𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 [a rini au]

SEVEN

          Ricky felt horrible that he could only liken the whimsical Big Red to a parasite, but his rationale was that anyone in his shoes would have felt the same. He lost the ginger for a bit during the half hour of refreshments that followed orientation. Ricky only hovered around to snag a chocolate chip cookie because he hadn't eaten all day, but he kept to himself while watching transfers mingle and introduce themselves to Dr. Mazzara, Dr. Jennifer, and other adults roaming the premises. After a few minutes of people watching, Ricky decided to slip out and head back to Stoneham. However, just as he dipped from the gymnasium, his new "friend" was not far behind.

Big Red chewed Ricky's ear off. Lucky for the brunette, the redhead also lived in Stoneham, ironically on the second floor. During their short walk from the gym to Stoneham, Ricky learned that Big Red was a transfer from Phoenix, Arizona, and he ended up at East Highland as a punishment. "My parents thought this place would cure my dumbassery," he had told Ricky, the curly headed boy unable to fathom that Big Red didn't see anything wrong with the grammatical accuracy of that sentence. Back in Phoenix, his family owned a critically-acclaimed pizza shop, and he once won a hotdog eating contest. All Ricky revealed to Big Red was that he was a Salt Lake City native.

          Ricky didn't know how to say no when Big Red offered up his room for the two to hang out for a bit. Big Red perceived Ricky's lack of response as agreement, so when they reached the second floor, he practically shoved Ricky into his room. Ricky was overwhelmed by the mess, duffels thrown in various directions and a McDonald's bag discarded on the floor. "This is the cleanest it'll be, so soak it all up!" Big Red said with full sincerity, Ricky biting his lip as he kicked the empty paper bag to the side.

          "So," Big Red began with a lip smack, choosing to sit on his bed. He gestured towards his desk chair for Ricky to have a seat, so the boy hesitantly took it. "Have you taken a look at your schedule?"

          Swallowing in thought, Ricky nodded. "Um, yeah. I don't have the days memorized or anything, but I'm in AP Lit, AP Bio, Creative Writing, AP Calc, and AP Micro."

          Big Red's eyes fell out of their sockets. "Shit, dude. You're voluntarily doing that to yourself?"

          Ricky was always in the hardest classes. School came easy to him, so he never saw anything wrong with a heavy academic schedule. He didn't play any sports, he wasn't a part of many clubs. He had all the time in the world to do homework and study, as well as continue his leisure reading and therapeutically write music. "What are you taking?" Ricky self-consciously removed the attention from himself.

          "All the easy ones," Big Red leaned back against the wall. "Pretty sure Pre-Calc and Environmental Science are in there somewhere. Oh! Finance, too. Apparently spending money on Fortnite skins isn't a 'wise investment,'" he looked disgusted as he held up air quotes. "We probably won't have anything together."

          Despite his subconscious slandering of the kid, Big Red's prediction made Ricky's shoulders slump. Regardless of how long they had known each other, Big Red was at least a start to familiarity in this foreign place. Now, Ricky feared he was back to square one. "At least you might be with some of those geniuses that spoke at orientation today. Actually, that's a guarantee."

Ricky's eyebrows rose. Suddenly, he remembered Big Red's comment at orientation, the one that he wouldn't answer. "Hey, uh," Ricky treaded lightly, unsure if a second inquiry would get Big Red to confess, "what did you mean earlier about those kids and all? You know, that it was bullshit?"

          Big Red snorted, puzzling Ricky further. "It all seems too good to be true," he admitted, crossing his arms. "Those guys were like the textbook definition of Valedictorian, each and every one of them. There aren't people that perfect in the world."

          Ricky pressed his lips together. "Well, if they aren't 'perfect,' why do you say they'll be in the smart classes with me?"

          "Well, smart doesn't mean perfect, but there are two possibilities," Red shot back. "They're super smart, or I'm just wrong and they'll be in the dumb classes with me. But, I don't think a school like this would put their stupid kids on a pedestal, so the former it is."

          Ricky's heart slowed, the organ on the verge of breaking after hearing Big Red's perception of himself. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Ricky knew there was some truth in his reasoning. "You're not stupid."

          Big Red dismissively waved. "Oh, please, don't flatter me," he chuckled. "All I'm saying is that the perfect, popular kid cliché is far from real. Their coiffed hair, flawless skin, and stellar resumes are only what's on the surface."

          Ricky couldn't believe that Big Red had such confident speculations about kids they hadn't even truly met. He had no time to probe him with more questions, for Big Red's brain was already running to the next random topic of discussion. It was like the conspiracy theory meant nothing to him. Ricky wondered, as Big Red showed him his Star Wars Xbox controllers, that maybe it was supposed to mean nothing.