Survival Of The Fittest

(WARNING LANGUAGE kay? Okay.)

((Jimmy Brennan continued from 5 Minutes for Sucker Punching))

Jimmy wrinkled his nose as he strolled into the library, his massive English binder crammed with notes firmly held under his right shoulder. He hated libraries, he hated silence, and he especially hated essay writing. His lunch period looked like it would have all this in spades and it made him feel like punching something. Jimmy was sick to his stomach of writing essays, the endless formalities, the constant annoyance of citing sources and referencing old books no one cared about. And there was no arguing that last point. The books his epic level bitch of a teacher had forced him to read were so ancient he was sure some of the LETTERS didn't even exist anymore. This was the kind of stuff Jimmy figured stingy English Majors would wade into, not High School students. What in the fuck was an Aeneid anyways? Jimmy didn't know, and he didn't exactly care.

Jimmy walked through the library, biting his lip as he past a table of Jocks thumbing through "Death of a Salesman". He clenched his binder tight and kept his gaze locked towards the shelves as he went by, pretending he didn't notice they were there. He wasn't exactly sure he knew them, but the odds were he had gotten to know some of their friends fists quite intimately over the course of his schooling at Bayview Secondary.

One of the girls at the table laughed and Jimmy turned, he wasn't certain but it could have been about him. Perhaps one of them had noticed his brown gloves, a bizarre fashion statement considering it was only a few days until the start of summer break. His brow furrowed in annoyance and he jerked his head back around. Maybe they weren't laughing at him. Maybe. He slid into a seat with a view of the group and casually looked up. One of the girls was looking at him. Or something behind him. Probably him. He slammed his binder down onto the desk and began to unzip it.

Fucking people. All of them are too afraid to do anything different; to get called out by the rest of the pack. Not like me, not like me at all. I make my own rules. That's why it's how it is now. That's why I'm doing this fucking essay all alone in this fucking library.

At one point in time, Jimmy would have felt necessary to tell the gawking girl to take her eyes off him. But that was before, when things were different, now… now… well to be completely honest, Jimmy didn't know what exactly to do. He avoided her gaze as best he could. He could almost hear them discussing him, laughing at him, ‘Check out that weakass Brennan' they would say.

His cheeks began to burn red. He could hear his guidance counselor's words ringing in his ears; he could hear Phillip Ward's voice clear as it was that day, long ago at the rink.

‘One more fight Jimmy, one more and you're in deep trouble.'

‘THINK FAST BRENNAN, YOU LIMP DICK RANGA'

What the hell was everyone's problem with him? Jimmy had earned quite a reputation around the school. He would have taken pride in it in any other case...

Weakass. Crybaby. Snitch. It went on and on.

What the hell was that? Jimmy knew what he was deep down, and deep down he was none of those things. He was hardcore deep down. Hardcore right to his balls. But somehow, he didn't know how, he had been branded with this reputation and he'd been enduring a slow painful death ever since. Snickering, name calling, even worse then there was before. Before he could take it, before he could shrug it off. Now it assailed him, in the halls, in the cafeteria, even in the fucking library. Someone was always staring, wondering "I wonder if he'll snap now? I wonder who'll break his face? I wonder who'll make Baby Brennan cry?" The last time a kid had called him Baby Brennan, he'd punched him in the balls. He needed 6 stitches.

What could he really do? He needed to graduate; he couldn't afford to get kicked out. His parents would kill him. So he endured every day and prayed for some form of respect to finally kick into the pathetic mob of jackasses he called his peers. Eventually he stopped praying, he realized God was probably just as big a douchebag as the jocks who frequented Bayview Secondary.

I'm wasting my time. This essay, THIS fucking essay…

Jimmy looked down at the paper. 1000 words on Holden Caufield and how he represented teenage angst. Head to desk.

Jimmy liked Catcher in the Rye. He wasn't a book guy; he wasn't a big art guy in general. His own work stayed hidden in the depths of his room, unseen, unmentioned, and incredibly underappreciated. He liked simple plots, without too much over thinking or symbolism. But Catcher was a pretty good book and he was rather happy his teacher had chosen it. It was miles better then that droll piece of shit Aeneid thing she had them read anyway.

