We the Weirdos

Chapter Seventeen

I hate school.

I swear (yes, Lysander, I'm swearing, just deal with it), whoever created school is not human. Who's with me? It's brain abuse to humans. Maybe it was Kronos. And you better agree with me, or else you and I are going to have a HUGE problem.

It's going to work, because Kronos, the kid-eating father, created school, but he still has a heart so he ends up eating his children so they don't have to go through the tortures of school. That's, like, a fool-proof plan right there.

By the time the kids get released from (ew) their father's stomach, they're too old. No one wants to be partners with a guy five times older than you. Unless they're, like, a genius or something.

I plopped down at the table where Lysander was. "What's up?" I asked. "Looks like someone's happy."

"The ceiling. And the roof. Perhaps topped with some leaves on top. Maybe some pretty clouds with the sky. The sun. Currently nonexistent moon. Birds..." he trailed off in a voice, like he was dreaming. About freaking birds.

"Pretty birds..." he sighed, smiling, looking at absolutely nothing.

"Yes, yes just those birds with super sharp claws getting ready to eat you, what could possibly be any more peaceful?" I said.

"It was so peaceful! And you ruined it!" He said.

"Just forget about the hundreds of people also in this room, yelling and screaming and talking. Yes, they don't exist. Totally."

He sighed. "I hate you."

Bob sang in the background "I hate you, I love you."

Just shut up, already. That song is just- no.

We both ignored him.

"Says the one who dragged me by my hair to sit with you for the rest of the year." I said, rolling my eyes.

"T-t-that wasn't me!" He argued.

Sid sung, "I hate that I want you." Then he said, "Just get married already. You've skipped the marriage part. You're bickering like an old couple."

Now, all of us ignored him. Even Bob.

Chris said, "Yes, right. That was your third personality, Frank. And also, I saw you." He rolled his eyes.

"Shut up." Lysander said, "And bro, I though we were friends."

"Me?" Both Sid and Bob asked.

"Only me and Chris are friends. You two idiots can shut up."

Chris coughed.

"Well, in that case, yes, all three of you."

"Me?" I mimicked.

He facepalmed. "How did I find myself such idiotic people? Did you fall from the sky?"

"I should be the one asking that!" I said, "And, of course, I hatched from an egg. But so have you, because you're a 'chick.'"

"No, I'm a chic." I don't think guys can be classified as chics anyway. Wait. Can they?

"Do you realize you're saying the same thing or what...?" Chris asked, confused.

"Yeah," Bob said, "I agree with my not-friend."

"Uhh," Sid said unsurely, "is it just me because I think we're missing something here..."

"Wait... what are you naming your babies? Come on, don't keep it a secret." Chris asked.

I coughed.