Mean Boys.
two.
“What does he think he is? A lighthouse?” Zack asks, eye widening. Alex laughs.
“I don’t know, Zee. But what I do know is that Vinny Vegas is about as intelligent as a newborn monkey and only slightly less hairy. Jack used to sit next to him in Math, didn’t you?”
“He asked me what two plus two was.” Jack replies, shaking his head in disdain.
“And that tall blonde one next to him? That’s Evan Kirkendall. He’s not hot, but he’s rollin’ in cash ‘cause his dad invented the solar powered flashlight.”
The blonde boy in question (who also sports some pretty dire black coontails and a Blood On The Dancefloor tee) stretches, pulls the bright pink visor over his eyes.
“I think he’s gonna sparkle in the sun or somethin’,” Alex laughs dryly, “he’s a fuckin’ vampire, I swear to God.”
“You don’t like them, then?” Zack asks, glancing at him.
“Nope. I hate them.”
“Why? Have they done something to offend you?”
“They’re scene kids. Everything they do offends me.”
Alex rips out the page of his notebook that he was writing on and hands it to Zack.
“Here. You’ll probably need this.”
Zack looks at the paper and frowns.
Zee’s Handy, Comprehensive Map of Towson High. By Alex Gaskarth.
“You’ve got your freshmen, army jerks, nerds, the steroid addicted, annoying hipsters, cool hipsters, senior assholes, reclusive exchange students, people who care about everything, people who don’t care at all, desperate groupies, dropouts, sexually active white trash, the greatest people you will ever meet,” He pauses to gesture at himself and Jack, “and the worst. Beware of the scene kids.”
“Uh, thanks.”
Second period is Statistics, which Zack has always been good at, so he kind of enjoys it, in the least dorky way possible.
Miss Diakoulas, his homeroom teacher, is the teacher of this class, which is kind of cool, he guesses. It’s weird though, he decides, being taught by someone who isn’t his mom or dad.
“Hey, do you have a pencil I could borrow?” The guy in front turns and smiles slightly.
Holy shit.
“Uh, yeah.” Zack replies, handing the boy a pencil. He’s adorable.
“Thanks. I’m Rian.”
He stares after him for a moment, until Miss Diakoulas’ voice cuts through his thoughts.
“Zack, what do you have?”
He blinks, and looks around to see the rest of the class staring at him.
“Well, uh, values six, ten, and twelve are outliers, so they have to be removed, so I got the average to be 69, rounded up to a whole number.”
“Very nice. Excellent.”
Zack blushes a little and looks down at his paper when he realizes Rian is smiling softly at him. When he looks up a few moments later, Rian is still smiling at him.
At lunch third period, Zack is wandering around nervously, half looking for Alex and Jack, half trying to find somewhere that isn’t overrun with a specific social group.
He gives up, sighs, and is about to turn to get a tray when two girls walk over to him. They look like hipsters. They’re also wearing nametags, which identify them as ‘Ellen!’ and ‘Savannah!’
“Hey, we’re doing a survey of new students, would you like to take part?” The smaller, darker haired girl, Savannah, says.
“Uh, yeah, okay.”
Ellen hands her a clipboard.
“Is your cherry popped?” She asks with a smirk.
“Uh, what?”
“Would you like us to assign someone to pop your cherry?”
“Are they bothering you?” A girl’s voice says, and Zack turns to be met by the snooty expression of one Cassadee Pope, flanked by boys he recognizes as Evan and Vinny. “Savannah, why are you such a whore?”
“I’m not; I’m just being welcoming to the new students. Chill.”
Evan narrows his eyes at her.
“What, I can’t introduce myself now?”
“You were supposed to call me last night!”
Ellen and Savannah glance at each other.
“Uh, yeah about that, I-”
“Savannah.” Cassadee interrupts sharply. “You do not come to a party of mine with Evan, and then hit on some boy in front of us.” She turns to Zack. “Do you want to have sex with her?”
“Uh, no, thank you.”