And unlike everyone in the class, Jimmy liked Holden. He knew what the score was. Holden knew people were fake, and he knew they were insufferable jerks. In a lot of ways, Jimmy felt he could have been swapped with Holden and no one would have been the wiser. As corny as it was, Jimmy connected with him. Something irked him though and forced him to put the book down several times. Holden was a passive little faggot. He was so passive it nearly made Jimmy want to tear his reddish hair out in rage and chuck the book up against the wall. Jimmy just didn't understand why he didn't punch some of the people he met in the face and tell them to fuck off an' have a nice day. He didn't think he would ever understand, and that certainly wasn't helping his essay any.

The minutes ticked by as Jimmy skimmed the book, trying to find "Quotable Passages". He felt lonely, incredibly lonely. Irrationally, Jimmy wished that some of those jock kids would come over and sit with him. He looked up and noticed they had dispersed, he frowned in displeasure.

"Well they missed out…" He murmured to himself, barely intelligible. His voice cracked slightly.

((Samaya continued from Dear Agony, Love Hatred ))

Samaya jumped and looked up from her science notebook. She had a final exam tomorrow and she really needed to study. She looked around to find that Jimmy Brennan had found his way to the other end of her table. He didn't seem to notice that she was here, as he glanced to look at the other table, his face turning red. Well, that's weird. Samaya thought. I wonder what's going on there. She continued to watch him unnoticed; he appeared to be totally lost in thought.

As he pulled out a book and she thought about what she knew about him. He had a tendency to fly off the handle at any little thing. The jocks and in-crowd called taken to calling him a crybaby after that fight at hockey tryouts. Samaya'd never learned all the details, choir and sports didn't mix all the much. Technically, Jimmy wasn't even on a sport team. Not that there were many sports open to someone of their heights. Jimmy was maybe an inch taller than her, which was unusual at Bayview. Samaya was used to living in the land of the giants. Of course Samaya had the advantage of the platform sandals she wore with her black knee length camo-print skirt, and green v-neck shirt. She loved the end of the school year, no one worried much about dress code, especially from graduating seniors.

"Well they missed out…" He murmured to himself, barely intelligible. His voice cracked slightly.

Samaya flinched again afraid that he'd caught her staring, but on further inspection it seemed he was still buried in his book.

"I'm sorry did you say something," she said keeping her tone low. She tucked an errant stand of her short blond hair behind her ear, waiting cautiously for his response.

It would seem rather strange, Jacob Charles being in a library. With the stigma associated with his standing, being that kinda "white trash" and all, it would seem very peculiar for anyone to actually notice him in a place with books. But yes, it was true. Jacob Charles was in the school library, away from most of the students already in here, waiting for Paige to make it for the study session she had promised with him. Most of the time they just made out a lot, their lovely noises muffled by twisting shelves and mountains of books, but since it was getting close to exams, it was game time for Paige. It was all for her, naturally. She was athletic, and got her way. He was...below average, and had much difficulty understanding essay questions as he would have trying to fit a Jeep engine onto a pushbike. So he needed to help her with the exams, in the offchance, the wild offchance that stood in his mind...that she would say no when the time came.

While his eyes flickered through the paper he was reading (he had to carry one around just to stop himself looking ultimately stupid) he resisted the urge to flick to the comics. For about 10 seconds. Papers shuffled, and then he was reading Garfield.
Haha, that greedy cat...
Hearing a small discussion going on somewhere in the library, Jacob peered out from behind his paper and throught the convenient gap formed by missing books. Located at one of the tables sat two people. One of them was Samaya, that blonde choir girl. The other...was Jimmy Brennan.

The sides of Jacob's mouth flew up slightly when he saw the well-known crybaby trying to read something. Yeah, like that was going to work.
Trying to read, Crybaby? That's for people with brains.

Jacob knew the irony and hypocrisy in the thoughts he was thinking. He himself was as dumb as a post and knew that well. But....c'mon, he was just so easy. He knew he had some sort of rep, that Jacob knew from Paige's unloading onto him about everything that happened around the school ever. Most of the time with Amber spraying in info as well, whether he wanted it or not. She herself wanted to write several articles about him (but Amber lacked that power, sadly for her...), and most of his other friends knew a lot more about him as well. Philip Ward. The hockey tryouts. The fighting that happened. Who couldn't know?

