Posh Kids (Gen. 4)

Nash

"Ok, pretty boy. You have to prove your worth. Here's a list of things I compiled during the assembly," said Harper, digging in his pockets. He tossed the list, and I read it over.

SCHOOL RULES

•No smoking
•No consumption of drugs or alcohol
•No sexual intercourse
•No removal of clothing

"You have to break at least two of these rules. It's like fucking mandatory," said Harper. I walked to one of the nearest lockers, and kicked it. To everyone's surprise, the locker came open, and I looked at some of the stuff inside. Empty alcohol bottles were in there, but there was at least three partially full ones. A pack of cigarettes were on the top shelf, along with a hat and a note. I grabbed the note which read, Forever is over. What does that mean?

"Hey! Is that alcohol," said Maddox, who started jumping around. I tossed him a bottle, and he took a satisfied sigh.

"So, Nashy. What do you say?" asked Harper, sneering. I grabbed one of the bottles, unscrewed the top, and took a long swallow.

"Check off alcohol," said Harrison. I stretched my arm to the top of the shelf, and took the pack of smokes from the top. Matty tossed me a lighter, and I lit the cigarette. Maddox took out a small camera, and filmed me taking a drag on the cigarette. I blew the smoke into Maddox's face, and he started coughing, dropping the camera. The camera made a shattering sound as it hit the tiled floor, and I soon heard the clacking of dress shoes, getting nearer and nearer with each passing second.

"Boys!" yelled a voice. A man approached us, his hair a messy tangle of brown curls, and his face resembling a drunken 20-year-old.

"Uh, sir?" I said, nervously.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" he asked, glaring seemingly at me alone. He walked closer to me, and examined my features.

"Brown hair, blue eyes, thin nose. Smile for me boy!" he exclaimed. I flashed him my signature angelic smile, but he simply laughed.

"Give me a sincere smile, you little sneaky bastard! I know an O'Hara when I see one," he said, putting his hands on my shoulders, and shaking them violently.

"I could have told I was an O'Hara, you know?" I said, fearing the glint in his eyes.

"That would have killed the mystery, per se?" he said, arching an eyebrow.

"Not to be rude and interrupt your intellectual monologue, but who the fuck are you?" I asked.

"My given name is Christopher Sidney Douglas, but please refer to me as Mr. Douglas," he said. Then, he walked off, going into a classroom, and shutting the door.

"Oh, and you boys are obligated to join me right about now," he continued, reopening the door, and allowing us in.

"This is going to be a hella weird term," said Harper, walking next to me.

"In my opinion, weird is just a synonym for interesting and different," I said, looking at the class.