*Everyone in this story is 18 or older*
Jeff Edgar
***************
High school is so fucked. I say that because of how fucking stupid people are in general. Or at least, to me they are. I don't really have a social empire, and I'm not an average Joe who has a neutral affect on the masses. I'm somewhere low on the social hierarchy; I'd say 65% of the school doesn't know I exist, 30% wishes I didn't, and 5% have formed a temporary alliance with me. It's my fault, somewhat. I was a bit odd since the day I was born. As a suburban Californian child in elementary school, I was exposed to a lot of culture, making me more of an international person than most, which influence what I am today (I'll touch on that later). I had a lot of girlfriends in school, nothing serious of course. And I moved.
I haven't had a girlfriend since, nor have I had a girl touch me the way I always wanted to be touched. I've "experimented" with many girls in high school, but my luck seemed to fuck up when it came time to score. Moving to a small Kentucky town took a while to get used to (with all the conservative close-minded bullshit), but Georgia was the worst place I've ever been. I was truly the underdog there. I saw the most beautiful girl I had seen and didn't even pursue her because of what people told me. I listened to them, believed them. I lost all my confidence. It didn't matter that we moved again, I was scarred.
Now, here in Louisville, I go to a school with mostly urban African Americans; they're just as typical and cliché as they were in Georgia. Things are better here than in Georgia, but not so much. For my career practice class, I chose computer tech because of the limitless possibilities. Because of it, I stick out like a sore thumb. I'm an African American who talks differently, acts differently, and thinks differently than the typical Louisvillian black guy at Foot Locker jerking off to the new Air Jordan's he just bought (that's a joke, ha ha). I'm a rocker; I would consider myself culturally to be an Afro Punk or a Hipster (without all the douchiness).
My hair is what gets me the most attention, and it's usually negative. I have naturally dreadlocked hair like Bob Marley and not like the synthetic bullshit that everyone else has. I feel like Kurt Cobain most of the time, like I'll never be understood. But none the less, I have my thrills. Thrills such as hacking school computers, playing epic pranks to make those suffer who made me suffer, and, more recently, doing a little spy work.
Being alone with few people to talk to and distract you, you notice all of the dirt that goes on under the radar. The most embarrassing secrets pass by us everyday. And, like J. Edgar Hoover, I found a good use for them. He used them to gain power and control politicians, things that were important to him. I used the power of blackmail to get what was important to me, pussy. In my computer tech class, there's this bitch, this stupid, sexy, bitch. I hated her guts. She is one of the few white chicks at the school and she happens to be a Goth. Goth chicks are so fuckin' hot. She had red hair, my other odd fetish. But, she was always so bitchy. Always cursing at me and everyone else. She is also a little plump. Not obese, nor "thick". Just the right amount of fat to be consider sexy; not fat nor anorexic.
I saw a few blackmail pornos and I decided to start my "Jeff Edgar" reign of terror by getting dirt on the redhead. I didn't have to look very hard to find dirt on her that would get the bitch in serious trouble. Like a typical little Goth chick poser, she smokes. At school. Easily I got footage and a few pictures. Then, the next day, I walked into Mr. Toronto's class and sat down at a PC and waited. Of course, to show how rebellious and hard edge she was, she showed up late.
I walked confidently (for once) up to her computer, bypassing all the dubasses shouting about how Kobe Bryant is better than Dwayne Wade. I said, "Hi", smiling cheerfully.
She shot me a typical evil Goth girl look with her beautiful green eyes and asked me, "The fuck do you want?"
I dropped the pictures on the keyboard. I said, still smiling deviantly, "Why do you smoke in a corner? Don't be ashamed. I'm sure Principal Scott will approve." She looked down at the pictures for a second, then back up at me with her expression unchanged.
"The fuck is this?" she asked, sounding annoyed.
"That's leverage," I said, now engaged in a stare down with the bitch. I'm taking up photography. I think Dr. Scott'll like the grittiness of the everyday events here." She narrowed her eyes, starting to looked pissed off.
"I don't give a flying fuck if you show these to anyone," she said scornfully. I could do nothing but smile. I love toughness in a chick.
"Great. I already sent one to Dr. Scott's email." Her brows began to scrunch and her chin started to stick outward as she pursed her lips.
"You fucking cocksucker," she exclaimed, just loud enough to sound threatening, but not loud enough to be heard elsewhere.
I loved the abuse. I don't know why, but I've always been turned on to chicks that would beat the shit out of me and give me the best sex of my life. I gave her a big toothy Obama grin (yes, I have one of those from time to time).
