We Were Liars | ONC 2020 ✔

Snitches Get Stitches

TWO DAYS BEFORE

They were watching me.

I'd known the consequences of busting Nat Evans' latest drug rep last week, and I'd done it anyway. I'd told the disciplinary teacher and soaked up her praise with much pride. I'd watched from a distance as she marched to the back of the school during lunch and proceeded to catch Nat dealing more than just pharmateuticals to more than twenty idiots. Many suspensions had been given out and much havoc had been wrecked.

After Nat had come back from his one week suspension, ridiculously short because our vice principal was a lazy bag of flab compared to his female counterpart, word quickly spread through the grapevine that the highly intelligent genius in 12A had ratted on him---although they hadn't described me as that. In Tia Manchester's words, I was a nerdy snitch who doesn't know when the hell to gag his mouth with that stupid bowtie of his. I'd taken personal offence at that, since the bowtie wasn't stupid. But before I'd had time to correct her, Nat Evans had gotten wind of my involvement in the shut-down of his rep.

They were watching me now, Nat Evans and the drug junkies he used to supply to---all idiots, bullies, and jerks---waiting for a chance to pounce, a chance to smash my glasses in, a chance to strangle me with my own bowtie. And of course, no one would stop them, because most of my grade were incompetent fools who barely had enough brain cells to string two sentences together.

Ette always claimed I was too condescending, but I wasn't, really. I merely called things as I saw them, and people hated me for it. Jealous---that was what they were---jealous!

"I'm gunna giv'ya two options: I can smash yer face in, or I can break yer glass's with yer nose," Hank Hank---that was literally his name, I couldn't make it up if I wanted to---slurred. He stood in front of my locker, all six feet five inches of his smelly bulk preventing me from getting access to the treasure trove of knowledge within the graffitied cave of metal---a hooligan or two had already made their mark known in the form of a bright-pink, spray-painted Snitches get stitches accompanied with what I assumed was meant to be a terrible caricature of me sucking a rather large male organ.

He reeked of weed. It looked like he had found a new supplier, even with Nat Evans out of business.

I snorted. "I choose the or. Now step aside, you big oaf. I have classes to get to, and so do you." I pushed my glasses further up on the bridge of my nose, looking up to stare him down. I was a little bit on the short side---for a boy, anyway---but brains would definitely trump brawn in the end. And I was all brain.

Hank Hank looked momentarily confused, the left side of his face screwing up in puzzlement. The right side of his face never seemed to move---probably a side effect from too much weed. "I don't geddit. Yer can't choose the or. It's e'ther one or two."

"Sorry if my multitudinous vocabulary is a little too much for your pea-sized brain to handle, but I'm not looking forward to a beating today," I snapped. "Now please remove your unwashed, unhygenic, completely unpleasant presence from my sight immediately. I'd appreciate that very much, thank you."

Hank Hank continued staring at me, his left eye lazily blinking, his right one completely immobile---as usual. "Yer ratted out Nat, didn't 'cha?"

"Pity his name isn't Natted, or else we could have had a rhyme," I mused. "Like, I don't know, 'You ratted out Natted', or something like that. I do love poetry." Some might have said I was stalling, but I wasn't, really. People like Hank Hank were easy to manipulate if you knew how to confuse them enough.

"Don't play games, yer scrawny shrimp," Hank Hank growled, scowling.

I clapped. "Hooray! You're not too high to string together, oh, let's see..." I counted them on my fingers, "six whole sentences!" I fixed my face into a smile, although it physically pained me to grin at Hank Hank when all I wanted to do was turn up my nose and grimace in revulsion at his stink. "Now let's celebrate your newfound literacy with you stepping aside, shall we?"