Dogfight

Dogfight - 2

Insignificance

I watched on as my best friend, Nelson, punched some guy in the gut, the weak boy doubling over as he coughed and choked out air. He clutched his pained stomach, eyes tearing up as Nelson grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, shaking him so his large glasses toppled off his head and onto the scratched linoleum ground. Nelson smirked, punching the guy one more time, before stomping on his glasses, snapping them right in two. The outcast whimpered quietly as he patted the ground for his shattered spectacles, making Nelson laugh coldly, before walking over to me, patting me on the back.

"What did that one do to you?" I asked, and he growled at the memory, eyes flashing with hatred as he glanced back at the nerd crying to himself on the ground, trying to escape the wrath of the other teens at the school who were undeniably on our side. Of course they were- Nelson and I were the kings of the school. Nelson showed me his soiled jacket, a big blue stain smack-bang in the middle of the cotton material and I snickered, making him punch my arm playfully.

"That bastard spilled his fucking drink on me, so of course I would get angry," he huffed, giving me a lopsided smile. Nelson was a good-looking guy, the second most sought after being at school only coming after me. He had very light blonde hair but an abundance of it, the slightly wavy tendrils falling to his mid-neck, curling under his chin slightly. He was tall, the same height as me, which was a steady 185cm. He was well muscled, being the captain of the soccer team and all. He was a bit of an asshole though, but I didn't really care. The people he picked on and the people he beat up were of no concern to me. I wouldn't even know them after I graduate, so what was the point? They were all insignificant to me anyway.

It was the middle of the year- nearing the end of July, so it was getting pretty cold, though we had nothing on places that actually snowed. It never got cold enough for snow, but for us who were used to the sweltering almost desert heat fifteen degrees Celsius was freezing temperatures for us. Nelson pulled up the sleeves of his jumper as he headed to his locker, the one right next to mine. He shoved his bag into his locker as I did to mine, grabbing my books for my first class- Maths. I wasn't a perfect student, I didn't get perfect grades but I scraped by, getting an average grade of B, sometimes C's. I never got below a C though, but never got an A. I was just in the middle, but that was fine. School wasn't important to me, but I liked my sports. I was on the track and field team- their only hope of winning the championships, actually. Our school wasn't a great one, the fees were low so all sorts of people came here. The only reason I'm here is because, well, my mum works here. She's an english teacher, a strict ass bitch as well. Everyone knew we were related, but they pretended not to notice. It was pretty hard to relate us together, actually- she was a fucking ugly pig and I was the popular sports star. It just sucked that she was always at school and knew everything that happened to me.

"Fuck. I have english with your mum now," Nelson groaned, slapping his forehead as he sluggishly grabbed his maths books, giving me a look. "Sorry, Blake, but your mum's a complete bitch."

"Tell me about it," I sighed, just as the bell rang, making Nelson slam his locker shut in annoyance.

"I'll see you in second period, yeah?" he asked, and I nodded, before he sprinted off in the direction of the english wing as to not get singled out by my mum again. Mum hated Nelson, even though we had been best friends since forever. She thinks he's the one that influences me to drink and party, to sleep with girls and to generally whore myself out. Nelson really isn't what influences me, he's basically my partner in crime, his complete idiocy matching mine. I didn't really take things seriously, and I just generally didn't care about anything or anyone.

I slowly walked to maths, getting into that classroom just as the bell rang for a second time and a few students raced in after me, barrelling to their seats as they breathed out a sigh of relief, relaxing in their uncomfortable wooden chairs. I slipped into mine, barely responding to the greetings from people who wanted to associate themselves with me for their own popularity conquests.