ClickHole

It’s Your First Day At A New High School. Can You Become Popular?

Today is your first day at Pike Central High School. It represents a much-needed fresh start for you, as all your life you’ve been a nobody. Quiet and lacking self-confidence, you’ve more or less been invisible to your peers, but today you have a chance to change that. You’re at a new school in a new state, and you can be whoever you want to be!

The past is behind you. Believe in yourself, and you can become high school royalty.

Wow, school. The place where knowledge happens. How exciting it is to be in your new stomping grounds. You’ve been told to go to the atrium, where your orientation buddy will be waiting to show you around the school.

Okay, not exactly off to the best start. But luckily, you have now found the real high school.

“Are you Kevin? It is me, Ormul, your orientation buddy!” he says. “The school has chosen me to be your new best friend. Your world is now Ormul’s world. I will show you all the things. I will teach you the nice places to go to think about math. On weekends, we will have sleepovers at my duplex, and we will explore my Legos. It is Kevin and Ormul from here on out. I have waited for this day.”

“Come with me now, please. I will show Kevin all of the things and the people. We are best friends.”

“I understand. No one wants to be friends with Ormul. I hope you have a nice time at school, Kevin.”

All right. Time to show Pike Central what you’re made of.

This is great. Much better than trying to meet new people.

Gosh, it’s really beautiful outside.

Why would anyone ever do anything other than this? So peaceful. School can wait. You’re just going to do this from now on.

Here you are in history class. There are a lot of potential friends sitting around you, but you don’t want to come across as desperate. You want to give off an air of mystery and coolness so that the other students will feel puzzled and intimidated enough to want to be your friend.

“Class, we’ve got a new student joining us today,” your teacher says. “His name is Kevin.”

So far, so good. What do you want to do now? You could just sit quietly and learn. Or, if you’re feeling mischievous, you could act out to impress your classmates.

“Kevin”? Did you really just say that? You get your first chance to introduce yourself to your new peers and all you can do is blurt out your own name? Better hope no one was paying attention.

“Hey, man, I’m Teddy. I saw that thing you just did where you said your own name. That was weird, and it made me uncomfortable. Just thought you should know.”

Yikes. Off to a rough start. But hopefully, if you play your cards right, you can still become popular.

What do you want to do now?

Nice. Though acting out might get you in trouble, it’s a great way to break the tedium of the classroom and earn your peers’ respect. How do you want to act out?

“Today, we will be learning about the Renaissance, a period from the 1300s to the 1600s when everyone was giant and made of marble. The giant marble men and women all lived in Italy, and they spent most of their time sculpting tinier versions of themselves out of bronze in hopes that the tiny bronze men would come to life and become their slaves. But they never did come to life, and the marble men and women realized that they really needed a closet to store them all. So, they invented museums, and to this day, we still use museums as closets for tiny bronze men.”

Mmmm, yeah, you are learning.

“Now, you’ve probably heard the term ‘Renaissance man,’ and this refers to the giant marble men who just four centuries ago held total dominion over the earth, belligerently stampeding across continents in search of new shapes they could sculpt out of bronze. The most famous Renaissance man was, without a doubt, Michelangelo’s David, whose spectacular corpse is now on display in Florence. David was Michelangelo’s son, and throughout the 16th century, the two could constantly be seen strolling nude, hand in hand, shouting in unison about all the things they found beautiful.”

You are getting so many new facts.

“The Renaissance came to an end in August 1603, when bowling ballsized meteors rained down upon the earth for three consecutive days and shattered most of the giant marble men mid-stride. The ones who survived fled Europe and colonized the land we now know as Oklahoma, where their descendents still live and prosper to this day. But looks like we’re out of time for today, so I’ll see you all tomorrow, when we’ll begin discussing the Age of Enlightenment.”

Your first class at Pike Central has come to an end, and unfortunately you didn’t make any new friends. You’re going to need to try harder if you ever want to become popular.

“This is drinking fountain. Whenever your mouth is hot, you can come here and suck from the cooling spigot.”

“This is lockers. Here is where you can put your shirts and food. Ormul’s locker is B72. The code is 6-33-14. You are my best friend. I invite you to keep your shirts here.”

“Here is intercom. It is the mouth of the wall. When the wall wants to talk, it talks through intercom, its mouth. The mouth will not eat food like our mouths, though—Ormul has tried many times to feed it.”

