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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1475488
Rated: E · Short Story · Teen · #1475488
The definition of a loser in highschool... what exactly does this entail?
Define Loser

A social life; a must have in high school.

But...

Why should I say hello, when i know deep down that I don't even mean it. Why do you say hello right back, when I know that you know that deep down, you don't even mean it.

At school we can paint ourselves to be who ever we want ourselves to be.


Q walks past me everyday whithout a single notice. Then one day she stops. She grins at me as if we are good friends who have been good friends a long, long time. I guess we had been good friends but that friendship had ended a long, long time ago.

"Hey," she says. " I like your hair. It suits you - did you get it cut?"

Yes I did, I should like to reply. Three weeks ago. But not really. Instead I say, "Really, you think? Thanks!" And I smile right back at her.

"It's cute. Hey what'd you get on the last History essay we did?"

"Um, I think like 83% or something," I lie. In actuality I got a 90, but a 90 sounds a little too high. I want to stand out, but I don't want to stand out in the wrong way.

"Wow, you're lucky you're so smart. I'm just stupid," she laughs at her own belittling comment. I know that this too is a lie. Q is not stupid at all. She'd been in the same class as me all through out elementary school, we'd even been friends at one point as we'd had sleepovers and gone to eachothers birthday parties. Q had always been one of the brighter kids in the class. Oh well, that was the past and at present Q was obviously now stupid.

"And you're done with the one due tomorrow? Can I borrow it?" I don't respond right away and she ads on a please.

"Sure," I answer while digging through my bag for it. "Just let me know if you can't read my writing." I smile as I hand it over to her. Q beams at me.

"Thanks so much! Oh my god, you're the best!" A part of me wants to challenge what she's just said. Am I really the best? But that's only a small part of me. She turns away now that she has what she's come for. "I'll give it back tomorrow I promise." I watch her move away and blend in with the rest of the crowd in the bustling hallways. I doubt she'll keep that promise and a little dread seeps into me. If I don't have that essay tomorrow to hand in I know that I'll be screwed.

I feel as if I've died a little inside. Why do I want her to like me so much? Especially when I fully know that the closest of that ever happening is letting her walk all over me. Which I just did. I just got used.



It's true I'm now a bit of what some people would call a loser. A social outcast, I guess you could say. It's not like I don't have any friends. I do have a lot of friends. A handful of people that I actually truly care about. But to the world of high school and popularity a handful of true, good friends is nothing. It's meaningless. But if that's how someone would describe a loser, I strongly disagree. In my mind it's the other way around.

I look down on them, while at the same time they look down on me. It's an odd way to look at things. Do you get what I mean?

A loser to me, is someone who'd trip all over themselves to be "popular". I say popular sarcastically. I mean, doesn't popular mean to be liked? Then why is it a fact that some of the most popular kids at my school are also the most hated. If people would just be themselves and speak their minds, those popular kids whom everyone scretly hates yet envies at the same time because of their social status - would no longer be popular and then there'd be no hate... right?

All the niceties of school, in my own opinion and from experience, can get really tiring. I found myself wearing down after a while of caking my face with all giggles and smiles. Of constantly having to suck up to those who "mattered". Until one day I just broke. I decided to screw with being "nice".

If being "nice" meant constantly being a fake follower who and letting people who fake being your friends - aka the popular kids - walk all over you. Then screw it. I'd had enough of it. I'd rather be alone knowing that I have those few good friends than to force myself upon people I don't care about.

Now here I am, a social outcast / nobody. Yet I find I like it this way better. Some people would describe me as cold or mean, but whatever. To me putting on all the air of niceties without the sincerity is even more cold. At least now you'll know the next time I compliment you or ask how you're doing, you'll know that I really mean it.
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