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If not, well, good for you.

But it’s not so good for me.

My name is Connor Drails, a kid who isn’t much of a nerd, or not much of not being one. I’m a regular kid that is more of an introvert.

I’m a boy who just despises the presence of other people that seem to be all over not only my physical body, but my mental brain. The feeling of awkwardness drowns me, and it almost puts me in a bad mood. But that doesn’t mean I’m some type of person who finds pleasure in being alone with no one to love you, or to care even about you.

I have a friend, Greg Jimmons, who is much of a skinny guy that is a friend of mine, and he is a pretty fun friend to have.

He mostly wears blue jeans, and gray Levi shoes that don’t seem in touch with the outfit, being that he gets them from local retail stores. He is a guy who was tanned to where he almost has a tan-orange type of skin color, with brown hair.

Today was a day that I most hated, the day of prom. Days and weeks and months of little snippets about the prom annoyed me already. But the day when it is, it’s the only thing trending in Wolfpack School. People would rush up to me as if I give a care in the world asking: Do you have someone for prom?

.....

Just to tell you about my life: I’m a sophomore, so I’ve been here for at least a year. We moved from Utah to California because my dad got a new job as a cameraman for Hollywood. We would probably live in a better house, but my dad was very skeptical about the amount of money needed to pay the bills and all the stuff I care less to think about.

I joined by the beginning of the year, and I’m even happy to even have one friend. But I’m quite not happy to find a bully though. I think it’s normal for one to be bullied in high school, cuz nothing happened to me in elementary. The bully, Kirk Jexifan, always ate my lunch and squished into a mush that I usually had nothing to eat, but luckily, Greg has been supplying me with what I like to call “emergency meals.”

I guess they’re not much of an emergency if they keep happening every time.

The hall was like a stampede. Students rushed through the halls, going to their lockers and opening them. It was cramped and squished, almost impossible to actually move. Voices bellowed through the hall, as people squished by one another.

I got to my locker 426, and I opened my locker. I saw that all my books were still there, and I sighed with relief. Sometimes some people know other people’s codes, like Kirk, and they snatch my books for fun, as if it’s just a normal thing to do to a normal person.

Makes sense, totally.

As I was getting my books for Science, I felt a tap on my shoulder, but it was a tap that continued at a rapid pace I recognized.

“Hey Greg, what’s up?” I greeted.

Greg was wearing a purple shirt, and the same old blue jeans with the white streaks, and he seemed to be having a face full of mischief that was asking to break out.

“Have you found anyone for prom?” he asked. My mood crashed even lower. I sighed and looked at him with a cross face, which didn’t seem to do much at all.

“No,” I harshly replied.

Greg seemed alarmed by that but not for a long time, perhaps a few seconds.

“Why not?” he asked. I looked at him, but this time with more of a cross look than before, with my eyebrows leaning in towards my eyes. “Cause I care less, I care less about prom, I care less about who’s going with whoever. I don’t even care if someone goes with a rat with two behinds,” I hissed, and I meant all that.

“You know your mom is gonna send you anyways, you know,” Greg said, crossing his arms as if he just accomplished something massive, and worth reverencing.

“I’ll be fine being alone in prom,” I said, sighing. “It’s not like I care anyways. We can always come back home, play video games, pretend I didn’t waste my hours on something useless.”

I smacked my door closed, and suddenly the room was much quieter. I was scared, but not too much at first until I turned my head around, as my eyes shook in fear.

My brain froze still, as if the six foot-seven bully was using its powers to keep me immobile, transfixed, stiff at that same place.

“Hello, Conny-Corn,” he said, his voice reverberating with the sound of fear and announcement.

He walked closer, each step louder than the other, and nothing got me to move and even try to run, I stayed in my area. It was as if my brain accepted this moment to be the end of me, where my story cut short from a single fist that would end my life.

But then, something happened. As if some sort of energy was transferred in the last second, I felt my hand twist into a fist, and suddenly thrust towards Kirk. I closed my eyes, hoping I would wake up and find myself drenched in sweat in bed. But then I felt the bones of Kirk’s face collide with my hands and burn from his cheek into my hand.

I didn’t feel like opening my eyes after that.