"Alright everyone, get out your projects and pass them up!"

Groans followed shortly after that statement. The teacher frowned.

"I reminded you yesterday and gave you two more days than I should have to complete this project! So no 'buts!'"

The groans only grew in volume. Luckily, I was not one of them. I smirked and hoisted up my heavy, aqua carrying bag and began to dig through for my sexy project. I'd worked all night on it so it better get an 'A!'

Looking in my pile of assorted junk, I tried to spot the blue, sparkly piece of cardboard but . . . I didn't see it. A nauseous feeling grew in the pit of my stomach.

What if . . . what if it wasn't there? What if . . . I'd left it at home?

Suddenly the room felt so much hotter, like a mini volcano had spit out a bunch of lava around my desk. My hands trembled and I began to search frantically, trying to recall what I'd done with the stupid thing the night before.

All motion halted as a half-baked image of the blue piece of sparkling cardboard sitting on my kitchen table burst into my mind.

It was then that I realized . . . I hadn't put it in my book bag this morning. The feeling in my gut worsened and a thousand mini volcanoes surrounded me, spewing fumes of heat onto my skin.

Oh no . . . No, no, no!

I just sat there for a second, staring at my book bag. What was I going to do? That thing counted for half of my grade! And I already flunked on the last one!

"Kiara? Do you have your project?" Ms. Stacey asked. I swallowed.

"Um . . . well, you see, Ms. Stacey, what happened was—"

"Zip it! I don't want to hear any of your excuses! Just bring it to me tomorrow. I should have expected this from you . . ."

That did it.

I was tired of being constantly belittled by her! Last time it was the project I couldn't do because I'd spent the week in the hospital. Now it was the one I did but was too tired in the morning to remember to bring it.

I was done.

"But—but I did it, Ms. Stacey! I swear!"

She gave me a cold, blue-eyed stare.

"And why don't you have it then, Kiara?"

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

My heart thudded as my mouth opened and closed. My brain stopped working for those few precious seconds and for some odd reason, tears prickled in my eyes.

Ms. Stacey's stare softened and she looked a little frantic. Her arms neared me as if to comfort me, but then stopped liked she didn't know what to do with them.

"Now, now, please don't cry Kiara . . . I'm sure you can turn it in tomorrow at the latest—"

"But I worked hard on it all night! I want the grade I deserve! Not the grade that would happen because of a simple mishap!"

I saw a poster of a dog behind Ms. Stacey's head of spiky chestnut locks and an idea began to bloom within my mind. The tears stopped.

Ms. Stacey looked uncomfortable. "What mishap?"

"What? Oh that . . . never mind," I mumbled, "You wouldn't believe me anyway."

Those acting classes might just actually be worth it!

"It's alright, Kiara. Tell me."

I pretended to hesitate for just a second and before I knew it, my mouth opened and a story spewed from my lips.

"I woke up this morning and I saw my project lying on my bedside table, so I was about to stuff it in my bag so I wouldn't forget it but I heard a crash outside. I went to investigate, expecting the worse, so I brought my baseball bat."

By now, the entire class's attention was transfixed on me and my story.

"I was right to. It was a person in all black, like a ninja. And as soon as he saw me, he raced up to me faster than I could react and delivered a swift punch to my head. I fell unconscious and when I woke, I'd never been more scared in my life!" I sniffled dramatically.

"I noticed that I was no longer at home but with some other people that looked just as creeped out as me! They were all tied up, too, and I looked down and saw myself tied up. Then the guy that kidnapped me stepped in the room. I remember fidgeting as he stared at us for a minute before saying, 'Nice of all of you to join us for our video.' Everyone, including me, seemed so confused.

"The man had sighed before shaking his head and muttering, 'You poor deprived souls.' Then his hands crossed over his chest and grabbed the hems of his shirt. He tugged it up and over, yelling, 'Sugar rush!' I remember seeing a, well, explosion of color, like confetti and you know what he had on?"

The entire class seemed to lean into my desk. Ms. Stacey looked a bit skeptical.

"He had on this horrifying orange jumpsuit! It was so bright it was blinding. Then he made all of us get up in the center of the room. He went to the door and opened it, letting some more people in. They looked even weirder than he did! They wore a bunch of furry costumes and had buckets full of hot dogs, of all things.

"I recall them grinning at us before one of them stationed himself in front of us with a camera and another took a radio out of nowhere and turned it up to the maximum notch. Who Let the Dogs Out? blasted from the speakers and the weirdoes starting dancing and grabbing fistfuls of hot dogs. They then started slapping us with them! It was so creepy!"

The whole class was laughing by now and I had to work hard not to smile. Ms. Stacey didn't look as amused.


I didn't let her finish.

"It was then I realized that this was a Harlem Shake video and those scare me so bad so I snuck out the door while they were dancing and hitting people with hot dogs. I eventually made it home but by then it was almost time to leave so I had to rush to get here, Ms. Stacey! So it wasn't my fault!"

There was so much laughter it was almost deafening.

"Yeah right! A Harlem Shake video isn't like that! Liar!" some redhead drawled, clearly not impressed.

The girls around him giggled. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Shut up! It actually did happen, smartass!"

"Ooooh," some boy in the front row said, "Ms. Stacey, Kiara said a bad word!"

I think a vein popped on my forehead. Ms. Stacey was no better.

"Quiet!" she yelled over the noise.

Immediately, everyone froze and stared at her. She smiled tightly.

"Good. Now that I have your attention . . . Kiara, I am going to talk to your parents about this. I do not tolerate liars in my classroom—"

Just then the door creaked and cracked, opening halfway to reveal a messily clad man. He had on a black suit that was littered with dark yellow and red stains and his tie was crooked. His hair was a pig sty. And to complete the look, he wore a rather disgruntled expression.

"M-Mr. Barnes? Is that you? What happened? You were supposed to be here earlier," Ms. Stacey stammered.

He frowned and blew a piece of stray black hair out of his face.

"I apologize for coming late. I was unfortunately held up by a group of . . . interesting youngsters."

I blinked. Ms. Stacey looked weary.

"How so?"

He sighed, mumbling something under his breath.

"A group of adolescents attacked me on my way here, bound me, and dropped me in a room with a bunch of other captives. They proceeded to dress in horribly colored jumpsuits and make us dance to some song singing something about dogs. The stains are from the sauces on the hot dogs they slapped my fellow captives and I with. I just managed to escape."

The class, including me, was slack jawed.

Ms. Stacey fainted.

The man looked bewildered.

He looked around at us and asked, "What? What did I say?"

AN: Pretty useful talent isn't it? XD Lol. Please review!