“Oh, he said the whole word,” Sam pointed to him and looked at me, like he was telling the teacher. “That’s two dollars.”
This was the most insane way to bond. But it seemed to be working?
“You’re all wussies,” I tried. My mind was preoccupied with trying to determine how many of us didn’t have a class right now and how many of us were skipping a class we were supposed to be at. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
“We’ve all heard you say worse than that, Chambers,” Kevin told me while shaking his head. He held a hand up after he spoke, immediately deciding that wasn’t enough. “You little bitch.”
“There’s pressure!” I defended. Pressure during a baseball game? I was tough. Pressure any other time? A very mixed bag. Sometimes I wilted like a flower. “You’re, uh,” my mind had no insults. Only flowers. Daisy? Petunia? Tulip? Lettuce? That also wilts. “Wussies but with a P?” Oh, pansies! That was an actual insult at least.
“Closer,” Joey encouraged. “You lame homo.”
“Thanks, man. I mean, woman?” In addition to still being terrible, I hoped he didn’t tell Lydia or Alicia about that.
“Oh my god,” Ted laughed. “Hopeless.”
With so many of us either free or not where we were supposed to be, we decided to just go running outside. It was a nice fall day, and school would be over soon, so it wasn’t like we’d be gross all day. We went to coach’s room because Zach and a few other guys were in there, so we were going to get them first before heading out.
“Hey, Ted, your hair looks stupid,” Sam said. Everyone chimed in with their agreement.
“That wasn’t even a pejorative,” Ted argued.
“I know, it just needs to be said and this felt like the right time.”
Yeah. I wouldn’t even charge Sam for it.
We made it to Coach’s class and Kevin went in to get the guys.
“Pejorative,” Joey repeated, pronouncing it more or less right. “What do you do? Read books?” Joey scoffed. “You… literate bastard person.” He groaned. I laughed along with everyone else. Then he continued with, “God, why am I as bad at this as Luke now? I call things faggy all the time!”
“That’s great,” I said. One of my best friends right there.
“It’s a fun word, Luke,” he told me seriously. “I can’t help it.”
“Hey Ted?” Sam spoke. “Your hair is still stupid.”
“Oh thank god,” Zach said as he stepped out of the classroom. “Are we finally talking about that? Inbred hicks donotlook good with neon hair.”
“And Zach doesn’t even know what we’re doing,” Sam marveled while everyone else laughed. Ted alternated between giving people the middle finger and punching them.
“Actually, I heard you all screaming bad words like five-year-olds who’ve never used them before,” Zach said and threw me a 20. “That should cover me for the day.” Oh boy.
Zach and Sam exchanged a look. “Hey Ted,” they both said at the same time.
“Okay, you gay, hopelessly small-minded pricks,” he retorted without even hearing their insults. He pointed to his hair. “This looks amazing.” He got out a five, then another, and handed them to me. “And if you homos think I’m going to stand around and let you insult my honor, then you are the faggiest fags to ever fag.”
That really got worse there at the end, but most of the guys laughed anyway.
We were being really loud douchebags, so we should probably stop, but it felt good to all be getting along again. And yeah, while they were tossing the word fag around every two seconds, the word had never sounded less mean to me. We were insulting each other but also laughing.
Still, this was probably not a great idea. “I think that’s enough,” I said. I at least had totryto be the voice of reason.
“I’m getting my money’s worth,” Zach said to me. We all waited. “Obviously, I’m not like the rest of you animals. I can wait for the right moment.”
“Yeah, come on, Luke,” Sam said. “Let the man-whore have his fun.”
“Well, whatever. Let’s at least lower the volume,” I said.
“Good call,” Ted said. “Good call.” A pause. “You motherfucker,” he added. Did swearwords even count? I guess some people would find them offensive. On the other hand, we would all go broke.
