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"So before we solve the problem on the E-board," said the Maths teacher, Mrs Mcformula, in the Geometry class, "who can remind me the formula of a cone?"Anderson and Thomas threw their hands up, in unison.All eyes fell on Thomas. Anderson was equally surprised, so he lowered his hand so it could be just Thomas' left.Mrs Mcformula looked down her nose and did a quick assessment on Thomas, split-second."Ah-yes, The Bully Beater. Go ahead please."The class chuckled.Thomas ignored this, and said: "It is one over three pie r square h (⅓πr²h)."Marvelous!" exclaimed the teacher, she looked at Anderson from the corner of her eyes, seeing his pleased reaction, felt more at ease.Harry smiled. So he had a brain after all!The rest of the class progressed well, with Anderson, Harrison and Thomas as limelights; answering all the difficult questions.Harrison had made a resolve; he wasn't going to give up on Thomas. This Mr Hardington was going to be his new buddy (not replacing Simpson, of course), come what may.Jocelyn ran her hand through the thick forest on her head. She'd never felt less uncomfortable with herself (appearance) like she did now. She brought out the lip gloss she'd snucked into her bag earlier that day at home.Acknowledging the fact that there was a mutual infatuation between Andy and her brought her the best feeling conceivably - with it's inconveniences."I'm a girl," she whispered to herself. "I've got the hypnotism; but darn! isn't he so cute?" Jocelyn let out a deep breath.After applying some of the gloss to her lips, she caressed them by rubbing both lips against each other, forward and backward.Looking around the restroom, she sighed. It was as though she were expecting to see something. Her eyelashes flapped, meticulously, over her eyes, as she catwalked about the room, eyes fixed to the mirror. Her head wondered from one thought to the other.Just then, the fears popped up. She'd know Andy all her life, literally. He'd never ha
Tom and Harry were going out of class, together. They discussed as they advanced to the locker room. Classes were over. Surprisingly, Tom was very friendly. "See, I'm sorry for how I'd exploded on you, earlier." Harry waved it off. He liked the sound of sincerity he thought he was hearing. "Naw, I understand. We all have our sensitive spots." Wait. . .was that right? He wanted to rephrase that. "Oh, yeah?" Tom turned to him, opening his locker. "And what's yours?" "Maybe you can come over to my house for dinner, what do you think?" Tom pulled out his backpack and looked at the time on his wrist. "I guess so, but I've got to pick my sister from school, then when we're home, I'll help her with her homeworks and see if I can balance the time left." Harry's eyes were wide. "You have a sister?" "Uh-huh," he nodded. "She attends
As they dined in the large dining room, Hanson cracked his voice and began to speak. "Young Simpson, I want to tell you a little story about myself." Andy looked up from his food and smiled, nodding in approval and attentiveness, mouthful. "I have never told anyone this, except my beautiful Elizabeth here," he pointed out. This time, Anderson's curiosity was risen. He knew this was very important, so he gulped the food piled in his mouth, asking, "Then why are you telling me this?" "Because I feel there's an adventure for you in this story, to help you achieve your goals." "Adventure?" "Yes, an adventure. I want you to listen very attentively. My wife and I have considered it, and we've come to agree we can trust you. We can, right?" Andy nodded. "Definitely." The couple smiled and exchanged glances. Andy immediately tapped on his SW to begin recording (this was
Yo guys! Sorry, Andy's not in this one. But I hope you'll like it. Also, don't be confused by the name, "Amanda." One is the mother of Harry, the other is his classmate.– – – –The birds chirped over the window frame, euphoniously. The heatless sun hung delicately in the clear blue sky, while the air smelt nice and cosy. Harry gave himself a big stretch on the bed, with a roar-like yawn. Throwing the blanket off his body, he threw one leg before the other to the ground. He blinked, sequentially, trying to adapt his misty sight to the room. The room was a total mess. Clothes were piled all over his room; trousers slung here and there. He walked to the standing shelf adjacent to his bed and pulled it open. He squeezed his face to see the horrible mess he'd made it. He couldn't make a word out of it, save for one; mess. He dropped his fingers in his head and began scratching hard. "I need to get this room in place!" he sa
Anderson was doing some workouts at the gym, that night, when Harry called him to ask where he was. Andy replied that he was at the gym, and Harry said he was on his way. In less than twenty minutes, Harry'd arrived there to meet his friend all reddened and sweaty, seated with a towel around his neck, a bottle of water in his hand, and his outerwears just beside him on the bench. His mouth was in an evil smirk. As Harry advanced towards him, he observed his surrounding — perfect — save for the misplacement of some machines. "Hi, Anderson." "Hi, Harrison." Harry smiled. "My dear friend has gotten into a fight, which is a rare topic these days. You literally fight once in a year." Andy raised his eyes to him, without a smile on his face. "I've not even said anything, yet." "You don't have to, I know the smile you make when you've kicked someone's butt." Harry watched as Andy uncapped the bottle
Mr Hans — or simply Hanson — had just finished speaking to Anderson that evening on phone. After the call, he sat back to reflect on the day. He'd done lots of work at the workshop, and sold so many stuffs. He smiled, with the feeling of self-accomplishment. Inventing was cool, he thought. You could practically do anything you wanted, as long as you could think it. Hanson's bedroom was practically a lab. His bed was a robot — one could make it warm and cosy by pressing the red button at the base of the bed. One could also make it rotate, just for the fun of "traveling while sleeping", by pressing the green button beside the red. There was a little switch at the head of the bed always on neutral. If you pushed the switch up, it raises the bed up — near-ceiling-length — and if you pushed it down, it lowers the bed. In addition to this, all his windows worked on a remote. The remote also controlled his room cabinets. It had just two buttons
The bell rang for end of classes. All the students scurried off the classroom, leaving frustrated Mrs Corbyn screaming out, "Oh come on! Can't you all just wait a little for my conclusion on the topic?!" But of course, she wasn't expecting an answer. "This Agric teacher is the weirdest I've ever encountered in my entire life," said Tom to Harry. They both grinned and packed their books to the locker room, hurriedly. On their way, they saw Jocelyn at the other side of the sea of moving students, walking with Amanda who held some textbooks to her chest, protectively. They chuckled as they walked, but did not notice the boys. Harry couldn't remember when last he'd seen the duo together. They even sat together at lung. His eyes clung to the girls, still, and then. . . "Ouch! Watch where you're going!" a familiar voice cried, after bumping into Harry. The books in Harry's arms spilled to the ground. He quickly bent to pick them, then raised his hea
When Hanson came over to Anderson's home, Harry and Jocelyn had already parted to their various homes. Hanson and Mr. Simpson spoke in the living room for some minutes before he excused the latter to see Andy. Andy was seated on his bed with a frame of his mother in his hands. When he heard the knock on the door, he quickly hid the frame under a pillow, replacing it with his old action figure toy. The old man came in with a warm smile. His hair spread across his forehead, cocking out from underneath his fascinator which was gently placed on his head. He was wearing a knee-length garment over a sweatshirt and a pair of pants. "Mind if I join you, Young Simpson?" he asked, while Andy gestured to sit beside him. Hanson looked around the room. It was spacious and neat, filled with lots of books on the overhead shelves. The room was well-polished with tall cabinets. At the end of the room, there was a desktop computer whose monitor