Truth in Cliche

I could feel my stomach slowly ascending up my esophagus. I felt like I was going to puke. Everyone here was just so cool. I felt like the biggest dork on the face of the Earth. I’m pretty sure Miss America passed me by in at least four different reincarnations.

Why my parents had decided to move was beyond me. We were doing fine at home, I didn’t see why an exodus was necessary, especially not in the middle of November. I mean, who does that to their kid? I’d basically just gone downstairs one morning and my parents told me that we were moving to south Florida in two weeks. I really didn’t understand, but I didn’t have to. It was already happening.

I made it to my locker without drawing too much attention to myself. It was a big city, I’m sure they got new kids all the time. I wasn’t really doubtful of that. There were so many kids crammed into one hallway that I honestly wasn’t
sure how the five-minute class switches were supposed to work out.

Coming from a small school somewhere in Podunk, South Dakota and going to a fairly large suburban city in South Florida was just about as big of a difference as you could get. Not only were there actually people, but also the people just honestly didn’t give a rat’s ass about you. I was pushed out of the way, cussed at, and shoved in the hallways at least twenty times on my first day alone: so much for Southern hospitality.

A few girls talked to me. They were sweet, at least from what I’d seen of them so far. I sat with this girl Kendra at lunch. She was cute: red hair and freckles. She completely talked my ear off though, and I really didn’t talk at all.

About halfway through lunch, the cafeteria doors swung open. Some pretty hardcore looking guys stepped through followed by a few girls with dyed hair and asymmetrical cuts. That was something you didn’t really even see in SD.

One of the guys had headphones in his ears; another had a ring through his nose. I couldn’t help but stare a little bit. It was almost like I was thrust into an article out of some obscure magazine or something.

The girls really caught my eye though. I wasn’t quite sure yet if it was good or not, but they were all dressed in a way that my mom would probably call trashy. They almost all had skin-tight jeans with rips and studs paired with coats, even in the hot Florida weather, and boots of some sort.

I looked back at Kendra. She rolled her eyes. “The punker kids. They’re hopeless really.”

I looked back at them and my stomach leapt back up to its place in my throat. One of the girl’s eyes caught mine. Her hair was half black and half white with razor sharp bangs. Cruella DeVille, was the first thought that came to mind. But she smirked, and then I decided she was probably a stripper. An immature and prejudiced thought, yes, but I didn’t know what else to think.

I looked back at Kendra. She rolled her eyes again. “She’s such a slut,” she said, and I assumed that she was talking about Cruella.

“Who is she?”

“Everyone calls her Benji.”

“Like the dog?”

Kendra shrugged. “All the punk kids have strange names, I guess. I heard it’s more for buying drugs and stuff than anything else. Kinda like nicknames, maybe. I doubt that it’s her real name. Who names their kid that? Right?”

I nodded absently, but my eyes wandered back to Benji and her posse. It was definitely hers. It was no wonder that everyone knew who she was, while the rest of them remained nameless. She sat on the guys’ laps and shamelessly flirted with them.

Kendra noticed me looking. “That’s Max. He’s actually gay, but I heard Benji is doing him anyway.”

I assumed she was referring to the guy that Benji was sitting on and had her lips next to his ear. I didn’t even understand how that was possible, but I’d never personally known someone who was gay.

I shrugged. To me it seemed like Kendra was just jealous of Benji.

I couldn’t help but watch Benji. She was so flirty and wild, and so completely unlike any girl I’d ever seen before. She really did catch my eye. I didn’t know why. While I was lost staring at her, I think she noticed me.

She stood up and walked over. Kendra’s eyes widened as Benji took a seat net to me. “Do you want to stop fucking staring at me?” she asked.

I was speechless to be honest. She smelled like cigarettes and bubblegum. Her eyes were a fierce blue and they seemed to eat away at my soul, not to be cliché.

I stuttered out a “sorry.”

Benji looked at Kendra and back at me. “You might want to find yourself a new friend honey. This one’s got it out for me.” She winked at Kendra and ghosted long fingers over my lips.

I could only stare at her.

“Stop staring Cowboy. And close your mouth, we have a fly problem at this school.”

---

At the end of the day I was tired of hearing Kendra complain about how much she hated Benji. I decided I definitely had a crush on her, but I wasn’t sure exactly what to think about that.

“And she totally just walked over to our table and insulted me and then basically asked you to stop checking her out. How unfair of her is that? She’s the one who dresses like a porn star.”

“Thanks so much for showing me around today.” I had to change the conversation. I couldn’t stand it.

“Oh, no problems Evan. You’re a really nice kid. I wish more people at our school were like you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Oh of course. I’m here every day!”

Kendra was swept away with the crowd of all the students. I ducked out of the school and ran straight into someone. “Hey man. You got eyes? Use ‘em.”

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking, and…”

“Obviously,” the guy sneered. He was the guy that Benji was all over at lunch today.

“I’m really sorry…”

“Just get lost.”

“Hey Max, calm down.” Long nails dug into my arm. “This is Cowboy. He’s cool.”

Max just looked really confused. I was stunned that Benji even remembered me.

“Right cowboy? You’re cool?”

“Not really.”

Max and Benji laughed.

“See you ‘round cowboy!”

“Uh…bye?”

Benji sauntered off with Max in tow.

My mom picked me up. It was a bit traumatizing to be honest. Everyone here seemed to own a fancy car and barely anyone had their parents picking them up. I guessed that most people walked or took the bus. I thought that maybe I should start taking the bus. I didn’t want anyone to think that my parents were super over-protective or anything. I really just wanted to fit in.

“How was school honey?”

“Fine.”

“Make any new friends?”

“This girl Kendra was really nice.”

“Oh, a girl? Is she cute? Tell me all about her.”

“Mom. She’s just a girl.”

“Evan has a crush. That’s so cute!”

I stopped listening to her. She was already planning to have grandkids by this point in the conversation. This was the prime reason that I had absolutely no interest whatsoever in being friends with girls at my old school. However, since I didn’t really know anyone I decided that being picky really wasn’t an option. And at least my parents didn’t know everyone in the whole entire school here, like they had at home.

At home, my new home, my dad was already sitting at the kitchen table. He worked the night shifts at the hospital so he usually slept during the day, but I guess he wanted to be awake to see me. That thought made me feel better. I’d always sort of thought that my dad was disappointed in me for some reason.

“Hey son! How was your day? Have you found out who the football coach is? You are playing football right? Are your classes easier than at home? Are the people nice? Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Um, my day was good.”

“That’s so great.” He clapped me hard on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you Evan. This takes guts.”

“Thanks dad.”

“So are you playing football?”

In case you couldn’t tell, my dad loved football. And any sport really. He’d always played on a team, but was never really good enough to do anything with it. I wasn’t very good either, but I certainly didn’t hate it.

“I missed tryouts. They were like two months ago.” I’d found this out from my PE coach when I’d asked him about joining.

“There’s always next year sweetie,” my mom said.

“I was thinking about playing soccer though.”

“That’s my boy! Mastering all the sports.”

Truth be told, I wasn’t thinking about soccer at all. I just said it to keep my dad off my back. The more I thought about it though it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. And I knew tryouts were soon, I’d seen flyers all over.