Oh, The Joys of Being "Popular"

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Oh, The Joys of Being "Popular"-Tucker


Spring in high school really only meant one thing: prom season.

Ever since the first day we returned from Christmas break, prom was all the senior class could talk about. Who was taking who, what girls were wearing the same dresses (gasp!), the houses in the Pocono's we were going to rent for the weekend after the dance, and so on. Prom was the only common ground among each and every student in the class. In a way, it served as something that brought people together. Even if you thought you were too cool to admit it (Axel and I) or if you were over the so-called "heinous popularity façade," (the females who fangirled over Korean Pop music and went to museums for fun) deep down, everyone was excited about prom. The only thing that truly had the potential to make prom a disaster was the prom court.

Thankfully, I was left out of the prom court drama that year because my girlfriend was a junior and therefore couldn't be nominated as my queen. Axel, however, fared quite differently.

By January, he had garnered the reputation of being the sexy, mysterious, star-soccer player and foreign boy who was damn good with his hands, on the field and off of it (a direct quote from at least three of the girls he's gotten with.)

Everyone felt one mutual emotion when they thought of my best friend, and that was jealousy. The straight guys wanted to be him, (Axel had made a name for himself in the male community for his famous "two fuck one Otto" scandal in which he pulled a freshman and senior in one night) the gay guys wanted to do him, and the girls he hadn't fucked wanted any piece of him they could get.

The only other thing every senior girl had in common, besides the bizarre craving for my best friend, was the innate, devout, unfathomable lust for the title of prom queen. And if one of them had any chance of achieving that dream, it was with Axel. And boy did he know it.

"I'm taking Jessica to the movies tonight," he was saying to me as we stood at our lockers, ready to go home for the day. I stood up straight and gave my best friend a look. He grinned wickedly back at me.

"You're disgusting," I told him honestly. This was his third "date" this week. Girls had been throwing themselves at him left and right as soon as they discovered that he was the secret ingredient in the prom queen magic formula, and it really wasn't doing good things for Ax's already inflated ego.

The shitty thing was, I was the scientist behind it all. I was the man responsible for single-handedly getting my best friend innumerable fucks that Spring, all because I mentioned something to this girl I sit next to in calculus.

Our conversation went a bit like this:


Girl: God, do you hear those girls?

The two bitches in front of us were talking about likely candidates for Queen. One of them suggested herself.

Me: laughs slightly. Yeah, right?

Girl: I wish prom didn't exist. We should just have a spring dance or something, that way everyone can have fun without the popularity contest.

Yeah, this was the type of girl I mentioned earlier. The one who listens to K-Pop.

Me: Nods head appreciatively, trying to be polite whilst desperately wanting to suggest she find a Korean dick to sit on.

Girl: I mean like, do they seriously think that the title of prom queen will make them better people? Will it help them in the long run?

Yes, this girl was seriously still talking. This is why I said what I said next.

As Told By Tuck & AxelWhere stories live. Discover now