One for the Team

7| before

The week is over and we're standing by the school gate, watching everyone rush their ways into the weekend. Next to me, Ace is smoking a cigarette and blowing the smoke on anyone who walks past him. Everyone seems ready to start a fight until the moment they see his face. I told him to stop, but he's ignoring me. He finds it funny. No one else does.

Milo's flirting with Ruth. It doesn't bother me. We're not dating. I don't want us to be. Neither does she. He's asking her about her electives and she's explaining the Stanford Prison Experiment to him.

"Basically, it proved that human behavior could change according to the circumstances you're in. It asked whether or not good people could do evil things if placed in a situation that allowed it." She's smiling as she say it, her eyes big and bright under the afternoon sun. Her braids are tied up on top of her head, but some of them fall down her face, framing a pretty picture. She goes on, "It's really interesting, you know, the power of roles, and group identity, and validation. Of course, the experiment was done on a group of middle-class college white guys, so you could never really expect much, could you?"

I laugh. Milo doesn't. I suspect he hasn't actually heard a thing she said. He's been leaning closer and closer, sometimes going as far as touching her shoulder when asking a question, any question, something to keep her going, but I don't think he's actually been paying any real attention.

"Ruth? Really?" This is Ace, leaning closer to me, so only I can hear him, a look of disgust on his face, like he just caught a bad taste or a bad smell.

I turn to him, "What's wrong with her?"

Ace always has something to say about girls. They either talk too much or not enough. Or they don't know what they're saying. Or they just want attention. I suspect this has nothing to do with any of the girls themselves, but with the fact that they're girls. Most guys I know also talk too much or not enough. And some of them definitely don't know what they're saying. And all of them really do just want attention. But Ace never has anything to say when it comes to them. It's only the girls he resents.

"She's fucking annoying," he says in my ear, his cheeks hollowing as he finally finishes his cigarette. "Always on and on about human rights and feminism and shit. She gives humanity too much credit. It's nauseating."

"You know I can hear you, right?" Ruth asks, turning her back at Milo to look Ace in the eyes.

Ace ignores her, "She talks too much."

"Fuck you."

Ace still doesn't answer her. He doesn't even look at her. Instead, he leans in closer to me and whispers in my ear again, "I can't believe you're fucking that."

"What?"

"She's been looking at you this whole time," he says, throwing the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stepping on it.

"So what? A lot of people look at me."

"Careful, Finn, your ego is turning me on," he says, grabbing his backpack from the floor and showing me a taunting smile, "I've also read your texts."

"What the fuck!?" I say, but he's already on the go, his back turned to us, the words fuck you written on the small pocket of his bag. I look over at Milo, "Are you done hitting on her or can we go?"

Both Milo and Ruth look at me with a frown on their faces. I admit this was not my best moment, but I also don't care. It turns out I have no privacy anymore.  

"And the award for this year's best cockblocker goes to Finn fucking Sexton," Milo says. This is not his best moment either, but I don't think he knows it. "Congrats, asshole."