Dib grinned as Zim got himself into another uncomfortable position. Hi-skool health class was completely useless, as far as Dib was concerned, but then there was Zim. Health had been the class where he was prepared to prove to everyone the horrible alien menace that he was, by his lack of knowledge on the subject of Human anatomy. Much to Dib's chagrin, Zim acted better then he had hoped, with a basic knowledge on the Human body. It was not that Dib did not think Zim knew anything about it, he had just hoped that if Zim labeled enough things wrong someone would start to wonder. And he did. He labeled enough things wrong that Dib tried his hardest to stifle his laughter while Zim heed and hawed over his situation. The rest of the class on the other hand did not try to hide it at all. Everyone laughed when Zim said... well, something instead of something else.
Zim did not hide his irritation.
"Laugh now, you filthy, fellow classmates!" he shouted over their laughter. "For you can only laugh so long, before your... before your stomach hurts."
Zita fell out of her chair. The stomach hurting overcame her first.
Zim sat down in his chair, fuming. Dib turned his face towards the window while he finished his chuckling. As humorous as it was, Zim still had not given him the edge to the perfect proof yet. The proof no one could deny. Dib swore he would get it soon. Or, at least someday.
"Now, now, students," the health teacher tapped a ruler on the desk. She had a small smile on her face as well, but in trying to be fair to Zim, she quieted the class. "We need to continue with our reading. We don't want to have Christmas break homework like we did for Thanksgiving. Open your-"
The phone rang, cutting off her sentence. She turned her head over to the corner where the phone was, her raven black hair swishing in it's ponytail. A few people in the back of the class giggled, causing everyone else to start snickering. Zim looked daggers at the entire classroom as Miss Olegario picked up the classroom phone. She put up one finger and the class was silent again.
Dib was very curious as Miss Olegario's face fell. Whatever she had heard on the phone was bad. She hung it up, her face stone still.
"Dib, you are wanted in the office," she said, smoothly.
Jeers came from the others, especially Zim, as they named off whom he had offended with his paranormal antics this time. Dib was scared as Miss Olegario cut them off sharply, a contrast from the normally cheerful individual.
"Take your bag with you Dib," she told him softly as he stood up.
Zim sneered as the Dib-stink walked by his seat. The Dib threw some mechanical pencil lead in his eye. Zim hissed as he pulled it out of his contact. It hurt, but he would have to deal with that until lunch.
Today was a horrible day! Zim could not think of a worse one since last week's incident in His-stories class when he dragged in one of Irk's past references with war into his essay and had to redo it quickly before turning it in in one minute. He needed five for a five paged report in this, English. The Dib-monster saw the whole thing and had laughed behind his own perfect paper. Oh, how he would pay!
The worst thing about Zim's senior year was that he had every single bloody class with that Dib! (Bloody was something he learned from watching the BBC) He wished there was something that he could have done about it, but he was afraid that if he distanced himself to far away from the worm-baby that he might pull something off behind his back. This way he could keep a good eye on him and see whether or not he was going to try to expose him.
In this, health class, with the goody-two-shoes teacher, he found it a bit easier to learn more about Human behavior. Miss Olegario accepted to help him after school and while he pretended to know nothing about the homework he asked his questions. She had a major in psychology, so he could ask random questions and see what the majority of people would do. And she just thought that he was imaginative and funny! Ha! When he took over the earth, he would... not let her know it was him, for she had stuck up for him and even though an Invader needs no one, teachers who told off the other students was always a good thing to have.
"Page 264," she said seriously. Zim felt a chill go up his spine as the other students also were silent and confused. Zim narrowed his eyes at the page as he looked over at the phone. Was whatever the Dib-stink did really that bad?
Between dread and curiosity, Dib found himself in front of the office door, barely remembering wandering down the hall. He opened the door and strode up to the front desk. The secretary looked at him sadly and gestured him into the Principle's office.
The Principle's office did not frighten him. They often dragged him in there to make him reconsider the school psychiatrist. What frightened him was someone being sad while looking at him. For him.
"Come in, Dib," said Principle Kennedy. He stood up, as well as the other three people in the room. Two, Dib recognized from his father's labs. The other Dib did not recognize. He was dressed up in a black suit and his face showed the least emotion then anyone else.
"This is Dib," Mr. Kennedy said to the man. "His sister Gaz is with the sophomore group that went on the Graphics Designs field trip."
"Hello Dib," the man put his hand out. "My name is Mr. Fortif."
"Nice to meet you," Dib said, unsure, shaking his hand. The voice sounded somewhat familiar, but Dib knew he was imagining it.
"Dib," one of the scientists, Karst, said. "Please, take a seat."
"What's this about?" Dib asked, but sat down as the scientist gestured at the chair again.
"There was a mishap in the lab," the other scientist, he was pretty sure it was Stantend, said. "A wrong mixture. Dib, I am afraid-"
Gaz pressed the buttons down, tearing apart another enemy as her small 3D figure moved across the screen.
"Time to move on," her teacher repeated, pausing the game by pressing a button in front of Gaz and then stalking off. Gaz snorted and whipped out her GS4, starting that up as she turned to follow the rest of her peers.
"Before you go miss," their tour guide for the games section called out to her. Gaz felt her temper rising again. First she was not allowed to finish the basics on the game design screen, now someone else wanted to bother her. She stopped and lowered her Game Slave a tiny bit.