“Great. It’s settled then.” She smirks. “Bye, hipster bitches.”
As they walk away, Evan mouths ‘call me’ at the dark haired girl.
“Shut up.”
“Wow, great comeback.”
The two girls glance at each other and roll their eyes before returning to the borderline stupidly large group of hipsters who are seated at around five tables at the far side of the cafeteria.
“Uh, thanks for that.”
“You’re welcome.” Cassadee smiles smugly. She’s a sight to behold. Teased, dip-dyed hair of around seven different shades (almost hypnotically rainbow-like), a Breathe Carolina shirt that’s far too big, over neon pink leggings, black ballet pumps and a ridiculous black netting tutu.
Evan and Vinny take hold of Zack’s arms and pull him towards their table, sitting him down next to Evan and opposite Cassadee. He catches sight of Jack and Alex across the cafeteria, who wave their arms around and shakes their heads.
“So, you’re new here, right?” Cassadee says. “Where are you from?”
“California.”
“I thought people from California were supposed to be tan. You’re really pale.” Vinny comments, chewing thoughtfully on a French fry.
“Oh my God, Vinny, you can’t just say shit like that. It’s kinda racist.” Evan says, eyes wide as he shakes his head.
“Where did you get that bracelet? It’s so cute.” Cassadee interrupts (again), nodding at the string on Zack’s wrist.
“Cali. One of my friends made me it.”
“It’s so wack, oh my gosh.” Evan says, tugging Zack’s wrist towards him.
“Uh, what?” Cassadee asks in disdain.
“It’s, like, slang from, uh, France...” Evan peters out slowly.
Cassadee rolls her eyes.
“Zack, could you give us a moment of privacy?” Cassadee asks. Zack nods, turning and making eye contact with Alex for a brief moment, and he makes a running gesture and Jack waves his arms around.
“Okay, you should know that we don’t do this a lot,” Cassadee says, breaking the huddle, “but we’re inviting you to eat lunch with us every day for the rest of the week.”
“Uh, okay.”
“Great.” Evan says with a grin. “On Tuesdays, we wear legwarmers.”
“I don’t know, Zee. But what I do know is that Vinny Vegas is about as intelligent as a newborn monkey and only slightly less hairy. Jack used to sit next to him in Math, didn’t you?”
“He asked me what two plus two was.” Jack replies, shaking his head in disdain.
“And that tall blonde one next to him? That’s Evan Kirkendall. He’s not hot, but he’s rollin’ in cash ‘cause his dad invented the solar powered flashlight.”
The blonde boy in question (who also sports some pretty dire black coontails and a Blood On The Dancefloor tee) stretches, pulls the bright pink visor over his eyes.
“I think he’s gonna sparkle in the sun or somethin’,” Alex laughs dryly, “he’s a fuckin’ vampire, I swear to God.”
“You don’t like them, then?” Zack asks, glancing at him.
“Nope. I hate them.”
“Why? Have they done something to offend you?”
“They’re scene kids. Everything they do offends me.”
Alex rips out the page of his notebook that he was writing on and hands it to Zack.
“Here. You’ll probably need this.”
Zack looks at the paper and frowns.
Zee’s Handy, Comprehensive Map of Towson High. By Alex Gaskarth.
“You’ve got your freshmen, army jerks, nerds, the steroid addicted, annoying hipsters, cool hipsters, senior assholes, reclusive exchange students, people who care about everything, people who don’t care at all, desperate groupies, dropouts, sexually active white trash, the greatest people you will ever meet,” He pauses to gesture at himself and Jack, “and the worst. Beware of the scene kids.”
“Uh, thanks.”
Second period is Statistics, which Zack has always been good at, so he kind of enjoys it, in the least dorky way possible.
Miss Diakoulas, his homeroom teacher, is the teacher of this class, which is kind of cool, he guesses. It’s weird though, he decides, being taught by someone who isn’t his mom or dad.
“Hey, do you have a pencil I could borrow?” The guy in front turns and smiles slightly.
Holy shit.
