A\N Uh, not much to say here except this is my first story, my back is itchy, and I'm really in the mood for some Chinese food...
Allan Klouse- He's two hundred and seventy five pounds of pure beef jerky, hot gas, and sweat. He is a gigantic oaf who wears chain belts (so out of season now) and who likes to constantly remind one Spencer of how much of a "dirty motherfucking cocksucker" he is. Someone really needs to feed him some soap for that dirty mouth.
Alex Venten- He didn't say thank you when Spencer so graciously took time out of his schedule to open the door for him. It wounded Spencer into going to the hospital of a broken heart, and Alex was able to make it to class on time. That douchebaglet.
Maggie looks up from my notebook. "Okay, two things. One, what's a douchebaglet?"
"A baglet of douche." I supply.
"Got it. And two, really? He makes it in because he didn't say thanks? Really, Spence?" She asks, giving me a look.
"Yes really." I say back. "I was running late too! But I was nice and helped him out, and I ended up being late for class."
Maggie sticks her head back into my notebook. "For whose class?"
I lower my head. "Mrs. Kennedy's."
Maggie nods her head, her eyes still trained on my horrible handwriting. "Exactly. So you didn't get in trouble."
"That's not true!" I protest.
Maggie lifts her head again, giving me a look. "Really? So, what was your punishment, then?"
"God. My point exactly."
Things quiet down after that. Maggie's face is hidden under a shower of honey-blonde hair as she continues to read my Dicktionary. My Dicktionary is something I started about mid-January this year after, yet again, another instance when a whole bunch of undersexed, insecure dickheads started heckling me and calling me a faggot (which may be true, but in more polite terms, thank you very much). Now, I could have cried and whined and said, "I hate my life!" and all of that junk (and I did...but that's beside the point). The point is, my Dicktionary is the one thing that can keep me sane through all of that, by writing a list of all the douches who want to make my life miserable.
And one day, when I'm all famous and junk, I'm going to leak this and embarrass them all.
"Spencer!" Maggie shouts, capturing my attention again. I cringe at her low tone of voice and how fiery it can get. "Stop with the inner-monologue and listen to me for one second."
I sink back into my sweater and nod my head. "You know, sometimes I think you're more of a guy than me." I remark with a cheesy grin. "Heh heh heh..."
Maggie just glares. "Anyways. What's the meaning of this?!" She thrusts my purple notebook in my face until all I see are blurs of pencil, blue lines, and the smell of fresh notebook. God. I love that smell.
"Too close, Mags." I mumble, my voice smothered by the notebook. She retracts it back forcefully and places it in my hands.
Jeremiah Jones- God. If there was a better name for
Maggie hits my shoulder. "Read it out loud."
"Jeremiah Jones. God. If there was a better name for a sleazy, unemployed-and should-be, douche-bag of douchebaggery, it's Jeremiah Jones. Not only is this failed womanizer a personal enemy of one Spencer Kennedy, because of several locker-stuffing incidents, he is an enemy to women everywhere for being both greasy and sexist. His punishment should be to watch modern day bullying, because if you're going to do it, do it right. Locker-stuffings are so eighties." I lift my eyes, to see Maggie's hazel ones glaring back at me.
"He isn't any of that stuff you...you douchebaglet!" Maggie shrieks angrily.
I smile proudly. "Good job!"
She grins for a moment, and bows slightly. "I know, I'm learning."
Slight back story here.
Basically, Jeremiah and Maggie were childhood besties even before I came along in third grade. She and him literally did everything together, like, even baths. Yeah. Anyways, by the time seventh grade came, Mags, Jeremiah, and I were inseparable to the point of mistaking us as siblings (well, at least Jer and I, and Mags and I). I came out to Mags and Jer in eighth grade, before I came out publicly. Both of them accepted me (Thank Jesus) and we were closer than ever.
But, then I came out formally in my school a few months later, and not only did I start getting teased, so did Jeremiah, because everyone assumed because we were such close friends that we were dating (so not true by the way since Jer's the least like my type). Anyways, so in ninth grade, Jeremiah was bullying me to fit in with the other guys (not that I blame him) and avoiding Maggie.
But that's why I hate him. Because it was completely obvious how much they loved each other, but he was being a coward and broke her heart. And even though he deserted her too, and now it's two years later, Maggie still can't bring herself to hate him.
"Take him out now."
"Where?" I joke lamely.
Maggie glares at me.