“Here is Pretty Girls. The boys at Pike Central lust after them constantly, except for Ormul. Ormul does not lust.”

“This is Locker Room Girls. They always say, ‘Ormul, you cannot be in here,’ but if this were so, then why is door unlocked?”

“This is Special Ed Students. They always misbehave, but they cannot help it.”

“This is Jocks. They throw balls and wear matching shirts.”

“This is Theater Kids.”

“And finally, this is Cool Kids. They are the most famous kids in all of Pike Central High School. Come, Ormul will introduce you to them.”

You’re starting to realize that Ormul might be a bit of a social liability. He’s a nice guy and all, but you really want to be popular, and that’ll most likely never happen if people associate you with Ormul. You should probably just politely tell him that you’d prefer to do things on your own.

Poor guy. You’re gonna have to find a way to let him down easy.

“Sorry to interrupt, my great friend Kevin, but here is some money for you.”

Nice. You’re looking really cool.

Yes! You spit up all over the front of your shirt, and now everyone in class is looking at you. They’re not necessarily laughing, per se, but you can tell they all thought it was really funny and cool.

A girl wrote you a note, and it’s getting passed your way!

Oh, no! Your plan has backfired, and it looks like throwing up on yourself has somehow made you less popular.

“Hi Kevin!” Caitlin says. “If it wasn’t clear in the note, the way you smell is ruining everyone’s day. You need to leave forever.”

“Hi Kevin. I agree with Caitlin,” says your teacher. “You smell like a thousand nightmares and you have to go away. I’m your teacher. You must obey me.”

Yes! You kicked the hive at the American flag, and now bees are everywhere. Your classmates are screaming, but you’re pretty sure there’s some laughter mixed in with the shrieks. This is going to make you so popular.

“Kevin, I am so mad right now,” your teacher says. “Not only did you disrespect me and your classmates by unleashing an enraged storm cloud of bugs, but you disrespected Old Glory and the very concept of homework. That’s disgraceful. We’re going to have to expel you, Kevin. Maybe you’ll have better luck trying to be popular somewhere else.”

There they are: the cool kids. If you can join their ranks, you’ll be at the top of the social pecking order. But they won’t let just anyone into their exclusive crew. To prove yourself worthy, you’ve got to play your cards right.

Yes! A gift! But what do you give them?

Great idea. Nobody knows you here, so you’ve got a clean slate. You can be anyone you want to be.

Smart choice. You don’t need to bribe anyone or lie to make friends. Just do something cool and wait for all your popular new friends to start flocking.

What cool thing do you want to do?

“What’s this, some kind of gift?” the ringleader asks.

“What is this, some kind of gift?” the ringleader asks.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Now you’re just standing there awkwardly and the cool kids are staring at you. Better do something.

“We’d rather you didn’t.”

“What are we supposed to do with this?”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“No.”

“Tony Hawk, huh?” the ringleader says. “That’d be pretty cool if it were true. But I’m not sure I believe you. Prove that you are who you say you are.”

“Whoa, it really is you. Wanna be friends with us?”

You did it! By joining their friend group, you are now officially a popular kid. There is no truer, greater happiness than this.

Share Your Results

“Hey, kid,” the ringleader says, just moments after you finish saying all the names of the states. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. I’m Trey, and my friends here are Logan, Gromgol, and Cleff.”

“Hey, kid,” the ringleader says, just moments after you finish roaring like the powerful cinema lion. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. I’m Trey, and my friends here are Logan, Gromgol, and Cleff.”

“Well, Kevin, we just wanted to stop by and let you know that no one gets away with loudly reciting all the glorious U.S. states in public except for us. Got it? That’s our thing. Now get out of here, and don’t let us see your face again.”

“Well, Kevin, we just wanted to stop by and let you know that no one gets away with roaring like the huge mad movie cat in public except for us. Got it? That’s our thing. Now get out of here, and don’t let us see your face again.”

There it is: your ticket to popularity. Go ahead and swallow the angry venomous snake before the cool kids go away.

You did it! You swallowed the cobra! The cool kids saw everything, and now they’ve come over to talk with you.

“Hey, man,” the ringleader says. “We saw you swallow that disgusting snake over there. That took a lot of balls. Do you wanna be our friend?”

