Ever had that feeling, you know, that tension, that bone crushing tension that just sits on your shoulders makes you think, “Oh, my god, how the hell am I ever going to get anything done?!” You can’t stop thinking about it, and you say, “Oh, I’ll do it,”, but then you never do? Because you had so much other stuff to do, that you didn’t have time for that one thing? That one thing constantly gets pushed to the side, to the bottom of the list, while everything else gets stacked on top of it. Then, the list gets way too long and you don’t know what to do. At this point, you’re so frustrated you could pull your hair out or something, all because of one little six letter word…
Yeah, stress. You know, you’ve got so much on your plate and you just don’t know how to handle it? It’s probably one of the hardest things to deal with, next to guilt. Nobody likes stress. Nobody likes having tons of stuff on their plate that they just can’t handle.
Unless, of course, you were a certain happy-go-lucky hyper American blonde named Alfred. Well, he didn’t like the stress, as much as he just didn’t even care.
“Alfred, this project was due two weeks ago, and you still haven‘t turned it in.”
“I’m still working on the one from two months ago.”
“Alfred, you need to go to the grocery store and get some things for dinner, unless you don’t want to eat.”
“Mom, the grocery store isn‘t going anywhere.”
“Alfred, you need to finish your homework, or you’ll get a bad grade.”
“Pft, my teachers love me. They wouldn‘t do that.”
These types of things were all you’d ever hear from Alfred. Now, a lot of people may think, “Well, that’s just procrastination,” but that wasn’t case. Procrastination is when you feel your award for getting something done right away isn’t immediate, so you don’t do it right away. For example, if someone said, “I’ll give you 10 dollars if you’ll take out the trash,” and someone else said, “I’ll give you 10 dollars a week for taking out my trash for 10 weeks,” most people would accept the first choice, seeing as how the reward is immediate, even though with the other choice, you‘d end with 100 dollars.
Alfred would have said, “You’ve got two legs, too, dude. I’m about to beat my high score in Temple Run, so I can’t right now.”
It was probably the most annoying thing ever.
Seeing as how the two of you were always paired together for projects. You know, the teachers do the whole, “maybe-if-I-pair-the-slacker-with-the-good-kid-they’ll-actually-do-well” kind of thing.
Everyone knows the good kid always does the work.
You’d tried and tried to tell your teacher this plenty of times before, yet here you sat, across from said slacker, who was making a paper airplane.
He continued to fold the paper.
You put your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. You had a project or paper in every class, plus homework, plus things you had to do at home. You groaned. You didn’t have time to be sitting here, messing with this idiot!
You slammed your hand on the table.
You jumped and looked up at you. “Whoa, (y/n), calm down.”
You looked at him. Why did he look so calm? He had more to do than you, yet he still managed to not get stressed out?
He kicked back, playing with his paper airplane.
“Mitochondria,” You said.
“The mitochondria of a cell. What do they do?”
“Have we even learned that yet?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, we have. We even looked at cells yesterday.”
“Whoa… I don’t remember that,” He laughed. He was writing on the paper airplane now.
You groaned in frustration. “This isn’t funny!”
You stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind you. Why did he think everything was such a joke?
Alfred looked down at the giant poster board on the table. He hadn’t even been paying attention to what they were doing. That must have been why (y/n) was so mad.
He could have smacked himself. He hadn’t helped at all with this project. It was one thing to not do his own work, but (y/n) had even helped him with homework, and got paired with him on every project. If they didn’t finish, she’d get a bad grade, too.
He picked up the poster board and paper airplane and walked out. He wasn’t going to let (y/n) down.
You walked into class the next day, extremely upset. You knew your project wasn’t done. Alfred never finished projects! Why had you been so stupid as to leave it with him?
He walked in, looking calm as usual. And.. A little anxious.
You didn’t know what his deal was. He probably had a date or something tonight. Maybe he’d finally beat his high score in Temple Run.
You watched the other students present their science projects. You swallowed hard when the teacher said your name.
Alfred walked up confidently, and grabbed something from behind the teacher’s desk.
He put a completely finished, perfectly done poster in front of the class.
You gaped at it.
He smiled proudly.
At the end of the presentation, you were convinced you still had a look of shock on your face.
Alfred walked over to your desk and slammed his hand down, making you jump.
“By the way,” he said, “the mitochondria produce energy for the cell.”
You smiled. “Yes, they do.”
During your last class of the day, while you were taking notes, something hit the back of your head. You looked on the ground to see a paper airplane.
“You and me, tomorrow night, 6?” It read.
You looked back at Alfred and smiled.
Until the paper was snatched from your hands.
“Alfred, (y/n), detention tomorrow.”
You glared at him, but he just laughed.
For some reason, you couldn’t help but laugh too.