An hour and ten minutes left of class. Videl turned away from her watch and sighed, disappointed in the lack of police activity that might have spared her this boredom in favor of mopping the proverbial floor with criminals' faces. But then, ever since the defeat of Majin Buu, things had been remarkably peaceful. The streets of Satan City had since been almost completely crime-free, a fact for which Videl was thankful most of the time. Except for now.
The substitute teacher was droning on at the front of the class, reading word for word from a review of previous lessons prepared by their absent calculus teacher. Mr. Matticks obviously refused to entrust to a lowly sub the task of teaching anything new.
The class was consequently stewing in a quagmire of listlessness, and Videl was slowly dying after having tried (valiantly, in her opinion) to stay awake for the past twenty minutes. If she'd known Mr. Matticks would get food poisoning and assign them a "lesson" as painful as this in the morning, she wouldn't have had that late-night training session yesterday. Sharpner was already out cold with a notebook over his face and Erasa was painting her nails beside her. The fumes from her nail polish were not helping Videl's losing battle against unconsciousness at all.
She looked to her left.
Gohan was studiously taking notes in his neat, immaculate handwriting, even though the lesson currently being covered had already been taught several days ago. Videl shook her head. How was it possible that this insanely-powerful boy—who had literally blown away one of the greatest threats to mankind before his teens—could still be so bookish and loveable?
Blinking, Videl turned her attention to her own unopened notebook and blamed her previous thoughts on the delirium of a sleep-deprived mind. The black speckles on the cover distracted her for all of five seconds before her eyes drifted back to Gohan's hand moving across his paper. He now sat directly on Videl's left, at the end of their row in the back, while Erasa sat next to Sharpner on Videl's right. This new seating arrangement had been tacitly agreed upon the day Gohan returned to school after the World Martial Arts Tournament, pounced on Erasa, and gaped at incredulously by a speechless Sharpner. She and Gohan hadn't heard the end of it for days, but they bore the whispered rumors with minimal embarrassment-fueled eruptions. And there were many rumors.
(Few of which they'd denied.)
Every now and then, Gohan would pause to brush some shreds of used eraser off his paper, which often then landed on her portion of the row's long, shared desk. Then he would continue writing, appearing completely focused on his task except for the presence of a page of doodles he failed to completely hide beneath his notes. So, Videl smirked, he was bored too after all. Eyelids drooping, her eyes roamed up his arm to his shoulder. Even under that starchy vest, it seemed an inviting place to rest one's weary head. So, again citing sleep deprivation for her next actions, she moved her chair as far as it could go before her legs hit the supports of the desk to her left. She huffed.
"Scoot over," she hissed, and poked Gohan in the arm.
"Sorry," he muttered, thinking he was in her way somehow. He inched his chair away from her and kept scribbling. Videl rolled her eyes.
"The other way," she said. She poked him again. "I need a pillow."
"Huh?" He finally looked at her. His look of confusion might have been amusing and/or adorable to her if she wasn't completely serious. Which she was.
"You know we've learned all this already," she explained, suspecting her potential pillow would be more willing to cooperate if she did. "The desks are too hard and I'll have a crick in my neck by the end of the period." But he just stared.
"…You shouldn't be sleeping in class, Videl."
"And you should be paying attention." Videl snorted exasperatedly when he immediately turned back to face the sub. "Tch, as if you need to, Gohan. You could probably teach the lesson better than h-h-him." The end of her sentence was engulfed in a yawn that she put very little effort into stifling.
"Videl…" She gave no reply but to start poking him again. Repeatedly. "That hurts…"
"Just shut up and scoot over," she commanded. She would by no means tolerate a pity plea from someone who routinely lets his brother throw fist-sized projectiles at him fast enough to pierce mountains. He gave her a wounded-puppy look nevertheless. "I won't bite, I promise."
"I…" He looked around. The rest of the class was either passing notes, asleep, or in Erasa's case, applying a second coat of hot pink nail polish. Gohan then looked back at the girl beside him, who was staring at him half-pleadingly, half-demanding him to do as she says. He felt an odd sense of déjà vu and blinked away the memory of those same blue eyes glaring at him from between locks of hair that had once been long and put into pigtails.
Videl saw the moment when he broke, completely without the aid of the long-suffering sigh he gave when he did. He moved to his right, trying his best not to scrape the legs of his chair against the ground, and rearranged his papers until he could write at an angle that put his shoulder within her reach. He even leaned a little, to make up for their height difference. She beamed at him.
"…Thank you," she sighed, with her ear against his shoulder. He just kept writing, taking care not to jostle her, and 'hmm'ed when she closed her eyes.
Erasa squealed loudly enough to bring Sharpner jolting out of his chair when she finally looked up at the end of class.
Calculus teacher's name: "Mr. Mather Matticks" hurhur XD