Yes! They’re inviting you to join their crew, which means you’re gonna be popular. But before you can respond to them, you start feeling a little...funny. You’re incredibly dizzy and disoriented. You’re beginning to suspect that the cobra is very much still alive and tearing apart your insides with its poisonous fangs.

The venom takes over, and you collapse to the ground. The sky above you gets blurrier and blurrier, and before you get a chance to embrace your newfound popularity, you die. School’s out. Forever.

This is your locker. What do you want to do with it?

“Hey, man, why are you doing that?” asks one of your fellow students as you begin pumping your new locker full of water. It’s a good question—one you hadn’t considered before you began flooding your locker. Maybe you thought doing something reckless and ill-advised would earn the respect of your peers and help you make friends? It’s hard to say.

“Okay, well, don’t do that. That’s not how you make friends.”

Doesn’t look like your locker leads to anywhere else. And now you’re stuck inside of it. Boy, this is embarrassing. There’s no way you’d ever become popular if your new classmates ever found out about this. You should probably just stay in here and patiently wait out the rest of your life.

“Hi there,” your second-period teacher says. “You must be Kevin. Welcome to second period.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Why don’t you go ahead and take a seat?”

“Today, we’ll be learning about math. Now, can anyone tell me what math is?”

“Kevin! What do you think math is?”

“Anyone? No one can tell me what math is? Kevin! How about you? Would you like to take a guess?”

“Yes, you! The new student who has no friends! Tell me what math is.”

“That’s exactly right! Wow, looks like we’ve got a little genius on our hands.”

The two girls in front of you keep looking back your way and whispering. Maybe they’re talking about how they think you’re cute? You really hope that this is what they’re talking about.

“Hey, Kevin,” one of them whispers. “You see us? The two girls who are looking at you right now? We are both popular. We have more friends than there are shining stars in the sky. And guess what? We could make you popular, too.”

“But ever since you started showing off how much you know about math, we’re starting to think you’re not really cut out to be popular. You seem like a teacher’s pet.”

“Quiet please!” the teacher shouts, cutting you off before you can defend yourself. “I still have more facts to tell you about math.”

“Now, everyone gather around and let me show you this Math Ball...”

As the teacher drones on, you reflect on how dismally your day has gone thus far. Maybe those girls were right. Maybe you just weren’t meant to be popular.

Whoops. You tried to go to school but just walked back into your house instead. Go outside and try again.

Wow, that went terribly. You’re doing everything wrong. You’re going to need to do a lot better if you ever want to be the big man on campus.

“Wow, it’s clear that you don’t know anything about math. Math is basically like when a python swallows a human and you can see the shape of the human in its belly—except with numbers.”

The two girls in front of you keep looking back your way and whispering. Maybe they’re talking about how they think you’re cute? You really hope that this is what they’re talking about.

“Hey, Kevin,” one of them whispers. “You see us? The two girls who are looking at you right now? We are both popular. We have more friends than there are shining stars in the sky. And guess what? We could make you popular, too.”

“But it’s pretty weird that you’re 15 years old and you still don’t know what math is. It makes us think something’s wrong with you. We’re starting to think you’re not really cut out to be popular.”

“Quiet please!” the teacher shouts, cutting you off before you can defend yourself. “I still have more facts to tell you about math.”

Whoa. Stop right there.

Listen, this is just a game—just a pretend simulation on the internet. It’s not healthy for you to be having thoughts like this. Revenge is never the answer, okay? People will hurt you and make you feel small, but you’ve just got to rise above it. You can’t let your anger define you. Just let it go and you’ll be so much happier. We promise.

Now, why don’t you close your laptop, step outside for a while, and dwell on all of the positive things in your life? There is hope for you. There’s always hope. You’re capable of greater things than you’ll ever know.

Boy. Nothing seems to be going your way. And now it’s time for the one period of the day that can really make or break you socially: lunch. You know this is your big chance to make friends, but you’re realizing that maybe you don’t know how. You’re thinking you should get some advice.

“Excuse me, janitor,” you say. “I’m sorry to bug you, but I could really use some advice.”

“Sure thing, young man,” he replies. “Anything for the students. But there is a fee for my services.”

“Bring me a bottle of top-shelf cognac—something well-aged, with a smoky finish. Then smash the bottle on the ground in front of me. It’s nice having something fancy to mop up.”

