RIVALS

Student of the Decade

"Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo!"

A bunch of football guys storm the room, hollering like the dogs they are.

Dozens of them bump into me as I apply my first layer of black matte lipstick for the day.

The first few times I could excuse, but when a dark, black trail is sent from my top lip to my eyeball, I freak.

"Hey!" I bark, letting all my pent-up frustrations go.

A tall one with ice blue eyes and slicked back blonde hair puffs out his shoulders before lunging at me.

My arms immediately splay out at my sides, as if I had just been caught doing something illegal by the police.

"I'm sorry!"

"She is. She is so- so sorry," Ericka chimes in, much to my chagrin.

He immediately dials back down after spitting (like a dog) and returning to his whooping and hollering.

Once some of the crowd dissipates and begins to sit, we finally get a glimpse of what was going on.

Of fucking course.

Like we're in a fucking movie, a bunch of football players carry Rafael in above their heads, like he's some sort of god.

"This is pathetic," I spit out, grabbing a piece of cloth and attempting to diminish the black lipstick from my cheek.

"They treat us like fucking dogs so that they can praise their all-benevolent Souza. Give me a fucking break."

"Well...he does have a sort of superhero aura about him. Kind of like Jesus. With the hair...the eyes...."

I can't help but roll my eyes as rub them raw to no avail. I slam my hands down onto the desk, glaring daggers at him.

I'm tired of this shit. Since day 1 when he beat me at that impromptu spelling test in middle school, they've been treating him like a god. It's like they finally gave a shit about someone that was not fully nerd, but not fully jock either. Not quite masculine, but not too feminine. Not quite white, and definitely not black. Not ugly, but not quite...well...

In their eyes he was the perfect mix of everything and the favoritism showed.

People would pay him thousands to recite hours worth of pi, solve decades long unanswered conjectures, and come up with new ways to objectively observe the 4th dimension...whereas I have to beg my tutees to pay me the 50 bucks their mommies and daddies promised me in exchange.

Whatever.

I could do all of that. As a matter of fact I have. I even found a shortcut to the end of pi, but no one would sit down long enough for me to show them.

I, too, solved the Collatz Conjecture...Poincaré Conjecture, AND found a way to objectively observe the 5th dimension.

But do they listen? No. No they do not.

The only person who could conceivably listen to me is Ericka. But I'm not going to lie. She isn't exactly on my level. The only person I've ever met that comes close is...

But that doesn't matter. Ericka is like a sister to me. Loyal. But she's let her hormones take over her mind and body, subjecting herself to his charms. Pretty soon, I'll have no one on my side.

But I've got a plan.

This is my final year of high school. Forever. And I'm going to make it count.

No more playing around.