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Description

Summary: An Invader Zim one-shot. Dib thinks that Gretchen might be different than the other kids in his class. Could be read as friendship- or romance-themed.
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"Point twelve: Zim's eyes—which you have all seen!—are obviously not human! What other humans do you know with big red compound eyes like a bug?! I mean, come on, people! Think for a minute!"
"I would like to point out that this is slander. SLAN-DER!"
Zita sighed as Dib and Zim glared at each other. "How does Dib manage to make every project about the same stupid thing?"
"Point thirteen," Dib continued, ignoring the muttering from Zim and the rest of the class. "Zim's so-called 'backpack.' It's made of metal! Why would anyone carry a metal backpack? That would be heavy and inconvenient! And who here's ever seen him take it off, huh?!"
"Well, you never take off your jacket!" someone called from the back.
Dib blinked. "Huh? Yes I do."
"When?!"
"When I...I dunno, take a bath?"
"Well, I take my backpack off when I bath, too."
"You don't bath—er, bathe! I refer you all back to point six, concerning Zim's obvious aversion to water—"
"Boo!"
"You stink, Dib!"
SPLAT!
"Gah!"
Dib let out a cry as a rotten tomato collided with the side of his head. The class erupted into laughter as Dib grimaced, trying to wipe the sticky gunk away. "Who would even bring that to class...?"
Ms. Bitters seemed to decide that this had gone on long enough. "Dib, that presentation had almost nothing to do with the War of 1812. You get a D. Now take your seat."
"But I had seventeen more—"
Ms. Bitters growled; Dib sighed and slunked back to his desk, dropping down carelessly back into his chair.
FFFFFTTTTT!
"EWW! Dib farted!"
The whole class erupted in laughter. Dib reached down to pull the whoopee cushion out from under him, staring at it for a moment with eyes narrowed in annoyance.
"...Really?" he deadpanned. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Zim laughing along with everyone else, though Dib wondered if he even understood the joke. Grimacing, Dib twisted the rubber bag into a ball and threw it over Aki and Poonchy's heads, hitting the top of Zim's wig. He let out a surprised yelp and then glared in Dib's direction.
After a few moments the laughter died down and someone else went up to give their report, leaving Dib to slump over his desk and try to ignore the uncomfortable sticky feeling on his left temple. He stared down at his notes, thirty carefully-chosen pieces of evidence about Zim that as usual, nobody wanted to listen to.
Something hit him in the ear. He spun around just in time to see Chunk hide a straw behind his back as everyone around him giggled. Dib's face began to burn as he turned away, ignoring the next spitball as it made his hair scythe totter.
Sometimes, Dib really hated people.
Dib opened his desk to store his notes away, then began digging through the clutter, wondering if he could at least find something to occupy his time. Maybe plan out his next intrusion into Zim's base or something...he had a rough layout of the subterranean tunnels in here somewhere...
Dib's hand met something squishy and slimy. He pulled out a moldy, half-eaten steak, gagging slightly as he held it away from his face. Ugh. Where had that come from? Probably left over from Valentine's Day, he thought. That made sense, as he recalled getting far more this year than he usually had and only eating a few of them. He had no idea why people had been so generous...
Actually, no, it wasn't "people." Now that he thought about it, the only person who had given him Valentine steaks had been Gretchen.
Dib blinked at this recollection and turned around in his seat. Gretchen was sitting in one of her usual seats in the back of the classroom. She didn't seem to be listening to the presentations—nobody really was—instead either doodling or writing, Dib couldn't tell which. She didn't seem to be taking in part of any of the murmuring conversations the other kids were engaged in, quietly keeping to herself with a small smile on her amazingly overbitten face.
Dib turned forward in his seat again, looking from Gretchen to the steak before dropping it back into his desk. That was sort of weird. He had never really figured out why Gretchen had given him so many Valentine steaks this year. Sure, they had been going to skool together for years, but Dib honestly didn't know her particularly well. They had never exactly been friends...or enemies, for that matter. Dib could imagine her giving him a Valentine's meat, but not a half-dozen steaks like she had.
That had sure been nice of her, Dib thought. After all, the only other meat he had gotten had been some weenies from Tak's enormous pile, and those she only gave to people so she could lure them into trusting her.
Wow. Maybe there's one kid in class who doesn't hate me, Dib thought. Maybe Gretchen was different than everybody else.
The bell rang. Dib jumped in his seat, startled out of his thought. Zim was the first one out of the door, eager to start on his next nefarious scheme for world domination, no doubt. The rest of the class followed, some even taking the windows for a quicker escape. Gretchen, however, got out of her seat and walked out the normal way, passing Dib's desk in the process. Dib blinked as he saw her coming and opened his mouth to speak, reaching out to grab her attention...
