Dodging a few dozen kids doesn't seem safe to you, and climbing up this girl's leg seems even less safe -- you don't know what she'd do if she felt you, and you don't want to find out.
Instead, you slide carefully and quickly by her enormous feet and come to the purse strap. It's an easy climb up into the basket beneath her chair, made difficult only psychologically by the occasional enormous groan as the girl shifts slightly.
You reach the purse, and see that the denim bag is open just enough for you to slide inside. You figure this will be a good place to figure out how to get her attention.
Of course, it doesn't take long for you to realize that a teen girl's purse is not the neatest place. You push through kleenex and lipstick and past an enormous tampon until you find what looks to be a safe corner of the purse, by a compact and her wallet.
It isn't too much later that the bell sounds, and the girl grabs the purse and slings it over her shoulder, never stopping to consider that a tiny man might be screaming bloody murder as the contents of the bag shift. But there you are, dodging keys and notes and that blasted tampon as you try to avoid being crushed to death between here and the girl's next class.
It isn't long, though, before you arrive. At least, the swaying stops, and the bag is set down heavily. You hear loud voices all around you. You don't know it, but the girl's arrived....
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