First period class was fine, as usual. Ms. Bridgewater had been teaching the same history class for the same way for the last 20 years or so, and saw no real to improve her teaching style now. Occasionally it was interesting, but for the most part, it was a steady stream of history facts that students had best just sit there and take notes. Jon's mind drifted a little here and there, distracted by kicking himself over his last two wishes, trying to think of ways to limit the damage, and also fix Karyn's problems too - and then he'd snap back to attention and quickly try to scribble down whatever was written on the board.
With about 20 minutes of class left, and his notes not a total disaster, Jon's pen ran out of ink. He scratched at the paper rapidly like one does, seeing if maybe - no, it was dead. Not a big deal, but of course he didn't have another.
Ms. Bridgewater noticed the sudden rapid scratching. "Is there a problem, Jon?"
Jon shook his head. "No, sorry, my pen just ran out of ink. Didn't mean to be distracting."
"Here, Jon." Jon turned to his right. Sitting behind Nelson was Holly Raymond, one of the artsy students he rarely interacted with. Her latest work was usually on display somewhere in the school building, and Jon always recognized it as very good art, even if it was usually a little overly ornate and pretty. He looked at her, and saw - today she had been taking notes with a purple pen that had a feathery and glittery pom-pom sticking off the top.
"Need a pen? Copy off mine," Holly smiled. And she pulled an exact duplicate of her floofy purple pen out of her own, and handed it to Jon before he could say no.
"Um, thanks, Holly," Jon stammered.
"No problem," she cheerfully responded.
Ms. Bridgewater tapped her chalk on the board. "Thank you, Holly. Now let's get back to discussing the trade ramifications and the impact on the agricultural society."
Class shifted back into the routine, but Jon's thoughts were going a mile a minute inside his head. What had the wish been? That he could 'copy off of them if he forgot or needed it'. The wish had been way too broad, just like he was worried about. Now he couldn't let people see whenever he forgot anything, and he needed to make sure that he didn't necessarily need anything either, right? How in hell could he pull that off?
The bell rang, and everyone stood up to head out. Jon grabbed his notebook and immediately winced, pulling his hand back. "Damn it, a paper cut," he muttered. Just a usual and annoying thing to happen.
Some kid Jon didn't know came up the aisle behind him. "Paper cut? That sucks, dude." The guy shook his head. "Here, copy off me." And he put his finger to Jon's sliced finger, and the next thing he knew, the pain was gone. The guy nodded at Jon and kept moving.
Jon looked over his finger. Everything looked the same - it was still his finger, not something sized incorrectly for his hand - but the paper cut was gone.
Well, Jon thought, maybe there's some potential for this wish. Karyn's still going to kill me, though, and I don't blame her. He grabbed his notebook and his new floofy purple pen and headed off to his locker.
