girl: his name is Ji-Hyun but everyone call him Jack cos it’s easier to say. They are the HAGZ and they are all hot and blonde and Asian and we cannot possibly compete with them. Going from SCUM to the HAGZ is like going from the bottom of Mount Everest to the top in one single step. There is no point even trying to stop Bris from going, but seems like Ravo’s going to give it a go.
‘Okay Bris, go hang with the HAGZ and maybe in a few days we’ll see you back, right?’
Bris gives him a big I’m-sorry look with her nice make-upped eyes. ‘I’ll miss you guys. But I’ll still see you in class and you can keep me in the loop. So … okay … anyways.’
Then she turns and walks off. When you leave a conversation on an ‘anyways’, it means you can’t get away fast enough. We watch her walking toward the assembly hall wall with her high-socked legs and short skirt and cupcake plate.
‘Good one, Tom.’ Jarrell gives me a hate-face, ‘You drove her away by making SCUM such a horrible environment.’
‘Maybe it was YOU, Jarrell.’ I can’t even bring myself to look at her. ‘Maybe Brisley couldn’t stand hanging out with such a – such a – massive COCKER.’ Cocker is my fave word when I need a swear-alternative that sounds like a proper swear. Also I like flarp, dick-knuck and perpenDICKular.
Jack S looks at both of us, back and forth like it’s a tennis match and he’s in the audience: ‘Awwww why can’t you guys be friends like you used to be. I don’t know what’s happening to us all. Why can’t we just be like our old selves?’ The look on his face right now, you should see it, his forehead squished up, all worried. He is truly the densest thing that has ever existed, denser than a tea-towel.
Ravo’s just staring off to the assembly hall wall: ‘You reckon Bris’ll ever come back?’
‘Course she will,’ I go. ‘She’ll hang out with the HAGZ for a day or two and realise they’re hot and blonde and smart and nice and interesting and funny and popular but … like … we’re … more … we’ve got … well we’re …’
…
But I can’t think of anything that would be worth coming back to us for. The HAGZ are perfect and go to parties on Saturday nights and drink non-alcoholic jelly-shots. We just watch telly on Saturday nights or go bowling with our parents. Bris is lucky, she escaped from SCUM and I wish I could escape too right now. Look at the four of us left here. A dense twit, a sucky suckhead, a drunk hobo and a sad clown, sitting on a broken bench under a cut-off tree that had a disease in it.
Nobody talks for ages and then Jarrell and Jack S start talking about something. It’s hard not to listen because Jarrell talks just loud enough for me to hear, she wants me to hear everything that’s going on between them.
‘Jack, you excited about coming along to Philosothon today?’
Philosothon is a school thing that Jarrell does at lunchtimes where they sit in Portable C and talk about God and man and nature and crap. It’s a total wank but she’s trying to get Jack S to go with her so she can un-densify him, good luck with dat.
‘Oh yeah, reckon Philosofon will be really cool and I’ll learn lots of interesting stuff, hey?’
‘You are adorable when you say it.’
‘Wha?’
‘Philosothon.’
‘Phil-os-o-fon?’
She’s giggling all cutesy-like and holding his hand and he’s staring at her like he actually likes the look of her face, hard to believe.
‘Yeah, you’ll enjoy it, Jack. Today we’re discussing happiness in a Socratic sense, and whether self-knowledge is the only way to find true happiness.’
‘Yeah.’ He’s nodding like he’s actually understanding, hilarious.
‘Most people think happiness is born from external conditions, such as wealth and power or body pleasures—’ ‘Yeah, body pleasures.’ He understood that, he looks pleased with himself.
‘But others believe happiness is living a life that’s true to your own
‘Okay Bris, go hang with the HAGZ and maybe in a few days we’ll see you back, right?’
Bris gives him a big I’m-sorry look with her nice make-upped eyes. ‘I’ll miss you guys. But I’ll still see you in class and you can keep me in the loop. So … okay … anyways.’
Then she turns and walks off. When you leave a conversation on an ‘anyways’, it means you can’t get away fast enough. We watch her walking toward the assembly hall wall with her high-socked legs and short skirt and cupcake plate.
‘Good one, Tom.’ Jarrell gives me a hate-face, ‘You drove her away by making SCUM such a horrible environment.’
‘Maybe it was YOU, Jarrell.’ I can’t even bring myself to look at her. ‘Maybe Brisley couldn’t stand hanging out with such a – such a – massive COCKER.’ Cocker is my fave word when I need a swear-alternative that sounds like a proper swear. Also I like flarp, dick-knuck and perpenDICKular.
Jack S looks at both of us, back and forth like it’s a tennis match and he’s in the audience: ‘Awwww why can’t you guys be friends like you used to be. I don’t know what’s happening to us all. Why can’t we just be like our old selves?’ The look on his face right now, you should see it, his forehead squished up, all worried. He is truly the densest thing that has ever existed, denser than a tea-towel.
Ravo’s just staring off to the assembly hall wall: ‘You reckon Bris’ll ever come back?’
‘Course she will,’ I go. ‘She’ll hang out with the HAGZ for a day or two and realise they’re hot and blonde and smart and nice and interesting and funny and popular but … like … we’re … more … we’ve got … well we’re …’
…
But I can’t think of anything that would be worth coming back to us for. The HAGZ are perfect and go to parties on Saturday nights and drink non-alcoholic jelly-shots. We just watch telly on Saturday nights or go bowling with our parents. Bris is lucky, she escaped from SCUM and I wish I could escape too right now. Look at the four of us left here. A dense twit, a sucky suckhead, a drunk hobo and a sad clown, sitting on a broken bench under a cut-off tree that had a disease in it.
Nobody talks for ages and then Jarrell and Jack S start talking about something. It’s hard not to listen because Jarrell talks just loud enough for me to hear, she wants me to hear everything that’s going on between them.
‘Jack, you excited about coming along to Philosothon today?’
Philosothon is a school thing that Jarrell does at lunchtimes where they sit in Portable C and talk about God and man and nature and crap. It’s a total wank but she’s trying to get Jack S to go with her so she can un-densify him, good luck with dat.
‘Oh yeah, reckon Philosofon will be really cool and I’ll learn lots of interesting stuff, hey?’
‘You are adorable when you say it.’
‘Wha?’
‘Philosothon.’
‘Phil-os-o-fon?’
She’s giggling all cutesy-like and holding his hand and he’s staring at her like he actually likes the look of her face, hard to believe.
‘Yeah, you’ll enjoy it, Jack. Today we’re discussing happiness in a Socratic sense, and whether self-knowledge is the only way to find true happiness.’
‘Yeah.’ He’s nodding like he’s actually understanding, hilarious.
‘Most people think happiness is born from external conditions, such as wealth and power or body pleasures—’ ‘Yeah, body pleasures.’ He understood that, he looks pleased with himself.
‘But others believe happiness is living a life that’s true to your own
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