No sooner had it rung out then Zach flinched, a sickening anger taking root at his gut.
Zach cringed at the shrill, nasal sound of Ms.Nasty’s voice. Little dog had to bark for a piece of meat. And there she stood, Mr.Nilla grinning by her side. Zach wondered if they had been waiting for him all this time, lurking amidst the crowd.
“Zach Tyler.” Ms.Nasty curled her finger and frowned, “Come here NOW.”
Zach sighed as he dragged himself to the couple.
“Your pants are far too baggy. You look like a gangster.”
“Is that it?”
Zach sniggered. Nasty was wearing dark sunglasses that contrasted oddly with her clown-red lips, and a long ill-fitting pink jean skirt. Mr.Nilla wore a yellow vacation shirt and creased brown pants. It looked like a colorblind clown had given them fashion tips. He wondered if they had waited in this spot on purpose, just waiting for him to emerge.
“If I’m a gangster, you act like one. You wait out here, lingering in wait for your prey then hurl fashion tips at them. And they can’t contradict you, because you’re in a higher position than they are.”
Ms.Nasty frowned, then pretended to laugh, looking to Mr.Nilla for affirmation that Zach was crazy. Mr.Nilla coughed and spoke up.
“Come with us to the office, Zach.”
“I have class.”
“You aren’t dressed for class.”
“I don’t know about you,” Zach said slyly, “but I learn with my brain, not with my pants.”
“You WILL come with us or I WILL give you DETENTION.”