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Did I tell you I have a new school nemesis?

His name – get this – is Brix.   I was hopeful it was as in “thick as two” or “like a ton of”, but apparently it’s actually Brandon Rix, so ‘everyone’ calls him Brix.   He is appropriately huge and surprisingly handsome, enjoys playing at being the school tyrant and dictator, and was one of the boys’ club bullies who unwillingly took the rap for one of my little escapades.   He’s on the athletics team, he happens to be a scholarship level math whiz, and he goes through girlfriends like he has a cheerleader checklist.

He also fucking hates me.


And in this corner, ladies and gentleman, there’s the new girl.   She arrived the week after me, and I only know that because I bumped into her.   In the boys’ bathroom.   Went to wash my hands after an impromptu solo art class with a spray can, school property fences and some expletives, and found her leaning against an empty stall, smoking.

I looked.   I then turned my back, went to the sink, and let the water run. Then I asked.

“Are you lost?”

She exhaled a grey cloud lazily.

“Nup.   They kept looking for me in the girls’ bathroom to bust me for fuelling a nicotine addiction on school grounds.   So I’m keeping them guessing.”

I finished washing, and turned to leave.   She wrenched herself away from the wall and profferred a hand.

“I’m Harmony.”

“That’s your name?”


I shrug.   She leans over and taps her ash down the drain near my feet.

“I like the first half of my name, anyway.   So do you, from what I hear.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“My reputation proceeds me then?   I’m Jonathon.”

“I know.   You want?”

She offers a crumpled cigarette packet.   It’s not like they’re going to do me – well – any ‘harm’, so I accept, and she lights one for me expertly.


There’s silence for a bit.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Probably.   Shouldn’t you?”

“How are you liking school?”

“What’s to like?”

She shakes out her hair, pulls at her belt petulantly, and flicks the disgarded cigarette butt skillfully into the urinal.

“Nice one.”

She gives me a look.

“Uh huh.   Duchamp and my careers advisor would both be so proud…   You’d better go too, eh?   Havoc to wreck, and all that…”

I grin a bit.

“Sure.   Hey – I hear smoking’s bad for you, yeah?   That shit’ll kill you one day, you know…”

She makes a contemptuous noise as she pushes open the door.

“Pft.   Who wants to live forever?”


The door swings shut.




One Comment

  1. Awwwwwwwwwww…

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