Do Yourself A Favor

A Chapter by Nicole Green

She sits in front of him, leaning back while her feet rest comfortably against the edge of his desk. I don’t understand their "dynamic" but then again, I don't get unpopular people in general. Shame.

Prologue: Do Yourself A Favor.

Alright, so here’s the deal. There’s this guy in our class, and he sits in the far corner of the room near the back window. He’s by himself most days, not that I’ve cared to notice.

If I could describe him, I would say he’s tall, but not lanky, I mean he could be on the football team if he wanted…broad shoulders, medium build, like a silent giant. He has charcoal colored hair and his skin is milky white, some cheerleaders joke that he’s a ghost of a student that use to attend here. Oooh, scary, right? Airheads, the whole lot of them. But meh, they’re cute so…

Anyway, they got one thing right, that guy is scary looking! Pale as a sheet. He has sharp features, his appearance is that of your average high school delinquent, baggy clothes, hoodie over the head. I mean, c’mon! He really doesn’t do himself any favors. People have tried talking to him before, but all he does is grunt or give them a beady eyed glare in response.

I’ve never approached him myself, heh, it wouldn’t be right. I’m a popular Senior, and the quarterback for the football team! Like hell I’ll risk my reputation for someone like that… I’m the great Logan Mackroy! Star Player! Lady’s Man! You name it! I am NOT however, a nice enough guy to go talk to the less fortunate. People like that are just, ugh…creepers.

Well, I guess there is this one sophomore girl, her name is Day? Darcy?"I don’t know, it’s something like that. She is the only one that has managed to talk to this dude so far. It’s like a daily thing for her. You could almost feel sorry for the guy.

Darcy (Let’s just say that’s her name or whatever) always comes waltzing in uninvited from the class across the hall, strutting in a worn pair of pink converse with a panda backpack hanging off her shoulder; what is she a model for middle school wear? Geez. I’ve never seen anyone so confident in something so ugly. Everyday.

She plops down into the seat in front of him, sitting back in her chair while her feet rest comfortably against the edge of his desk. I don’t really get their dynamic, but then again, I don't get unpopular people in general.

Maybe more people would approach him during lunch, if it weren’t for the fact that he spends half his lunch hunched over his desk with a pair of scissors in his hands, cutting away at who knows what. Whatever it is, he’s consistent…I’ll give him that much. But again, he doesn’t help himself out any. People are convinced he’s part of a gang or something.

So now, you might be wondering why I’m talking so much about this guy. It’s because I’m failing English and was given an extra credit assignment (after wooing the teacher) so that I can raise my grade before the semester ends. My team will kill me if I can’t play next season because of bad grades.

The assignment is that I have to make a documentary of sorts about something that fascinates me. I could do a film on why cheerleaders wear skimpy clothes, or why football players slap each other on the butt…but I decided that uncovering the mystery of this guy would be more interesting. My first mission, finding his name, then his eye color. No one has gotten close enough to find out his eye color. I will be the first to go where no student has gone before! And I'll be sure to document my findings for English.

The lunch bell rings and I look to the back of the room where he is eating his lunch quietly. I check my watch and point to the door. On cue, little miss panda comes walking in, and she goes straight back to his desk. I follow her, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed. Acting casual, like a boss.

She looks at me oddly, the purple streak in her black hair falling into her eyes as she stares up at me. “Yo…Mackerel, what are you looking at?”

I cringe. Mackerel? What kind of nickname is that? I roll my eyes and glance over at her, my charm automatically at work for me.

“What’s your name?” I ask, with a slight grin on my lips.

“Umm.” She wrinkles her nose up and looks back and forth between me and Edward scissor hands over there, who has already abandoned his lunch and is faithfully cutting away. “I’m Darcy.”

Ha! I knew it.

“How cute,” I smile and point to the guy. “And his name?”

Darcy gives me a puzzled look. “He’s in your class and you don’t know?”

I chuckle to myself. “Should I?” I speak without thinking, and instantly her face turns red.

“Jerks like you don’t deserve to know it then!” she snaps. “Just go back to your girlfriends and block headed buddies!” Darcy bundles up and rests her head in her arms, pouting like a child.

I’m a bit taken aback. Girls usually have nicer responses when I flash the smile and look into there eyes with my baby blues, but not this wackadoodle! I sigh out loud…I suppose one cannot catch’ em all, as the saying goes.

“Seth..” I’m snapped out of my thoughts. Did I hear a name?

“What was that?” I ask, not knowing exactly to whom I'm asking.

“Seth,” the guy whispers, glancing up at me for only a moment before returning back to his work. I saw the color of his eyes. They’re green, a deep sea-foam green. And for some reason, I feel like I’ve unearthed a secret already.