..Teach Me? - Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: It's a chapter, okay? PEPSI!


Bridgette looked everywhere for Courtney. She looked behind boxes, under beds, even in Chef's kitchen. But she was no where to be found. That is before a scream could be heard from the communial washrooms, and Bridgette tore after the sound.

"What the Hell kind of a prank is this?!" Someone could be heard from inside. Bridgette inhaled slowly before kicking the door down (Literally) and pointing a hand-shaped gun at the person who had screamed, which just so happened to be Harold. Her gaze followed his pointing finger to a banana peel which sat dutifully upright.

"I mean really! Can you people think of anything better to pull?!" He demanded before a five dollar bill caught the corner of his eye. It moved very slowly towards the door, and before you could say 'Qrrrblllrllloppfrl', Harold was chasing after the money like George Bush to war. Bridgette stood frozen for a minute, letting everything sink in before she burst into laughter (Metaphorically). That is until she saw a bandaged-up and mummy-like-looking Courtney a few feet beyond the banana peel, and she slowly inched towards her. That is before she slid on the banana peel.

*****

"Hey Trent, D.J, you want a COKE?" Chris asked, the emphasis on a high as he winked into the camera.

"Nah, I'm good Man." D.J replied before he began chatting with Trent again.

"You're supposed to say 'Yes Chris, I would love this high quality beverage. It tastes sooooo good!'" Chris replied disappointingly.

"Oooooooooh, sorry Dude." He responded before grabbing the COKE and taking a sip. "Tastes good."

"Thank you!"

*****

Bridgette lifted herself off of the floor, clutching her nose with one hand, and her head in the other.

"Ow! That actually hurt you know!" She cried before crawling to where Courtney lay.

"Wake up you." She ordered, shoving her with her elbow. A small movement could be seen.

"Come ON Courtney!" She yelled, angrily jabbing her now with her arm.

“WHAT DO YA WANT?!” Courtney screamed directly in front of Bridgette’s face. She had sat up very abruptly, and was now glaring Bridgette down. Speaking of her, she shrank towards the dirty bathroom floor, clearly frightened.

“I-I’m sorry. But do you want to go get Duncan or not?”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” She answered, looking at her cast-like costume.

“Well, we might as well free you of this first.”

*****

Chris walked around the dance floor, setting up signs on every square millimetre he could reach. Geoff stopped to read one of the signs, and squinted hard at the tiny writing.
“I can hardly read this... Oh wait, I need my glasses.” He said, shrugging a pair of very thick and magnified glasses, and placed them on his nose happily.

“Coca-Cola, It’s good. McDonald’s, I’m lovin’ it. Those kids are after me lucky charms!” He read, emphasising the brand names.

“That’s right my good friend. Those people are paying big money for those ads, and that means more things for me!” He explained.

“...But these are stupid-looking.”

Chris stared back angrily.

“Not as stupid as you look!”

*****

Bridgette and Courtney stood in the washroom; both glad Courtney was finally free.

“Chris’ great project is now ruined.” Courtney sighed sadly, looking at her now-normal-looking appearance as it stared back at her.

“No it’s not. The whole point was that you’d finally ask Duncan out, and if you don’t hurry now, you really are going to mess it up.” Bridgette replied, looking down at a watch that appeared on her wrist.

The two girls walked out of the washroom and both began to search for Duncan.

“Hey, what’s this?” Courtney wondered, picking up Bridgette’s camera.

“It’s a camera... Actually, it’s my camera.” She answered, snatching the device away from her. Courtney watched with confusion as Bridgette looked at her carefully, before randomly punching her in the face.

“What the Hell was that for?!” She yelled, her arms open.

“Sorry, flinch.”

Courtney rolled her eyes before a piece of paper lying face-down in the dirt caught her attention. She reached for it, and turned it over, revealing a picture of Duncan and Heather entering the party.

“Where did this come from?”

“It’s not what it looks like!” Bridgette yelled in Duncan’s defence.

“No, I mean why is Chris auditioning for Boys Gone Wild?”

“...”

*****

Chris looked around for Bridgette or Courtney, and when he didn’t see them, he scratched his chin thoughtfully. VERY thoughtfully.

“Maybe..” He pondered, looking at a fishing pole knowingly. He winked into the camera before chasing after it.

*****

“Okay Courtney, you don’t get it. Duncan. Came. With. Heather. To. The. Party.” She stated firmly. Bridgette had been talking to Courtney like this for ten minutes, still not getting anywhere.

“But Chris.. Boys Gone Wild... How can you miss it!”

“Because you can hardly see him off in the distance! Duncan and Heather are RIGHT THERE!” She yelled, pointing.

*****

Chris attached a cookie to the hook of the fishing pole before casting the line deep into the crowd of party-goers.

*****

Duncan and Heather were dancing (Well, Heather was. Duncan was standing there. Pretending to dance. (How does someone pretend to dance? Do they, like, just stand there and move a bit? No, you.. Well.. Good question...))

When Duncan looked down and noticed something. The camera showed the cookie at his feet.

“Cool, a quarter.” He said happily, completely ignoring the cookie.

“DAMN IT!” Chris screamed, causing the music to reverb and then stop.

“Damn it, there is no more sauce... for the nachos...”

*****

Courtney and Bridgette looked among the party, their ears pounding with sound of music, and their eyes wide from the amount of people that actually showed up.

“Well, let’s go find Duncan..” Bridgette suggested, slightly nervous as the two walked into the crowd. Courtney searched for Duncan suspiciously after finally agreeing to Bridgette that he may have gone to the party with Heather (Still ignoring the photo).

Bridgette did finally see Duncan and Heather, and when she did, she tugged at Courtney’s sleeve and pointed.

End of Chapter Seven