Beyblade Fan Fiction ❯ Vanilla Girl's Story of a Nobody ❯ Golly Gosh Gee Willickers, Mr. Yoder! ( Chapter 8 )

Author's Note: Blah, blah, blah. OMG I'm sooo tired right now, and you know what that means! Lots of errors and not enough brain juice! Yay!!! So this is the -what is it? Eighth chapter? Gosh, you people are wearing me out—I had actually planned to take a yearlong brake at chapter six. Gosh. You people. I also haven't been writing much because I have a very, very big test coming up about the presidents, and I can't seem to remember what the XYZ Affair was. But I know it had to do with Adams and France in 18-something… This one isn't as long as it looks; there's so much random stuff in this… Please tell me if this chapter is good or not, because if it's not I'll redo it and make it better. I'm just really tired right now.

 

Disclaimer: Do I have to keep telling you? Listen now or forever hold your peace: I do not own Tala (from Beyblade). I do, however, own Mr. Yoder, Vanessa, Vanilla, and Tiffany.

 

Vanilla Girl's Story of a Nobody

Act 8: “Golly Gosh Gee Willickers, Mr. Yoder!”

By: VenusIsKnownForFlyTraps

 

“Golly Gosh Gee Willickers, Mr. Yoder! How do we take note?”

 

“That is a very good question, Vanessa! For an example of how to take notes, we will be taking practice notes on Spongebob.”

 

…Who?

 

“We will be doing this--”

 

Golly Gosh Gee Willickers, Mr. Yoder! The bell just rang!

 

“—tomorrow.”

 

Mr. Yoder (a.k.a. the `Golly Gosh Gee Willickers Guy') is a nice guy and all, but he's just so…… gay. I mean, how are we supposed to enjoy American Studies with this guy!? Do you know what he does at night, when nobody is watching!?

 

Me neither.

 

So, walkin' from the classroom, chewin' my bubble gum, makin' sure Tiffany was way out of sight, I walked on the half of the hall that was going toward the door. After all, the Golly Gosh Gee Willicker bell just rang.

 

Wait… wasn't Tala supposed to be with me?

 

Oh well.

 

He'll turn up eventually.

 

Don't I have that business meeting tonight?

 

Vanessa is in that class…

 

La clase de negocio con Vanessa…

 

So anyway, walking down the hall with these interesting thoughts in my head, I was finally able to make it to my bus, number 20. I stepped up the large gray step at least three feet off the ground and got hold of the handrail. Pulling myself up, I found I was face to face with the hot kid.

 

I mean Tala.

 

 

“Hi.” Is it just me or does he seem tense? “Where. Were. You?” he breathed in pure furry. Please, please don't punch me.

 

“In class.”

 

“Then why are you on the bus?”

 

“Class is over.”

 

He glared… Oh, what a pretty glare… Cold as ice, and sharp as glass… Oh, I could get lost in that glare…

 

Wait… Are you still listening to me!?

 

Please excuse the last interruption.

 

And lets be thankful he doesn't hit (or punch) pretty girls.

 

Now, a place to sit…