Summary: The journeys of a one dollar bill and one girl trying to borrow another one. Not really that crappy. I got an A on it in English class and just wanted to know what people here thought. It's a humor story.

Disclaimer: Mine.


On her way to school, seventeen year-old Terry Mitchell fumbled in her pastel purple purse to search for her peppermint lip gloss, sifting through the crumpled dollar bills, spare change, and random phone numbers. Pulling out the small case of lip glosss, a stray dollar bill that had drifted away from the wad had snagged on her ring and the friction of her hand leaving the purse freed it from it's pastel purple prison.

A speck of green caught her eye as the dollar bill floated like a snowflake in early winter to the early June ground. She snatched at it, hoping to catch it before it hit the ground. She failed miserably and a sudden draft ran away with it, leaving Terry to chase after it in vain and watch as it moved into the middle of the street where the wheels of an oncoming car caught it and carried it away into the wind.

Terry saw it flit down to God-knows-where and leaving her with just enough money for lunch, but not for the bus.

Hearing her name called, she turned away and ran to her friend Cassidy.

"Hey, Terry!" Cassidy called. "Like, what were you chasing? Did you see a squirrel or somethin'?"

"Oh, very funny," Terry said sarcastically, brushing two locks of purple hair away that always hung in her face. They moved back in front of her face again. "Some of my money got away. It's probably in some gutter right now, which, like, totally sucks 'cause now I have, like, no money for the bus." Everything about Terry Mitchell was purple. Her short hair with two strands in the front were purple. Her purse was purple. Her shirt was purple. Even her finger and toenails were painted purple.

"I'll lend you some. Here." Cassidy, on the other hand, was a small blonde who were anything she could find . . . as long as it was sparkly and colorful and matched the many bracelets she had gotten at various raves. She was a year younger than Terry and looked calmer, more innocent. "Neeeever min," Cassidy said, taking her hand from her small, leather backpack. "I have, like, no money at all."

"I dunno. Maybe I can leech off of my good ol' friend - Alex!" she trilled, turning her statement into a greeting.

"Huh? What?" He turned to Cassidy. "Wha'does she want?"

"Just one dollar," she pouted, trying unsuccessfully to gain his favor. "One little dollar."

"How 'bout . . . No?"

"Ah, you suck."

"Ahhh," Cassidy smiled, "the conventional way of getting what you want: telling everyone they suck."

"Shut-up," Terry muttered.

Meanwhile, the dollar bill that Terry had lost only a moment ago had flitted away to a sidewalk a block away from the public high school. Landing on the pavement, it was stepped on by a fourteen year-old freshman who - due to a blessed teacher conference - had gotten the day off and was roaming the streets, searching for a store to meaninglessly waste her money in.

Andrea Shane picked up her foot curiously to reveal the unsuspected treasure she had so carelessy stepped on. "Sweet!" She examined the prize, straightening it and thinking how lucky she was that she, and not someone else, had discovered the dollar bill with a purple smiley face drawn over George Washington's ridiculously large head. "What the - ?" she frowned. She shrugged and put the dollar bill in her pocket with the rest, searching for a Noah's Bagels to buy her breakfast, which she had skipped in order to get a head start on her loitering.

Feeling very unsuccessful and very hungry, she decided to settle for a scone at Starbuck's, which, undoubtedly, was more than easy to find. Andrea handed over the dollar she had found and accepted the change, happy to be getting rif og the luminous purple head of the George Washington bill. She checked her watch, surprised to see that it was already 10:00.

The man behind her had already bought a mocchachino and was waiting to be given the dollar and five cents that he needed. Out of the corner of her eye, Andrea saw him pause to look at the dollar, then slip it into his wallet. She found a sudden satisfaction by knowing that someone else had acquired it.

Terry, on the other hand, did not.

"Puh-lease let me borrow a dollar," Terry begged her friend Patrick.

"No! For the last time no!"

"Fine," Terry conceded. "Then at least give me change."

"At least give you change? You act like I owe it to you!" Patrick said, surprised at how immature Terry was being. Then it crossed his mind that he was talking to Terry and he was no longer surprised. "Besides," he added, "I only got bills. And these are for my lunch."

" . . . I hate you." Terry was silent for a while, arms crossed over her chest and staring at the concrete. "Alright," she said, coming to a conclusion. "If I promise to pay you back, can I have the money?"

Patrick looked at her incredulously. After a moment, he said, "You still owe me for last time." Then it was Terry Mitchell's turn to pause. "Why don't you just ask my sister?" he offered, hoping she would stop irritating him.

"Claire?!" Terry exclaimed. "She never has any money! And if she does, she wouldn't give it to me!"

"Sucks for you then. See ya."

