I stop walking, shoving my hands in my pockets and staring at the box as he jogs toward me. It looks like there are some books and a ruler or something sticking out from the top. What on earth is he doing with that?
Blake comes up beside me, walking quickly as I continue down the stretch of brick-colored track away from the school building. We have exams in half an hour, but I don’t give much of a fuck about my grades. I’d graduate even with all F’s for the remainder of the year, and those F’s stand for Fuckit.
I’m not going to college anyway. I’ll probably still go inside and take the exam just to be safe though, but I’m taking my time getting there.
“Guess what I have,” Blake says, his pale blue eyes glowing with excitement.
I attempt to look over the edge of the box in his arms, but he pulls it away. “Guess,” he demands.
“I don’t know, man. It looks like a box of junk,” I reply.
“Exactly,” he replies.
“I don’t see your point.”
Blake laughs. “It’s not just any box of junk. It’s a box of Mr. Leeson’s junk. The dickwad quit this morning and he’s packing up his stuff. He left this on his desk.”
“So, you stole it?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Hell yeah, I stole it. I hate that sonofabitch.”
I shake my head. “He already quit. What’s the point?”
“Think of it as a final send-off. Regards from the boys at Blackstone High,” he says, leaning over to look at the loot inside. It’s mostly just a bunch of teacher’s equipment, books, and a few markers. There’s nothing special about it.
I shake my head. “Are you trying to get expelled?”
Blake laughs again, but he’s not as excited now. I suppose the thrill of stealing has worn off and he doesn’t know what to do with the useless shit that he stole. I’m not surprised. Blake was never the brightest one at school.
“Do you want to pick through it with me?” he asks, slowing his pace.
“No,” I reply. “I want to finish my walk and go inside for the math exam.”
“Math? Fuck that shit man. Let’s see what Mr. Leeson has here.” Blake sets the box down on the twig-laden track and stands over it with his hands on his hips. It’s a triumphant stance, but to me, it’s just annoying. I don’t want to be seen poking through a bunch of stolen stuff that’s not even worth anything. If I can’t smoke it or sell it, then I don’t want it.
I stop and look down at Blake as he crouches down to pick through the box. He shoves a few books aside, enough to allow me to see that there really is nothing of value in there. I roll my eyes. “Just leave it, man.”
“There could be something in here,” Blake insists, dipping his hand inside.
I wait for him to pull it out before I swing my foot at the box. The cardboard caves in from the side and the content go flying into the soccer field, scattering across the grass like confetti. That’s what I think of Blake’s loot.
“Hey,” Blake yelps, leaping up to his feet. He balls his fists and glares at me. “Why the fuck did you do that, man?”
“It’s trash,” I reply calmly.
“It wasn’t,” he insists, but he knows just as well as I do that he just risked getting expelled over useless school supplies. The thrill isn’t worth it.
“Are you going to walk with me or bitch about the box?” I ask, continuing my walk along the track.
“Bullshit,” Blake mutters, but he joins me, leaving the box in the grass to be discovered later by some other student. It will probably end up being washed away by the rain or kicked out into the woods next to the school like all the other litter here. Nobody cleans the property at Blackstone High. Even the inside of the school gets little attention, but at least we have a janitor. Outside is no man’s land.
“You see that new girl?” Blake asks, walking beside me in the afternoon sun.
I know who he’s talking about immediately. Amber, the girl with the blonde hair and name-brand clothes. I don’t know how the hell she ended up in a shithole like this, but she’s bound to have a hard time. She’s a walking dollar sign and thieves have sticky fingers at this school.
I shrug, trying to play it off cool. “I don’t know,” I reply, when in reality, I’ve been watching her closely. It’s not because she’s cute, but it kind of is. I’m just curious what kind of attention she’s going to attract here. She sticks out like a sunflower in a warzone.
Blake groans in annoyance. “Dude, come on. You know who I’m talking about. Amber, the little rich girl with the cute ass. It’s like a peach man. I could eat that thing.”
“God,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You wouldn’t even have enough money to buy her a loosie, let alone take her out on a date.”
“I wouldn’t need to take her out, man. I slam her tight ass in the parking lot and leave it dripping on the pavement,” Blake says, a silly grin on his face.
“That’s enough,” I bark, tired of his disgusting fantasies. “You have about as much of a chance with Amber as you had with Edyth.”
“Damn bro, low blow,” he says, sounding genuinely hurt.
I sigh, turning to look at him as we walk. “What I’m saying is that you should swing lower. Edyth was a bitch anyway, and Amber is probably the same. They don’t date guys like us, you feel me?”
“I guess so,” he replies. “Edyth was kind of a bitch.”
“A major one,” I agree. Edyth is the head of the failed cheer squad, who cheer for the failed soccer team at this failed school of ours. She’s the queen of a great big pile of shit, but she sure does have a big head about it.
I heard she only fucks jocks, and a scrawny dude with stick-and-poke tattoos on his fingers isn’t going to impress her. Blake looks like he lives off diet coke and cigarettes, which isn’t the kind of bad-boy women like Edyth are looking for. I’m probably more her type, but I’m not interested in disease-ridden cunts with bad attitudes.
Blake perks up. “Hey, you’d probably have more luck hooking up with Amber. Why don’t you invite her to the party this weekend.”
“Not interested,” I reply.
“Dude, you totally have a chance,” he says. “We could get her wasted and then she’d probably let all of us hit it.”
I laugh, but it’s a bitter laugh. It’s the laugh of a man who has had enough of the stupid whores at this school and just wants to leave it all behind. I’m not dating anyone, much less boning some stupid blonde bitch from out of town.
“Is that a yes?” Blake asks, leaning forward to look at my face.
“It’s a no,” I reply, looking up at him. “I’m not interested in taking advantage of some rich girl. Her daddy would probably call the cops on us.”
“Damn,” he replies. “You’re probably right. There’s always Jenny, I guess.”
I don’t want to talk to Blake anymore. He thinks with his dick way too much. Jenny is some skeevy dropout that still attends high school parties even though she’s twenty. She likes to get drunk and have guys run through her like a public toilet, but that’s just the sort of people this town breeds. It’s the worst of the worst here, and I’m sick of it.