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"THIS ISN'T YOUR smartest idea, Hayden

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"THIS ISN'T YOUR smartest idea, Hayden." I heard my cousin's voice echo through the silent cafeteria hall, vibrating through the air and into the small kitchen adjacent to the large room.

"None of my ideas are smart, Spencer." I scoff back as I flip the pancake in the black frying plan. There had always been gossip of the pancake mix that the cafeteria ladies purposely hid from the student body and tonight I can finally put some damn truth to the rumors. "But they are fucking hilarious."

Letting that side of the pancake cook, I walk back into the cafeteria to see my dear cousin standing in the middle, arms folded across his chest as he looked up at my masterpiece. I came to a stance next to him, taking a bite out of another pancake gripped securely in my hand.

"Beautiful, don't you think?" I murmured to him, my mouth full of fluffy, sweet goodness. Spencer side glanced me before rolling his eyes with a heavy, disappointed sigh. It's not an uncommon sound for me to hear.

So my life is a constant spiral of disappointment. At least I acknowledge it.

"I can't believe you're eating pancakes right now." Spencer huffs as he takes the pancake out of my hand and takes a bite, becoming increasingly frustrated with my calmness with this whole ordeal. He chews it bitterly with his sharp jawline clenched tightly.

"There is always a time for pancakes my dear cousin," I muttered, ignoring the fact that he had just taken a bite out of my pancake. It would've made the list of top ten anime betrayals without a doubt. I step forward after swallowing yet another pancake down at an abnormally fast rate and bend down to pick up a can of neon pink spray paint. I shook it, the sound echoing in the silent room and peered up at the wall.

"I think it needs more dicks." I pondered and stepped up onto the chair, pulling the white, cardboard face mask over my mouth. The pink spray paint splattered on the white wall as I moved my hand like an artist would with a paint brush.

"You need to make it at least proportional, Hay." Spencer pointed out from behind, "Principal McKinley would never have a dick that big. Have you seen how tight his pants are?"

I screw my nose up in disgust and nod, "Oh shit, you're right."

The next sound to be heard is the opening of the cafeteria doors hitting the plaster walls. Boisterous and similar to that of an out of tune crescendo. I glance over my shoulder and watch in horror as my tenth-grade chemistry teacher Mr. Jacobs stood in the threshold.

"What do you two think you're doing?" He exclaims, his untamed eyebrows creased in a deep frown. He pointed a stern yet a rather chubby finger directed on my frame and he stormed forward across the cafeteria, "Get down from there this instant, Miss Jones!"

There was a slight pause of silence, save for the unbearable squeaking of Mr. Jacob's leather shoes on the linoleum flooring.

Then, "Run!"

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