Terry stared after him, wishing that she had never tried to retrieve her peppermint lip gloss from her pastel purple purse and lost her busfare.

The dollar was still floating from hand to hand. After Andrea had paid for her scone, it had fallen into the possession of a man receiving change for his mocchachino. After journeying down the street a bit, he had dropped it into a styrofoam cup in front of a homeless woman muttering to herself incoherently. He received a muffled "God bless you" and a "Thank you" and kept walking down the street.

At that time, it was 10:30 and Cassidy was talking in class.

"Ssst! Claire!" she hissed to the strawberry blonde girl sitting just diaganol from her.

Claire shut her eyes and opened them slowly in exasperation before turning around in her seat. "Cassidy?"

"Uh-huh?" she asked.

"You don't have to whisper. We have a substitute and free-time. Now what do you want?"

Cassidy looked up at the substitute teacher who was sitting at the desk and flipping the page of a book title Kiss of the Spider Woman. Cassidy guessed that it was an erotic book about Spiderman's girlfriend or something. "Oh," she said, then turned back to Claire. "Claire, Terry lost some money and she wanted to know if she could borrow a dollar from you for busfare."

"Why didn't she ask me herself?"

"She thinks you don't like her," Cassidy said, knowing full well that Claire treated everyone as though she didn't like them.

"I . . . tolerate her," Claire said. "I'd lend her some, but I don't trust her to pay me back and I don't have any money anyways."

"Oh." Cassidy sat back in her seat. "Do you know someone who does?"

"Try Patrick. He's not very smart."

"Awww, Claire, that's mean."

"Naive, I mean. He'd lend Terry some," Claire insisted.

Cassidy shook her head and leaned back into her seat again. "No, we already asked him. He said go to you."

"Gee," Claire said dryly, "how thoughtful of him." Claire turned back to her binder and notebook papers and concentrated on some math problems before moving on to science.

At 12:00, lunchtime, Terry, Cassidy, Claire, Patrick, and Alex were still searching for someone who was naive enough to actually lend someone like Terry money. So far, they had come up with nothing. Which surprised no one but Terry.

As they sat together at their usual table in the spacious cafeteria, the purple-headed George Washington had been used to pay for a BigMac at a McDonald's and then had been given back as change again. Afterwards, it had been pickpocketed and dropped until it finally came to rest on the floor of a movie theater.

"That will be $5.75, please," the college student said, handing the middle-aged man is Reese's Peanut Butter Cup and medium Dr. Pepper.

"Oh, geez," he said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing $4.75.

"Uhmmm," Trevor said, "You're a little short."

"I know, I know, hold on."

"Do ya wanna put something back?"

"No, I got it." As he was looking down, a slip of paper caught his eye: a green and purple dollar bill. "Hey! Lookie here!" He bent down and added the dollar to the pile.

"Thanks," Trevor said, unenthusiastically, unsure why he had to thank him when he was obeying the law. As he was putting the money into the cash register, however, the face of George Washington caught his eye and he laughed. "Well, that's cute!" she said. "Hey, Madison, look at this!"

His friend walked over. "What? What is it?" Then she saw the happy face smiling back at her and laughed as well. "That is cute! Did you do that?" she smiled back at Trevor.

Trevor looked at her and raised his eyebrows. "Do I look like the kind of person that would draw a purple happy face of Georgie-Boy's head?"

"Good point. Hold on. I gotta show this to the manager," she said, taking it from Trevor and walking to the back room. "She's gonna love this. Charlotte!" she called, waving the dollar bill."

Charlotte Kincaid, too, appreciated the humor of the dollar bill and exchanged her plain dollar for the one with the happy face.

At 3:00, she left work, changing shifts with Donovan Montclair, she took began her trek home at the same time Terry was moping out of her classroom, unable to find a donor for her cause. She had asked Gina, a freshman that Patrick and Claire knew, Patrick's girlfriend, Hannah, and three other friends named Sophie, Aurora, and Gardina.

All of them were too smart for her and wouldn't give her the money, though she had gotten an offer from Hannah to drive her home, which would have been ten minutes out of her way. Terry decline politely and found herself walking slowly to the front of the school.

At the same time, while Terry was inside, Charlotte's purse became snagged on a bush, the dollar bill slipping out and becoming entangled in the twigs, face up and the corners fluttering in the early June breeze. Charlotte was gone by the time Terry came out of the building and was within ten feet of the bush.

"Hey! My dollar!" Terry shouted, recognizing the charming purple face of George Washington, smiling back at her. As she trotted towards it, however, a small, grey and brown bird swooped down and caught the piece of paper in it's talons, ripping it out of the bush. Terry Mitchell stared in dismay as her dollar bill was placed in the bird's nest and was ripped to shreds beneath the bird's claws and scattered about the nest.

Terry walked home that day.