Pink Nicotine

Chapter 7

BAD GIRL

Bryson Adams

"You're going to be playing football, don't worry I already got you a spot. Don't associate with any dweebs or weird people. Don't worry about grades and all that shit and you'll be fine."

That were Petey's exact words on my first day of high school. If I did all that I would be easily accepted in to the 'in' crowd.

Everyone or maybe almost everyone wants to be popular in high school. Have everyone smile at you when you enter the doors. People let you go first in line. Girls adore you and guys accept you on the team without any sort of doubt. It was what most of the teenagers wanted.

I thought that was what I wanted too. Petey described popularity like it was something completely made of gold. An awesome product you couldn't wait to get your hands on. No one can touch you. No one can tell you anything or give you shit 'cause you were above them and they had to respect that.

At the time being excepted was the only option. You only had four years in high school and people often say high school was the best times of their lives.

So high school was a big deal for Petey. He styled his blond hair everyday and never wore the same jeans twice a week. He had a bunch of deodorant in his locker and carried a comb with him. Petey basically had the time of his life in high school. He was the star of the football team and scored every chick. But after high school Petey was a nobody.

So my first day wasn't all that bad. I arrived with Petey blasting a Wiz Khalifa song. Of course getting the entire school's attention.

"This is it little bro," Petey said grinning proudly.

"Welcome to my paradise. This is Petey's land," he said using his cocky natural voice.

At that time, I looked up to my brother. Everything he did, I wanted to do. I still look up to him just a little less.

"Remember what I told you. If someone looks at you funny or says shit just punch them," Petey instructed.

"Punch them?" I repeated.

"Straight in the nose. Gives you character and adds up to your reputation. Us Adams can't be messed with," Petey stated locking the doors.

"Can I be the more sensitive less violent Adams and you'll be the tough rough one?" I asked.

Petey frowned, "nah dude. Stick with my plan."

I sighed. "Try to make friends. Let me rephrase that. Try to make cool friends," he said. I just nodded my head in agreement.

"Don't do drugs just yet. People will think you're a drug addict. You'll probably get invited to this weeks party. Don't talk to anyone of those science freaks and sit with my friends. And you'll be popular in no time kid. I promise."

And he did. In a week or two I was a part of my brother's crowd. I got invited to parties and I was on the football team. I didn't play a lot but I was still the best between all the other freshmans on the team. Life was great my freshman year.

Sophomore year it got a little more complicated.

Freshman year I didn't have a lot of experience with girls. Maybe make out but nothing ever really happened. But my sophomore year I gained weight, I wasn't fat or anything just not skinny anymore. I got muscles thanks to the football training and got taller. So I got a lot more attention from the opposite sex.

By now Petey was out of high school and according to him, I had the legacy to continue. So I did my brother proud.

I hosted parties and played a hell more on the team until I coach told me that if I keep it up he can see me as the captain of the football team. Petey was so proud he threw me a party with college girls.