Brandon. Yes, THAT Brandon.

Anyone Can Be a Dick

"I'm guessing you want an applause or something?" Pipp says curtly, twirling a long lock of blue hair. She's gorgeous. Looks like she came out of a magazine with her dark lipstick and corset style dress. I've never seen anyone so exotic looking in real life (James was 'trailer trash', or at least that's what he told me. Not really exotic. I'm not even sure what 'trailer trash' means). I'm sure the green color of her eyes are due to contacts, but even so, she looks like a bunch of different people in one. I'm no expert anyway, but I can't figure out what race she is.

She also thinks I'm the devil for some reason.

"I didn't mean to be late, really. Sorry if I-"

"Not about you being late." She cuts me off. "I mean about that stunt in the lunchroom with the curly-headed jerk."

"Pipp," a girl with short, red hair warns. I think she was 'Faith'. Maybe she was 'Ri'. I don't remember. Harvey was the only nice one, and he left me to the wolves too. Now to think of it, Harvey isn't that bad looking either. I've never met anyone who pulls off a fedora so well.

"What? We're all supposed to praise the East-Winged Folk for being genetically and socially superior, right?"

"Shelby is from the East Wing, you know that," the girl speaks up again.

"Shelby is different. My point, Faith, is the fact that people like me, people like you-you remember when you tried to hold your boyfriend's hand, Bobby? You couldn't do that in school without people saying terrible things about you, but Jock Boy over here sticks his tongue down Kern's throat and is West Crimson's big hero, right? 'ooh, Brandon Owens is so bold and confident-' you're not even gay, are you?" Pipp is genuinely angry with me.

I have no words.

"That's enough, Pipp. We're sorry your dog died last week," Bobby speaks up. I can just feel my cheeks burning. We never ever should've come here. I thought Shelby's friends would be like him: nice and cool and accepting. I was so wrong. So wrong.

Pipp scoffs at Bobby's comment and throws her hands up in the air, silencing herself. "We're sorry," Bobby says to me. "Pipp isn't usually such a jerk. She's acting out."

"Thanks, Bobby for clarifying that to everyone. You should be my spokesperson," Pipp says sarcastically. Shelby when are you coming back-

The rest of the group sits in silence, not even saying a thing to defend me. Well, I suppose they shouldn't have to. I need to defend myself.

"I wasn't trying to prove anything, you know," I say after a period of silence. "It was just a joke." Pipp takes my comment with a shake of her head before she begins to laugh.

"Well, Jock Boy. You just had the biggest and best gay joke ever. You do deserve an applause. C'mon, everyone! Applaud the boy." She begins a slow, exaggerated clap.

"Why are you such a jerk?" I ask.

"You're not even gay!" she fires back.

"Neither are you, Pipp," Bobby says.

"But at least I can understand it. Those idiots over in the East Wing haze in the locker room and stick things up each other's asses and sometimes do a big kiss on camera as a joke and think they can just... ugh. It just drives me nuts. My brother was over at the East Wing. It's all a big joke to you guys. Ridiculous."

Well fuck you, Pipp.

This can't be real. This cannot actually be happening. I'm just waiting for someone to tell me she's acting. They're theater kids. Flower children. I'm just a test; I know this is an initiation of some sort. A brutal initiation, but a trial all the same. Nobody is actually this nasty to someone they just met. She's the Mitchell Kern of this group.