Ten minutes pass, twenty minutes. Occasionally you wave at the window, but Bae’s resting aloof-face remains as disinclined to pay attention to things happening outside. Jinge, a stoner who you’ve never actually seen in a classroom, waves back, and then checks himself as Vic Vic takes this as a sign that he wishes to contribute to the session.
A little rain starts to fall, and the second year English Lit group in the next Portakabin wander out into the rain. They’re cool; they wear things like Depeche Mode T-shirts and German army surplus shirts. Would you ever dare to dress like that? Probably not.
The rain clears up and after a short eternity, Vic Vic wraps up for the morning. Jinge sprints out with an “orright mate!” as he ruffles your hair. You brush your hair back into order, dodging the other students coming out of the class until finally Bae saunters out, books clutched to her chest and her expression inturned.
Do you yell, “Bae you’ve got to help me! I need to use your fax machine”? (goto 19)
Or perhaps you could say “Hi Bae, I’ve got a huge favour to ask, if I’m allowed to do that sort of thing?” (goto 15)
Or maybe it’s time to give up. You’re too much of a worm for Bae to ever give you the time of day. (goto 68)