The Photo and The Phone

 "How the hell do you know him?!" Fiona exclaimed after Benedict had left at the end of class.
 "Know him?"
 "That grin. You two shared a joke!"
 "We were laughing at your face."
 "Thanks."
 "Alright, fine, I met him yesterday. He needed directions to get here. He's got Mr Frost as a guide."
 "Eurgh. Tough break."
 "Yeah, that's what I told him."
 My phone felt like it was calling me and I was itching to tell the world about my witnessing the Purple Shirt in the flesh, but I was talking IRL, so I resisted, until he came back.
 He rounded the corner in precisely the opposite motion path to mine and so I collided head on into him. You remember how I was having amazing luck? In retrospect, that was the first indication that the Universe would soon be back in alignment. His joyous curls of hair that I'm still adamant are naturally ginger flopped backwards slightly as he stumbled to keep his footing. This was incredibly embarassing, but I got the feeling Fiona was incredibly jealous of me.
 "Uh, hi, again," I mumbled.
 "I just remembered," he replied, "You wanted a photo. Fiona, would you like to join us?"
 "Definitely!" she squealed.
 So after we crammed into the small shot of my phone, since I was eager to post to twitter and my Ipod lacked Wi-Fi, Benedict took the hint from my rambling on about how Fiona urged me to watch 'Sherlock' and engaged deeply in conversation with her, much to her delight. He turned out to be headed for Fiona's maths classroom so I split with them at the turning point between maths and english, pleased with myself for not being jealous of Fiona at that point.

 I didn't see him again until lunch. I had grudgingly agreed to go out for lunch, since the sun was finally gracing us with its prescence after a long winter.

Sidenote: I have very long hair that is prone to static. It only does so when it's a dry day. My hair predicts the weather. I was born on groundhog day. In conlusion, astrology exists.

 I saw him standing at the gate as Fiona and I left the school, our stomachs dragging us towards the Flamin' Wok. The sun had perked up a bit and was lending some warmth and I would have shoved my blazer into my schoolbag but for it being full of P.E. kit. The bag was actually quite heavy but we're schoolkids, we're tough, we don't need no back support! The students were milling around the gates, waiting for their friends, a few of them staring at Ben. Ben was staring at us.
 I approached him with that feeling of guilty elation, "Uh, hi. Shouldn't you be talking to teacher people?"
 "Actually part of the deal. I've got to socialize with the kids, see how they really act when they're down the town. Where are you two going?"
 "Flamin' Wok."
 "Sounds Asian. I'm in."
 "Uh, okay."

 "Dear, God, I miss Twitter," I mumbled.
 "You tweet?" Ben asked, intrigued?
 "Yeah, I just feel so bad that I'm not talking to anyone about you being here. Shaliza are both off school and college today so I really want to talk to them but the signal on my phone is rubbish."
 "Would you like to borrow mine?"
 "Really? Because I was wondering if you'd send them a video message."
 "Uh ... Alright but I'll meet you in the front hall after school and we'll do it then, but here," he handed me an Iphone 5.
 "Brilliant, thankyou."
 "Ah, you addict, you," Fiona mumbled.