Defying Stereotypes

I Really Don't Understand People

I don't get people.
One minute they're all, "hey! We're buddies! We'll be together to the end!" and the next they're "wow, Ari. You really think we're friends? Piss off." in the blink of an eye.
I'm like a cannibal. I'm fed up with people.
Well Ari, is there a reason you hate people? What did they ever do you?
You wanna hear the whole story. Fine.
So my best friend Kara and I were on the bus to school. Kara was telling me about how she wished we were popular.
"Like, why not? You're really pretty, I'm really pretty, and we're both extremely friendly. Why won't Cassandra accept that?" She whined.
"That's because I'm a freak for not being straight, and you hang out with me so you're doomed." I explained.
"But still!" She replied.
"Kara, child. We're just not cool enough." I soothed. Kara blew a stray hair out of her face.
"Not fair!" She said like a toddler. I laughed.
"With that attitude, they sure won't hang out with you." Kara shot a glare at me.
"Ugh. We're so much better than them." Kara huffed.
"Yeah, we are." I lied.
The bus pulled into the school, and we walked off the bus. Entering the halls, we then went to our lockers, which were right next to each other.
"Shoot. My locker's jammed." Kara muttered.
"Ha!" I laughed. "Here." I elbowed the top of her locker, the bottom of her locker, and the middle of her locker, then elbowed the spot right next to the lock. It sprang open, and a stray pencil flew out. Somehow, Kara was able to keep her locker perfect, while mine was a mess.
"Uh oh." said Kara, pointing behind me. I turned.
Cassandra, Mel, and Tiffany were all perambulating toward us. I groaned as Cassandra took and earbud out of her ear, even though I could hear "That's What I Like" playing from them.
"We heard y'all talkin' bout us on that bus." She said in her southern accent. She's from Georgia.
"Talking smack?" I spat.
"Shut up." snapped Mel.
"Kara, how would ya like ter hang out with us?" Cassandra asked, staring at my best friend in the whole wide world, who was always by my side no matter what even when Joseph Hales publicly spat on me and everyone in school started to spit on me who I was always there for.
"Uh..." She looked at me, then at the girls. Back at me. Back at them. "Sure."
I gaped at her. Really? What the heck!
"Well, we'll be off them." Tiffany said. "Toodles!"
They spat on me. All. Four.
****
"Hon, it's okay." Dad said absentmindedly to me.
"Dad." I said. He continued to type.
"Dad?"
Type. Type. Type type.
"Dad, stop dming Estelle and listen to your daughter!"
"Don't you talk to me like that Ari!" Dad shot back, his eyes still glued to the screen.
By glued, I mean like he didn't look away. If they were actually glued, I'd get him medical help. And mental help, because I'd wonder how he did it by himself.
Sorry. I have the world's shortest attention span ever.
I stormed off to my room, where I saw a little dove that must have flew into the window, abd was now nestled on the windowsill. I opened up the window and cradled the poor dove in my hands.
The dove crooned. It was cute. I tried to get it to fly, but it tweeted in pain. I looked at its wing; there was a small gash on its wing.
"Poor baby." I cooed. I made a decision I was going to keep the bird. It must have read my mind, because it bowed in a cutesy way.
I hunted around until I saw a large old fish tank, where I kept Bubbles, my
goldfish. I eased the dove in there, then googled "how to tell if a dove is a boy or a girl"
"The typical bowing and cooing displayed by pigeons and doves comes mostly, although not entirely, from the males -- it's a courtship display." I read aloud. "Well, I'm guessing you're a male."
"Coo." He cooed.
"I'm calling you... Pat." I said. He bowed in approval. Was that a lame name for a dove? Yes. Did I care? Psh. No.
Pat walked around his tank, occasionally running into the walls. I giggled.
"Squak!" He chirped. I pat his head with my fingers.
Haha.
Pat his head.
Get it? His name's Pat?
Nevermind.
I lay down on my bed and hopped on my phone. I scrolled through my nonificationd, when I saw a message from Wattpad.
harelyquinn_sucidesquad: Hello Ari. Glad I found your Wattpad account.
I raised my eyebrows. Then, I tapped on the nonification.
Me: Who are u?
I immediately got a response.
harelyquinn_sucidesquad: Kara's so nice to me, giving me your account.
Me: Im sorry what? Whats ur name? How do u know Kara?
I already knew the answer, though.
harelyquinn_sucidesquad: Cassandra.
That got me mad.
Me: Cassandra what the heck!
harelyquinn_sucidesquad: Well, Kara truly is a slice of pumpkin pie, isn't she?
Me: Yeah, till ya stole her from me
harelyquinn_sucidesquad: Sorry hun. Gotta do what I gotta do. Toodles.
I angrily went to my followers and unfollowed whipdabpipeitupandstab. Kara sucked. I exited the app, shoved my earbuds into my ears, and listened to the Heathers soundtrack.
God, they were so much like the Heathers. Kara was like Veronica, being sucked into their popular bubble and leaving behind her unpopular friends.
I guess I'm Martha.
I mean, before Big Fun. Like, at the beginning. Refrences on point.
Pat seemed to have sensed my anger, and he tweeted a cute little song. I stroked his head and he nibbled my finger affectionately.
I watched Pat desperately try to fly to me, but then chirp in pain.
"Poor Pat." I said. "Let me help."
I googled "what to do if a bird has a broken wing"
"A mixture of alum and cold water can also be applied. Place a gauze pad over the wound and apply firm pressure. If the bird has injured its leg or foot use antibiotic ointment and loosely bandage. For broken wing bones, cut the toe out of a sock and place the injured bird inside with its head through the hole." I read. "Huh."
I ran downstairs and looked for some alum after googling a picture of it. I grabbed some, mixed it with cold water, and started to stroke the wound. I grabbed my first aid kit and wrapped a gauze around the bird's wimg.
"Chirrup!" Pat tweeted, as if saying, thanks!
I cut the toe of one of my old socks and slid it over the bird.
Pat nibbled on my hand. We were gonna be good friends.