Cupboard Love

As per usual, on a Tuesday, I lazed around the Common Room. Until lunch time. Doing basically nothing. Fati and Beth took it upon themselves to swipe my phone from my bag, under the pretence of "looking at the pictures on it". I thought nothing of it, until Art, where on Fati asked me the slightly suspicious question of,

"Have you received any... uh... funny texts recently?"

I raised an eyebrow, and carried on ripping up parcel paper. Ten minutes later, she asked,

"Can you send me another text?"

Again, an eyebrow rose, and I continued to glue down some tracing paper.

At home, a couple of hours later, I was greeted by a slightly irate Stalker.

"Why did you send me that stupid text?" he fumed.

"You what?" was my eternally intelligent reply.

"I thought it couldn't have been you. Well, one of your friends sent a stupid message to my phone, saying 'Hello Stalker, I love you, do you love me too? xxxxxx'"

"Ah," said I, "Yes, I have some odd friends. Sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry. But I shall murder your friend. Did you know that my phone went off in my Chemistry lesson?"

"Oh dear," I replied, thinking of ways to stab Fati with a compass.

"Oh dear indeed," glowered Stalker, "The Chemistry teacher confiscated the phone."

"Oops," I offered, trying to decide whether it would be more interesting to chop Fati's legs or arms off.

"Not only that," he continued, "But the text was read out. To the entire class."

At this point, I burst into hysterical laughter, and promptly fell off my chair.

Sorry, Stalker. Dear.

.............................................................................................................

Lunch time was spent sat in a cupboard. Ahh, but not just any old cupboard, no. Tis a cupboard of complete uselessness; an empty space with no purpose whatsoever.

Well, we found a purpose.

Sitting in the pitch black, singing any hymn that came to mind, yelling tuneless rounds, including the old favourites like "London's Burning" and "Kookaburra" (yes, with the random "DIE, KOOKABURRA, DIE, KOOKABURRA" variations from Katy).

There was a sharp tapping on the door, which we had locked.

Rosanne screamed, and dived onto Abi.

In mock terror, we scurried to the slanted end of the cupboard, and carried on our tuneless howling, with the odd interjection of Kris cackling, or Rozza screeching in time to the 'music'. At last, we found the courage inside us to open the door. It opened a tiny crack, letting light flood into the previously black hole we were shut into. I pushed the door harder, but to no avail. Some Upper Sixth twit had tied a chair so that we were unable to get out.

I shut the door.

The singing recommenced.