...and then didn't. His throat seemed to close up, and realizing he had no idea what to say he let his hand fall back as she walked by without making any sign of noticing him.
Dib frowned as he watched her walk out of the door, slowly climbing out of his own seat. And really, what was he supposed to say to her? Valentine's Day had been months ago; if he had forgotten to thank her for the meat then then it would seem weird to bring it up now. (Had he already thanked her? If so it would be equally weird to bring it up again.) Still, he should do...something to say thank you. It was the only sincerely nice gesture he had received the entire skool year, after all.
"Maybe I can get her something," Dib thought aloud, rubbing his chin as he exited the classroom. "I probably shouldn't get her meat back, it would be weird this late in the year...maybe soda? I...think I remember her saying she liked soda once. Well, everybody likes soda. Yeah...I'm sure she'll like that."
He suddenly smiled to himself, imagining a look of surprised thanks on Gretchen's face the next day. It would be nice, actually getting some gratitude for doing something for somebody. And he wouldn't even have to risk his life to do it this time!
Dib walked the rest of the way home practicing what he would say tomorrow and wondering about flavors, ignoring the sticky tomato juice on his face and any lingering questions about what Zim might be up to this afternoon.
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The next morning Dib exited the convenience store with a wide grin on his face, walking to skool with a six-pack of Poop Colas under his arm.
"Today is gonna be great," Dib sighed, turning the corner and walking past the skoolyard gate. He hoped he could find Gretchen before class started...he could always store the sodas in his desk until lunch, but they would probably be warm by then. He felt optimistic yet somehow strangely awkward. He wasn't usually one to feel nervous about talking to people (even loudly and against their wishes), but something like this made him feel strange. Admittedly he was still a little new to the whole concept of "friendly conversation"—
Somebody stuck their foot out as Dib walked into the skoolyard.
Dib let out a cry and tripped, falling flat on his face. The case of soda under his arm hit the ground too, two of the cans exploding on the sidewalk and splashing him with Poop.
Everyone in the skoolyard seemed to burst into laughter as Dib groaned, climbing onto his hands and knees.
"Here, let me help you up," a voice said. Dib blinked, turning confused at the kind offer—only to be suddenly pulled up by a painful wedgie, grimacing in pain as its perpetrator, Rob, let him fall back into the puddle of soda again. Renewed laughter ripped through the crowd. Dib adjusted his wet and tilted glasses as he looked up, glaring at the crowd in fury—
—and saw Gretchen laughing five feet in front of him.
Dib felt like somebody had slapped him, and it took his mind a moment to reorient itself and make sure of what he was really seeing. But no, that was definitely Gretchen, taking as much pleasure in his humiliation as all the other kids around her, head thrown back in uproarious laughter. Dib was struck by how nasty she looked. Of course he had always noticed her huge teeth and ugly braces, but yesterday in class she had had a shy little smile that made her look friendly and cute. Today her wide-mouthed laughter made her exposed gums look downright freakish, and her eyes held him in just as much cruel amusement as anyone else in the crowd. Her laughter was as nasally as her voice, giving Dib the image of her as a deformed pig with three hairy purple tails growing out of her head.
Dib's stunned expression turned angry, and he grabbed the remaining sodas, climbing to his feet. Without looking at anyone—especially that nasty, ugly girl—he ran through the crowd of gawkers. He made his way around to the corner of the building to where the Dumpsters were, where it was shady and dirty and he could only faintly hear the echoing laughter of his hated classmates.
Dib pulled one of the unbroken Poop cans from its plastic holder, squeezing the cool metal in his fingers. Then he let out a strangled cry and heaved it against the skool, where it exploded against the brick wall and splashed a sticky mist right back in his face. Dib ignored that and took the next can, bouncing it in his hand for a moment like a baseball.
"Here, I bought you some soda, Gretchen!" THUD-SPLASH! "I actually thought one person might be different!" THUD-SPLASH! "But no, you were the same as Tak, the same as Dwicky, the same as everyone, weren't you!" THUD-SPLASH!
Dib threw the last soda and watched it burst on the wall, the carbonated liquid slowly oozing down to the concrete. Then he took the plastic rings with the two empty cans and angrily lobbed it into the skool Dumpster. An angry hobo stuck his head out to shake his fist at him, but Dib was already gone, glaring down at his feet as he stormed, wet and dirty and humiliated, into the building for another friendless day of class.

