The Dividing Line

Besties Eat Your Food, I Guess

"Hello, my fellow air-breathing companions!" I exclaimed as I hopped onto the chair next to Gin.
"So, what's it like to be living?" I asked like a newscaster, holding an imaginary microphone up to Tom.
"It was great, until this weird Strawberry-blonde blob came and started talking to us." He responded, giving me a look as if to say, 'I'm talking about you.'
"Well, that bitch!" I yelled, receiving multiple shushes from kids around us.
Damn, being sixteen was hard. Everyone always expected you to be all mature. And if maturity was a test, I'd fail.
Tom laughed and focused on his food. Cafeteria food intrigued us all.
He was an interesting looking guy, with a head of blonde hair except for a lock of blue. He had a quiff and a newfound fetish for leather jackets and pants. And not to mention those chain things that people wear on their pants.
"What about you, Sparkle?" I asked, giving the redhead jazz hands.
"I heard from Gin that you got with that girl from the 7/11! How was she?"
"James, are you really asking me about my sex life?" He replied, rolling his eyes and laughing.
"Yes. I find it interesting."
He like Tom, was a fascinating dude. The kind who wore converse, skinny jeans and tight sweaters. His hair was always gelled and it made it look greasy, which some girls mysteriously found attractive.
"Gin, you're awful busy there, aren't you?" Gin was the best. I knew him since third grade, and that was back when he was a little Asian girl. He made the gender transition in freshmen year, but I loved him just the same. It was a wonder his parents could afford all of the surgical expenses. But we all agreed that it was worth his happiness.
He sat next to me in deafeningly loud pants, (they were yellow) and a black v-neck, topped off with vans.
He nodded his head to my question while tapping the flappy bird on his iPad.
"Alrighty then!" I exclaimed, digging into his food.
"What the hell, James!" He yelled, swatting my hand away from his precious fries. "And what the fuck are you wearing?"
I suddenly looked down, not remembering what I had slapped onto my body that morning.
It was my twin brother's wife beater tee and my really crappy skinny jeans. On my arm was a wristband that said, 'DON'T HATE.... Well go ahead I can't stop you.' On my huge feet I wore Sparkle's hiking boots that he had left at my house the previous day.
"Clothes." I responded nonchalantly, reaching a hand toward Tom's fries. They were grease filled and fucking unhealthy but shit, they were good.
"James..." He warned and I shrugged.
"Besties eat your food, I guess."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a girl walk up to us and stand behind Sparkle.
"Hey, Brandon. Jameson, Gin and Tom."
"Sup Alyssa," and "hello Alyssa," was heard around the table.
She was known as the gossip girl of I-don't-give-a-damn high. Well, that's what I liked to call it.
"Tom, just wanted to tell you that Lindsey thinks you're into her, and wants a little something-something, that slut." And that was why I loved Alyssa.
"Jesus," Tom replied, looking around the crowded cafeteria for Lindsey, a short girl that showed way too much skin and not enough brain. "She just won't leave me alone for shit, will she."
"Don't feel bad," Alyssa responded. "She hits on everyone. Including me-don't ask." She said the last part as inquisitive looks were sent her way.
"Oh crap, Tom!" Sparkle exclaimed the most fake voice I had ever heard. "Isn't that her right there?"
Tom completely disregarded the fact that Sparkle's hand was pointing to a blank wall, and ran out of the cafeteria screaming like a girl.
"Nice one." Gin smiled as he high-fived Sparkle.
"Hey!" I yelled, throwing a hand over my heart. "You're alive! Call his mother! It's a miracle!"
"Are you sure you're sixteen?" He asked me.
"Nope, I sometimes feel like I'm a very developed nine year old."
I smiled brightly, folding my hands on the table.
"It would explain her mentalness." Sparkle muttered.
"That's not a word. Don't be all illiterate, now."