Jeremiah Jones- God. If there was a better name for a sleazy, unemployed-and should-be, douche-bag of douchebaggery, it's Jeremiah Jones. Not only is this failed womanizer a personal enemy of one Spencer Kennedy, because of several locker-stuffing incidents, he is an enemy to women everywhere for being both greasy and sexist. His punishment should be to watch modern day bullying, because if you're going to do it, do it right. Locker-stuffings are so eighties.
"Thank you." Maggie mutters. "Asshole."
"I love you." I say with a grin. Maggie rolls her and eyes and growls at me before diving back into the world of douches and insults.
"Hey!" Maggie shouts suddenly with a grin. "Do you have him?"
I shoot her a confused look. "Who?"
"You know who." She doesn't give me time to answer as she flips the pages, the words zooming past my eyes, before she stop on 'L'. She scrolls down the page with her eyes before they stop as she reads frantically, laughing. "God, Spence. I knew you did!"
"I'm reading it." She announces. "Luke-"
"Not out loud!" I protest.
"You read Jeremiah's out loud." She points out.
"Yeah, because you wanted me to!"
"That's besides the point!" She goes back to the notebook. "Luke-"
"Yahhh!" I lunge towards her in a failed attempt to snatch back my notebook, but she soars her hand in the air, out of my reach. I sit up on my knees, my bed quaking on the weight of both of us. I stumble a little bit, but reach again, before I finally grab it and fall backwards on Maggie's outstretched feet.
Maggie pouts. "But you hate him. Why can't I read it then?"
"Because," I say, "he's my enemy, so I get to read it out loud." I grin evilly.
"Then read it!"
"I thought you already did read it?"
"I did, but I like hearing you get pissed off. It's hilarious."
I roll my eyes, but read it. "Luke Karrington. This is the asshole of all assholes. He is the founder of the asshole revolution. Not only is this douchecookie doused in self-love, arrogance, and stupidity, but his ego is fueled by the love of everyone in that dungeon of a school Spencer calls home. Luke is even an acronym cleverly made by Spencer himself. L -Loser, U -Ugly, K -Kreepy, and E -Ew. Luke is the epitome of grossness, sexism, and homophobia. Yeah, he's not even a homophobic asshole who's actually gay. He's just an asshole who likes to make Spencer all sad and whatnot. His punishment is to be banished on the Sandwich Islands, where he is not allowed to eat their sandwiches, you know, if they have any there, 'cause Spencer doesn't know. ...That asshole."
Maggie laughs hysterically. "God. That's what you call hate, folks!" She pauses and checks her phone. "When must I take my leave?"
"Shit. It's 4:45." She grabs her backpack strewn on my floor by my always open closet (a joke made by Mags) and she throws on her purple sweatshirt since it's relatively warm outside for mid-February. "Why am I frantically leaving again?" She asks.
"'Cause Ma wants me to tutor this kid for her class."
"Why can't she do it?"
"Because I'm her kid, I'm getting an A in there, not because she's my Ma, but because I kick-ass at English, and apparently this kid and I are good friends."
"Who is it?" Mags asks, flipping her hair out of the collar of the sweatshirt.
"Dunno. She wouldn't tell me. All I know is it's a guy."
Maggie grins. "Well have fun, and try not to you know, fall in love or anything! Facebook me afterwards."
"Got it. Love you."
She gets to my door. "Love you! Remember, message me, got it?"
Maggie shuts my door. I faintly hear her and my Ma talk before the front door closes. I stretch out, waiting for this kid to arrive. A minute later, the doorbell rings and I assume it's Maggie, forgetting something.
"I got it!" I shout. I get my lazy ass up and walk to the door, my Dicktionary in hand. I see a tall figure through the glass, though I can't make out a face and swing open the door.
"Hey Spency." He looks down. "Huh. I see you have a diary."
I pale and quickly slam shut my Dicktionary. "Huh." I mimic. "I see you are dumb enough to need a tutor." He steps closer to me. "Watch it, bookcase. My Ma's your teacher." He snorts at my insult and roughly pushes past me into my house. I slam my door shut, not affecting him in the least.
"Hi, Mrs. Kennedy." He greets fakely. My Ma buys it and greets him back just as enthusiastically. I growl, wanting to hit everything in sight, but especially the dumb asshole who's chatting it up with my Ma.
A\N Well, there ya have it! Review if you like, review if you don't.
Also, when Spence crosses out Jeremiah's little section in the Dicktionary, I had to use underline to show that, so please don't be confused.
'Kay! See ya later! :)