Not wanting to start anything unnessesary, Jacob got that little bit closer to the table, and listened behind the nearest bookshelf. Maybe he would start something again, who knew? And then if Paige didn't come, he had something that would endear himself to her just that little bit more. Jacob grimaced at what she was turning him into, but he knew it was all for the best. All for her.

"I'm sorry did you say something?"

Jimmy panicked for a second before glancing up towards the blonde haired girl sitting at the opposite end of the table. His eyes flickered back and forth, had she heard him talking? No, she couldn't have, at least he hoped not. Jimmy already had a terrible reputation from all the fights... he didn't need people calling him a nutjob too. The silence after her question dragged on and Jimmy finally launched into a staggered reply.

"Uh, sorry what? Me? No uh, fuck, I didn't say anything. No, that wasn't me." He glanced back down towards his blank paper.

Salinger will be the death of me... Shit, I hope that girl doesn't know who I am.

As the meaning of his last thought struck him fully, Jimmy couldn't help but feel depressed. At one time he wanted everyone to know who he was, now more often then not he wished people would forget who he was. What was that called? Irony? It was called Irony, he was pretty sure.

Pretty god damn irony...

Jimmy coughed and brought his pen to his paper, pretending to write down something important.

"Uh, sorry what? Me? No uh, fuck, I didn't say anything. No, that wasn't me," He glanced back down towards his paper.

Samaya's eyes widened at his stuttered response. What was the big deal? She shrugged as he suddenly found the paper before him interesting. He was busy scribbling across the page. Well, so much for small talk.

"Okay, if you're sure? I was just checking you didn't need anything," she said quietly. She went back to looking for the answer in her science notebook. Jeez, no wonder nobody hangs around with him. What an attitude! All I was doing was being polite.

((Post order temp changed with Inky's permission))

"Okay, if you're sure? I was just checking you didn't need anything," The girl said.

Jimmy suddenly felt guilty. Here he was bitching about being alone and at the same time denying some legit human contact.

Looks like I have more in common with Holden then I thought.. Shit, this isn't you. Man up Jimmy! Just because they think you're a fuckwad doesn't MEAN you're a fuckwad!

Jimmy coughed and shifted over again. He threw his pencil down and it bounced off the desk, less subtle then he'd hoped but that didn't matter. The girl was busy looking in a science book. Jimmy wondered how he'd find out her name.

"Shit, no, it's fine. See, it's just this essay. Fuckin' Catcher in the Rye. What a dumb book, eh?"

He hoped she wasn't some book crazy girl, he didn't want his first conversation of the day to end awkwardly. He gave a slight laugh and waited to see if she'd keep the conversation going.

Samaya looked up as Jimmy addressed her again. She set her pencil at the top of her notebook and gave him her full attention.

"I know what you mean, I was so happy when we finally took that test. I thought I was the only one, like maybe somehow I didn't get it," she said her eyes widening at the confession. She didn't usually like to confess to her classmates that she didn't understand something.

She offered him a shy half-smile and said, "What's the essay on?"

Jimmy had the inexplainable feeling that this girl was fucking with him.

How was it possible she didn't know him? Bayview was a mixed up place but even still, Jimmy Brennan wasn't a nobody. Everyone knew Jimmy Brennan. Or rather, "The Crybaby". He felt his cheeks flush in annoyance. She had to be playing some sort of prank on him, it was the only rational conclusion. Why else would someone try to start a conversation with Jimmy? Bayview Secondary was filled with three types of people, pricks, their followers, and Jimmy Brennan.

Her question caught him off guard and he snapped back to reality.

"Oh, what's it on..?" He snatched a crumpled piece of paper off the desk and read out his essay topic again.

"It's like, about Holden. I gotta describe how he represents Teenage Angst or some shit. Like, what the fuck right? Could it be any more absolutely fuckin' stupid?"

He smacked his copy of Catcher in the Rye for emphasis.

"Yeah... It's a fuckin' weird book. I'm surprised anyone would like it. Only people I can picture reading this for fun would be like, emos' or something." He laughed slightly to himself.

