Take Your Chances, I'll Take Mine.

Chapter One

     It was lunch on a Friday, and the regular band of losers were sitting around the ugly, green, unstable, metal cafeteria tables in the ugly, green, unstable metal chairs. The amount of gum probably stuck to the bottom of all of the furniture was enough to make Dan swear off of gum for good. The walls, which were made of disgustingly oversized bricks that ironically were used both in schools and in mental asylums were painted over in white - well, off-white with a hint of Eau de Dirt Smear - paint that was flaking and peeling as if gravity had grown hands and was trying to peel it off itself. The flooring was odd and almost brown - the colour of wet paper towels - with little white specks littering it, as if people had decided to make paper snowflakes with teeny tiny cut outs, as opposed to it being a design choice made in 2000. Ah, public schools, the pinnacle of style, class, and high-quality education.

     Now this particular band of nerds were talking about a rivalry, and not just any rivalry; the rivalry of Dan and Phil. This conversation was of much annoyance to Dan, as the people involved were literally at the very table he was, expecting him to join in on the conversation.

     "I just don't get where all of this hatred is rooted," exclaimed Louise, Dan's best friend, who at the moment was questioning giving her that title. "I just don't get how you can hate him. It's not as if he killed your favourite pet ferret or something"

     "I don't have a favourite pet ferret, Louise. I don't even have a pet ferret," Dan said, in a harsh, yet amused voice. "I don't even have a pet."

     "Exactly," Louise replied with a grin, "therefore making it impossible for him to kill your favourite one."

     Dan groaned at Louise, who merely stifled a laugh at her easily annoyed best friend, thumping him not-so-apologetically on the shoulder.

     "Sucks to suck," Chris shrugged, shoving the lovely flavourless, colourless, powder-made fries, as well as the radioactive pizza further away from him.

     He continued: "I don't think the cafeteria understands that when someone that they're going to nuke some food, they don't mean it in the microwave, not with a literal bomb. I mean, most people worry about food poisoning, but no we have to be the ones worrying about radiation waves from our food. I mean look at this," he said, pointing at the unnaturally shiny pizza, "this pizza is so greasy that I could finger myself after touching it."

     "I'm pretty sure the pizza wants to be left out of your sick and twisted fantasies and so do we," Dan said, but he didn't really care. Chris' designated part of their group was to be the friend who made too many sex jokes despite being a total virgin.

     "Well, at least that's not what your mum said last night," retorted Chris, with his nose in the air. Dan flipped him off.

     "But actually," Louise said, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger and inspecting the dip-dyed tip. "Why do you hate Phil so much?"

     Dan shrugged, slumping back into the chair. "I just do Louise, leave it at that." He regretted that decision when he heard his spine click against the hard metal, sending a shock of pain up through his body. He winced.

     "Mmm." Louise didn't look convinced. "Right. Okay."

     Dan stared her down.

     "Just admit it, Danny Boy; you have the hots for Phil." Chris chimed in, smirking deviously.

     "Chris, how many times have we been over this, I am not fucking gay," Dan replied, voice devoid of emotion.

     "Your words say one thing, but your eyes in the changing room say another," Chris replied smoothly with one eyebrow cocked, still trying to get a rise out of Dan. The sad part was that no matter how aware of this fact Dan was, he couldn't stop himself from getting riled up.