Ever feel like the universe is teaming up against you? When all your actions and choices are constantly met with resistance and opposition? It's akin to being trapped in a space where the air is dense and suffocating, making each breath a struggle. If you haven't had the pleasure, consider yourself fortunate. Regrettably, I cannot echo those sentiments about my own situation.
Hi there, I go by the name Connor Drails, just your average kid blending in with the crowd, not standing out but not fading into the background either. I tend to lean towards being an introvert, appreciating moments of solitude and finding peace in the quieter aspects of life.
I'm not a fan of large social gatherings, but I do find human interactions to be quite complex. Surrounded by people, I can't help but feel out of place, a perpetual witness to my own social clumsiness. Being by myself isn't about reveling in solitude; it's more about finding comfort and ease in the quiet moments.
But that's not to say I don't have friends. Yes, I do, and one of them happens to be Greg Jimmons. Greg has a knack for transforming ordinary situations into thrilling adventures. He's a slender kid who favors blue jeans and gray Levi shoes that always stand out from the rest of his attire. He probably purchases them at the local retail store, but that's just Greg – effortlessly cool in his own way. His skin boasts a sun-kissed glow, resembling a shade of tan-orange, while his brown hair perpetually appear tousled, as if he's just braved a fierce wind.
Today marked the arrival of an event that had been looming on the horizon for weeks – prom day. Prom was like a pesky fly that just wouldn't go away, a nagging presence that refused to be ignored. The infectious excitement had spread throughout Wolfpack School, captivating everyone in its grasp. People would approach me, as if I held the key to their prom destiny, and ask, "Do you have a date for prom?"
Let me give you a glimpse into my life. I'm a sophomore, so I've been at this school for about a year now. We relocated from Utah to California due to my dad's new role as a cameraman in Hollywood. We could potentially splurge on a more luxurious residence, but my dad's frugality always had him on edge about finances, obsessing over bills and costs. I attempted to steer clear of those grown-up worries.
Starting at this school earlier this year, I felt lucky to have a single friend by my side. Yet, my joy was dimmed by the company of a tormentor. It seems like a common experience in high school - dealing with bullies. Elementary school passed by without any memorable incidents, but Kirk Jexifan certainly made up for lost time. He had a talent for pilfering my lunch and transforming it into a squishy disaster. On many occasions, my stomach would growl in protest, but thankfully, Greg always came to the rescue with what I fondly referred to as "emergency meals."
Seems like those situations were more like a regular occurrence than a real emergency.
The hallways of Wolfpack School were a chaotic scene as students hurried to their lockers. The place was a whirlwind of activity, so tight you could barely move an inch without bumping into something. Voices reverberated through the halls, merging into a chaotic symphony.
Arriving at my designated storage unit, 426, I paused for a moment before unlocking it. Fortunately, my collection of literary treasures remained intact, prompting a sigh of relief to escape my lips. Every now and then, a select few individuals had the magical ability to unlock lockers, such as Kirk, and they would use this power for mischievous pranks like book or belongings heists. They found it entertaining.
As I rounded up my collection of textbooks for Science, a gentle tap interrupted my concentration. The sound of tapping was so familiar and rhythmic, I knew it right away.
"Hey, Greg, what's up?" I greeted, turning around to see my friend.
Greg sported a purple shirt, his signature blue jeans with white streaks, and a mischievous glint in his eyes that hinted at mischief.
"So, any luck on the prom date front?" inquired the inquirer, sending my spirits plummeting. I let out a sigh and shot him a disapproving glance, but he remained unfazed.
"Negative," I replied with a directness that brooked no argument.
Greg appeared briefly surprised, but quickly regained his composure.
"Why not?" he inquired, arching an eyebrow. I gave him a disapproving glance, my eyebrows knitting together in annoyance.
"Prom? Pfft, not my cup of tea," I grumbled, irritation lacing my words. "I have zero interest in keeping up with anyone's romantic entanglements." I don't even care if someone decides to take a rat with two behinds as their plus one," I hissed, my irritation pouring out.
"You do know your mom is going to make you go, right?" Greg gestured confidently, his arms crossed in victory.
"I'll manage just fine flying solo at prom," I replied, releasing a dramatic sigh. "I couldn't care less, to be honest." We can always return home, indulge in some video games, and conveniently forget about the time spent on something completely futile.
With a swift motion, I closed my locker, and the bustling sounds of the hallway instantly hushed. The atmosphere was so quiet, with a tension that seemed to hang in the air. A shiver cascaded down my spine, momentarily making me hesitant to look back.
But I absolutely had to.
With a racing heart, I cautiously turned around, my eyes growing wide with fear. Kirk Jexifan, with his impressive height of six-foot-seven, cast a formidable shadow over me. He was a tormentor who had pushed me to my limit, and I was done with his antics.
"Greetings, Conny-Corn," he said with a sneer, his voice oozing with malevolence.
Kirk inched forward, his every step reverberating like a foreboding drumroll. I found myself frozen in place, completely unable to budge or make a getaway. My mind seemed to have embraced this instant as the grand finale, the closing chapter of my tale, with only Kirk's fist left to signal the end.
Unexpectedly, a twist in the story unfolded. At the final moment, a sudden burst of energy shot through me, causing my hand to clench into a fist. I tightly shut my eyes, yearning to find myself back in my familiar bed, soaked in sweat from a horrifying dream. However, as soon as I sensed the undeniable collision of my fist meeting Kirk's face, and the intense pain spreading from his cheek to my hand, I realized the gravity of the situation.
I hesitated to open my eyes.