A murmur swept through the crowd and I faltered. "Some, somewhere along the way certain people started thinking they were better, or cooler. I am here before you to remind you that this is not true. A loser is said to be a social outcast, some sort of recluse or outsider. Well, maybe I am, and maybe that's true. Yet, a loser is also someone that insults the nerds just to be accepted. And the nerds are the ones that look at all the porn because the girls are too good to go out with them. And the girls are the ones that date the jocks because they want to fit in with some accessory MTV based world. And the jocks are the ones that wish they were the nerds. We're all unhappy, walking along pretending nothing's wrong. It's not hard to guess why some kids want to blow up their school. So why do you think, because they were the losers? Some kids with a superiority complex banded together to make their life hell because they just weren't cool enough. You are the losers, every one of you, especially those who are too "cool" to admit it."
Silence swept throughout the room. A very unwelcoming silence, remember way back when Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley kissed, and you couldn't say anything for the next five minutes because you were so disgusted? Or those dreams where you're naked and the lunch lady grabs your….thing, and you're so appalled you become temporarily speechless. Yeah, it was that kind of silence.
I looked nervously back and forth, then at Ms. M wondering what to do. Then as some horrible turn of twisted fate the audience decided to save me. They decided to boo. Ah, well what can you expect? It was me and the, what's-his-name, the director of the brown bunny, against the world. It was starving artists such as us that just weren't appreciated. The booing grew louder, I was just happy they didn't have fruit. Shouts of "YOU'RE the loser," and "asshole," filled the room. Ms. Medda quickly made her way up to the microphone, "People, people, settle down now. Mr. Lovell was just sharing his…ideas of the world. We can't hate him for that. I mean if you really want to hate someone it should be your ex-husband you decided to have an affair with the marriage counselor." A distant look came across Ms. M's face, "But really, where are our manners?!"
The crowd shut up pretty fast after that. Ms. Medda wouldn't let it die though, "Besides, Sky here is a special boy," I didn't bother to correct her on my name, "He's different then you and I, and we're nice to different people aren't we? Now, please return to your homerooms, you will wait there until your next class."
I glared at Medda. I know she was trying to make it better, but the "we're nice to different people" bit wasn't really helping. It was her who got me into this damn mess anyways.
The assembly slowly cleared out, of course not without several people flipping me the hairy bird. Medda turned to me a triumphant look on her face, "Now do you see what I was trying to tell you Sky? It's better if you just try to…conform a bit. Make yourself less obtrusive, just fit in a bit better. Maybe if you made some friends you wouldn't be so cynical. Or such a, well lack of a better word, loser"
Man she Ms. M sure knew how to give a pep talk. She slung her arm across my shoulders, making me very uncomfortable, "Now, if you ever want to talk my door is always open. Well, off to class with you, oh and remember what I said about fitting in."
I picked up my messenger bag and slung it across my shoulder heading off to the bathroom. I figured I'd wait in there until lunch, or the end of school, or until I graduated. I plunked myself down in a stall and took out some French homework. Je deteste mon vie, I hate my life. Tout le monde est merde. The entire world is shit, and so on and so forth. I heard the door open and someone come into the stall next to me.
"Hey," I heard a voice say.
"Umm hi," I responded not quite sure who they were.
"Here," a hand with blue nail polish handed me a note under the stall dividers. I heard them leave the stall and walk out the door. Opening the note I looked down, there in loopy cursive were the words I'm a loser too.
I threw open the stall and ran out into the hallway hoping to see the girl. I was assuming it was a girl by the nail polish, but you never know. Sadly, there was no sight of her. While curiosity surrounded me I was also ecstatic, I was not alone! There were others aware of the loser epidemic. I carefully folded the note and slipped it into the front pocket of my bag. I'm a loser too. I had to find out who it was, but I was stumped. The only clue I had was the blue nail polish, which could be any girl in school. I suppose I could figure it out later I thought, returning to my stall.
I couldn't believe that I had spent the last three hours in a bathroom stall. God I was such a wimp. So while I may have finished all my homework and eluded any death threats I was still in major shit for skipping out on my classes. I tossed my house keys on the kitchen counter and picked up my mother's note.
Hey Cloudy, (She still called me that think it to be funny, I do believe she use to be on drugs…not that I have any proof.)
I'm working the late night shift, order something. There's money in the honey pot if you need it.
