Welcome to 2015 the modern age of the iPhone and Netflix. These days I don’t see much or any of her. Suprisingly, after I unloaded a bunch of chum on her doorstep we became friends.
It was nice having her around when we first moved into the neighborhood. As time passed, our friendship pretty much got dumped into a shoe box and shoved under the bed when she met Jaxson.
What kind of parent needs to put an “x” in their kid’s name anyways? Its like branding them a douche bag from day 1.
Sure he's tall and handsome, but I, Chase Donovin, am the president of French club and the debate team. I am also on the football team only instead of being captain I'm the alternate kicker.
In other words, Lizzy Bright is right out of my league. Well in all honesty, she is out of everyone’s league.
Anyways, welcome to my side of hell. High School.
I attend, like most high schoolers living in Midtown Tulsa, Oklahoma, to a private, very Catholic school where I am identified by a specific plaid embroidered tie and my black truck.
Yeah, you are probably thinking,“Shit! Are they all ass holes like this guy?”. The answer is yes; yes we are. But then again it might just be because we are little high school shits.
Let me break down the food chain for you. The Midtowners are special breed of ass holes.
We are derived from parents whose sole jobs are to clean teeth, fix boobs, drill oil, and play tennis at Southern Hills Country Club.
The daughters of these usually fall under one category: a teenage girl pulling out her United credit card to buy her coffee drink that takes longer to order than to make dangling
her white Range Rover keys off of her well manicured finger. The sons fall rather far from this thankfully.
We are much more groomed in the art of driving black, massive trucks, often to over compensate, while wearing our Ralph Lauren oxfords unbuttoned showing off our white undershirt.
In these teenage boy’s heads there are really only a few things we are truly passionate about, hunting, fishing, cowboy boots, and football.
Honestly I’m making it sound a lot worse than it is. Oklahoma is a great place full of great people, just look at Lizzy Bright. You only have to be half angel to create something like that.
And look at me. I’m an ass hole but at least I know I’m one and can compensate for myself. You also get the privilege of knowing everyone’s business.
For this I would like to directly thank my mother’s tennis coach and her volunteer circle. Just more and more proof that Oklahoma isn’t that bad.
The other reason Oklahoma wasn’t that have is because I had Thomas Rowley de la Guardia in my pathetic life. Trust me. The big name fits the big personality and the even bigger person.
No he isn’t fat; he’s just massive. And I don’t throw that word around lightly. I mean MASSIVE.
Thomas is as if Will Ferrell and Mary Poppins fucked and had a love child that was Panamanian and almost seven feet tall.
Thomas was always there to beat the bullies in grade school and thank god he is with me now because then I would really be an outcast with no friends.
Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without him.
He was there for me on that fateful Friday of December 15th when everything went to hell in a handbasket. That Friday we were stopped abruptly by Mr. Jenson. Mr.
Jenson was our AP Biology teacher that looked similarly to a turtle wearing a uniform of a striped long sleeve polo and trousers with a nice dusting of chalk.
There is really no other way of putting this. He was an ass hole.
“Excuse me, Thomas and Chace can I see you for a moment?” Jenson gurgled.
Thomas mumbled something under his breath in Spanish which I only assumed to be something that would make a sailor blush.
As if choreographed we turned around armed with a smile and an excuse for what ever bull shit we were about to get into.
“Yes?” I forced out.
“You two will be serving detention today and tomorrow. Maybe your pink slip will remind you that tardiness isn’t acceptable.
Neither is calling your teacher a, Thomas what did you say? Here let me look it up, ah yes, ‘point nazi’. I don’t want to hear your excuses.
Both of you have already run out of extended family to hypothetically kill off or dogs that had to be rushed suddenly to the vet. See you after school.
” I swear to the great being above us all that I heard him move his severely protruding upper lip to form a smile as the pink paper thudded into our hands.
The bells chimed forcing us out of the room and into the hall with the stench of the pink slip still fresh in our noses.
Thomas and I were stopped deadass in our tracks by the second disappointment of the day.
Lizzy Bright and Jackson were in the middle of the hall yelling at each other.
Side note: word on the street was that her and Jaxson were about to break up because he needed to “focus on his athletic career”.
Lizzy Bright was apparently furious and so was her fan club consisting of Nicole and Grace.
I don’t know what they were arguing about that day. It might have been the weather or the fact that Jaxson hadn’t made a touch down the entire year or the fact that global warming doesn’t exist.
I saw was Jaxson grabbing Lizzy Bright’s wrist and she yelped in pain like a little dog. Before I knew what my feet were doing I walked up to Jaxson, “Hey dude.
Why don’t you chill out for a second.”
“This isn’t any of your business.”
“Well, you kind of made it my business when you became the wall between me and my next class so if you could at least move to the side and let go of Lizzy that would be great.”
“Listen shit head can’t you just go around like a normal person.”
I felt it. This pop of energy rushing through my veins. That jolt of Red Bull and anger that had been mulling around inside just waiting to come out. My face turned to stone, “Listen shit head.
Let go of the girl and let us through. Do I need to dumb it down for you or does your negative I.Q. compute that?”
Before I knew it I was getting the jolt of Red Bull knocked the shit out of me. Thomas eventually stepped in and grabbed Jaxson and pried him off of me.
Jaxson was kicking and screaming similarly to a three year old girl being told they couldn’t have the Barbie Princess Castle in Walmart.
I rubbed my eyes and looked up to see my football coach trying to break up the growing crowd that had leaked from the classrooms.
All of a sudden I felt a rough paper towel being held to my forehead by a shaking hand.
“Hey can you sit up?” Lizzy Bright slowly forced me into a seated position and propped me up with the wall.
At that point I wasn’t sure if it was Lizzy Bright that was making my head spin or the fact that I had just been sucker punched by a guy who won bodybuilding competitions in high school.
“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I could have handled the situation better.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Are you fine?”
I hate that word, “fine”. You wear it on your sleeve in hopes that you come off as the chill laid back guy that can brush off anything.
It’s the thing you glaze over yourself to make you appear normal and put together even when the inside of you is screaming and crying.
At that point I was picked up by the residential adults and hauled off to the nurse's office.
My mom was called and of course she was pissed because she had to leave work, but I think there was a slight proudness when she heard that I had punched Jaxson. The car ride back was silent.
The walking me up stairs was silent. Laying in my bed was silent. In the silence the annoying vibration of a text message broke the stilled sound waves.
“I’m not fine.” - Lizzy Bright 12/18 5:00 p.m.