Everything's just Ducky, Really

It didn’t.
Of course it didn’t, he was a certified idiot. But still, I didn’t expect him to stand just outside for 10 minutes, looking stupid and ugly and hopeful while I complained of my ‘tall’ stalker.
When the let’s-get-dirt-on-our-pants thing got old, we went and took our shoes off and walked-VERY SLOWLY - through the creek (with rocks on the bottom-ouch!). Flute Boy walked to the crosswalk and stood there for three ‘walk’ things before he finally gave up and went ahead to his class.
Yes!” I hissed to Maggie.
“Finally!” she whisper-yelled back (she was about 10 yards away watching some ducks). We dried our feet on the grass, put our shoes back on, and slowly headed to our class (in the same building as his-ick) in case he was waiting for us around the big tree.
He wasn’t.
“Rejoice!” I cried.
But, alas! It was too early!
For just behind the glass doors was my…um…loser…

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