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So the Bee-Eyed Girl went to school everyday, picking her way through gray sidewalks and gray houses and gray people, bored of what her eyes saw and bored of what her ears heard and sometimes even bored of what her brain thought. She would sit in class and try to focus on some gray man in front of some gray board drone about some gray thing that had nothing to do with her. She drew pictures on her gray desk and was not surprised when they disappeared into the background, too gray to see.



Days passed, as they do on every planet, not just ours, and so did a lot of time. But the Bee-Eyed Girl was still the Bee-Eyed Girl, in class or at home or on the city bus. One day, as she sat at her desk, pushing her pencil hard into its wood to see if she could make a mark, there was a knock at the classroom door. She didn’t look up because she was pretty sure it would be a waste of effort but as she pushed down hard on her pencil, the lead broke and shot towards the gray neck in front of her and her eyes hit the front of the room.



Standing next to her gray teacher was the most amazing thing she could remember seeing. It was a tall boy with big shoulders and his face was pink and smiling and streaked with red. His arms were too long for his gray sweatshirt and they stuck out of his sleeves revealing purple and blue polka dotted skin. What the Bee-Eyed Girl could see was beautiful and somehow familiar and then he spoke! His voice was up and down and melodic and gorgeous and all at once the Bee-Eyed Girl stood up and yelled, “PLEASE COME HERE!”

Now it’s your turn to choose!
If the Flower-Faced Boy says, “Sure,” this is next.
If the Flower-Faced Boy says, “Sure sweet thing, and what’s your name?” go here.
If the Flower-Faced Boy says nothing but sits down next to the Bee-Eyed Girl anyway, go to this page.
If the Flower-Faced Boy refuses to sit with the Bee-Eyed Girl, i think you know what to do.