“Seriously, Kyle? You’re doodling on a /leaf/?”
I glanced up from my drawing, noticing the exasperated expression on my friend, Natalie’s face. Brushing a piece of her long blonde hair from her face, she stared at me, clearly expecting an answer, her pale lips pursed.
“Yeah, why… Got a problem with that?” I challenged, cocking an eyebrow before glancing back towards the leaf. Spiral designs were now etched into the waxy surface.
She rolled her eyes, the emerald of them flashing in the sunlight. “Yeah, I do. You’re destroying nature! We need leaves to breath!”
I shook my head, my light brown curls falling into my face before I brushed it away. “Nah. If we needed leaves, they would’ve been attached to us, not attached to a tree.” Turning back towards my doodle, I etched in a few more swirls, adding some floral designs before the leaf was snatched from my lap. “Hey!”
Natalie leapt to her feet from her seated position, trying to keep the leaf from me as I desperately lunged for it. “Come on,” I whined. “Give it back!”
“Not until you admit that I’m always right,” she countered, waving my canvas mockingly in front of me, yet far enough away where I couldn’t reach it.
I stared at her, before saying: “What does that have anything to do with drawing on a leaf?”
She paused, trying to think of a reply, and it was at that moment that I lunged. My hand latched onto the green of the leaf, only to have it snatched away again. “Ha!”
I rolled my eyes at her, crossing my arms. “Seriously, can’t you just give it back? What else am I supposed to do? Tear up pieces of grass?”
“We could always go to the library, then you can doodle on books,” she suggested, tapping her chin in thought.
“Or… You could give me back the leaf before you’re tackled to the ground and sat on.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she challenged, raising an eyebrow.
“I would,” I countered, standing up and watching her. “Give me back the leaf?”
She pretended to ponder for a moment before shaking her head, grinning. “Nope.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, then I guess I’ll just have to—“ I broke off, desperately lunging for her, only to have her deftly leap out of the way.
“You’ll have to catch me first!”
I groaned as she nimbly sprinted away, her strides long and graceful. “Come on, you /know/ you’re the fastest person in the school. /No one/ can catch you!”
She slowed, looking back at me before replying: “That might be right but… If you want the leaf, /you gotta catch me first/!”
I watched her for a moment, twirling around, seemingly dancing, all the while waving the leaf mockingly, smirking. “I’m not even going to bother,” I muttered. After all, it was just a leaf, there were plenty of other leaves on a tree.
Noticing my inattention, Natalie paused in her prancing, pouting. “Aww… Come on, you’re no fun.”
I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Oh /excuse me/ if I don’t feel like chasing you fifty times around the school. Not everyone has as much energy as you at every single minute of the day.”
She rolled her eyes before scooping up a nearby rock, tossing it at me. By tossing, I meant full-thrown chucking it at me. And let me tell you, having a rock hurdling at you is /not fun/.
I blinked, the exchange having happened in not even a second, before I burst: “What the heck was that for?” Grabbing the first object I could find, which happened to be my shoe, I threw it at her. Not only did she dodge it, but it sailed past her, and into the lake.
I cursed. I had thrown my /shoe/, much to my stupidity, and I hurriedly shoved my left sneaker back onto my foot before I decided to throw /that one/ too.
“Language,” Natalie tsk-ed, watching me, amused, as I hopped towards the edge of the lake.
“I don’t care,” I growled, trying to peer through the murky water, but to no avail. Who knew shoes don’t float? I didn’t. “Why couldn’t they make shoes float?”
“Because they didn’t expect people to throw their shoes into a lake,” she replied, smirking as I waded into the water, reaching around, trying to feel for my shoe. My hand touched something soft, fabric, and I smiled, triumphant. “Ha! I got it!” I cried, pulling it out. In my hand was an old sock. I stared at it watching it roll off my hand and back into the water with a soft /plop/ when she broke into laughter. “Who would throw a sock in a lake?”
“The same person who threw their shoe into it?” she suggested, trying to stifle her laughter.
