I Could Care Less for High School

Why Care About Fake People?

"Hey Cole," I look up from my paper that I had been doodling on to see Maria standing there, smiling at me. It's a fake smile, just like everything about her.

"Hey Maria," I answered. She sits down beside me.

"So, I was wondering... would you like to-"

"No," I cut her off. I don't care what she has to say. She doesn't actually want to be my friend or anything. She just tries to hang out with me because she knows that I have good grades. She just wants to use me and when she's done, she'll go back to her little clique of fake people and talk junk about everyone behind their backs.

But who am I to judge? Oh yeah, I'm me, the one who calls people on their junk.

"You cut me off, Cole" Maria says obviously offended.

"Yeah, I know. I meant to," I inform her. It's a little funny to see her get upset over it.

"Do you realize how rude that is? That's just outright mean," she tells me as if I didn't already know this.

"Yeah, I know. But I really didn't want to hear what you had to say." I lean in a little closer and lower my voice "Because I know your game, you just need a tutor. You don't actually want to be friends with me. You're failing English and if your grades don't come up, you'll be cut."

I pull back and she looks shocked that I actually knew or maybe it was because I called her out. She puts her head down and doesn't say a thing. I know she's worried about being cut as cheer captain but that's her problem. Maybe if she paid attention in class, she wouldn't be failing it.