XXX,
Mummy
Lovely, I picked up the phone to order some Chinese food, and then searched about for some type of alcohol. I know that there's nothing more pathetic then getting drunk alone, but what can I say? I don't exactly have a drinking buddy so I had to make due with my own sweet self. Just as I took a sip of my sherry and coke the door bell rang. Mmm maybe the Chinese was here early, or it was one of those Girl Scouts peddling cookies. Dare to dream, dare to dream.
"Hello?" A short girl with strawberry blonde hair stood looking up at me, "Ummm," I looked her up and down, "We're not buying anything."
She looked past me, "Well I'm not selling," she handed me a flyer and pushed up her sunglasses revealing bright blue eyes. Glancing back at me she continued on, "Am I the first one here," she asked breezing past.
I looked down at the piece of blue paper, there in bold print was my catch phrase, everyone's a loser, yes, even you. Neatly printed underneath were the words so you want to be a loser? Then come tonight from whenever to who knows when at Sky Lovell's house to bond with your fellow losers. Food might be included. Then in bright purple sharpie was my address. The girl was examining the pictures on the mantelpiece, particularly one from my nudist days.
I closed the door and came in after her, putting the picture face down, "I think there must be some mistake, I didn't put this up."
Surprise flashed in her eyes, "No, well someone did."
"Well that's pretty obvious now isn't it?" She brushed off my sarcasm and plopped down on the couch, "So got any food?"
"I ordered Chinese, but only for me." There was an awkward silence and she drummed her fingers on her jean clad thighs. I hesitantly spoke up, "I think maybe you should leave."
She opened her mouth but was interrupted by another knock on the door, there stood the Chinese delivery man, and unfortunately he was blocked by a girl and two rather scrawny boys. I was pretty sure I could take them, I wanted the kung-pow chicken enough, I wasn't so sure about the girl. I concentrated very hard on the delivery man hoping that my mental powers would reach him telling him to go around back. However, my concentration was broken by girl look at me confused asking, "Are you constipated?"
"What?! No!" I stared at her, a bewildered look on my face.
She shrugged nonchalantly, "Sorry, you had a weird look on your face." So much for my mental telepathy I suppose. The delivery guy was becoming impatient so I was forced to let the three stooges in for my tasty chicken. I didn't tip the delivery man because of his failure to comply with my mental commands, stupid imbecile.
We all sat there silently staring at each other, me attempting to eat my chicken. Finally the antsy blue eyed girl stood up, "Right then, I'm Sapphy."
"So?" I really had no interest in any of this and was quite confused. She glared at me, "Well, Sky," she drew out my name mockingly; "I just thought we should share that."
"Fine, my name is Skittery by the way."
She plopped back down, "Charmed I'm sure." I slurped up a noodle, well that was defiantly sarcasty.
The girl with the long brunette hair spoke up, "I'm Frenchy," she reached out her hand to shake mine, in doing so I couldn't help but notice the bright blue nail polish. "It was you?"
"Huh?" She looked bewildered.
"The note in the bathroom. That was you?"
"Ohhh that. Yeah, I suppose so." She quickly sat back down looking distinctly more uncomfortable then she had before. The boys spoke for the first time. They both adorned glasses and were blonde and brunette. The dark haired one stood up, "Well, I'm Specs, and this is Dutchy. We saw one of the flyers and thought we should stop by."
Dutchy grabbed Specs hand and pulled him down, whispering something into his ear, Specs stood up again, "Right, we're gay incase you couldn't tell." I suppose the cuddling might have tipped us off.
I set down my chicken figuring I should say something, "I didn't plan on seeing any of you here. I didn't know any of this was happening, but seeing how it is well that's nice now isn't it." Everyone stared at me, "Ummm, I suppose we could start up a bit of a club couldn't we?"
Frenchy nodded, "That was my thought, but not a club per say, more like…a support group. Where losers or freaks or whatever could you know hang out I suppose."
I popped a bit of chicken into my mouth, "Hmm excellent, excellent. I bet we should try to recruit new members then shouldn't we? Seeing how we had a bit of a dismal turn out today."
For the first time Dutchy spoke, "I could make buttons."
A/N ahhh such kind reviews, I loved reading the CCs which is still open for a bit. If you weren't in this chapter fret not I may have struck a liking to you and add you later. In the mean time here's a Dutchy button for you all!