends I've really ever had. If you aren't okay with that then let me know now and I'll go."
>Scribble looks tears up slightly and says, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I just don't want you to get in trouble..."
>You lean back on your chair, rubbing your temple with one of your hands.
>Gilda wouldn't do anything bad enough to land you in serious trouble, you know that.
>Even as you think that, you remember one of the few things about her past that she has actually revealed to you. The fact that she was saved from being arrested by Mrs. C.
 
>You put it out of your mind. That was the old Gilda. She's better now. You have to believe that.
>No, you DO believe that.
"Let me introduce you to Gilda."
>Scribble Dee's eyes go wide with alarm and worry.
"Trust me you'll like her! I mean, if it weren't for her I probably wouldn't even have had the courage to ask you out on a date!"
>"Really...?" She says.
>Gilda also said she was below your league, but you decide to leave that part out.
>"O-okay... I'll meet her..." Scribble Dee says.
>Shortly after this, Scribble's phone goes off. Apparently it's an alarm to indicate it's close to her curfew, and that she needs to go back.
>You pop your phone out and look at the time, and are shocked to find it is pretty late.
>Considering the hour, and after finding out that her house is nearby, you decide it would be gentlemanly to walk Scribble home.
>You do this in silence except for a few quick comments about the chilliness of the night and the way the moon looks.
>When you get to the door she turns around and says, "I had a wonderful time, Anon. I hope we can do it again sometime!"
"Yeah! Of course!"
>"G-good night, see you at school tomorrow."
>She beams at you, and then walks in the door.
>You smile yourself, and make your way back home.
>By the time you get back and endure the familial ribbing about your date, it's pretty late at night.
>Finally getting to your upstairs bedroom, you fall on your bed, only to be forced to stand back up when you hear a knock.
>Opening the door, you see your dad.
"What? Oh, you want the polo shirt back?"
>"Not exactly..." He says, and then looks over his shoulder before pushing a bag from the nearby convenience store in your chest.
>"Don't tell your mom." He says, walking off.
>You open the bag and let out a snort of laughter.
>It's a one hundred count box of condoms.
>Bit too late for that, you think to yourself.
 
[One more update and then this story is done. Not done yet with this premise, but I might move over to the fingerbang threads now. This thread has been on life support too long. Like I said, I can't support it myself.]
 
>"So how'd your date go?" Gilda says, cornering you outside the school before class on Monday.
"Good, i think?"
>"The shit does that mean. You fucked her didn't you?"
"No, of course not. I really doubt she's that kind of girl. Speaking of which, you are going to be seeing a lot more of Scribble Dee. I told her I'd introduce you."
>"Ugh, come on man. Rule #1, you don't make friends with your conquests. It just makes the inevitable break up that much harder."
"What makes you think we will 'inevitably' break up?" You say, your anger rising.
>"Well I mean, you are just trying to fuck her right? Let's forget why you would go after her in the first place. Why would you stay with someone like Scribble Dee after that? You expect her to be that amazing?"
"What?"
>And then something clicks in your head.
"You were serious about the whole 'fuckbuddy' thing? I thought you were just teasing me. I was looking for a girlfriend, not that sex wouldn't also have been nice."
>"Wait, but..." Gilda says, looking alarmed. You see her eyes dart unfocused, as if she is trying to remember something. "You were looking for an honest to god girlfriend?"
"Yeah, why does that matter?"
>Gilda seems to freeze for a second, and then says, "No, it doesn't."
"Well then what's the problem?"
>"Nothing. So uh, is she nice?"
 
~~~~~~~~
 
>Gilda doesn't even listen to half of the things Anon tells her.
>All she can think is that It doesn't matter.
>...But that for some reason she can't understand, it matter to her.
>They both make it to first period, and Gilda just stares out the window.
>"So what if Anon wants to date some dork. So what if he fucks her?" She finds herself thinking.
>Gilda then bites her lip and thinks, "Damnit, I hope Chryssie is going to be in the mood today."
 
~~~~~~~~
 
"I had a wonderful time, Anon. I hope we can do it again sometime!"
>"Yeah! Of course!"
"G-good night, see you at school tomorrow."
>The orange haired girl then smiles and walks into her house and closes the door.
>After quickly recounting her date to her excited mother, Scribble Dee walks upstairs to her room, stopping only at the bathroom to get ready for bed.
>Her bedroom is what you might expect of a girl her age and personality.
>A desk and a large shelving unit so crammed with books that some had to be put on the dresser near her bed, and still more lay on the floor.
>>A small TV sits on the nightstand, with a few games and systems strewn around it.
>Her bed is simple, but covered in pillows and stuffed animals.
>The corner walls around her sleeping area are covered in nerdy posters, her favorite being a detailed depiction of the periodic table of elements.
>Scribble Dee sits on her bed, and disrobes quickly, storing her glasses in a nearby case. She grabs for her jammies, but stops halfway and after letting her hand hover for a second, pulls it back.
>She lays down naked and crawls under the sheets, grabbing one of her favorite stuffed animals in the process. A brown teddy bear almost half her size named Zeke. >She hugs it tightly.
>Scribble Dee plays through the question that scared her the most during the date, even more than any of the ones she asked Anon about Gilda.
>"So uh, what do you do for fun?"
>If Anon knew. If she only knew what kind of things she did for fun, what kind of things she wanted to do...
>Her hands move slowly, one downwards, and the other towards her breast.
>...He would think there was something wrong with her. That she was a freak.
>She feels herself, she's already slick.
>She pinches her breast. Hard.
>She bites Zeke to keep from crying out.
>Not releasing her breast, she starts moving her other hand.
 
THE END.