Me being weird. Again.
Disclaimer: Uh...maybe? Wait...just received word...nope.
Hoagie preferred pencils. A simple fact, with simple reasons behind it. Pencil scratches could be erased, and they didn't make such a mess. Sure, they needed to be sharpened if they were traditional, but it was a small setback where he was concerned. He usually used mechanical anyway. Hoagie was among the few that loathed pens with smoldering passion. Most teachers were sympathetic to this and allowed use of graphite. Of course, there was always the teacher that enjoyed torturing his students with essays that were required to be inked. Hoagie had one such teacher, a sadistic man of graying forties, and his class was pure hell for the teenage pilot, as he was very much prone to mistakes in wording, spelling, and grammar.
He threw down his third pen in anger. Hoagie always gripped the plastic tube too hard, or pressed the point with too much force, and it, without fail, exploded in his hand, turning his fingers a sticky, sickly, purplish-black. His paper on the Civil War was stained and smeared beyond salvation and he looked at it in despair, running a hand through his auburn locks, unknowingly streaking them ebony. He heard a chuckle from behind him and Hoagie whirled around in his desk chair to find his best friend sitting on his sky colored bedspread. Her stealthy ways never surprised him, though the sudden appearances were a little disconcerting.
"Again?" Abby asked, knowing about his aversion to pens. He nodded, sighing hopelessly.
"I don't know what I'm going to do. It's gotta be turned in tomorrow and I've had to re-write it twice!" he cried, crumpling the notebook paper and tossing it at his overflowing waste bin. Abby watched its arc and descent to the floor before looking at her friend with a sly grin.
"Then it's a good thing Abby's got your back." With these cryptic words, she tossed at him a pencil-like object. "Ya ain't the only one who can invent clever junk, ya know." Hoagie inspected the wooden stick with interest before sending her a questioning look.
She elaborated, obviously proud of her work. "Looks like a pencil, right?" He nodded. "It ain't. Got an ink tube in it that'll erase. And it's twice as thick as any dime-store utensil." She shot him a smug grin. "You're welcome."
"Abs, you're amazing, you know that, right?" he said with a sigh of relief. He'd show that nasty Mr. Wimbleton that his essays wouldn't scare him so easily.
Abby grinned. "'Course Abby knows. Common knowledge, Hoags. Goes along with not puttin' a red sock in with the white laundry."
That was really, really weird. I'm sort of proud of it though. Twas fun. Review?
WHOA! This marks my 25th story! GO ME!