Personal Life and School hate each other. They often pass each other in the hallways, glaring. School sneers at Personal Life from over the pages of his books. Personal Life talks about School’s stupid glasses that were surprisingly sleek.
Technically, Personal Life and School were “coworkers.” However, School dictated most of what Personal Life did.
“What the fuck is this?” Personal Life snapped, staring at the report School had just handed him.
“Your future,” School muttered back, flipping distractedly through a text book. “Now, hop to it.”
“No, I want free time,” Personal Life growled, crumpling the report up. “I’m done with your sick demands. I can’t possibly need to do all of this, you crazy sicko.”
School stood frozen in the doorway, shoulders stiff. “Would you like to end up a hobo?”
“Would you like to stop jumping to the worse conclusion?” Personal Life threw his arms into the air. “A hobo, a McDonald’s worker, a prostitute—you know that’s not going to happen, right?”
School turned slowly, shutting the book with a sharp clap. “Are we going through this again?”
Personal Life stood, hands on his hips. “You bet your damn ass we are.”
Seething, School strode up to Personal Life, looking down his long nose at him. “F.”
“What?!” Personal Life screeched.
“F,” School hissed, drawing out the sound. “Should have worked harder.”
“You’re so ridiculous!”
School laughed. “I’m ridiculous? Says the one who would rather spend all day on his computer or watching TV than working.”
“It’s called free time,” Personal Life replied shrilly, “And you’re eating all of it up!”
“Excuse me for trying to prepare you for the future!” School stepped closer, inches away from Personal Life.
“Ha! An essay on why the Puritans influenced America is definitely going to help me in my future endeavors. And, while you’re at it, why don’t you grade me like you have a vendetta?” Personal Life was breathing heavily.
School gritted his teeth.
Romance spun around in her office chair. “God, I ship you two so much.”