BRAD - London, 2020
12:35

"Do you really think so?" Greg asks, biting his nails worriedly.

"Dude, are you kidding me? She'd be totally cray-cray not to love you!" Chad grins.

"But if I ask her out... There's a chance she'll say no,"

"But there's also a chance she'll say yes."

"But the chances of her saying yes are 46%, and her chances of saying no are... 54%, if my calculations are correct. We are also considering how I said those 'creepy' things last time we talked,"

"Like what?"

"Like how her hair smells like my grandma's curtains, or that I told her I have a collection of her eyelashes which I arranged in order of length and intricately placed on my bedroom end table. Why are you looking at me like that? It's a compliment!"

I sigh, shaking my head at Greg. Not only is he a complete nutcase, but also quite the nerd. Unfortunately, he set his eyes on my sister, of all people. I glare at Chad for encouraging him. We've sat at our usual place at lunch – the cool kids' table, reserved for Chad, Vector, Clive, Noah, Hayden and his dumb twin brother Jayden. Next to our table is the hot girls' table; Courtney, Britney, Stephanie, Tiffany, Samantha (ew), Michelle and Nicole.

Currently, my sister sits at the quirky kids' table. She's not even that special; she's just a basic white girl who drinks Starbucks, listens to Taylor Swift and cries at Billie Eilish music while putting things like "Single Pringle and Ready to Mingle!!" on her TikTok bio. The only remotely "special" thing about Cadence is how unnaturally irritating she is. Oh, and her obnoxious hot pink hair. She's a brat, but a brightly-coloured brat.

I've no idea what Greg sees in her – but I'm not stopping him from asking her out because I already know her response. I eat my lunch silently, laughing at all of Clive's dumb remarks about Miss Cedar's bum or something. I don't know, I'm not listening to any of it.

"Hey, Brad, you alright there? You look a little troubled,"

I turn to see Hayden talking to me, trying to keep his retarded brother from snorting milk all over the table, as what he's currently trying to do.

"Uh, yeah, thanks H," I reply absent-mindedly. I know he raises an eyebrow at me.

"Is this about Halina? Because seriously, I swear you told me you didn't even like her that much anyway... The break-up was bad, huh?"

I sigh, shaking my head. Halina Muffins is from a neighbouring school, and I'd first asked her out way back in Year 8. It was pretty romantic of me, actually...

I'd laid out a blanket on the fields by the school, under a tree and texted her to meet me there. I laid out a note on it asking her to be my girlfriend, with a list of pros and cons. The pros were all about my good looks and football skills, whereas the cons were simply, "I may end up loving you too much x"

It was perfect. She called me later on that day, and I remember how jittery I was. I really liked her... Surely... She'd say yes?

I picked up the phone, and the first word I heard was...

"No, you dumb-ass cunt. Try that with me again and I'll beat your nose in, understand me?"

So of course I tried again, about five times in that year alone. Eventually, one day towards the end of Year 9, she got fed up with me and said yes.

I was so ecstatic.

My third ever girlfriend! And it was none other than the lovely Halina Muffins – porcelain skin, blue eyes, freckles, and a scowl that could break through glass. She also wore glasses for a while until she deemed them "too uncool". I can't say that my sister was too happy about me dating her, either, since Cadence apparently got called "a nasty bum bum" by one of Halina's friends, but who cares about what Cady thinks?

All that mattered was that I had a girlfriend, and I was accepted onto the cool kids' tables with open arms.

But now... She broke up with me, two days ago, stating I wasn't man enough for her anymore. I frown, feeling the rejection slide down my cheeks. Not literally – crying is for babies.

I'm man enough! I tell myself, I'm the mannest man this world has ever seen!

"Chad?" I say.

He turns to me with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you think I'm manly?"

He frowns, "That's the sixth time you've asked me that today, and it's barely afternoon. Get a fucking grip, Bradley."

And with that, he takes his tray of food and walks away, leaving me sitting there like an unwanted crisp wrapper.