Survival Of The Fittest

((This is the aftermath of Nick Jones coming-out. This is about a week later in the locker room after Freshmen PE. This is rated for violence, language, and whatever else the disturbed minds of Nick's tormentors dream up. Mature themes. Excellent character development, but please don't read if you can't handle it. Thanks loves! Bonus points to anybody that caught the Blue October reference.))

He would never forget that day. It was raining. The plans for flag football had gotten changed in lieu of the weather. The wind and rain were too much, and the sky was too dark to play outside that day. So they stayed in the gym and played dodgeball. Nick was fairly certain that during the second game, Melvin Schuster had his nose broken by a particularly fast flying ball. Dodgeball games at Southridge were famous for mishaps. Mild injuries, screaming matches between players, and shattered egos were expected. Phone calls from pissed off parents were also expected, which is why dodgeball was always a last resort. They usually happened when their former teacher came in pretty burned from whatever it was that he did at night, and couldn't remember what the hell he had planned to do that day.

Never a dull moment at Southridge High, Nick thought, trying to keep from getting smacked in the face by a pair of balls. Double entendre aside, Nick was getting quite the work out. He managed to get a couple of alright throws, but dodging was more of his strong suit. He concentrated on not getting hit, and tossed the balls over towards his friend Khris, who was actually decent at sporty game things like that.

After what felt like half an eternity, the instructor blew his whistle and told them all to go shower and change. He waved at Khris and mentioned meeting her outside of the boys' locker room as they usually did. PE was their last class, and they did stuff together after school, either at one of their houses, or at a place in town. He was looking forward to it. He smiled as he walked off towards the locker room. Upon entering he shed his garments and wrapped a towel around his waist. He grabbed a bottle of body wash from his bag, along with a bottle of Paul Mitchell shampoo and conditioner. He made his way towards the showers and cleaned himself. He toweled off and dressed at a leisurely pace, sneaking discrete glances at a couple of the other boys as he did so.

The others all dressed a bit hap hazardously, and spent no time on their hair. Nick liked to look good. He dressed carefully and spent a decent amount of time styling his hair in front of the mirror he had attached to his gym locker. That had given them time to wait for everybody to file out. When Nick was finished with his hair that particular day, he heard something behind him. If he could have gone back in time, he would have told himself to run and never look back, but he made that mistake and saw a small group of rough looking boys leaning against the lockers and looking him over. It was at that point that he knew he was in trouble.

The typical rugged butch chick, Khris (who loathed being called by her given name of Krystal-- the rest of her name was masculine, why not her first name?) enjoyed the thrill of the infamous game of Southridge High Gym-Class Dodge-Ball, aka, Pain and Suffering.
She threw the ball hard at an opponent, hearing a sound crack that made her wince and take an extra half-beat to inspect the damage. Blood. Damnit, she hoped she hadn't broken anything.

"Sorry man!" She yelled, being a nice girl too, she honestly wasn't out to hurt anyone, she just had a particularly strong arm. And that got her some fear and some respect. But the guy stumbled as he waved it off, moving off the court to stem the blood flow. "Better go clean up that pretty face."
Khrist tried to make light of it, narrowing dodging another ball thrown her way and catching one tossed to her by a friend.

"Thanks." She took aim and fired a ball at a guy who was targeting a tiny girl on their team. The girl looked like a mouse, she was so small and frail looking. She imagined a ball thrown by a big guy like that would break her. "Heads up!" She yelled, grinning like mad.
She enjoyed the adrenaline of sports and working out, probably why she was the only girl on the club wrestling team.
Most people saw her as some butch dyke who was trying to be a man because she had penis envy or something. Far from it, she was just raised to be tough and she happened to be a lesbian. People didn't pay enough attention to realize that she had a very tender and caring soul and her personality was very ‘hopelessly romantic' and sweet.
She could just kick anyone of these guys' asses. And most people knew it and made little or no effort to hide it.

The whistle blew for the end of the game and people began scurrying (and many half limping) towards the locker rooms.
Her friend, the boy who threw her the balls during the game, waved to her to catch her attention and told her to meet him outside the guy's locker-room.
She threw him a characteristic grin and a pair of thumbs up, calling out a "no problem" but that was undoubtedly lost over the noise of the gymnasium.

When she got into the locker room many girls were undressing and changing with no regard to one another as any sort of threat, easily chatting, tending each other's wounds, and recounting some highpoints of the game. Namely how good though big football players looked getting all sweaty like that.
It was rather raunchy and distasteful in Khris's opinion, but she remained a slight hypocrite as she let her gaze brush over the back and front sides of some particularly attractive young ladies.
No one ever noticed, they all knew she was gay but they were all friendly with her and waved when they saw.

"Hey Khris!" some of the smarter ones yelled, whereas ‘Krystal' was heard a few times.
She gritted her teeth and smiled, "Good game, huh?" and slipped into a stall to change.
She was very self conscious about her body and refused to flaunt herself like those pretty skinny girls did. So she stripped in the stall and quickly rinsed in the adjacent shower. There was no need to smell like a man, she looked enough like one-- but… then again… she grinned as she sprayed herself once over with a can of Axe.
She didn't overdo it like some butches, or like some guys. She just liked the soft smell. Plus she'd forgotten her deodorant and didn't really feel like walking around all day smelling like arm-pit.

Cleaned, she dressed out of her gym uniform and into the day's wear; she'd decided that morning that she wanted to ‘dress to impress' and had selected from her dresser a pair of loose-fitting guy's black dress pants with a black button-up dress shirt (button holes on the left side) with a white wife-beater beneath it and silky black tie. She gelled her hair roughly and threw her uniform into the hamper for washing-- it was nasty what with the pit stains and all. Chubby girls sweat a lot. It was just a fact.