“Ha ha. /Funny/,” I replied, rolling my eyes. Gingerly stepping from the water, I stared in disgust at the dirt and debris that clung to my jeans. “Ugh… /Gross/.”
Natalie took one look at my expression before bursting into laughter. “Seriously, you should see your face!”
“Oh, shut up,” was my only reply.
“You’re so irritable today,” she informed me, wagging her finger, still smirking. “Did someone have a bad day?” she asked in a patronizing tone.
“Or maybe that /someone/ has an annoying friend.”
She looked at me before commenting: “You have no imagination.”
I sputtered. “/What/? Have you seen my paintings, drawings, sculptures? They’re the /best in the school/!”
She sighed. “I meant in writing; word choice. ‘Annoying,’ was that the best you could do?”
“Well, I’m /so sorry/ that not everyone is as good at writing as you.”
She shook her head, holding her hands up in surrender. “No offense.”
“Just because you say ‘no offense’ doesn’t mean I won’t take offense,” I informed her, narrowing my eyes.
She just laughed. “Ah, but that’s what makes us such good friends. You don’t take offense when everything I say is so obviously offensive.”
“Whatever,” I replied, before flashing a glare at the lake. “You know, you owe me a new shoe.”
“Nuh uh, you were the one who threw it, you’re the only one to blame.”
“Oh shut up,” was my only reply.
She laughed, flirting around, prancing, dancing, twirling. Rolling my eyes, I flopped down onto the grass, tugging off my sneaker as well as my water laden socks. Tossing my shoe-wear onto the ground, I brushed my feet against the luscious grass, trying to dry them, as well as trying to get rid of any dirt/debris that clung to them.
Natalie watched me for a moment, pausing in her dance-like prance before swiftly leaping forward, snatching up both my socks… And my sneaker.
I jerked, glaring at her, before breaking into laughter at her look of disgust.
“Ugh… These are so gross! How’d you even wear them?” she complained, scrutinizing the socks.
“They weren’t that gross before.” I paused. “Before /someone/ decided to throw my shoe into the lake.”
“I did /not/ throw it,” she protested. She paused. “You know, just for saying that, you’re not gonna get these back.” I leapt to my feet at the same moment that she threw them into the air. I watched in disbelief as my sock sailed through the air, and into the lake, floating for a second before sinking beneath the murky surface.
I stared at the lake, exasperated. “Now you not only owe me a shoe, but also a sock,” I informed her, only for her to smile before tossing something at me. Instinctively, I caught it.
“My shoe… And my sock?”
“Yep! I don’t owe you anything anymore, ‘cause I just got you a shoe and sock.”
“That wasn’t what I meant!”
“Well then, you should’ve been more specific.” She laughed, only to be interrupted by her watch beeping. “Oh, whoops! Time for soccer practice.” She paused. “You going to come watch, or are you going to continue brooding over your lost?”
I glared at her, scowling.
“I guess that’s a no. See-ya, Kyle!” she replied cheerfully, skipping off.
I watched her receding form for a second before sighing, gathering my one shoe and my one sock.
I hate that lake.
“Can you believe all that happened just ‘cause I was drawing on a leaf?”
“Dude, you’ve a lot of bad luck. First getting attacked by that dog last week, and now /this/.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s messed up.” I shook my head. “But it was kinda my fault.”
He scowled. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s that Natalie chick. She was the one who threw them. I say we get revenge.”
“Yeah, like what? Beat her up and then get expelled? Come on, James, get real. We should just let it go.”
James thought for a moment, before smiling. “No, we can beat her at her own game!”
“She likes writing, right? Well, we can just like write an amazing story that’ll make her so extremely guilty she won’t do that to you again!”
I scoffed. “Yeah, right. Like that’s ever gonna work. How’d we end it?”
He paused, thinking for a moment. “ ’That was how my friend Natalie made me lose my shoe and my sock.’ ”
“I was joking!”
“Yeah, well, I’m not. Go grab a piece of paper.”
“How would writing make her feel guilty?”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever, I’ll do it myself.” Digging around in his desk, he pulled out a crumple piece of paper before scrawling:
‘And that, my friend, is how I lost my right shoe and my left sock.’