rival, her worst nightmare. The two had always hated each other. She didn't even know why it was like that. It was just like that. Just as mathematics was disliked from birth, Maname disliked it from birth.

"Well, now I have to, otherwise I'll be late.", She urged and grabbed her rucksack.


"It's good, have fun and take care of yourself.", Patted her mother and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then released her into the desert that had opened up in front of her house.






It stung her stomach again as the big dark building rose before her, like a fortress from medieval times or an iceberg that suddenly rose threateningly from the fog.


Orange High School was the largest school in the country. Therefore, it was correspondingly huge. The main building had six floors, for the first to eighth grade classrooms alone. In addition, there was a house for the 9th to 12th grades and a house for the high school graduates and the students who went to the Mystral University located next door.


In front of the large gates of the school stretched the monstrous park in front of which the buses stopped and where the parents, who brought their children there themselves, unloaded their offspring.The street that wound around the large lawn that made up this park was filled with honking cars and screeching children.


Bulma quickened her pace when she checked her watch again and realized that she only had 4 minutes left to get to the top floor of the main track, with no elevator at all, of course.


Squeezing the two straps on her backpack, she hurried across the lawn, snaking through the crowds and crowds of cars, and then climbed the great stone staircase that led to the double glass door. Her gaze fell directly on a boy who was walking behind her, the small forecourt, in front of the stairs. She stopped and turned. He walked very quickly and with determination. There was not a soul next to him. His ripped jeans gave her a few moments to see his skin and his sleeveless shirt showed his muscular arms. His black hair lay wild on his head.

Without meaning to, she smiled and ran a hand through her hair. She pulled her shirt right and then ran her tongue over her lips again.


That was the only representative of the male species that didn't leave her indifferent. Son-Goku Xianji was his name. She'd known him since first grade, but he still didn't. The reason was as simple as it is devastating. She was too shy to speak to him. Once, in fifth grade, she believed, she even sat right behind him. However, the typical high school group rules also played their part. Son Goku was one of the so-called UFOs, the unknown flirting objects. He was basically a freak, but that only made him more attractive. Especially for the chearleaders and models and stupidly also for Maname Ling. In contrast to Bulma, of course she wasn't too shy to hit on him. She did it when she liked and where she liked, only strangely enough he never jumped at it, and Maname, according to the high school ranking, was the most sought-after student.

As Son-Goku climbed the stairs, her heart began to beat faster. She got hot. He was with her right away. She stood up straight, pushed her strands back behind her ear, smiled her brightest smile and pushed her chest out and he ........... went on up the stairs and disappeared into the school.


Bulma went limp and angrily kicked the next higher step, which was immediately thanked with a sore toe. And then the school bell rang. She quickly hurried up the last few steps, stormed through the door, and ran up the stairs. When she finally reached the sixth floor, breathing hard, she dragged herself to the door of class 8a.


With horror she noticed that the door was already closed and that no sound was booming outside. That was a bad sign, the teacher was already there. She uttered a low curse when she remembered that they always had Mr. Stiff in math on Mondays. He was the strictest teacher in the whole school, along with the principal, Mrs. Mambo.He had already read people detention for using the chalk the wrong way round.


Her legs were heavy as lead over the last few meters. What would she expect? A rebuke? An entry in the class register? A week of board wiping? Detention for a week?


She reached for the doorknob, straightened up, took a deep breath and then opened the door, ready to make a brisk apology. But it literally got stuck in her throat.


On the one hand because of the obvious absence of Mr. Stiff and on the other hand because of the sudden shower from above. She screamed and winced as the warm broth ran over her head.


Immediately the rest of the boys and girls started laughing and hooting. They pointed at them and held their bellies.


Bulma's heart raced and ached alike. It hurt so badly. She fell for one of her stupid jokes again. They laughed at her again. Again she was the mockery of the class.

