Clique // Phan High School AU

"In the end, we're all just animals."

Daniel rather thought that the degree to which most people denied their own self-interest was drawing up to shocking in the current day and age. Idealism had spread rapidly, enforcing the notion that to be a good person, one must embrace selflessness and care for others above themselves. Selfishness was generally frowned upon, and this was very strange because the society they lived in was almost entirely structured around self-serving action. The act of charity was wonderful, of course, but maintained almost exclusively by the rich who had a lot to give. Even the aforementioned rich must have at some point, he reflected, have been altogether selfish in their going about, or else they would not be as wealthy as they are in the present.

From an evolutionary perspective, this made absolute sense, as the primary goal of living was, in essence, to stay alive as long as possible. The continuation of one's existence was particularly self-centered, he thought, for if you would simply hurry up and die, that selfless act would provide a meal for someone further up on the food chain.

There were, of course, animals much further up on the food chain than humans, but the notion that their entire species were nothing more than complex animals seemed to be too difficult for most minds to stomach. Humans, or Homo sapiens, were nothing more than extraordinarily intelligent beasts, but beasts nonetheless, and as such he felt it necessary to remind himself that his selfishness was ingrained in him from his very being. Millions of years and thousands of generations had ensured that he felt the way he did today: particularly self-interested. There was simply no use in denying it: He was a rather selfish person, and that, he thought, was perfectly alright.

He stretched against the linen of his blanket, flipping over in a kind of wiggle to stare out of the window. He couldn't be much bothered to get out of bed, as it was still quite early and the sun was only beginning to rise. It melted languidly into the sky, bursting fiery pigment through the clouds. It had, he mused, a type of ferocious beauty that was reserved by nature only for sunrises and volcanoes. Perhaps certain types of whales, as well.

He knew that he would have no need to wake for at least two more hours, in fact, considering that his father was on a business trip somewhere in east Asia, and his mother would be leaving for work shortly. It was not uncommon that they left him alone; In fact, he had decided that he quite preferred it to the loud bustle of family life. He found that it offered him time to think quietly about things, as he felt that he was a bit of an intellectual type. His room alone proved that: books were strewn over the mahogany floor, drained cups of tea  on almost every available surface, and a mountainous pile of school supplies that bordered on impressive lay around.

He had often wondered of considering himself an intellectual meant that he wasn't one: Once, upon being asked what his IQ was, Albert Einstein replied that he had absolutely no idea, and that only fools would bother with such things. Daniel had always bore a slight insecurity about this, as he felt that perhaps thinking he was clever invalidated any possibility of it being true. Perhaps he-

His thoughts were cut off by an unnervingly loud whistle from a passing train. This too was not an infrequent occurrence and had troubled him consistently since he had moved there at the age of seven. His family had evidently thought it a good idea to move directly near the central station. He could not deny that this certainly connected them to the heart of the city: indeed, he himself often found it a convenience to be relished when traveling. All the same, at any time he was not traveling, he found it a tremendous nuisance. He was very much looking forward to next year when he would finally be rid of the wretched noises.

At present, he was of course in London, staying with his parents, but his mind was in a place of an entirely different sort. Daniel was coming up on his fifteenth birthday, entailing with it the beginning of tenth grade. The ninth grade, he recalled with a sense of mild interest, had been easier than expected. Homework had been somewhat difficult, but manageable, and he had not felt any real need to make acquaintances or friends, as he would be departing to America the following year.