degenerate - bja

02

september 4, 1989
cooper's pov

                       I WAS SO FUCKING TIRED. the girls and i had gone to bed around midnight. not a good idea. we had to wake up at 6 am, and walked to the bus stop like zombies. i tried to sleep on the bus. did not work. at all. the seats are too stiff and the people are too loud.

homeroom went alright i guess, the usual. at pinole valley high, it was set up so you have the same homeroom all throughout high school. so, rose and angelina were with me. homeroom was actually how we met in the first place. the first day of freshman year, oh the memories. happy, dandy, wonderful, memories.

anyway. history, my first period. the teacher, mrs. ranger, fucking hated me. even though this was my first official year with her, she knew exactly who i was. it was like all the teachers had a secret union or something. when someone acts out in any way, all the teachers know.

rose and angelina weren't in this class with me. unless they decided to skip the first class on the first day of school. we had assigned seats already. little name tage were placed on the desks. i found mine in the right hand side of the room, against the wall. i read the tag next to mine, michael r. pritchard. that was a new one, never heard of 'em. there was a shit tom of kids at pinole though, so i brushed this new name off quickly.

the shrill bell rang, and more people swarmed to their seats.

"settle down class!" mrs ragner's gravelly voice filled the room, and everyone did as she said. they wouldn't have normally, but ragner was notorious for sending people to the dean for literally writing too loud. yup, true story.

☆

the lesson began, it was mostly introductory. but that was useless since almost everyone already knew each other.

i was doodling in my notebook, sketching very unflattering pictures of the people around me. my attention turned to the door when a slender teenage boy with dark hair —in desperate need to a trim— stumbled into the room.

he clutched the straps of his backpack and faced the hag at the front of the room. "sorry i'm late miss..." he strained to look at the name plate on her desk. "ragner."

she pulled her glasses down and stared intently at him. the teachers lounge was definitely going to hear about this kid later.

"no worries mister..." she looked at him, and he just kind of stared at her for a second. i don't think he realized he was supposed to answer at first.

"oh uh, michael."

the lady hummed and pointed a pruny finger at the empty seat next to me. he rushed over and sat down, pulling a ratty notebook and pencil out of his backpack. he seemed fidgety. he was constantly either bouncing his leg or flicking his pencil.

i was also able to get a better look at him. he was wearing a dead kennedy's shirt and a pair of faded cargo pants. accessorized with a silver chain around his neck and a couple rings.

"hey" he turned to me, swiveling on his chair.

"hi" i gave him a slight smile. people always tell me they thought i was a bitch when they first met me because i don't really have the sense to smile that much. "like your shirt" i said, gesturing to his band tee.

"you like dead kennedy's?" he gawked at me like he'd never seen someone who liked punk before. "dude i've never met anyone who likes them before, other than my friends."

"well yeah" i shrugged, "what's your favorite song?"

he clicked his tongue, "probably forward to death, you?"

"no way, same!" i scratched my nose, a habit i had whenever i was excited or nervous.

he propped his elbow up on the desk. "so what other bands do you like?"

"hmm well," whenever someone asked me this, i would forget every piece of music i've ever listened to. "x-ray spex the ramones, pixies, buzzcocks, the dickies, y'know."

"oh you're into that british rock stuff?" he cocked his head, like he was judging me, but quickly backtracked. "me too man."

i chuckled under my breath. "yeah, i got my music taste from my dad." the mention of my dad stung. but there was no reason for that. my dad died in a motorcycle accident when i was 10. no big secret. "he was a cool guy."

"was?" his eyebrows furrowed. "oh. i'm sorry."

i shrugged and rubbed my nose again. "it's fine, really. dont ap-"

"ladies and gentlemen," mrs ragner circled around to us, pulling down her bifocals to reveal her weirdly small eyes.

i put my attention back onto my notebook, not to take notes, obviously. i ripped a page in half and wrote at the top: so tell me about you michael :)
i folded it up and passed it to him under the table.

i pretended to listen to the teacher for a couple of minutes when i felt a tap on the back of my hand. his fingers were really rough. long, and coated with calluses. i unfolded the note and tried to read it discreetly.

first, i like being called just mike. i'm new here, i got kicked out of my old school with my friends. i play bass in a band with those same friends. i don't really pay attention in school, i try my best but it's just hard. so i'm sorry in advance if i bother you instead of doing my work. tell me more about you?

holy shit i'm sitting next to one of the new kids.

i wrote down my reply on the backside of the paper. talking to this kid seemed more urgent now that i knew his deal.

my name is cooper lee perlman. i was supposed to be born a boy so that's why i have a "boy" name. i've been born and raised in this shitty town. but you're one of the new kids? so many people have been talking about you guys.

i passed it back to him and awaited the return. he took out a new page since there was no more room on mine.

yeah my friends billie joe and tre are here too. i don't know what class they have right now.

and the process repeated, i wrote down my response.

wanna sit with my friends and me at lunch? we'll be at one of the back tables in the cafeteria.

-

yea sure.