Description

Summary: An Invader Zim one-shot. Dib thinks that Gretchen might be different than the other kids in his class. Could be read as friendship- or romance-themed.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Point twelve: Zim's eyes—which you have all seen!—are obviously not human! What other humans do you know with big red compound eyes like a bug?! I mean, come on, people! Think for a minute!"
"I would like to point out that this is slander. SLAN-DER!"
Zita sighed as Dib and Zim glared at each other. "How does Dib manage to make every project about the same stupid thing?"
"Point thirteen," Dib continued, ignoring the muttering from Zim and the rest of the class. "Zim's so-called 'backpack.' It's made of metal! Why would anyone carry a metal backpack? That would be heavy and inconvenient! And who here's ever seen him take it off, huh?!"
"Well, you never take off your jacket!" someone called from the back.
Dib blinked. "Huh? Yes I do."
"When?!"
"When I...I dunno, take a bath?"
"Well, I take my backpack off when I bath, too."
"You don't bath—er, bathe! I refer you all back to point six, concerning Zim's obvious aversion to water—"
"Boo!"
"You stink, Dib!"
SPLAT!
"Gah!"
Dib let out a cry as a rotten tomato collided with the side of his head. The class erupted into laughter as Dib grimaced, trying to wipe the sticky gunk away. "Who would even bring that to class...?"
Ms. Bitters seemed to decide that this had gone on long enough. "Dib, that presentation had almost nothing to do with the War of 1812. You get a D. Now take your seat."
"But I had seventeen more—"
Ms. Bitters growled; Dib sighed and slunked back to his desk, dropping down carelessly back into his chair.
FFFFFTTTTT!
"EWW! Dib farted!"
The whole class erupted in laughter. Dib reached down to pull the whoopee cushion out from under him, staring at it for a moment with eyes narrowed in annoyance.
"...Really?" he deadpanned. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Zim laughing along with everyone else, though Dib wondered if he even understood the joke. Grimacing, Dib twisted the rubber bag into a ball and threw it over Aki and Poonchy's heads, hitting the top of Zim's wig. He let out a surprised yelp and then glared in Dib's direction.
After a few moments the laughter died down and someone else went up to give their report, leaving Dib to slump over his desk and try to ignore the uncomfortable sticky feeling on his left temple. He stared down at his notes, thirty carefully-chosen pieces of evidence about Zim that as usual, nobody wanted to listen to.
Something hit him in the ear. He spun around just in time to see Chunk hide a straw behind his back as everyone around him giggled. Dib's face began to burn as he turned away, ignoring the next spitball as it made his hair scythe totter.
Sometimes, Dib really hated people.
Dib opened his desk to store his notes away, then began digging through the clutter, wondering if he could at least find something to occupy his time. Maybe plan out his next intrusion into Zim's base or something...he had a rough layout of the subterranean tunnels in here somewhere...
Dib's hand met something squishy and slimy. He pulled out a moldy, half-eaten steak, gagging slightly as he held it away from his face. Ugh. Where had that come from? Probably left over from Valentine's Day, he thought. That made sense, as he recalled getting far more this year than he usually had and only eating a few of them. He had no idea why people had been so generous...
Actually, no, it wasn't "people." Now that he thought about it, the only person who had given him Valentine steaks had been Gretchen.
Dib blinked at this recollection and turned around in his seat. Gretchen was sitting in one of her usual seats in the back of the classroom. She didn't seem to be listening to the presentations—nobody really was—instead either doodling or writing, Dib couldn't tell which. She didn't seem to be taking in part of any of the murmuring conversations the other kids were engaged in, quietly keeping to herself with a small smile on her amazingly overbitten face.
Dib turned forward in his seat again, looking from Gretchen to the steak before dropping it back into his desk. That was sort of weird. He had never really figured out why Gretchen had given him so many Valentine steaks this year. Sure, they had been going to skool together for years, but Dib honestly didn't know her particularly well. They had never exactly been friends...or enemies, for that matter. Dib could imagine her giving him a Valentine's meat, but not a half-dozen steaks like she had.
That had sure been nice of her, Dib thought. After all, the only other meat he had gotten had been some weenies from Tak's enormous pile, and those she only gave to people so she could lure them into trusting her.
Wow. Maybe there's one kid in class who doesn't hate me, Dib thought. Maybe Gretchen was different than everybody else.
The bell rang. Dib jumped in his seat, startled out of his thought. Zim was the first one out of the door, eager to start on his next nefarious scheme for world domination, no doubt. The rest of the class followed, some even taking the windows for a quicker escape. Gretchen, however, got out of her seat and walked out the normal way, passing Dib's desk in the process. Dib blinked as he saw her coming and opened his mouth to speak, reaching out to grab her attention...
