Chapter Text
Spongy’s POV
One warm morning in September, I was walking to school with my best friend, Woody. I met him in 4th Grade, and the rest is history. That doesn’t matter currently, however, since today is every fourteen year old in Northern Goiky’s first day of Freshman Year in high school. The bell rang as we were walking in, signaling it was time for orientation. I bolted past everyone else on my way to the auditorium, not wanting to be late. That was when I tripped over my own feet, and fell on top of someone.
“Eeep!”, he screamed!
“Oh crap, already!?”, I exclaimed as I spun around to see who I’d squished. There he lay on the floor, bleeding onto the floor beneath him and crying.
I was mortified, furious with myself and feeling terrible for the poor kid. I scooped him up and carried him to the nurse’s office down the hall. The door was already open, so I scurried in, careful not to crush him further with my enormous hands.
“Seriously? There’s a physical bullying incident on the first day!?”, the nurse exclaimed.
”No ma’am, I just tripped,” I responded.
“Hush! I’ll take care of him now,” the nurse said as she hoisted him onto the bed. As I walked out of her office, I sighed and wondered if he’d be okay. With a nurse like that, I doubted he’d get the proper care. I found the auditorium quite quickly, and stumbled through the dark room, just as a girl jumped onto the stage and ranted about how the dress code was much stricter for girls than it was for guys.
“But that’s just misogyny!”, she shouted, and I recognized her immediately. She was my nemesis, the girl who had tormented me all through late elementary and middle school, and even driven me to a suicide attempt at age twelve: Pencil Graphitip. She had already been the demon queen of middle school, and I had no doubts that she’d become the demon queen of high school too. Like the other demon queens of high school, Regina George from Mean Girls and Heather Chandler from Heathers, she has henchmen, or as I should say, henchwomen. Match Firestarter is her ride or die, and secret keeper, like how Gretchen keeps Regina’s secrets in Mean Girls. Ruby Gemstone is Pencil’s second best friend, and she’s probably addicted to some sort of drug, like cocaine. Bubble Foam is the final member of Pencil’s clique, and unlike the other two members, she isn’t as committed towards bullying, and doesn’t condone it at all. She’s actually quite nice, from what I know.
As I watched the scene on the stage unfold, I gulped and wondered how much high school would suck compared to middle school, as there’s a multitude of new students here that don’t know me. I could redesign my whole reputation, and turn my life around. It had been quite terrible, as my parents had died when I was 9, and I was left to care for my three siblings alone.
Now that I was sitting in the auditorium, I scanned the room for my other best friend, Rocky Orewell. Me and him used to play frisbee together, and I had briefly had a crush on him in 7th grade, and now, two years later, I could feel the same sparks of a crush igniting. However, it had been two years, and we’d barely spoke. As orientation ended, I wondered, could Rocky like me the same way I liked him? Or would I be stuck in the crush phase, never daring to speak up for fear of being rejected? The question plagued my mind as I walked to my first class, algebra. It continued to plague my mind until biology, where Mr. Fourteen was teaching.
“Ok, since it’s your guys’ first day, I’m not gonna do too much with you guys. So, we’re watching a documentary about how rainforests work. There are snacks on the back table, and if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the cafeteria”, Mr. Fourteen said as he hopped out of the classroom.
I looked at the back table, and I started drooling like a maniac. Chips, cupcakes, and cookies galore were there, and I was going to get my grubby hands on some. I hopped out of my seat, and grabbed a couple cupcakes. Then, I heard Match and Pencil maniacally cackling.
“Oh my gosh, Pence-pence! Spongy is SUCH a jobbernowl!”, Match mocked.
“Yeah Matchy, and he’s stupid too! He will never get laid with that jumentous odor,” cackled Pencil.
If I had had the same mentality as in middle school, I would’ve went and cried in a corner, but I decided to take a different approach this year. I confidently strolled over to them, my 6’7 frame towering over both of them.
“What’s the big idea?”, I questioned.
“Oh, y’know. Just making fun of a lurdane! Also, don’t you think Match and I are way out of your league?”, Pencil sassed.
“You know, maybe you shouldn't say that about me,” I said, raising my hand, which had a cupcake in it, into the air.
“You wouldn’t. She’s the queen bee. And you? You’re just a little moth, trying to fly with the popular crowd while being a nuisance to everyone around you,” Match insulted, clearly trying to stall my confident standing. However, I wasn’t going to stop, and came up with a counterattack.
“If I’m a moth, that means I’m drawn to flames, while bees die upon contact. I’ll keep flying with the flames of passion, if that’s what you want.” I then chucked the cupcake straight into Pencil’s torso.
What I did not expect was for Pencil to burst into tears and book it out of the room, and Match to glare at me with fire in her eyes.