Scott thought it was funny. Really, he didn't think I would actually go through with it. Zap! was a girl's game. A middle school girl's game at that. Back in those days, I had been kissed by several girls who had looked before the appointed time. It had been absolutely sticky, for those girls wore thick layers of lip-gloss flavored cherry, not that that has changed. Zap! hadn't crossed my mind since then, though.
But while we, Scott and I, were goofing off in Pre-Calc, he whipped out a borrowed pen from Allison. It was a neon pink sparkle gel pen. Why he would have borrowed it is beyond me. I was zoned out as he wrote on my hand, the ballpoint jabbing uncomfortably. Outside the window was a bright day, mocking me with all its wonderfulness and chirping birds. It was good thing it was a Friday and that the weekend was looking clear. It I didn't go outside soon, I would combust and splatter onto the bland, starch, white walls of the high school Pre-Calc room. I don't think the teacher would be very happy about that, or the janitor for that matter.
After Scott was done with whatever he was doing, he flipped my hand back over and laughed to himself. "Zap, Stiles," he whispered to me. I blinked steadily before staring at the back of my hand. The fluorescent light glared at me, reflecting off of the glitter and pinkness that was now written on my hand.
'Zap!' read the first line in Scott's scribbles. Under that was the time '3:08.' Rolling my eyes, I don't let the game get to me. Why would I? Who could he have possibly wanted me to kiss? There were only a few select people Scott even thought about, let alone would allow me to kiss. Allison, Jackson, Allison; Lydia, Allison, Danny; Allison, the Alpha, Allison, did I mention Allison? I don't think I did.
My insides quaked at the small hope that it could be Lydia written in pink gel pen. But Scott wouldn't choose someone so obvious, would he? I mean, he was Scott for Pete's sake. He could have written Jackson's or Danny's name for the hell of it.
Oh God, I hope he didn't.
The day passed by recklessly, but uneventful. I had felt nervous the entire afternoon. My heart pounded the entire day, my hands sweaty and gross. I was sure that the name had probably washed off from my excess bodily fluids but was too much of a wimp to ask someone to check for me. During lunch my hands were shaking, scared to move in case I saw a peek of the name on accident. In the end, I didn't eat, my stomach rumbled in questioning. Instantly, I ignored it and asked the one question that needed an answer, "Who could it be?"
I'd have to get into Scott's head to know that …. And I'd rather not. He probably thought about Allison … all day. Like, naked or something.
Grumbling incoherent threats under my breath, I stretch my fingers out. Small cracking noises were heard. Scott glances over and smirks at my irritated face. They had been painfully in a fist for the first four hours of the day.
"I hate you," comes my annoyed voice.
"Love you, too, Stiles," replies Scott as he walks into his last hour. We didn't have it together. Instead P.E. was my last hour, one that I dreaded most. I had never been one for physical activities. My dad had always referred to my athletic abilities as "pointlessly there." Two left feet, that's what I have. It didn't help that I had lunch before it, either. I'd probably thrown up four times already this year.
Due to it being a Friday, we played pointless games such as Scatter Ball and Capture the Flag. I could play Scatter Ball fine, my dodging skills were topnotch. Capture the Flag, though, was about speed and agility. If I, Stiles Stilinski, was anything, it was not those two things. Lydia, as she tripped multiple times over the cone holding the flag, even tagged a few people. I, on the other hand, was the one no one bothered to try and get out of jail. In fact, my butt was planted to the floor the entire time. Now that I think about it, I was never tagged in the first place. It's a wonder how my grade is above Scott's who is now winning the game. But that didn't surprise me, he always won nowadays. What did surprise me, though, was that, during this 72 minute block of time, I had somehow completely forgotten about the Zap! on the my hand.
When did I remember? you may be wondering.
When I saw the reflection of it in the locker room mirror … 1 minute before 3:08.
What did it say? you may be screaming at the screen.
Author's Note: *blink* I really like this one. Zap! is and was always really fun. This is a two-shot … um, done? Yeah, done.