Dear definitely not Greyson's diary,
I was sitting on the turf eating one of those stale cafeteria burritos as one does, when this group of sophomore ass holes started a contest to see who could moan the loudest. The audacity of some kids is beyond comprehension. And what does my impulsive ass say? "So you were the chick in my dad's room last night!" This did not go to plan, clearly. I don't know why I thought this stupid book was going to make me feel better, I only seem to be making everything worse. Perhaps I have the plague.
"Who the fuck are you again?" A sophomore boy with messy blond hair approaches Greyson with an evil smirk.
Greyson was never the type of guy to back away from a little conflict, but he also never got into a single fist fight, unless you count the time he punched a teammate in the face and somehow didn’t get immediately suspended or booted from the team. They'd always been resolved before the chances were presented. Perhaps this time would be a little different.
"Hello, your name must be snow white, and I can see you brought the seven dwarves, how charming."
The boys looked over to their ring leader for guidance. "Just so you know ass hole, in the real world, you can't sit around with your panties up your ass." Greyson scowled and tried not to say anything he might regret.
Suddenly a younger guy walked over to the action with one eyebrow raised as if he actually had the brain capacity for thought. "Wait a minute, bro! This is the dude that got booted from the varsity football team for failing 4 classes last semester." The entire group of boys looked at eachother grinning in amusement.
Greyson didn't know how to appropriately respond. He could say anything he wanted and probably still take down three of those boys single handedly. But despite his halfway decent build and A game tackle skills, he felt so incredibly small.
He doesn't pretend to be numb. He wears every emotion as if it were written on his forehead. That's why he had no choice but to stay silent and walk back to the school. A lazily printed white slip of paper hangs on the double glass doors as if to warn students that even though the doors are transparent, face planting is not permitted. "Last football game of the year! Let's go Rhinos!" He's been dreading this since November, and once again, he sits wishing that those doors would run into his face at full force.
Dear definitely not Greyson's diary,
Saturday, during half time, I've made up my mind.