“There she goes again. Jennifer,” the pimply, overweight high school sophomore said in a dreamy voice as the object of his unconfessed adoration walked by with her group of friends.
“Man, Nick, you got it bad,” said the boy’s friend, whose name was Dan. “Every time she walks by, you forget to keep chewing and your cheeks turn all pink. Since we know you’re never going to talk to her, you might as well just shut up about her, because you know the only reason she’s ever glanced at our lunch table is to see whether it’s crappy hamburgers or crappy hotdogs on today’s menu. She barely knows you exist.” There was murmured assent from the rest of the boys sitting at the table, all of them dressed in ill-fitting t-shirts and sporting various levels of unshaven stubble on their chins.
“She does too know I exist. I sit next to her in math,” Nick replied defiantly. “Sometimes I can smell her shampoo when she asks me for help.”
“Yeah, and sometimes she can smell your BO,” Dan retorted. “Besides, you suck dick at math, so I don’t know why she’d be asking for your help anyway.”
Nick took a large bite of his second hamburger. The lunch ladies always gave him extra since he was so polite. “She must like me a little bit since she could just ask the Asian kid who sits on the other side of her.”
“Oh, now we’re getting into casual racism, that’s cool,” said Jake, another one of Nick’s friends. “Can we shut up about girls now? None of us is getting any action any time soon, especially not from hot chicks like Jennifer or any of her friends, and last time I checked, we were planning our next video game night until Romeo over here got all lovestruck on us.”
“We’re definitely playing 2K this time,” Nick asserted. “I’ve been vetoed the last, like, four months straight. I’m so tired of Call of Battlefield: War Vengeance or whatever the latest cookie-cutter war shooter is you guys masturbate to.”
“Dude, sports are for jocks. It follows logically that sports video games are for failed jocks,” Jake replied testily after he swallowed his mouthful of cold french fries. “But we’ll put up your suggestion for a vote anyway. All in favor of playing 2K at this week’s video game night?”
Nick was the only one who raised his hand.
“Motion defeated,” Jake announced. “You lose again, dillweed. But maybe your butt-buddy Craig from social studies wants to come over to your house again for a ‘special sleepover’ while you ‘play 2K’,” he mocked, using finger-quotes to accentuate his point. “But really you’ll just have gay sex while LeKobe is on the TV in the background.”
“Basketball’s cool, shut up,” Nick said. “Craig and I watch highlights on my phone during class, Mr. Martin doesn’t care at all. DTB just uploaded a new dunkilation for this month and I’ve already watched it eight times. It gets me so pumped.” He took out his phone to check if there were any other new videos from his favorite NBA highlight channel.
“Wow, nobody cares,” Dan said. “You’ll never dunk in your life.”
“Yeah, and you’ll especially never dunk your micropenis into any of Jennifer’s orifices,” Jake said, prompting a round of laughter at Nick’s expense despite the forced crassness of the joke.
Nick felt a little indignant as he chewed on a bite of green beans. “I bet I could dunk if I wanted to. I’m already six foot, way taller than all you manlets.”
“Yeah, but you’re a lardass and you spend all of gym class looking at girl’s butts in their short shorts.”
“No I don’t,” Nick retorted, although he knew that the accusation was true. “I just don’t want to run around in a circle like a faggot. Mr. Kaufenberg can fail me if he wants, I don’t care.”
“You’re staring at Jennifer again,” Dan pointed out, forcing Nick’s eyes away from where they had wandered back onto his tray of barely-edible cafeteria food. “The word ‘creep’ unfairly denigrates socially awkward people like us, but sometimes you really act like one.”
Cheeks turning slightly red again, Nick felt embarrassed that he had been fantasizing about dunking during gym class in front of Jennifer. In his fantasies, she was so impressed that she ran right up to him and made out with him right there in front of everybody, and then she professed that she had always loved him for being so friendly, handsome, and athletic…
The bell rang, prompting everybody in the lunch room to automatically reach for their backpacks and move to throw out their remaining food. Thankful that he was spared any more ribbing from his friends, Nick slung his backpack over his shoulder and loped away towards his next class with a mumbled “see ya”.
Navigating the crowded hallway, Nick again pulled out his phone to get in one more video during the three-minute walk. He prepared to skip the sponsored message in one of Dawkins’ videos when the name of the product caught his eye: BoingAlert. He had never heard of that particular jumping system before. In a sudden wave of determination, he vowed to research more when he got home.