Walking down the lovely halls of Higgin High School, I wave to most people. They waved back and gave me a smile from ear to ear. The kids here at Higgin's were so delightful and generous, especially Ashton Irwin. Man, that kid is the sweetest. Laughter and joy followed him around the school. Whenever someone would need to borrow a pen, he was the first to volunteer his, even if he only had one; such a comical and enjoyable kid. Everyone was like this in my school. That's why I love it here so much. Life is good.
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Wrong. Life is hell, living hell. I hate it here at Higgin's. I hate the school and the people. Oh, the people. The people: preppy, slutty jerks who think they're going to have a future and go to college because their parents' are rich as fuck. I have some patience for them, all except one. Every girl's dream girl: Ashton Irwin. The captain of the (American) football team and #1 on everyone's, and when I say everyone I mean everyone, want-to-fuck list. Even some of the guys, straight guys, want to get some action with him.
I didn't get it, what does Mr. Irwin have that, I don't know, Calum Hood, Michael Clifford, or even Luke Hemmings don't have. Well I'll tell you. A large dick to satisfy everyone's needs; it's like he's a goddamn Snicker's bar.
This guy is a self-centered, popular asshole who thinks every girl is head-over-heels for him, and will do it with him anytime and anywhere. Girls, and guys, have a little self-respect. Do you really want to lose your virginity to a jock two years older than you in a janitor's closet at school? He got held back twice, once in fourth grade and the second time in seventh grade.
How would I know? Samantha Vazquez let me in on the gossip. And how would she know? She was a victim herself: lost her virginity to him as sophomore on the second year of high school behind the gym after lunch.
She told me the way he gets into your pants is by you wanting to get into his pants. In other words, he makes you thirsty for him. The way he starts that is by first giving you compliments on your clothing. Two, he starts conversations with you in the halls. Three, invites you after lunch to show you something in his secret place. She never told me what that something was that he showed her, though.
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I try my very best to avoid Ashton at school, but it's difficult considering I have three classes with him, one that I'm in right now. And you wouldn't believe who my partner in Chemistry is. Yes! Wow you're good at this game, Ashton Irwin.
Ashton (fucking) Irwin.
I had to sit next to him to work on a lab, and I talk to him for one full hour. I think I rather have been burned to death. I can't stand him. He flirts with the whole school's population of girls. Some look at him as greedy, but I see him as desperate. So desperate that he can't find one girl to settle with for at least one month because she breaks up with him for being a cunt. Before you know it, he's moving on with his life to the next available vagina.
Boys, I don't get how they do that. If it were me, I'd probably drown from the guilt. But we are talking about Ashton Irwin here. He wouldn't care how they felt, nor would he know. He's usually far gone by the time your emotions take over. Samantha also told me that.
I was not going to let that happen to me.
Twenty minutes past and Ashton still hasn't moved a single muscle to help with the experiment. Glad though, or else he would probably blow the school up.
"You're doing it wrong," are the first words I hear come out of his mouth. We were mixing chemicals to make sulfur mustards, or mustard gas, and I guess he has the nerve to tell me I'm doing something wrong. He's doing something wrong too: his whole life.