"Yeah, so I'm pretty much strapped for ideas... I'd rather blow my brains out then write 1000 words on this bullshit. Oh, fuck, uh, so what's your name anyway?" He said.

It seemed like a weird way to ask the question, but Jimmy figured he'd best find out now rather than later.

(Jonathan Jarocki continued from somewhere)

Jonathan stretched as he walked into the library, looking for somewhere nice and quiet to sit down read his latest book. He continued toward the back, passing the front desk where Mrs. Collins the library was helping some clueless freshman, until he got near the tables when he heard voices. Jonathan's gaze harder as he swore quietly to himself, last thing he needed was more people to bother him and be annoying twats. Jonathan had no idea what twat meant but he was pretty sure it fit this situation. Turning the corner he saw the source of the voices and already he hated them even more, while the girl he only knew in passing, and that was the extent of how he knew her, the boy was already infamous even among Jonathan's circles as "the Crybaby" Thinking over it for a few seconds Jonathan walked forward as the boy spoke.

"Yeah... It's a fuckin' weird book. I'm surprised anyone would like it. Only people I can picture reading this for fun would be like, emos' or something."

"What is?" Jonathan asked as he made his appearance known, leaning against a nearby bookshelf as he peered at the duo over his glasses

(Sorry for the wait guys. I place the blame firmly where it belongs. With the cable company.)

Samaya listened intently as Jimmy half-assed his way through the explanation of his assignment, which she wasn't sure she completely understood. He, as a teenager was supposed to be writing about teen angst. She probably wasn't going to be of much help to him, she was trying so hard to collect ideas she almost missed his question. She rolled her eyes at the fact that it was the end of senior year and she still was introducing herself to people. Of course she should probably count herself lucky she didn't have his kind of reputation.

Speaking of reputations, she thought as another boy rounded the corner. She'd done little more than pass him in the hallway, where he seemed to put off a "leave me the hell alone" vibe. Samaya had heeded his wishes. She had enough acquaintances and didn't need to try to make friends with a loner who literally loomed over her, much like he was doing now. Congratulations, you've won the role of creepy extra number 3.

"What is?" Jonathan asked peering at her over his glasses

Samaya swallowed before answering simply. "Catcher in the Rye." Having answered his question she turned back towards Jimmy. "I'm Samaya, Samaya Hilstrand."

Jonathan nodded as he gave a shrug. "Ah, you still doing that project, I just put some bullshit down about how Holden is a metaphor for teenagers and shit like that" actually Jon agreed with Holden 110%, most of the world was "phony". Jon sighed as he went by. "Excuse me, got to get through" he said as he made a beeline for one of the empty tables far away

(Jonathan continued elsewhere)

"What is?" said a voice from behind Jimmy.

His face crumpled in on itself, and he turned around looking in disgust at the boy who'd interrupted his conversation.

Jonathan Jarocki. A face not even a Mother could love.

To say that Jimmy was a lonely guy was an understatement. However, there were a few people he didn't even want to associate with. Johnathan Jarocki was one of them. The kid hadn't done anything outright against him, but Jimmy knew the truth. The bastard was friends with a few kids who had a tendency to harass Jimmy. He gritted his teeth as he spoke, barely able to hide his disgust.

Guilt by association, you friggin' fuckhead...

"Hello Jonathan." He said curtly. He waved the book at him, and rolled his eyes. "What does it look like? Hm?"

Jimmy spun back in his chair. This was harassment, plain and simple. Why would Jonathan bother to talk to him, if not to insult him, call him a crybaby?

What an asshole. I'm twice the man this kid ever was. You cry once, ONCE in front of a bunch of teenagers and they never let you forget it...

More than once. But STILL. Friggin' assholes.

"I'm Samaya, Samaya Hilstrand."

Jimmy's attention swung back around to the girl. He tried to smile at her, but the transition from annoyance to happiness was an awkward one.

Is SHE messing with me? I hope she isn't messing with me. Play it cool Jimmy, play it cool. Maybe she digs you. Yeaaaahhh that'd be cool.

"Oh, fuck, that's a nice name." He gave a hesitant laugh and smiled.

