THE [REDACTED] DESTROYERS

Boob sweat and Evan peters

CHAPTER ONE
Hey! I'm y/n and I'm transferring to a new school. I guess it's natural for parents to cry on their kid's first day of school. But, you know, this usually happens when the kid is five. I'm sixteen, and until today, I was home-schooled. I know what you're thinking. Home-schooled kids are freaks.

But my family's totally normal. Except for the fact that both my parents are research zoologists and we've spent the last twelve years in Africa. I had a great life. But then my mom got offered tenure at Northwestern University. So it was goodbye Africa, and hello high school.

I'm walking to school, totally excited, but a little nervous. I anxiously check the time on my phone to see that I'm late to class.

'Shit.' I curse to myself.

I start running as fast as I possibly could. I could feel my boob sweat build up and seep into my undershirt. I try patting it away but that made it even worse.

It was unfortunate that I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings — too busy cursing my stupid sweat glands — causing me to bump into someone.

I could feel my body hit the hard pavement. My vision swirling and head pounding. It took me a moment before I could realize what happened.

I looked up to see an angry teenage girl standing over me, her papers scattered everywhere.

"I'm so sorry!" I apologize profusely, picking up all her dropped items. The expression she wore on her face made me almost shit my pants. A vain popped out of her neck and her name tag that read 'Isa' flew off, hitting me in the third nipple.

"Talk to me again and I'll kick your ass." She threatens, slapping me with a turkey sandwich while she's at it. scary..

I swiftly nod and hand her the papers, scared to cause any more conflicts on my first day of school.

I notice two people laughing at me; a brunette guy and a goth chick sitting next to him. I brush myself off and head towards them.

"Hey, do you guys know where Room G-13 is?" I ask.

The guy grabs her schedule, looking for the room.

"Health, Monday/Tuesday, Room G-13." He responds.

" I think that's in the back building." The girl adds in, "We'll take you there."

"Oh thanks!" I say, secretly adjusting my thong.

....

Walking to my class we discuss our home life, favorite subjects, top 5 pornos, the usual things American teenagers talk about. Along the way I figured out that their names were May and Noah.

"How do you spell your name again y/n?" May asks for the fifth time.

"Y-O-U-R-N-A-M-E" I tell her, trying to conceal my slight annoyance. I look around and spot a large crowd. 'What's going on?' I thought to myself.

"In the name of all that is holy, would you look at Max's gym clothes?" Noah remarked.

"Of course all the Cock destroyers are in the same gym class." May adds in.

"Who are the Cock destroyers?" I ask, eyeballing the group of people surrounding the three figures.

"They're teen royalty. If North Shore was "Us Weekly" they would always be on the cover." Noah replied.

"That one there, that's Max prevost. He is one of the dumbest guys you will ever meet. Noah sat next to him in English last year." May said, asserting our attention to the french man holding a baguette in one hand and a designer purse in the other.