“Sure, no problem. But if you pull a fast one on me, I’ll go crazy.”

You nod gravely.

“So, what kind of advice are you looking for?”

“Well, that’s easy,” he says. “If you want to be popular, just describe root beer out loud. Everybody likes root beer, and you just know they like hearing about it.”

“I’ve never told a joke in my life,” he tells you, his gaze unflinching. “Now then. Don’t you forget that cognac tomorrow, or I will hunt you.”

Here it is: the cafeteria. Time to go find some friends to sit with.

These girls seem friendly enough. But how should you approach them?

“Oh, hi, what a strange question,” the one nearest to you says. “No, sorry, no one at this table has died recently. But I imagine someone will in the next few weeks, if you want to check back at the end of the month.”

“Hi, I’m Kevin,” you say.

“Oh, hi, I’m Caroline,” says the one nearest to you. “Are you new here?”

You stand there in total silence for 10 or 15 seconds, completely unsure of what to say. In your determination to not overthink things, you’ve managed to not do any thinking at all, and now you’ve entirely forgotten how conversation works.

“Hi, guys, I’m Kevin,” you say, smiling. “Mind if I sit here?”

The three look at you with skeptical silence before turning away to confer amongst themselves. After a minute or two, one of them turns back to you to deliver the group’s consensus.

“Yeah, sure, you can sit with us,” he says as the others snicker. “But only if you can correctly guess all three of our favorite candy bars, along with each of our deepest, most psychologically crippling fears.”

Your odds are slim to none, but you shrug and decide to give it your best shot.

“Would you like to sit with us?” says the yellowish shape in front of you, unfazed by your total lapse of cognitive function. “We always have room for new friends.”

In your current state, you recognize that the yellow thing is making good words, but unfortunately you’re unable to piece together their meaning. You decide it’s best to just walk away so that you can regroup your brain and try your luck at the next table.

“Huh,” one of them says with a slightly confused expression. “You guessed all three exactly right. But you still can’t sit with us. Sorry.”

“Kevin, my great friend!” says a voice from a table behind you. “You can come sit at my table and share my lunch. I have lemons and an egg, the famous treat.”

Dammit, it’s Ormul again. This is the last thing you need right now.

Having successfully evaded Ormul, you decide to try your luck at one more table. You’re so desperate at this point that you’re not even looking for friendship—pity will do just fine.

The girls don’t say anything at all. They just keep staring at you vacantly. You repeat your question a little bit louder, but again, nothing. It then dawns on you that these aren’t high school students at all. They’re cardboard cutouts, advertising senior portraits at a local photography studio. And without even turning around, you can feel it: dozens of your peers staring in silent disbelief as the deranged transfer student begs cardboard to be his friend.

Welp.

With nothing left to lose, you climb up on top of a table and begin loudly describing root beer, just like the janitor recommended.

“Root beer is sweet and has bubbles,” you proclaim. “It is brown. It does not have alcohol like real beer does. It is for kids and adults alike.”

Everywhere you look, kids are standing in rapt attention, clinging to your every word.

“Keep talking about root beer!” someone shouts from the crowd.

You can’t believe it. This is actually working.

With that, the cafeteria erupts into a standing ovation. Everyone loves hearing about root beer so much. Your classmates all begin chanting your name.

”Kevin! Kevin! Kevin!” they shout in unison.

They carry you on their shoulders up and down every hallway of the school. Against all odds, you are now the most popular kid at Pike Central.

Sure, 4.9 billion years is a long time to stay curled up on the cafeteria floor, but eventually the sun arrives to release you from your misery. The fire consumes indiscriminately, devouring the popular and unpopular alike in one giant cosmic gulp. All are equal under the flames, and for once, you feel like you belong.

You drop out of school at the top of your game, and everyone from Pike Central gathers to cheer you on as you head out into the world. At just 15 years old, you have a whole lifetime ahead of you to achieve whatever you set your heart to. Who knows what’s next for you? Maybe you can become a doctor or a lawyer. Or maybe you can even be the president of the United States. The sky’s the limit for those who are young and popular.

Now that you’re the most popular kid in school, everyone at Pike Central is vying for your friendship. You’re going to need to choose a friend group, and two groups in particular catch your eye: the cool seniors and the bad kids.

These are the cool seniors. They are cool because they are older than most students and have lived through more Olympics.

