It wasn't until recently that I fully came to understand how thoroughly cruel the teenage years were. I didn't think things could possibly suck as bad as they can. I didn't know how putrid the high school food chain smelled, how vile it tasted. I didn't realize any of that, until I reached the top of it that is.
I know what you're thinking. "Kid, get over yourself... we all feel that way," you think this is just another one of those stupid sob stories, the ones that sit on the bottom of your English teachers book shelves collecting dust. But I swear this isn't one of those. This is the story of my life, the very life I hold dear even when it reaches it's lowest.
Before we get further though, I have a confession. I'm not the guy you usually read about. I wear glasses with lens so big they magnify my dull brown eyes. My jeans aren't designer, in fact, I'm lucky if they cover my ankles. I don't live in a big house. And I'm really not even a good person. If you're looking for a hero, I'm sorry to disappoint you.
"Way to go Fitch!" Aaron Gates yelled, slapping a high five with Garrett Fields. As I bent down to pick up my books, which Aaron had "accidentally" knocked from my hands, I made sure to take a mental note on what I thought of them at that particular moment. Actually, it's what I thought of them every moment, that they were hairless apes that girls mistook for charming young men.
Yes, I know that it seems cliché. A jock heartthrob cleaving poor defenseless me from my beloved text books. That's what you think isn't it? That I'm just some poor old nerd wearing a pocket protector in my breast pocket. Well, I guess that only goes to prove my point. You'll never think of me as anything more than a nerd, ever.
But that's where you're wrong, I'm not even smart! My grades, well, let's just say they aren't much higher than Aaron's. A pocket protector? I wouldn't be caught dead with one! Just because people think I'm a geek doesn't mean I TRY to dress the part! The unfortunate thing is that my family is embarrassingly poor, and all of my clothes are hand-me-downs from my older brother, who happens to be a computer programmer and a full two inches shorter than me.
But that's not really the point. I could have cared less what Aaron did to me, or what everyone thought of me. No, what really mattered was what he held in his grimy fingers. The perfectly tanned hand of an even more perfect girl.
Must I explain my Hannah? I'm sure you see her as that stereotypical bleach blond, big boobed, blue eyed, air head. But that's not Hannah. No, if those girls stood next to her for more than a moment I'm sure that no sensible boy in eye shot would ever look at them again. Hannah's father came to America from Egypt, and her mother from Italy. And I could not begin to explain the beauty that the two of them created when they conceived her.
If there was one thing I couldn't begin to understand it was how such an angel could possibly have anything to do with such a brute punk like Aaron. A boy like him didn't have the brain capacity to ever give my Hannah the attention she deserved.
As I picked up my last book I allowed my eyes to stray back to her while she walked away, hand in hand with my favorite ape. God, even from behind she was beautiful. Was it really possible that such a flawless face could be less attractive than the flitting of her skirt? At that moment it was all I could do not to stare longer. But it seemed that wasn't my choice.
Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my backside, startled I tried to stand, but not before my attacker collapsed on top of me, causing my head to ram straight into the floor. Groaning, I lifted it back slowly, adjusting my glasses so that I could see straight again. In front of me, sprawled rather immodestly was Laura Finkles, the very girl that made me look cool. "Oppsies!" she said giggling as she rearranged herself, God I hate that giggle "sorry about that Fitch! I didn't see ya down there! So what are you up to?" Do you know what else I hate about Laura? She just keeps talking! She'll go from one topic to the next before you process the first thing she said.
"I'm not up to anything Laura" I said, regathering my books. I was definitely going to be late for class now. I stood, and reluctantly helped Laura to her feet as well. "I was just enjoying the linoleum."
"Oh, I see!" giggle giggle "We're going to be replacing the linoleum in our kitchen next week! If you want you can come check it out!"
"Sorry Laura, I'm booked all week." Wow, this girl was an inch away from valedictorian and yet she was too stupid to understand my sarcasm.
Laura snorted, probably due to her allergies I suppose "that's okay! Maybe we can hang out some other time!" she smiled, her braces nearly blinding me, and then turned toward her next class. Within a few steps, I clearly saw a foot stretched out to trip her.
Laura gasped as she stumbled forward, but as soon as she'd righted herself she laughed and turned to the girl who'd tripped her "Sorry! I'm such a klutz! Have a nice day!"