Dave's POV
"The shades don't make you look cool. You're not fooling anyone, dweeb,"
A tall guy -much taller than me- taunted. I gave him my best poker face, acting as though I didn't care, before pushing past them and continuing my way down the hall.
I sighed to myself. He's right. I am a dweeb. A total loser. I'm not cool. I'm not the sweet ass guy Bro wanted me to be. I'm fucking la-
"Bitch."
"Slut."
"Whore."
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of antagonizing voices. I turned and saw a posse of five girls - who were all examples of a Barbie gone wrong- picking on a petite girl. She had (h/l), (h/c) hair that brought out her (e/c) eyes. However, her locks covered her face and her (e/c) hues were casted downward at the floor. She didn't say anything as the girls insulted her- she just soaked in their words like a sponge absorbing water.
The girl tried to push past them, but they just shoved her back into the lockers and laughed before jeering at her again.
"Oh my God, you're so ugly!"
"It's no wonder you're single!"
"Haha! Look at you, you're so pathetic!"
The girl bit her lip, as though she was trying not to cry. I couldn't watch any longer. I strode over there, my tall physique towering above the party of five.
"Sup, whores?" I managed to say. They turned around.
"Ugh, it's 'Mister Too Cool'," one scoffed.
"Ugh, it's a ratchet ass hoe," I retorted. I diverted my attention from her and turned to their victim, "Hey, c'mon. Let's go."
The girl nodded and began maneuvering her way past them; with me following behind her. She gave her tormentors one last glance as we walked off into the seemingly never ending hallway.