“Well, it looks like I’m oh for three in the make-a-new-name-for-myself department.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Yup. I’ll bet Luna can’t wait to hit the dance floor with ol’ Larva Boy.”
“Oh, c’mon, Kelvin. Once she sees you out there, she’ll be begging for you to ask her. You are going to use those new moves Zot taught you, right?”
“Only if I wear a helmet. As soon as I told her I needed her help so I could dance with Luna, our lesson sort of… took a turn for the worse. I don’t get it.”
“You don’t? Zot likes you, Kelvin.”
“I like her, too. So what?”
“No, I mean she likes likes you. Haven’t you noticed how she’s always smiling at you?”
“Zot’s always smiling. At everybody.”
Yikes.
Oh, this day just keeps getting better and better. What next? I accidentally swallow my backpack? Or I could get stuck on another elevator with lunch-special guy. Or maybe I slip on a banagal peel, get sucked out an air lock, drift into a wormhole portal, and wind up on the other end of the galaxy on a planet filled with Bula clones. I mean, why not, right?
At least Dorn has stuck to verbal-only bullying ever since Grimnee wrapped him in that wad of desks. It was getting pretty old being crammed into my helmet every day. And rough on my back. But something seems a little different with Dorn today. I better tread lightly.
“Uh… hey, Dorn. What’s up?”
“What’s up is I’ve been named the new captain of the helmet inspection police.”
“What? There’s no such thing as the helmet inspection police.”
“Wrong again, Genius. Don’t worry about it, though. I’m going to help you inspect yours real good.”
Aw, c’mon. Are we really back to this again? Dorn must have a death wish.
“Grimnee’s not going to like this!”
“Sorry, Genius, but it’s just you and me. Your little bodyguard went to see the doctor.”
