The Elites

Chapter I: The Boy in the Beach Blonde Wig

Chapter I: The Boy in the Beach Blonde Wig

Getting knocked over by a singing six foot tall linebacker wearing a bright pink tutu and a beach blonde wig was definitely not how I planned on ending my day. Unfortunately, fate was against me.

And so were the seniors.

It was their last week of high school and the pranks that they were pulling were ridiculous. At the beginning of the week, two seniors were kicked out of school for putting alarm clocks in the ceiling tiles and yesterday, three seniors were suspended for lighting fireworks in the auditorium.

And they both managed to affect me.

I just happened to sit directly under a ceiling tile in my math class. I was innocently sitting down, doing my work when the clocks began ringing. I, as well as everyone else, looked around in confusion.

I don't know if the clocks were too heavy for the ceiling tile or if the seniors had it out for me, but long story, short: the clock fell through the tile and hit me on the head. Hard.

And while fireworks were pretty to everyone else, they were a nuisance to me. How is it that there was a million people in the auditorium, but I'm the only one who managed to get the ends of their hair burn off?

The burned hair wasn't anything a pair of scissors couldn't fix, but now my hair was terribly uneven.

How crazy was that?

Now, one of the previous football players was running through the corridor, loudly singing words that sounded like a Katy Perry song, as if he didn't have a care in world. The boy could be trying for relive his high school football days, that were now over, and as amusing as it was, the fact that he almost broke my arm wasn't.

The boy in the blonde wig glanced back at me with a goofy grin. Not knowing what to do, I scowled, looking around to see everyone giving us amused looks.

At least everyone else was enjoying senior prank week.

"Florida boys, were unforgettable. Daisy dukes erecting our cocks. Sun-kissed skin so hot it'll make you want our popsicle. Oh oh oh oh," he sung in the beat of Katy Perry's 'California Girls'.

He even began doing the dance move where he humped the air!

The boy was at least six feet with blonde hair and pretty hazel eyes. I've seen him any times, walking through the hallways, but I have never had an honest conversation with him, not that I've ever wanted to. We probably had less to talk about than a lesbian and a cock.

"Get out of my face, you fucking troll," I snapped.

I didn't have to look up to know that we were the center of attention. If anything, it was actually hard to ignore the teenage boy who seemed to not have a problem running around in a pink tutu and a blonde wig.

"Florida boys, we're undeniable," he continued loudly, starting to dance a little. I could feel my hands clenching at my sides, my nails digging into my palm. If he didn't stop singing, I was going to punch him in the eye.

Of course, my best friend came to his rescue.

"Alex, relax," she said smiling, throwing her arm around my shoulder. "Ryan, cut it out. She doesn't want to be bothered with the likes of you."

Kimberly Pearson has been my best friend since the first grade. With her long, dark brunette hair, pretty blue eyes, loud voice, and bubbly personality, she drew attention from boys, girls, and anything with ears.

Her bold personality was what drew me to her in the first place ten years ago. We were in the first grade and unlike everyone else, she was loud and friendly, not hiding behind her mother's legs. Her mother was actually trying to quiet her down as she walked around talking to anyone who would listen.