When the downpour stopped, Bulma first looked at what had happened in the first place. A bucket had been fastened over the door. And now it was dangling halfway over her on a string. Her things were wet and filthy. Apparently they had put chalk in the warm water that had now spread over her. Her backpack also had a full load. Presumably her books and notebooks were also stuck together.


She blushed and looked at the floor as she fumbled for the two straps.


"Are you okay?" She suddenly heard someone ask.


She looked up and looked straight into his eyes. His black and innocent eyes that looked at her with genuine concern. Goku's eyes.


"Stupid question. How should I be," she hissed. He had laughed earlier too, she had seen that. He was just as mean as the others.


"Wait, I'll help you.", He replied and handed her her wet backpack.


"Thanks, but I'll be fine.", she hissed and snatched the part out of his hand, only to go to her seat, exasperated.


"Hey, Son-Goku darling, leave this board with legs alone and give me a kiss.", Maname whistled, not looking at Bulma.


Maname was very tall and very slim. Her long blonde hair shone like gold and her blue eyes looked out of a discreetly made-up face. Her clothes were very fashionable again.


"I'd rather kiss a camel's butt," he replied cynically and also went back to his seat. When he passed Bulma's seat, he smiled at her and winked one eye. Bulma only let out a stinky growl. Even if his smile looked cute, she was fed up with him. He had laughed earlier too. And so she vowed never again to waste a single thought on a boy and most definitely not on this one boy.


The last of the hustle and bustle ended when the tall, grave and old figure of Mr. Stiff entered.It could have come straight out of a 1960s film. His outfit could be described in one word: gray. His suit was gray, his pants were gray, his shoes were black and gray and his hair was gray too. Even his alert and debugging eyes were a bit greyish.


All the students got up and straightened their backs.


"Good morning!" Hissed the old man and slammed his briefcase on the dark brown table in front of him.


"Good morning, Mr. Stiff!" The class shouted in unison and then sat down again.


"Get out your books and please turn to page three and ........ Um. Miss Briefs, could you perhaps present us with an explanation for your, well, quite strange outfit?" He asked pointedly and walked slowly towards her to.


"Sure, Mr. Stiff. Someone like that baboon hung a bucket of water over the door and then let me run into the trap.", She replied and pointed to the door.

The teacher turned and then looked back again.


"So so. A baboon, then. And you are absolutely sure that there wasn’t an urangutan with you after all?" The painful, mocking undertone in the question went through her marrow and bone.


It was clear that he didn't believe her, even if she had shown him the whole thing on tape. Mr. Stiff had it on the kieker. And that's only because, quite simply, she always had an answer to all of his questions.


"Well, Miss Briefs, I'm still waiting for an answer."


She looked at the floor in shame. He had beaten her again, beaten her, showed her who was better.


"Well, it wasn't a urangutan, more like a gorilla.", It echoed from behind. Bulma and also Mr. Stiff turned around. Son-Goku had made the remark and was grinning cheekily at the teacher.


"Zja, Mr. Xianji, if you are so sure about the anatomy of Homo sapiens, then you won't mind showing me a ten-page report about the Capuchina monkey by tomorrow, will you?"

A couple gave a loud groan and Mr. Stiff went back to his desk. Bulma slid so low she almost fell off the chair. Now this guy, to whom she actually didn't even want to give a thought, had helped her and made her feel guilty.


Why did he defend her too? He should have known that such a remark always had consequences with this teacher. So why did he do it then? But what was that to her?


He had eaten the soup himself, it was not to blame.


"So, open your books. We stopped at page forty-three Friday. The calculations of chance. I bet you can tell me how to calculate the probability of rolling a six on a die."


Not a finger rose in the air. Normally Bulma would have done it, but the heat made it so hard to pay attention.


"Oh, please, please, not such a crowd."Mr. Stiff teased.




Towards the end of the lesson, almost everyone had their personal "Sorry, but I don't know" question. It was almost like a game. Even when a few answered, he always took the ones they held back.


Bulma, too, had only lifted her finger three times in the past forty minutes. That was a record low. But with the weather and then her clothes were still stuck everywhere.


"Miss