we were drunk

five

complications | calvin

There are categories in high school. This is common knowledge; everybody knows that there are different types of teenagers. But I don't necessarily mean cliques.

Categories. The way I see it, there are three types of people in high school: the gods, the mainstream, and the invisible.

The gods. Everybody knows them. Chances are they're captain of the football team, cheer squad, or basketball team. Either that or they're the captain's best friends. This is something that you learn early on. The gods are the kids who think they're invincible. They think that they can do no wrong. It's the heliocentric system and they're the sun. Everything revolves around them. Everybody else? Adults, peers, kids? Planets.

The mainstream — a vast category that I like to split in half.

There are the ones who try. Football, basketball, volleyball, baseball players. Cheerleaders. The cute kids who strive to be at the top of the high school food chain. They act like each other because anything more or less would just be uncool. They try and they try (but not too much because that's not cool either).

There are also kids who fit in without trying. The ones who perform well in gym class. The cute boys and girls who do well in class and smile at you in the hall. They act like everybody else because, well, why not? Mainstream.

And then there are the invisible teenagers. The kids who try harder at homework than at their outfits. The ones who maybe do try to fit in but just can't. The bullied. The too-skinny. The too-thick. The kids who aren't funny, cute, smart, athletic, or charismatic enough. Some of them might be on the football team. Some might be volleyball players or cheerleaders. Maybe one or two are in baseball or softball. Maybe they're bookworms. But, regardless, they usually go by unnoticed. They're the ones who get run over in the hall because nobody actually pays attention to them.

"Oh! Sorry, dude, didn't see you there."

"Hey, idiot, watch your step."

And it's ridiculous. Some would say that it's human nature, and maybe it is. I guess not everybody can be popular, because then popularity wouldn't exist. But, at the same time, not every popular person needs to be a dick, either. Just because you're the captain of the basketball team and you get laid every other night doesn't mean you can toy with people, you know what I mean? Why does everything have to be cliché? Why does high school have to suck?

My best friend, Henry King, is one of those stereotypical jocks that I've grown to loathe.

I'm going to start from the beginning.

Freshman year. For some, freshman year is exciting. For others, it's terrifying. I mean, it's the beginning of high school, and that's where people change, grades matter, things get serious. You figure yourself out in high school. It's a place of growth.

For Henry, day one of high school was just another day. It was school — he ruled the place. The older kids all thought he was cool because he could throw a football. I mean, he was the second-string quarterback as a freshman. A few weeks into the season, the starting quarterback tore a muscle in his knee and, boom!, Henry was up there. At that point, all the girls had grown fond of him.

Henry pretty much built his persona the first year of school. By the end of the first quarter, he was cool. Actually, I think cool is an understatement.