Double Trouble

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So, it turned out that the sketchy Craigslist guy that wanted to buy all of the coconuts was Principal Afton. The exchange that followed the moment of realization was very awkward.

On Monday, when I went back to school, I passed by his office and saw that his chair had been replaced by a throne made out of coconuts.

It was... really something.

I speed walked my way to Schmidt's class after that.

There were only three individuals in the classroom when I arrived: some guy I didn't know, Bon-Bon, and Freddy (who was slumped awkwardly in his chair and snoring rather loudly).

Because Freddy was very obviously asleep, it scared the hell out of me when I took my seat and Bon-Bon fucking spoke to me.

"Hey, Pigtails, you see that throne in Afton's office?"

After making sure that I was, in fact, not hallucinating, I responded with, "Uh... yeah."

"It's fucking weird, isn't it?"

"Yep... pretty weird."

"Yo, Baby!"

I paused my conversation with Bon-Bon to turn and look at Leslie, who was entering the classroom. "What's—" I stopped myself.

She was wearing a red flannel, a white KoЯn t-shirt, baggy jeans, and a pair of dirty red high top Converse.

"I... Wait, are you supposed to be me?"

"No, I'm not supposed to be you," she tucked her t-shirt into her belt and reached into her bag to pull out a red wig and white headphones (which she then proceeded to put on), "I am you."

I remained silent for a moment, unsure of how to react.

I mean, how are you supposed to react when one of your friends becomes you?

"Follow up question, why are you me?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Just 'cause."

"Oh, okay. That explains nothing."

What was the weirdest part of my Monday so far? The coconut throne, a puppet speaking to me while his puppeteer was sleeping, or my friend coming to school dressed like me for literally no reason? It was honestly hard to tell.

"Miss Tenner—"

Leslie turned to face Mr. Schmidt, who stopped in his tracks. "S'up, teach?"

"You are not Miss Tenner..."

"Yeah, I am," I said.

"Okay... I don't even want to know." He walked over and handed me a piece of homework. "Here's the paper that I thought you didn't turn in. Turns out that I just misplaced it."

"Oh, cool. Thanks."

Mr. Schmidt headed over to his desk and Leslie took her seat.

Freddy finally woke up.

He got one look at me and Leslie before he jumped and screamed, "BABY, Y-Y-YOU'VE B-BEEN CLONED!"

I think he managed to make me even more hard of hearing than I already was.

"AND TH-THE CLONE REPLACED MY GIRLFRIEND! WHAT'D Y-YOU DO WITH H-HER!?" He pointed at Leslie accusingly.

"Fred. I am your girlfriend. And Baby wasn't cloned, I'm just dressed up like her."

"OH. W-WELL, THAT MAKES SENSE."

"You jumped so hard that you completely messed up your hair, ya dweeb." Leslie pushed Freddy's bleached hair back so that it wasn't falling into his face anymore.

"I REALLY W-WASN'T EXPECTING Y-Y-Y... EXPECTING YOU TO LOOK LIKE TH-THAT."

"I don't think anybody was," I said.

During French class, I tried to tell Blair that Leslie had become me but she wouldn't believe me.

I didn't blame her.

When lunch rolled around, and Blair finally got to see what Leslie looked like, she started laughing and wouldn't stop. "Oh my god, you even put blush and fake freckles on your face."

"Actually, I had Fal do it for me 'cause I don't know jack shit about makeup."

"Not a request that I expected to get at 5:30 in the morning, but I was happy to oblige because she never lets me put makeup on her face," Fallon said.

"That's amazing. This is amazing."

"Are you good now?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think I'm done laughing for now." Blair took the vacant spot next to me in the booth.

"Y'know, I feel like I need to get you back for trying to steal my identity and, somehow, sort of succeeding despite being eight inches taller than me and having facial features that don't look even remotely like mine."

"What're you gonna do, dude? Steal my identity?"

"I could, but that sounds like a lotta work and I'm really lazy. I'll probably just throw a snowball at your head when you're least expecting it because that sounds fun and easy."

"The only way I ain't gonna see you coming is if you do it from real far away, which you definitely can't do."

"Don't doubt me, Leslie. I played baseball from first grade up until eighth grade and I can really throw a fucking ball."

"It's true," Blair chimed in. "I've witnessed it firsthand."

"Could you maybe give us some details?" Fallon asked.

"I won't say much, but I will let you know that it was the best thing I had witnessed that week. And that it involved Eddie and a balloon filled with peanut butter that he attempted to throw at her."

"I still don't feel threatened, but I do wish that I had also gotten to witness whatever the fuck you saw 'cause it sounds great."

Eventually, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

"Walk with me to class." Blair shook me a bit, dragging out the word 'class' as long as she could.

"Okay," I replied, dragging the word out for equally as long.

We bid our goodbyes to the others, made our way out of the stampede that was forming in the cafeteria, and I took her hand.

"You would look really good in a leather jacket."

'Well, that was abrupt.'

"Where'd that come from?"

"I was thinking about what it would be like if you did try to become Leslie and the mental image included a leather jacket because you know, she wears them a lot," Blair explained. "And now I feel like I really need to see you in a leather jacket."

"I own one."

"Wear it. Please."

"Will do."

We passed by Afton's office and spared another glance at the coconut throne.

"Do you think it's uncomfortable?" she asked.

"Hundred percent. There's no way that that thing wouldn't hurt your ass."

"I still kinda wanna sit on it."

"...same."

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