13 𖠇 Teenage Reputation Is Non-Existent

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   I enter my English class and head straight to my seat, where Oscar is already settled. As soon as I sit by his side, he pulls out his earphones. "Someone just started his menstrual cycle," he says, putting his phone down.

   I look at him after taking my notebook out. "Of course you would know," I reply.

   He remains looking at me for a few more seconds before saying, "Are you going to tell me what's wrong or should I go back to my music?"

   "I think I defended you a few minutes ago," I say.

   He sticks his bottom lip out and releases a 'hmm.' "Defended me from who?"

   I look down at my lap as I rub the palm of my hand with my thumb. "Harvey," I say. Something drops inside my stomach, taking my emotions with it. At the moment, I am not aware if I should feel proud or heartbroken by his recent words. Maybe he genuinely is the jock stereotype that only cares for sports and popularity. However, I cannot bring myself to believe that because I am quite sure that he is not. Well, at least from the parts I've seen from him which show no sign of such qualities.

   He tilts his head to the side. "Defending me put you in a bad mood?"

   I scoff, shaking my head. "Harvey's words put me in a bad mood."

   Oscar is more intrigued by now, pushing his stool closer to me. "Go ahead," he says. "Tell me what he said about me."

   "Fine," I agree. "Just don't take his words seriously."

   He nods. "Alright."

   "Basically, he was apologizing to me for not picking me up from your house," I begin, not sure if saying this to Oscar is the right thing to do. "After mentioning your name, he asked if you had treated me badly or acted rudely. Of course, I said no." Oscar is listening to every word, eyes glued on me. "When I asked him why he thinks you would act that way, he stated that you do not have the best reputation."

   "Reputation?" Oscar interrupts, a scorn expression taking over his face. "What the fuck does that even mean?"

   I shrug. "The bad boy stereotype, I guess."

   He looks out the door and scoffs. "I despise guys like him," he says, jaw tightening as he runs a hand through his black hair. "Just because he's an MVP player, he believes that he has certain privileges over those he claims to have a low reputation." He glances at me. "But I don't blame him, quite frankly—I blame the school and everyone it in that praises him as some sort of God just because he knows how to kick a ball," he adds, cheeks growing red. "I will show him that I can also kick some balls—and not the ones he's used to playing with at the field."

   I plant my hand over his arm that rests over the table. "No need to be overdramatic," I let him know. "And kicking his balls will prove to him that you are the boy with a stained reputation."

   He faces forward, looking at the blank wall for a few seconds before nodding slowly. "Yeah," he says. "You're right, Theo."

   I pat his arm twice and let him go, diving back into my bag to pull out a pencil.

   "Thank you, by the way," he blurts out. "For defending me against your dick of a boyfriend."

   I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "He is not my boyfriend and it was not as big of a deal as you might think," I remind him. "But you are still welcome, Oscar."

   He leans himself back and grins. "I am actually surprised at what I am about to say, but you are a good friend if I am being entirely honest."

   "I am not perfect, but I am not terrible either," I say, removing my glasses and cleaning the lenses with the hem of my sweatshirt. "I just hope that what you've met for now is friend material."

   "It certainly is," he says.

   The classroom door shuts loudly and Mr. Feller comes in just as I put my glasses back on. Straight away, he plops a stack of worksheets to the student nearest to his desk for him to hand out the work. His back faces us as he scribbles today's work on the board with a cup of steaming coffee on one hand and a marker on the other.

"Just throwing this out, but Allison asked for you yesterday," he whispers, drawing a yin and yang on his worksheet.

   I remain taking down notes. "Did I leave a good impression?"

   "She barely saw you for two seconds so let's just say that it's too early to make impressions," he says. "But I am sure she'll like you once she gets to know you and your cute nerd reputation."

   I hold back a laugh and glance at him instead. "Teenage reputation is nonexistent," I murmur. "An illusion made by self-conscious individuals to feel better about themselves."

   "Oscar," Mr. Feller calls out, "stop distracting Theo and focus on the lesson." With that being said, he goes back to instructing the class.

   Oscar looks at me with squinting eyes. "He just calls me out because you are Mr. Goody-pants."

   "Oscar," Mr. Feller repeats, eyes on the board. "Do I have to repeat myself?"

   "No, sir," Oscar says, clearing his throat and starting to write down notes.

   I shake my head and chuckle.



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