...and then didn't. His throat seemed to close up, and realizing he had no idea what to say he let his hand fall back as she walked by without making any sign of noticing him.
Dib frowned as he watched her walk out of the door, slowly climbing out of his own seat. And really, what was he supposed to say to her? Valentine's Day had been months ago; if he had forgotten to thank her for the meat then then it would seem weird to bring it up now. (Had he already thanked her? If so it would be equally weird to bring it up again.) Still, he should do...something to say thank you. It was the only sincerely nice gesture he had received the entire skool year, after all.
"Maybe I can get her something," Dib thought aloud, rubbing his chin as he exited the classroom. "I probably shouldn't get her meat back, it would be weird this late in the year...maybe soda? I...think I remember her saying she liked soda once. Well, everybody likes soda. Yeah...I'm sure she'll like that."
He suddenly smiled to himself, imagining a look of surprised thanks on Gretchen's face the next day. It would be nice, actually getting some gratitude for doing something for somebody. And he wouldn't even have to risk his life to do it this time!
Dib walked the rest of the way home practicing what he would say tomorrow and wondering about flavors, ignoring the sticky tomato juice on his face and any lingering questions about what Zim might be up to this afternoon.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The next morning Dib exited the convenience store with a wide grin on his face, walking to skool with a six-pack of Poop Colas under his arm.
"Today is gonna be great," Dib sighed, turning the corner and walking past the skoolyard gate. He hoped he could find Gretchen before class started...he could always store the sodas in his desk until lunch, but they would probably be warm by then. He felt optimistic yet somehow strangely awkward. He wasn't usually one to feel nervous about talking to people (even loudly and against their wishes), but something like this made him feel strange. Admittedly he was still a little new to the whole concept of "friendly conversation"—
Somebody stuck their foot out as Dib walked into the skoolyard.
Dib let out a cry and tripped, falling flat on his face. The case of soda under his arm hit the ground too, two of the cans exploding on the sidewalk and splashing him with Poop.
Everyone in the skoolyard seemed to burst into laughter as Dib groaned, climbing onto his hands and knees.
"Here, let me help you up," a voice said. Dib blinked, turning confused at the kind offer—only to be suddenly pulled up by a painful wedgie, grimacing in pain as its perpetrator, Rob, let him fall back into the puddle of soda again. Renewed laughter ripped through the crowd. Dib adjusted his wet and tilted glasses as he looked up, glaring at the crowd in fury—
—and saw Gretchen laughing five feet in front of him.
Dib felt like somebody had slapped him, and it took his mind a moment to reorient itself and make sure of what he was really seeing. But no, that was definitely Gretchen, taking as much pleasure in his humiliation as all the other kids around her, head thrown back in uproarious laughter. Dib was struck by how nasty she looked. Of course he had always noticed her huge teeth and ugly braces, but yesterday in class she had had a shy little smile that made her look friendly and cute. Today her wide-mouthed laughter made her exposed gums look downright freakish, and her eyes held him in just as much cruel amusement as anyone else in the crowd. Her laughter was as nasally as her voice, giving Dib the image of her as a deformed pig with three hairy purple tails growing out of her head.
Dib's stunned expression turned angry, and he grabbed the remaining sodas, climbing to his feet. Without looking at anyone—especially that nasty, ugly girl—he ran through the crowd of gawkers. He made his way around to the corner of the building to where the Dumpsters were, where it was shady and dirty and he could only faintly hear the echoing laughter of his hated classmates.
Dib pulled one of the unbroken Poop cans from its plastic holder, squeezing the cool metal in his fingers. Then he let out a strangled cry and heaved it against the skool, where it exploded against the brick wall and splashed a sticky mist right back in his face. Dib ignored that and took the next can, bouncing it in his hand for a moment like a baseball.
"Here, I bought you some soda, Gretchen!" THUD-SPLASH! "I actually thought one person might be different!" THUD-SPLASH! "But no, you were the same as Tak, the same as Dwicky, the same as everyone, weren't you!" THUD-SPLASH!
Dib threw the last soda and watched it burst on the wall, the carbonated liquid slowly oozing down to the concrete. Then he took the plastic rings with the two empty cans and angrily lobbed it into the skool Dumpster. An angry hobo stuck his head out to shake his fist at him, but Dib was already gone, glaring down at his feet as he stormed, wet and dirty and humiliated, into the building for another friendless day of class.