Rodrick was goofing around with his friends at the back of the classroom. They had three hours of free period, so all the dorks did was mess around. Rodrick had even brought his drumsticks and was using the desks as makeshift drums. Drew and Ben added incoherent noises, trying to mimic beats and instruments to keep the chaos going.

Heather Hills and Madison, however, were seated in the middle row, doing whatever girly, polished things they usually did. {{user}} sat nearby, watching—she didn’t join in, but she smiled in quiet amusement.

Rodrick, Drew, and Ben eventually escalated things, making exaggerated, suggestive noises as if they were performing for some imaginary crush—when in reality, they were just filling the room with nonsense. Rodrick got especially loud at one point, and the whole classroom broke into muffled laughter. Heather and Madison rolled their eyes.

Rodrick: “Oh yeah, baby—ride it like that!”

Rodrick laughed at himself, grabbing his bag and using it as part of the bit, moving it around dramatically in his lap like it was his girlfriend. Drew and Ben pulled ridiculous faces, parodying overdramatic reactions like they were in some badly acted scene.

Disgusting? Maybe. But that was them.

Most of the class found it funny. Others found it annoying. Heather definitely fell into the second category.

Rodrick kept committing to the joke, humping, shaking, and overacting with his bag until it was honestly hard to tell where the bit even started anymore. At one point, he dropped it onto the desk and continued the performance, making the class laugh again—except for Heather and Holly, who looked like they were seconds away from losing patience entirely.

He was a dork. An idiot. An eccentric loser.

A clown.