The Clichés

Chapter Three- Lucas

There's this saying about someone stuck in between the devil and the deep blue sea. Sometimes, Lucas feels like that person. For those at Crownston—excluding his friends, of course—he's a bad boy. He's always been quiet, always preferred his own company, and always struggled with what to say and how to say them. Because of these eccentricities, many people, including the ones who don't fear him, dismiss him. His sense of dress definitely didn't make that better. Black ripped denim, black shirts and chains, and belts with designer buckles. People took one look at him and saw an emo, angsty teen, so they avoided him. He didn't blame them. He'd steer clear of himself, too, if he could. 

Then there came Dylan, who walked him down the field on a Sunday afternoon and said he liked his jacket. They became friends. Mason, a rich kid who was often defrauded with feigned helplessness, joined them. Chase was the last person to become a part of the clichés, as they would later be known...

In their second year together, the group discovered something life-changing that they all had in common. Lucas remembers the memory well. 

Dylan was leaning against his locker. From the look on his face, Lucas could tell that something had happened. Dylan had gotten some news that had clearly shook him to his core, and not just anything could shake Dylan Moore. 

"So, you gonna tell us what happened or not?" Mason asked. Dylan just held his backpack strap and shrugged. 

"Come on, man, it can't be that bad," Lucas half-heartedly laughed. Dylan's head shot up, and he glared at him. 

"Yeah? And what the hell do you know?" He snapped. Lucas blinked. Okay, something was definitely wrong. Dylan was never like this. Just then, a group of girls brushed past them in the hallway. They stopped a little ways in front of them. 

"Dylan, is it true that you slept with Marcy Garrickson and then never called her back?" the shorter one asked. Dylan crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, staying quiet. This shit really had to stop. He didn't have time for this, not now. "Oh my God, you're staying quiet. It is true! You're an actual playboy!" 

Lucas was about to correct them. Clearly, he wasn't in a state to deal with this today. He opened his mouth, and that’s when Dylan said it. 

"So what if I am?" 

"What, so you're admitting it?" The taller one laughed. "Pathetic." Both girls walked away. Mason turned to Dylan. 

"Dude, what the hell? Now the whole school is gonna think that," he scolded. Dylan laughed. 

"Just like the whole school thinks you're a rich bitch? That Lucas is a bad boy? That Chase is a nerd? So what. Why not play into it? It's better than who we really are, right?" 

"I don't know, Dylan," Chase replied. 

"Come on, with all the shit we have to deal with at home? This will be a fun little stress reliever, like drama class," Dylan pleaded. The other boys glanced at each other and sighed. They all agreed that this was much better than the alternative. 

Turns out, living every day pretending to be someone you’re not isn’t as great as it first sounded. That sounds stupid in retrospect, but for someone like Lucas, being ‘the bad boy’ sounded appealing. ‘Bad boys’ aren’t scared of confrontation. ‘Bad boys’ are wanted by everybody (at least, that’s what he thought.) ‘Bad boys’ weren’t ‘broken,’ they’re ‘misunderstood’ and that seemed much more promising to Lucas than the word ‘broken’ did. For a while, his persona acted as a sort of shield for him. If the real Lucas didn’t want to face something or deal with his shit, he could pretend to be ‘bad boy Lucas’ and procrastinate for a little while longer.