Distraught Malory [1]

(Malory)

The Youth for Animal Rights group meeting ended just minutes ago. I stand at my slightly-dented locker –thanks to Dummy ole’ Davidson- putting textbooks in and taking others out, shoving them into my school bag.

The school is almost completely empty –save for the few students waiting at the entrance door for their parents to arrive. The meeting ran on later than usual today because we had another debate. Being president of the group is tough, tiring work, but I never minded it.

I lazily dunk my hand into my washed-out jeans pocket and find my phone to check the time.

Three-Thirty-Seven.

I would still have enough time to get home, take a relaxing shower, and head to work at Nadine’s Restaurant for my evening shift as a waitress.

Just as I shove my phone back into my pocket and place a textbook between two others, the pitter-pattering of lazy feet in slippers echoes from around the corner.

“Hey, co-star,” says the distressing jumbo chicken wiener.

I pause, just as I’m done fixing the book into the empty space. I slam the door of my locker, fixing my bag over my shoulder and sighing. I don’t even turn to look at him. I would probably go blind. I’d probably turn to stone. Even Medusa would spare me the tragedy.

“Don’t talk to me, twat,” I say to him. I turn on my heel to begin walking away.

“We are going to have to talk, dummy. You heard Bev.”

I roll my eyes and turn to him in disbelief. He’s finishing up patting a damp towel over his wet, jet black hair. It’s so long that it covers his forehead and his cheeks –it’s a miracle anyone could see his face at all. We just had to be unlucky enough to not miss his stupid smirks, though.

“We?” I almost snort. “Who is this ‘we’ you’re speaking of? You and I will talk when we’re reciting scripted lines. All the water from that long swim you just had in the pool must’ve gone through your ears and sunk into your head and finally drowned out all your default knowledge as a homosapien. Allow me to remind you of what you’re missing. We? Doesn’t exist. You and I? Are not friends. My future is important. That’s the only reason why I’m doing this. I don’t like you, you should have drowned in the pool, this conversation is over. Goodbye, Davidson.” I turn to leave once more.

Kyle’s idiotic smartass comments cannon-ball their way into my back as I take a step forward. His tone of sarcasm makes me sick. “Wait- did you actually just call me a homosapien? As in... as in... you’re labelling me under the same species as yourself? What? It must be Christmas.” He gasps. “Or is it my birthday? What happened to pig... or... worm under a blazing desert sun... or...” I turn to him. He takes a deep breath for emphasis before continuing, “...the meticulously fiery remains on an anus-hole after the spontaneously disgusting intervention of the forces of diarrhoea.”

I smirk to myself. Sometimes it really amuses me –the words that come from my mouth.

“Yea well, I’m against animal cruelty. I realised it’d be abuse to say you’re something as dignified as a pig. Humans, on the other hand, well,” I study him from his feet to his hair with a look of disgust plastered over my face, “...considering I’ve been paired with you for something like a play by someone like a principal, I’d say our race as human beings has finally reached peak idiocy. I thought humans were smart. It’s a shame. I’m disappointed. I’m leaving. Goodbye.” I begin to walk off.

Kyle scoffs, ignoring the fact that I was leaving so he could pitch in another stupid comment. “Fine then. I’ll tell the drama teachers to let you adlib every once in a while. This should be fun.”

I slow my steps as I listen to him ramble.

Idiot.

Seriously.

“Paired with the most irritating person on planet Earth,” he spits. “Someone please tell me truly what I’ve done to deserve this honour.”

It’s impossible for us both to forget that only yesterday –the first day of the new school year- we had been paired for what our school knows as the annual April Fest production. Granted, it takes place next year as it’s only September, it was a fashionably distasteful bit of information to have to swallow on the first day of the one school year we –I... was looking forward to.

I don’t reply to him. I walk straight out of the building and wait until I can feel no more of his presence before I mutter my own frustrated comments to myself. “Your hate towards me is just the infancy of my passionate distaste and absolute disgust towards you, Kyle Davidson.”