The school bell had just rung and I rushed out of 6th
period. Tripping over the stairs I reached the bottom and walked, slowly, to
the ice-cream machine with two of my friends.
“Hey, Marcy, can you by me an ice-cream?” I said sweetly,
holding my hands together in front of me and rocking back and forth on my
heels.
“Hell no!” she exclaimed, straightening out a crinkly dollar
bill. Next to her my friend, Arabelle, chuckled.
“Fine,” I pouted as Marcy got a quarter out of her back
pocket, “get a Popsicle and let me get a piece.”
“Whatever,” she shrugged and inserted her money. Looking at
all the Popsicle's in the machine she pressed a number and letter corresponding
to her ice-cream choice. As I watch the machine get her ice-cold, yummy goodness
I realized that she got a drumstick. Everything else in the machine was a Popsicle
and this chick decides to get a frickin’ drumstick.
“I hate you!” I exclaim laughing. Marcy unwraps her
drumstick and smiles at me.
“Get some of the peanuts at the top.”
“Fine,” when she finishes unwrapping it she held the
drumstick out to me and Arabelle, allowing each us to get a piece of peanut. Trying,
I failed at getting a good piece and raised a tiny nibble to my lips.
“This is so going against Weight Watchers,” I say.
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