The Swap

Zachary 1.2

There are perks to being an outcast at school, believe it or not. Whenever I walk down the hallways, people move aside; whenever I need to wait for class, a spot opens up to lean against the wall; whenever I'm thirsty, the water fountain magically becomes accessible instantaneously. It even works the other way around: nobody forces me aside; nobody cuts in front of me; and nobody tries to take my spot. Nobody except some entitled girls, I suppose.

I need to stop thinking about that situation during lunch. At least, I need to stop thinking about it from the perspective of another entitled person. I'm almost forgetting that my status at school is a negative thing about me, not a positive one.

Evan tries to calm me down, whilst Sam makes funny remarks about it, which Evan mostly shuts up. Even though I'm still irritated, I chuckle due to their exchanges. I keep forgetting that they're my friends. By the time we make it to our history lesson, I've forgotten about the lunch incident. It's almost as if I'm some rabid beast who needs tamers to calm him down after an infant-like tantrum. Why am I even insulting myself like that?

The teacher starts his lesson, and like always nobody is paying attention, save for a few students in the front row. I notice the girls from lunch sitting there, but I decide not to dwell on that again. We can go back to being complete strangers, unlike the people behind us: a group of dicks who are essentially my only opponents in this school. Don't get it wrong though, they're not revered as knights in shining armour, not at all.

This lesson they're whispering my name, trying to get my attention. Sometimes they also throw paper props at the back of my head, or they put pencils in my hoodie. Right as I think that, Evan removes a marker out of my hoodie and the boys burst out in whispered laughter. I snatch the marker and slide it across the floor, underneath a cabinet.

"Hey what gives? That was my marker y'know?" one of the boys chuckles. Damian, the head of the group.

"Really? That's a shame bud, I didn't mean to drop it under the cabinet." I reply nonchalantly.

"Then go get it for me, since you dropped it," he still chuckles.

"No."

He yanks my hoodie.

"Get it," he commands dead serious.

"Get your grubby hands off my hoodie." I clasp his hand and squeeze it until he lets go.

"Guys, cut it out, now's not the time for arguing." Evan pipes in.

"Yeah it is, I can't take notes without that marker, idiot." Damian says, once again chuckling somewhat.

"You take notes? Wouldn't expect it from someone who donates his markers to other people's hoodies." I shoot back.

"Did your mommy give you that comeback?" he smirks.

I jerk his hand off my hoodie. Not only Evan gasps, but his friends also stop chuckling. One of them tells him to calm down. Damian tells him to shut up.

"At least mine still managed to raise a good son." I snarl.

Damian gains a devious grin on his face. He straightens it out again before looking me dead in the eye.

"Listen here, Zach. You may think that you're doing nothing wrong, but there's a reason your dad left your mother."

Within a second the whole class turns their heads to the back of the room. The teacher frantically stops his presentation and tentatively hurries his way over to us. I'm holding Damian by his shirt collar as he grasps my arm. While he tries to squirm loose, his idiot grin never leaves his face.

"You're going to take that back," I threaten.

"I'm not scared of you. You don't have the balls."

Before I can prove him wrong, the teacher ushers me away, with help from Evan.

"Now that I think about it," Damian shouts over the teacher's pleas for peace, "You must've taken a lot from your father. All you need now is a whore to abandon!"

Immediately, I shove Evan aside and scramble towards this bastard but others pull me back, and Damian himself also steps back a few steps. I'm dragged out of the classroom and ordered to get myself under control.