For the first couple of hours you hang out with them, everything is great. You’re laughing together and pulling pranks and exploring each other’s young bodies. But just before sixth period, things take an unexpected turn. The cool seniors ask you to smoke pot with them—something you’ve never done. You don’t feel comfortable saying no, so you agree to smoke with them.

It turns out you actually like the pot a great deal. You make a mental note to smoke it constantly for the rest of your life.

“So, what do you think?” the cool senior in the yellow shirt asks. “Do you like the powerful taste?”

These are the bad kids. You’re impressed by their sour attitudes and how weird they look.

For the first couple of hours you hang out with them, everything is great. You are all laughing and piercing each other’s faces and spitting in recycling bins. But just before sixth period, things take an unexpected turn. The bad kids ask you to smoke pot with them—something you’ve never done. You don’t feel comfortable saying no, so you agree to smoke with them.

“Great, then here’s a different drug you can try that tastes even more powerful than pot,” she says before handing you a small pink pill. “It’s called OKB-9. It’s the same drug the Soviets gave the cosmonauts to simulate what life might be like in the moon’s underground goblin colonies.”

“It’s not for lightweights,” she continues. “But I trust that you can handle it.”

Hmm. You always wanted to be popular, but you didn’t know it would mean having to take so many powerful drugs during school. You really don’t want to take OKB-9, but you don’t want to lose the respect of your new friends. What should you do?

“Great, then here’s a different drug you can try that tastes even more powerful than pot,” she says before handing you a small pink pill. “It’s called OKB-9. It’s the same drug the Soviets gave the cosmonauts to simulate what life might be like in the moon’s underground goblin colonies.”

“It’s not for lightweights,” she continues. “But I trust that you can handle it.”

Hmm. You always wanted to be popular, but you didn’t know it would mean having to take so many powerful drugs during school. You really don’t want to take OKB-9, but you don’t want to lose the respect of your new friends, either. What should you do?

“Great, then here’s a different drug you can try that tastes even more powerful than pot,” she says before handing you a small pink pill. “It’s called OKB-9. It’s the same drug the Soviets gave the cosmonauts to simulate what life might be like in the moon’s underground goblin colonies.”

“It’s not for lightweights,” she continues. “But I trust that you can handle it.”

Hmm. You always wanted to be popular, but you didn’t know it would mean having to take so many powerful drugs during school. You really don’t want to take OKB-9, but you don’t want to lose the respect of your new friends, either. What should you do?

“Really, you’re chickening out?” she asks. “Wow. I thought you were cool, but apparently not if you won’t take a goblin-inducing psychedelic alkaloid from a 17-year-old you just met.”

She and the other cool seniors walk away, leaving you standing all alone, once again friendless. Word of your cowardice quickly spreads around the school, and within minutes, any goodwill you’d built up by talking about root beer is completely gone. It’s as if you were never popular at all.

“Really, you’re chickening out?” she asks. “Wow. I thought you were cool, but apparently not if you won’t take a goblin-inducing psychedelic alkaloid from a 15-year-old you just met.”

She and the other bad kids walk away, leaving you standing all alone, once again friendless. Word of your cowardice quickly spreads around the school, and within minutes, any goodwill you’d built up by talking about root beer is completely gone. It’s as if you were never popular at all.

You take the OKB-9, and within minutes your vision begins to blur. You feel a coldness spreading through every part of your bodyeven your ballsack. Suddenly, your jaw involuntarily snaps wide open and your lips curl back, as if your face is trying to turn itself inside out. Whatever is happening, you no longer have any control.

There comes a moment in every boy’s life when everything around him sprouts luminescent tendrils, and those tendrils then snake firmly around his appendages and yank him away to a spectacular realm of otherness that cannot be adequately described by any human language. You are currently experiencing that moment.

As you hurtle through the transcendental void, you become deeply worried that your wallet has fallen out somewhere along the space-time continuum, but you cannot pat your back pocket to check because you are unsure how to operate your hands, which now look and maneuver like Alaskan king crabs. Your voice is more or less identical to Donkey Kong’s when he is distressed, and you continually find yourself grunt-screaming at the spirits of Jordan-era NBA stars that keep gliding spookily near your face.

In the distance, Ormul appears in triplicate, and all three incarnations beckon you forth, making come-hither motions with their long forked tongues.

