Hatchetfield.

Be Less Nerdy

Jeremy didn't know what to expect from senior year, but it wasn't much different from junior year.

The first day was supposed to be calming, but it was rather the opposite. Even before his foot stepped into the building, he looked through the large windows to take in the scene. He wasn't too surprised to immediately see the same girly prude as usual, marching the front hallway trying to cancel Homecoming, even though it was still August. She did this every year and never succeeded. She was just some dumb girl named after the Bible, wearing colorful hair pins and a pastel button-up, and everyone supposedly hated her. Jeremy felt indifference. Besides, she was kind of cute, if he had to admit it.

Also, Jeremy didn't like Homecoming anyway, so he didn't care one way or another.

Then Jeremy saw the silhouette of a large purple sports jacket, and that physique immediately stood out to him. That bitch. Despite the fact that he didn't consider himself a nerd (or a prude), that same bitchass quarterback constantly bullied and teased him for being both, year after year. He would punch and kick and yell without consequence, but it was apparently okay since he carried the entire football team. Jeremy learned to deal with it, since the principal did absolutely nothing considering the Lauter girl wasn't one of the victims.

Max Jägerman was a fucking menace, but nobody dared to stand up to him.

So the only person Jeremy could really rely on was his best friend, Michael. He was a nerd, not a prude, and he wasn't a dickhead like all the fuckers that were the reason Jeremy had bruises all over his arms. Michael was supportive, and somehow still happy in the midst of this mess. Jeremy wondered how many times Michael got hit by the popular guys, since whenever the two were with each other, Jeremy was always the one singled out.

That's why he expected to see Michael the moment he walked in, but apparently senior year had different plans when his entrance was narrowly cut off by two kids running past him, trembling in fear and screaming like their lives depended on it. He had nearly ran into them, and stumbled over his feet.

Behind the two kids was Max, who was probably terrorizing both of them like he had terrorized Jeremy.

Jeremy could only watch from afar as Max caught up, grabbing the shirt of one boy who's hair was dyed partly blue, and slamming him against the locker. Blue-hair yelled loudly, but gained no attention from whatever popular kids still inhabited that hallway. "This is my hallway, so stay the fuck out of it!" Max yelled. "Leave me alone!" was the response of the poor kid, who wasn't going to be left alone.

The other kid who was chased, wearing a yellow shirt and— was that headgear?— quickly ran away, despite the look on her face that was telling her to fucking save her friend. Jeremy knew that look all too well: the same look that Michael would give him when Jeremy was being beaten to bloody pieces by the demon king of the class, but Michael couldn't help him without getting his own bones shattered as well.

There was no hope, no saving anybody from Max Jägerman.

And that's when Max's best friend, second-most-popular kid Jake Dillinger, showed up to probably add onto the humiliation that the poor kid was feeling.

By this point, Jeremy was starting to take a detour route in the hallway, to try and steer clear of the popular kids. He didn't really need to go to his locker in the westward hallway, anyway.

That's when he felt a hand grab onto his backpack, dragging him backward. He nearly stumbled to the ground, and would've if the hand hadn't stayed attached. Fuck. Fuck. This isn't good. Abort mission.

He fully expected to hear the familiar voice yelling in his ear, telling him how fucking terrible he is. Because everything about him was just so, so terrible. He mentally prepared himself for the physical damage, since his mentality couldn't have gotten worse than it already was.