I'm sitting with Kirsten at a table in the cafeteria, early enough in the morning that the school is still pretty quiet. I wanna start some kinda communication, but I can't think of anything casual to say. Finally I just ask, "Where are you two gonna go?"

She doesn't answer.

"What, you think I'm gonna follow you?"

"Just don't worry about it, okay? You're making too big a deal over this."

"Well, are you going out tonight? At least tell me that."

She leans against her arm and turns away slightly, mumbling, "Tomorrow."

"Jesus christ, this is so fucking retarded... Do you have a phone or anything to bring with you?"

She sits up and looks at me sternly as she says, "For what? In case he tries to rape me?"

We watch each other for a moment and I break into a smile. "Sorry... If it came to that I'm sure you could out-wrestle him..."

"Goddamn right," she says, turning away again.

"But at least go get some pepper spray or something. One of those horns that deafens people. Or bring a baseball bat. I've got one at home."

"I've got pepper spray. But don't worry, I'll be fine." She stands up and says, "I gotta study for a test."

"Alright. I'll see you later."

She gives me a deadpan two-fingered salute as she walks away.

I cross my arms and sigh as Josie Warren takes a seat near me. "Why so grumpy, sunshine?" she asks, taking a makeup case from her purse that matches her pink dress.

I watch her as she takes a tube of lipstick and carefully runs it across her lips, watching herself in her tiny compact mirror. "Can't you do that in the bathroom?" I ask.

"The bathrooms here are no place for lipstick," she says, pressing her lips together.

"Why's that? Because it's where hundreds of girls go to take a shit?"

"Yes, exactly. Thank you for that. Very offensive."

"You wanna talk offensive, look at what you're wearing."

She glances down despite herself and says, "Feeling testy this morning, are we? You remember in seventh grade when you refused to wear a skirt during the christmas play? Only pants. You're not exactly an authority on fashion."

"Well look at you, you're wearing pink. What kind of watch is that?"

She looks at her wrist. "An eighty dollar one."

"It has blue straps and a green face. What are you, five years old? Do your socks have little pompoms on them too?"

She smirks at me and says, "Why don't you just tell me what's troubling you, sweety? When you're upset your propaganda gets a lot more overt."

I glance away and disinterestedly ask, "What propaganda is that?"

"If I recall, in eighth grade you gave a big speech about gender roles and the way that girls are raised differently than boys. It's been pretty clear where you're coming from for a pretty long time. Come to think about it, I'm shocked you haven't gotten a buzz-cut yet."

"All I was saying is that nobody's gonna respect you when you walk around wearing bracelets and eyeliner. There's no reason for us all to typify ourselves as girls. Just dress like a regular fucking person."

"And what's wrong with dressing like a girl?" she asks. "We are girls, in case you didn't notice. I don't remember you having any problem with dresses in elementary school. What happened, did your uncle molest you or something?"

"I wish," I mumble. "At least that would get you to shut up..."

"If you don't want guys to be aroused by you that's fine, but don't talk about the way I dress. This is what guys want, and I want guys to want me."

"Guys want bookbags the size of a postage stamp?"

"Guys want everything they can't have," she says, leaning closer to me as she stands up. "They want makeup, they want perfume, they want panties, they want high heels. That's what they see when they look at me, and that's what makes them hard. All they see when they look at you are softball games. Some chick trying to be one of the guys but who can never quite keep up. You could at least derive some empowerment from those massive tits instead of hiding them under a hundred layers."

"I love having these little chats. When I need some fashion advice on how to advertise that I'm giving out free blowjobs, I'll come see you."

She snorts a little and walks away. Man, I hate it when people do that. If I go to the trouble of insulting somebody they could at least get upset about it.

I see Kirsten again in gym class, but we don't say anything beyond a nod and a hello. The surprise is that the assembly me and Nishikado interrupted last week has been rescheduled for today, and a couple of the gym classes have been consolidated for a throw-away day of basketball. Almost like a deliberate kick in my nuts Nishi's class is paired up with ours, and they play a game just a few feet away.

Only through extreme focus can I keep my mind off of him.

Dribble the ball twice, then bend the knees and raise the ball over your head. Hold the ball on your palm and steady it with your other hand as you straighten your legs and jump. Extend the arm holding the ball and let it leave your hand. Don't throw it as much as try to drop it into the net from a distance. Remember that the ring of the net has a circumfirence twice as large as the ball.

The ball sails through the air and bounces against the back of the rim, then falls through the net. My team gives me a cheer as Kirsten watches from the bench, or rather doesn't watch, since her head is turned deliberately away from the court. I look over at Nishikado's class and see that instead of focusing on his game he's looking at Kirsten, but his glance soon shifts to me. My eyes dart to the supply closet I pushed him out of during the last assembly and he breaks contact, going back to his game. It's tough to tell, but I think he's blushing.

I sub out and take a seat on the opposite side of the bench from Kirsten, then start keeping my eye on Nishi. I think it throws him off, because he eventually misses a pass and the ball rolls into the hallway. He goes to get it and I slink off the bench to follow him without anyone from my class noticing.

He follows the ball down the hall and picks it up, and as soon as he turns around I swat it out of his hands. I give it a kick back into the gym and then look him in the eye. I notice that I'm about half an inch taller than him and say "Wow, for an asian guy, you're almost tall. Too bad that doesn't translate to your dick."

"Do you want something?" he asks, trying hard not to let his bitter look become too apparent.

"I see you didn't get suspended."

"And I see you're still a butch fucking whore. You wanna get out of my way?"

I don't move and he doesn't make any attempt to get around me. "I think we've got to have a little chat about Kirsten."

His face lightens and I see a glint in his eye. "Oh yeah, I guess you must be sorta pissed about that. Seeing as I asked her out before you did."

"You're just extorting her."

"I asked, she said yes. That's all there is to it."

"Fuck off," I say, stepping closer to him. "She's only doing this to stop you from throwing some kinda scene, since you're so embarrassed about everybody seeing your little penis."

His eyes turn hard, but at the same time his lips move into a smile. "I know you're curious, so when I see Kirsten's tits I'll let you know how they stack up to yours."

I grab his collar. "If you fucking touch her I'm gonna kill you. Understand, dick? You're fucking with something that's mine now, and if you do anything to make her-"

"Something that's yours?" he says, grabbing my hand and forcing it from his collar. "What the fuck is that? She never had a problem with us. It was you who was bombarding her with your fucking dyke-rays all the time. If you weren't around she would have gone out with me months ago. She doesn't want to sit around with you every night talking about how much men suck." He smirks with one side of his mouth and says "She's normal. She wants to suck men."

"Listen, you foul-mouthed fucking shit, you can't talk about her like that! She would never go out with you if she didn't think she had to. How can you be so fucking delusional? You're just a limp-dicked little fucking pervert! You can't even get a girlfriend without coercing one."

"Whatever," he says, walking past me. "Suck a cock, whore. This is all your fault anyway."

"It is not!"

He gives me the finger as he walks back into the gym, and I turn and go the other way. I've gotta change and get the fuck out of here. If I see him again I'm gonna kick the shit out of that fuck.