You approach the Ormuls and begin feeling an intense warmth radiating through your torso. Without any words being exchanged, it becomes immediately clear to you what is about to happen: The Ormuls are going to reveal to you the Three Inviolable Truths, and they will impart these Truths to you via open-mouth kisses.

The first Ormul comes over and hungrily mouth-kisses you, and you experience a flash of white-hot pain followed by the fluttery sensation of Ormul’s voice echoing in your head.

“Do not trust the little ornery pickup truck.”

The second Ormul comes forth and kisses you, imparting the second Inviolable Truth:

“Carl’s Jr. and Hardee’s are basically the same thing,” he says. “Don’t let it stress you out.”

Now, the third Ormul is before you. He kisses you with his supernaturally wet mouth and reveals the third Inviolable Truth:

“You can kill people in space because there aren’t any laws.”

Suddenly, it’s as if the universe’s rewind button has been hit, and everything around you begins rapidly reversing. The three Ormuls are yanked away by the vacuum suck of receding time, but you remain firmly entrenched in the present, as your arms and legs have stretched out like roots of a tree and embedded themselves into Now. Your voice starts leaping octaves, going higher and higher, until it’s like the anguished song of a million locusts being napalmed. You briefly become a herd of zebras. It’s all incredibly overwhelming.

After spinning your head for six consecutive millennia, you stop on a dime and find yourself suspended in a colorful expanse. In the distance, you see something approaching. As it gets closer, you realize that it is a tiny pickup truck. It looks cute, so you reach down to pet it. But as you do so, the words of the first Ormul flash excruciatingly through your mind.

“Do not trust the little ornery pickup truck.”

The tiny truck nips your hand, and it stings a great deal.

Even though you’re as small as a walnut, the tiny truck continues to pester you, so you retreat to a neighboring plane of existence. There, you find two fast food bags, one from Carl’s Jr. and one from Hardee’s. Before you can investigate them further, you feel an intense burning in your calf. You turn around to see the tiny truck, which has followed you and nipped you once again. This scares you, so you decide to hide in one of the fast food bags. But which one?

“Carl’s Jr. and Hardee’s are basically the same thing,” you remember the second Ormul saying. “Don’t let it stress you out.”

You are now inside the bag. The bag is completely empty except for an exquisite golden sword. It dawns on you that maybe you’re not supposed to hide in the bag at all. Maybe you’re supposed to seize the golden sword and fight the tiny truck. But would it be fair to fight the truck? It’s so tiny. Surely you could get in trouble for hurting something so tiny. Right?

Then you remember the words of the third Ormul: “You can kill people in space because there aren’t any laws.”

It’s decided then. You are going to slay the tiny truck.

You emerge from hiding and find the tiny truck just where you left it. It charges toward you, presumably with murderous intent, and you steel yourself for battle. You raise your mighty sword high in the air, then plunge it downward into the truck. It unleashes a hellish shriek of defeat, and you raise your fists in triumph. But then you hear a voice behind you:

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?!?”

The shouting has roused you from your hallucination, and you’re suddenly back at Pike Central. Principal Brandsen is beyond furious at you, and understandably so. In your enlightened state, it appears as if you managed to break into the teachers’ lounge and start some beef with the school’s mascot, a 16-year-old English bulldog named Tugboat. After being harmlessly nipped by the dog, you retreated to the corner of the room, where you found a fast food bag and a protractor. With the bag as your helmet and the protractor as your sword, you subdued ol’ Tugboat with a fierce stab to the rump, and now the poor boy’s gonna be sore for days.

So, uh, yeah. You stabbed a dog.

Your apologies do you no good. You get expelled from Pike Central, and rightfully so. Who stabs a dog? You’re terrible.

As you’re about to leave the school, you hear a voice behind you calling your name.

It’s your orientation buddy, Ormul.

“Hello, Kevin,” he says. “Even though you rejected Ormul earlier, and even though you are a coward who does not take goblin drugs, Ormul will still be your friend.”

“That is, as long as you are not still ashamed to be seen with Ormul,” he adds.

You take Ormul’s small, sticky hand, and the two of you walk away together. Who needs popularity as long as you’ve got one single friend you barely know?

Welp, that didn’t work. Time to go to class.


I am 18 or over and willing to view sexually explicit material