It was yellow, the lemon, as most lemons seem to be in today’s society. I regarded it with an estranged interest, its bumps and nicks and somewhat elliptical shape. I’m sure if it had been alive it would have stared at me with the same intent. I’m not even sure that it hadn’t.

      The lemon lay upon a cart, among more of its kind, along with various trays and baskets full of more such fruit and other food matter. They were all doomed to meet their fate at the economics class, where students would surely butcher them to create poorly-made table decorations. I wouldn’t know, as I had never taken the class. I was simply a lowly teacher’s assistant who had somehow lost the teacher he was supposed to be assisting. I think it was the algebra teacher, but I can’t be certain. It didn’t really matter, because it seems the faculty had a general consensus to give me a good grade.

      And thus the lemon and I ended up bound cross-campus. Why, the lemon and I were so caught up in each other that we didn’t even notice Derrick coming our way. Or else the lemon just didn’t feel obliged to say anything.

      Now, I can’t say I am completely responsible for what happened next, but it seems it will be I who will always be remembered for it. You see, Derrick was also playing the lackey, wheeling a cart similar to mine, but instead destined for the chemistry lab.

      The carts met with a resonant clang, and both Derrick and I clamored to keep their contents in place. Our conjoined efforts failed miserably, and the hallway was filled with the sounds of shattering glass, smashing tableware, and the ominous squishing sounds of vegetable matter. The lemon landed in a broken bottle marked 1M HCL. I held my breath.

      “What the hell are you doing!?” screamed Derrick. I didn’t answer, somehow not noticing that this person, a varsity football player and wrestling champ, and nearly twice my size, was ready to pound me into something unrecognizable from the paste on the floor.

      “Derrick…” I started.

      “Don’t try to weasel you’re way out of this,” he barked.

      “Derrick…” I began again.

      “Quiet, you prick, do you realize how much trouble I’m…” He ranted.

      “Derrick, I…” I pleaded.

      “WHAT!?” He roared.

      “Look…” With this I pointed to the mess on the floor, which had begun to bubble furiously.

      “What the…” Derrick didn’t get to finish that thought, as the goo chose that moment to erupt, coating the two of us in a slimy, viscous material, that for some reason smelled faintly of apricots.

      Derrick turned a bright red, at least what little I could see. He spoke softly, “I… am… sooooo… going to kill you.”

      I did not wish to give him the opportunity for some reason, and decided now would be the time to run for my life. And that I did, rambling a string of obscenities to put the most hardcore rapper to shame. Or at least resigned recognition.

      Derrick was quick to take chase, following my every attempt to evade him. The two of us, trailing slime and debris, circumnavigated the campus multiple times, straddling railings, leaping trash cans, and causing general chaos. I was quickly loosing ground and had to do something fast.

      The opportunity came just as the bell was ringing for lunch. It came at great risk to my livelihood, but as to that, I didn’t have much to loose anyway.

      Somehow I managed to leap off an outcropping in the wall, bound off a trashcan, grab the edge of the roof, swing just so… and miss my target completely, landing ungracefully in a tree.

      At first Derrick was stunned. Then he came to, and seemed to wish to repeat my performance, then thought better of it in favor of the direct route. Fortunately for me, the tree proved a formidable opponent, and Derrick was unable to ascend.

      By now we had gathered quite a crowd, mumbling and shuffling about, most confused I’m sure. A couple bursts of laughter and a few short cheers followed Derrick’s antics.

      And then I noticed Miranda, standing there in a corner. Oh no, I thought, what horror filled me, to have her see me like this, treed like a raccoon, dripping in biological waste, and her, like some radiant angel disguised as a school-girl. And how could she not notice me? I was doomed.

      But she just smiled, and gave a cute little giggle. Then she winked at me with a sly smile. My eyes followed her as she approached Derrick, who was still fuming. She said something, and the two of them began a garbled conversation, with an excessive amount of gestures on Derrick’s part. I couldn’t hear anything, so didn’t know what to make of it.

      It seemed Derrick calmed down a bit, and Miranda motioned for me to come down. At first I did nothing, but at her continued insistence, I shimmied down the tree uncertainly.

      “Now you two apologize to each other,” Miranda directed. We both begrudgingly complied. Then Derrick sauntered off with what little pride he had left, grumbling.

      I thanked Miranda profusely, who just said, “No problem,” She giggled a little, and wiped some grime from my face. And then… and then… she kissed me! Well, just on the cheek, but still… Anyway, then she ran off, laughing. I just stood there, stunned.

      It was about that time the assistant principal, the geography teacher, and the Spanish teacher found me. Apparently, much of the faculty had been looking for us after finding the road kill hand carts. I’m sure it didn’t take them that long, considering. They drug me off to the office to get an explanation. All I could think of at the time was if this would effect my grade, my conduct, or both.

      Since no one could find Derrick, I got pegged with it, despite the numerous witnesses and the fact that nobody could explain the chemistry cart. Just my luck. But… It was a good day… just because… Miranda kissed me.