"My name's Jimmy. Jimmy Brennan. You might've heard of me."

Although I hope not...

Samaya stared after Jonathan. "What was that all about? That was so not helpful," she muttered mostly to herself. She watched him find another table and shook her head, before turning back to Jimmy.

"Oh, fuck, that's a nice name." He gave a hesitant laugh and smiled. "My name's Jimmy. Jimmy Brennan. You might've heard of me."

"Thanks. Most people have a hard time with it," she said brightly, then paused. It was kind of a stupid statement that she'd heard of him. Anyone who hadn't head their heads buried under a rock had heard about Jimmy Brennan. That was kind of the result of messing up so spectacularly. Not that she really wanted to tell him that. Oh yeah, you're the guy that like super failed to make the hockey team. Didn't seem like the nicest way to continue the conversation.

"Yeah, I've seen you around," she finally decided on. Although it still sounded lame to her ears, especially since what she was thinking was he'd been pointed out to her.

"Yeah, I've seen you around."

Jimmy's chest swelled with pride. He straighted his back and grinned at the girl.

"Yeah, I get that a lot.." He said as casually as he could manage. He leaned back in the chair, trying to emulate the classic bad-ass look he'd seen in so many movies.

Okay, this is good. This is very good. She KNOWS me, but, well, she doesn't seem to "know" me. That's actually, wow. That's actually the best thing possible! I got tha' rep, but she don't know where it's from... least I think. Maybe she isn't fucking with me? Maybe she.. yeah, she couldn't be fucking with me. That's just paranoia. No, no. She's not like the others. She doesn't think I'm a pussy, no no no.

Because I'm not. I'm not.

"Yeah, uh..." Jimmy began, before pausing. He leaned back in his chair, mouth slightly a gap. His eyes flickered about the room and he could feel his face growing flushed. He cleared his throat but still, nothing.

"Uhm."

Holy fuck this is so sad...

Jimmy had spent most of the last year avoiding human contact, and regretting it when it occurred. Jimmy could count the times he'd stopped to talk to a fellow student in the hall on one hand. The simple fact of the matter was that Jimmy didn't know what Teenagers liked. And he certain as -holy fuck- didn't know how to hold a conversation.

The Bayview bell wasn't particularly loud, but to Jimmy, lost in his own world, it was the biggest surprise he'd gotten in a long time. As the shrill bell rang signaling the end of the period, Jimmy pitched backwards in his chair. He let out a yelp of surprise as his head smacked against the floor. Legs flailing, face red with embarrassment, Jimmy cursed as he tried to right himself.

"Fuck! Fuckin' chairs! God-dammit! Sorry!"

Finally managing to right himself, Jimmy began to hazardously throw his things in his backpack. He noted with annoyance that his essay had no more lines than earlier. He frowned in disgust.

Oh for the love of...

He zipped up his bag and looked back sheepishly to gaze at Samya. He could feel his heart sink deep in his chest as he realized how foolish he must have looked flailing about on the floor.

Nice one Jimmy. Way to fuck it up.

"Er, hey, fuck, yeah. Class is over. Sorry." He threw his backpack over his shoulder and started to head for the door. After a few steps he grinded to a stop and spun to look at Samya.

"Eh.... I'll see you around I guess. Hopefully. Bye."

Jimmy turned and exited the library, lost in his thoughts.

God dammit Jimmy, just- god dammit. She'll tell everyone she knows about that, you know she will. Because people are like that, people do these things... God dammit, she didn't seem like that. I hope it's not like that...

Why does everyone suck but me?

((Jimmy Brennan continues in Woods of Paranoia

Samaya watched in disbelief and amazement as Jimmy started a conversation, tripped over a chair, and then mumbled through a good-bye. She watched him go and then looked around for whoever it was he seemed to be afraid of. She was a little offended, she'd never had someone in such a hurry to get out of her presence before. But then he'd apologized and had hoped to see her around again. She tapped her pencil absently on her notebook and stared after Jimmy long after he'd made his way out of the library.

He really is a weird guy, she decided finally. Shaking her head at her encounter with Jimmy Brennan she gathered her belongings and headed out to her own class.

((Samaya continued in Random Spawns are a Bitch ))