[insert sound of evil cackling]

Soooo, if anyone read my April 13 post with the little mini-story-type-thingies, you'll have seen the one about the obnoxious girl who flings herself on the narrator's friend constantly. (What? You haven't read them yet? Read them! And comment! Please?) I based the story on a girl at my school with a locker near me. Curse you, alphabetical arrangement! *shakes fist angrily*

Anyway, I saw the girl at school last week. It was certainly entertaining... for me, at least. >:) So here's a few stats on the story:

Story: The girl has pretty much zero knowledge of my existence.
Reality: True. I know her name- duh, how could I not? She's even louder than me- but she doesn't know mine.

Story: Her locker is right near mine.
Reality: True. Like I said before, we're arranged alphabetically, which is quite unfortunate.

Story: She throws herself all over the narrator's (my) friend.
Reality: Nope. I had two very specific people in mind when I wrote the story. I was trying to imagine how they'd react to each other, and I think I got that pretty well.

Story: Seems like I (the narrator) kind of have a thing for my guy friend.
Reality: FALSE!! I added that bit to the story to make it a little more dramatic. In real life, we're just really good friends. (Seriously. I promise.) Someone suggested that he likes me and I yelled "Ahh! That's like incest or something!" We're not actually related, but we've known each other for a super long time, so we might as well be.

To elaborate on the bit about the two people who inspired the story: Yes, there IS a girl who's exactly like the one in the story. Only difference: I'm pretty sure she doesn't know my friend exists, either. (Honestly, it's not a bad thing for either of us.) Besides that, I had two very specific people I thought of, and I tried to think of how they would react if they were ever in that situation.

And the girl throws herself all over other guys, but not my friend (re: doesn't know he exists). Believe me, I see her every single day. Shrieking obnoxiously and cussing at the top of her lungs and running around in shorts so tiny I'm stunned the admins haven't descended on her for dress code yet. (Believe it or not, I'm not her biggest fan. Hurr hurr.) I swear someday she's going to be walking around in those tiny shorts and that tiny shirt and Uggs (why does she wear fuzzy boots with short shorts? Anyone knows why, PLEASE let me know) and some weirdo will come creep on her and she won't know what to do except scream and cuss.

Wait, that's a little harsh. Maybe she'll think to run away. Not sure, though, because a typical sentence is something like "Ohmigaawwd, the party was so [expletive] fuuun! Like, Brett was like, so weird that night, and I was like 'Holy [expletive], Brett! What the [expletive] is [expletive] wrong with you?' And-- oh, [expletive]! I forgot my [expletive] English binder! [expletive]! I hate my [expletive] English class anyway!" It's like, f-bombs galore, plus a bunch of other words that I didn't even know existed. Thanks, darling! You taught me some fun new words today! (My sarcasm hand is raised.)

Oh, almost forgot. The other day, she was standing there and I kicked my locker shut really hard. I saw her glance over for a second, so I glared at her. Then I smiled evilly and walked away. *wins*