“Uh, yeah.” Zack replies, handing the boy a pencil. He’s adorable.
“Thanks. I’m Rian.”
He stares after him for a moment, until Miss Diakoulas’ voice cuts through his thoughts.
“Zack, what do you have?”
He blinks, and looks around to see the rest of the class staring at him.
“Well, uh, values six, ten, and twelve are outliers, so they have to be removed, so I got the average to be 69, rounded up to a whole number.”
“Very nice. Excellent.”
Zack blushes a little and looks down at his paper when he realizes Rian is smiling softly at him. When he looks up a few moments later, Rian is still smiling at him.
At lunch third period, Zack is wandering around nervously, half looking for Alex and Jack, half trying to find somewhere that isn’t overrun with a specific social group.
He gives up, sighs, and is about to turn to get a tray when two girls walk over to him. They look like hipsters. They’re also wearing nametags, which identify them as ‘Ellen!’ and ‘Savannah!’
“Hey, we’re doing a survey of new students, would you like to take part?” The smaller, darker haired girl, Savannah, says.
“Uh, yeah, okay.”
Ellen hands her a clipboard.
“Is your cherry popped?” She asks with a smirk.
“Uh, what?”
“Would you like us to assign someone to pop your cherry?”
“Are they bothering you?” A girl’s voice says, and Zack turns to be met by the snooty expression of one Cassadee Pope, flanked by boys he recognizes as Evan and Vinny. “Savannah, why are you such a whore?”
“I’m not; I’m just being welcoming to the new students. Chill.”
Evan narrows his eyes at her.
“What, I can’t introduce myself now?”
“You were supposed to call me last night!”
Ellen and Savannah glance at each other.
“Uh, yeah about that, I-”
“Savannah.” Cassadee interrupts sharply. “You do not come to a party of mine with Evan, and then hit on some boy in front of us.” She turns to Zack. “Do you want to have sex with her?”
“Uh, no, thank you.”
“Great. It’s settled then.” She smirks. “Bye, hipster bitches.”
As they walk away, Evan mouths ‘call me’ at the dark haired girl.
“Shut up.”
“Wow, great comeback.”
The two girls glance at each other and roll their eyes before returning to the borderline stupidly large group of hipsters who are seated at around five tables at the far side of the cafeteria.
“Uh, thanks for that.”
“You’re welcome.” Cassadee smiles smugly. She’s a sight to behold. Teased, dip-dyed hair of around seven different shades (almost hypnotically rainbow-like), a Breathe Carolina shirt that’s far too big, over neon pink leggings, black ballet pumps and a ridiculous black netting tutu.
Evan and Vinny take hold of Zack’s arms and pull him towards their table, sitting him down next to Evan and opposite Cassadee. He catches sight of Jack and Alex across the cafeteria, who wave their arms around and shakes their heads.
“So, you’re new here, right?” Cassadee says. “Where are you from?”
“California.”
“I thought people from California were supposed to be tan. You’re really pale.” Vinny comments, chewing thoughtfully on a French fry.
“Oh my God, Vinny, you can’t just say shit like that. It’s kinda racist.” Evan says, eyes wide as he shakes his head.
“Where did you get that bracelet? It’s so cute.” Cassadee interrupts (again), nodding at the string on Zack’s wrist.
“Cali. One of my friends made me it.”
“It’s so wack, oh my gosh.” Evan says, tugging Zack’s wrist towards him.
“Uh, what?” Cassadee asks in disdain.
“It’s, like, slang from, uh, France...” Evan peters out slowly.
Cassadee rolls her eyes.
“Zack, could you give us a moment of privacy?” Cassadee asks. Zack nods, turning and making eye contact with Alex for a brief moment, and he makes a running gesture and Jack waves his arms around.
“Okay, you should know that we don’t do this a lot,” Cassadee says, breaking the huddle, “but we’re inviting you to eat lunch with us every day for the rest of the week.”
“Uh, okay.”
“Great.” Evan says with a grin. “On Tuesdays, we wear legwarmers.”