"What?" she asked as the woman came up to her.
The young adult paused at the suppressed anger in her voice, but not in fear. A tiny bit of irritation showed on her face but she appeared to push it away. "I saw how you were starting your own design there on the open designers Crossed Waters."
"Yeah?" Gaz rose an eyebrow. She really wished that this person would get over with what she was saying so that she could leave. In fact, if she did not get down to the point soon, Gaz would leave whether it was important or not.
"Don't be so impatient," the dark-skinned girl scowled. "I was just going to suggest taking a few classes here."
"Classes?" she had not snagged Gaz's interest, but since she had got to the point, she decided to hear her out.
"I am one of the newest recruits here," she said. "Picked out of my class for being graphic savvy. But you could probably fit in here perfectly, after nearly completing a simple game design in a few minutes."
"Sure..." Gaz put down her GS4. "I don't think-"
"You're like me," the girl had a wry smirk on her face. "And that's not a good thing. Don't worry, they'll leave you alone. Most of the time. In fact, if you tell them you work better with no one around, you pretty much have a locked door, from the inside."
"Really?" Gaz put out her full attention then. It sounded too good to be true. Games all day and practically no one bothering her. She narrowed her eyes. "What's the catch here?"
"What I'm stuck with," the girl put one hand on her hip. "Touring for two months. But that is it. Though sometimes you do have to talk to the other people that are in the project. It sucks, but there isn't much I can do about it."
"Tell me about it," Gaz grinned.
"Name's Sandra," the frizzy black haired one said, but she did not put out her hand.
"Gaz," Gaz replied, impressed with the lack of actual contact.
"Here's the number for my section," Sandra handed the card for this building over. "Tell them to put you in contact with me if you're serious Gaz."
"Sure, whatever," Gaz took the card and Sandra started to walk off. Sanctuary from people, she felt like she was going to her designated place in Hell. She could not wait.
"Oh," Sandra turned back. "You have to be able to say that you can get your own ride to work and class when you make your schedule. But we can go over details later."
"Yeah," Gaz nodded, knowing she could get her Dad to plan out a car to come here. She left the room, following after her class.
The bus made it's rounds, dropping Gaz off in front of her house. Happy on the inside that she was able to escape her soon-to-be-dead-if-they-did-not-stop-bothering-her-peers, she jumped off still playing her game as she walked into the house.
"Gaz," she heard the sound of her brother over the now melodious and not really beeping music of the Game Slave. "We need to talk."
He sounded serious, so she knew he was about to ask her for something to help him with his stupid paranormal studies.
"Later," she told him. "Maybe."
"No, Gaz," he grabbed a hold of her shoulder, a very bold move for him. "Now, this is important."
"No, I don't think it is," she turned towards him, glaring. "Now get your hand off of me this instant Dib. Before I hurt you."
"It's about... Dad."
"What, is he not coming home for Christmas? Like he did for Thanksgiving?" she sighed, irritated, finally turning towards him. Despite the fact he was never home, she did love her father. Maybe it was because he was not there and the small bit she could remember of their quality time he did not annoy her. She paused as she noticed that Dib had been crying. It did not seem to be the crying that he did when he failed to capture Zim, or when the sea monster in the nearby lake tried to maul him.
"Dad's dead Gaz," he choked.
"What?" she growled, hoping that he would realize how painfully he was going to die for his joke.
Dib bit his lip and continued. "One of... one of the scientists brought a chemical into the... wrong part of the lab. It caught on... on to the fumes in the air and- one of the machines blew-- he's dead..."
"No he's not," she refused to believe it and her tone was to tell him that he was so dead.
"I-I saw his body."
She barely felt the Game Slave in her hand drop to the ground.
Gaz could not think. From her mind, she could not make her body react, so what happened was a subconscious reaction from her.
"You're lying!" she shrieked at him.
"No Gaz," he shook his head. "I swear to you I'm-"
"Liar!" she punched him in the chest, which made him wince, but overall did less damage then she had hoped for. Screaming, she hit him in the shoulders and stomach. Dib caught her blows when she started getting near his face. She had never noticed how strong he had gotten from all of his chasing around of random things. But he was not strong enough, as she yanked her left fist out of his hand and nailed him on the chin. He only grasped her by the shoulders.
"Then bring him back!" she yelled at him, the tears running freely down her face. "Bring him back like you tried to do for Mom! Do it!"
"I can't," he told her, and she was vaguely aware of someone patting her hair, something that Dad did.
"Do it!" she finally realized that she had broke down. They were both on the ground, her fists now pounding on his lap, her head bowed so he could not see it anymore.
"Remember what happened last time Gaz."
"I don't CARE!" she hollered.
He did not respond and Gaz managed to get a hold of herself. She pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. She averted her eyes from looking at Dib. She did not want to know what he thought of her from her outburst. She was not going to say she was sorry for it either.
"He's... really dead," she managed to put out a monotone voice, or at least as close to one as she was going to get. From the corner of her eye, she saw that he nodded.
She got up and went up the stairs slowly, waiting for Dad to come through the door and apologize for leaving a robot that looked just like him in the lab. She reached her room and shut the door. She wanted to be able to tell him about Sandra and the position at GrafixGames.
The front door stayed closed.
Like? Please respond. If so, I have a few more chapters of this already finished.
I apologize to all and any Membrane fans who read this, I really didn't like killing him off in the first chapter either.