Four bad boys, Ayden, Hayden, Brayden, and Okayden, try to form a school club to learn how to fight their bad boy instincts, or succumb to cliches trying.
*******
When Ayden's six-pack ap...
"Okay, I get it," I interrupt, but the bitch keeps going and going...
"-deep, deep, deep down," he says. "This is just temporary, brother! Once we register as a club, and we have a club room on our own, we will have a safe space away from all these weirdos."
"Oh, let's see," I say. "A safe space without anyone else where I can chill and be happy with no drama. That sounds a whole lot like my fucking vent!"
"Don't be like that!" he says. "Look, just give us another shot, okay? I promise that yesterday was just a fluke. That woman ain't gonna be around us no more, and Brayden can come to school! Look, here he comes, and no drama. See?"
As he points somewhere behind me, I can practically feel the drama hitting me like a wave, like when you come back from the beach and you still feel your body being swayed back and forth, but with weirdness. What came down riding from the middle of the road was a baggy-sweater spaghetti kimchi weirdo riding a unicycle, with a huge Cadillac Escalade slowly driving behind it, which I assume is bulletproof, fireproof, and whatever other thing mafiosos get killed-proof. Backstab proof? Whatever.
The point is, the Cadillac is slowly running behind the unicycle, with two distinctive misshapenly-shaped heads popping from either side, screaming at Brayden.
"C'mon, boss!" says Jungkook. "I mean, bro! Get in here! It's dangerous outside."
"Yeah, boss," says Harry Styles, "I mean, homie. You're exposed outside! Let us protect you!"
"i'm not getting into that fuel-burning machine!" screams Brayden. "i'm committed to saving the environment!"
"What the hell is he doing?" I ask.
Hayden only shrugs, which is the biggest non-answer there is. "He just doesn't like leaving a carbon footprint."
"He could get a bicycle," I say. Also, I'm pretty much sure that making such a huge machine slowly inch away is burning more fuel, but what do I know? I'm powerwalk gang 4 life.
Brayden parks in front of us, in which I mean he dismounts in a run, grabbing the unicycle behind him. His sweater today reads "I live in Spain, but without the S."
"whatup, homeboy?" he says, slapping Hayden on the chest. "master chef."
"Small Kahuna," says Hayden. "I was just talking with Ayden here, telling him how chill everything's gonna be from now on. No drama, right?" he punctuates with a not so subtle wink.
Brayden looks at him for a few seconds with the same eyes a pug would use to try and mind-bend a french fry from the table to the floor, before trying, and failing, to return the wink. Instead of winking, he painfully closes both eyes while making his eyes twitch like a tweaker trying to quit his nose candy, cold turkey.
"yeah," he says, after more than an uncomfortable time of silence, and taking a drag of his Juul. "no drama here, homs. smooth sailing from here on- what the fuck is that?"
"What's what?" asks Hayden.
"that!" says Brayden, pointing at something beneath us. A bag, stained with pieces of puff pastry, custard, and dulce de leche. "who in the hippity-fuck would be wack enough to litter in front of this prestigious house of learning, and shit? did you see who did it? cuz I swear i'm gonna find who did it and ruin their stease."
This is it! This is my way out. If I come out as the culprit, he's gonna stay as far away from me as possible. Burning bridges is the best way for a Bad Boy to be left alone, after all. Not actual bridges, mind you, because they are made of concrete. Concrete is hard to burn.
But before I can speak up, I feel Hayden's sausage fingers over my mouth.
"Yeah, brother. It was...him!" says Hayden, pointing at a totally random and incredibly unremarkable person walking around. He is super normal and is not worth describing in any way.
I got to say, I didn't pint Hayden for a liar. That's cold, even for a bad boy.
"oh, word?" says Brayden, snapping his fingers.
Almost immediately, Jungkook and Harry appear behind him as if instantly transmitting, both of them wearing the same clothes as him, only that Jungkook's sweater reads "Yass," and Harry's reads "Queen."
"you know what to do," says Brayden. "take care of him."
The pair nod, moving more nimbly than I care to admit, and lift the unsuspecting man from the armpits. As the poor man mumbles in confusion, he is taken somewhere outside our view, where his screams are heard only for a second, before being shut down abruptly.
Brayden picks up the bag, putting the contents and the bag inside the proper recycling bins. And yes, Hayden's hand is still over my mouth.
"Took care of it, boss," says Jungkook, with a weird stain in his sweater that wasn't there before. "I mean, compadre."
"good!" says Brayden. "now, shall we go in? i'm sure the bell's about to ring. gotta learn some shit, yo!"
And just as he said, the bell rings, along with the realization that Hayden just saved my easily-bruised skin.
"also," he says, poking my plastic bag, "if you don't get a biodegradable alternative to that, i'm gonna shove that crap down your throat, k? k."
Shaking these two is gonna be harder than I thought.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
