You're A Fig Newton In My Imagination

What Alexa's friend Ventriloquist really ventriloquized on our way back from Jamba Juice was, of course, "You're a figment of my imagination." Saying things without opening her mouth, we were teasing her, could result in interesting situations if she does it around the guy she likes, but who hasn't yet met her: Necker's long-haired, t-shirted friend, Dan.

Ventri, Alexa, and I have the same fourth-period lunch period and fifth-period gym class, which yesterday walked to Jamba Juice. We make a little trio of silent-sophomore fanciers: Ventri likes Dan, Alexa's rather cozy with raven guy (Greg), and there's me and...

It's spelled Zach, and he can, actually, talk. For, like, twenty minutes, including the long pauses spent apple-eating/gazing into space. He's shy, as Alexa said when she described him as "like a poor, lost puppy", and skittish, as Brittany intended to say when she described him as "skiddish". He doesn't tend to look people in the eye, he figured out my name, and he plays bass guitar. Yep. What French Boy?

Then sixth period I went and got myself hit in the face with a phosphorescent baseball. All I had was a headache, but really, I'd spent all day in such a good mood that a black eye would have been pretty funny.

Oh when I woke up tonight I said I
I'm gonna make somebody love me
I'm gonna make somebody love me
And now I know, now I know, now I know
I know that it's you
You're lucky, lucky
You're so lucky!
- Franz Ferdinand, "Do You Want To"