Only Fools Fight With Fire

Jim is your typical awkward teenager who finds himself in way over his head.

I thought that I would try my hand at more of a light-hearted story again, seeing as its been about a year since I last wrote in this sort of style.

She was beautiful, dazzling, remarkable and various other adjectives. Essentially it was love at first sight, the type that is written in books and displayed upon silver screens. Unfortunately this was the feeling Jim got any time he saw any girl.

Average height, little muscle and with a damp greasy touch to his hair, he was the token young man destined for a miserable high school experience. He could usually be found walking the halls with his head down; a literal low profile to avoid his most vile classmates. He put in a good effort in class, not that the teachers recognized this as he sustained the unique qualities of a ghost — no one was ever aware of his existence until a routine pounding was due.

“Maybe you should ask her out?”

Jim originally ignored the statement, considering it not of his business as it was usually just shouting he was blessed with in these parts. That was until the rugged voice repeated itself, this time in Jim's more familiar manner.

“OI! SQUIRT! I said, maybe you should ask her out!”

Jim turned, his eyes wide like that of a deer in the headlights. He pointed to his chest whilst darting his sight left and right, visually clarifying that it was he who was being addressed.
“W...w...what are you talking about Brad?”

Brad, with the physique of a sportsman and the fuse of an illegal firework which contained his nasty ways, walked up to him, towering over his innocent fellow despite Jim being of normal height. “You were well checking out that bird yo,” the renowned bully continued. “Just ask her out or somin.”

Jim couldn't quite put his finger on it, was Brad generally taking an interest in his shambolic love life? Or did he have an ulterior motive in that hateful little mind of his? After spewing out various stuttered syllables in a anxious mess, Jim sought to discover. “What's it to you?”

“I just see you hanging bout this place, lonely as shit yeah? Thought you might just wanna act on your urges for once.”

Jim shrugged, “She's out of my league and you know it.”

“Nah man,” Brad rolled his hand across the spiky coverage of his brown hair, “I heard her talking to her lil friends bout you. Says she thinks you're kind of cute — fuck knows why.”

“Claire said that?” Jim responded whilst stroking his chin, home to his non-existent beard. “Well maybe I could try and... but I wouldn't know what to say... or do... or e-”

His trail of nonsense was interrupted however by Brad pushing Claire directly in to him before setting off down the neighboring staircase.

“Oh I'm so sorry!” Claire threw her hands up and backed away, examining Jim from head to toe and back again.

Feeling awkward in every sense, Jim repeated the apology despite both of them knowing all to well of Brad's contribution to the 'accident'.

“You look errr... nice.” Brad thought a compliment could break the ice nicely, expecting something of more smoothness and confidence to reveal itself from his seldom spoken mouth, though.

She really was a pretty girl. Jet black hair cascading down either side of her face and a tasteful body hosting complementary curves and delights. She began twisting strands of said hair between her fingers, presumably out of pure awkwardness. “Thank you,” she responded to his compliment with a hint of laughter. “It's Jim, right?”

“Yes!” Jim's face lit up and his reaction was about as smooth as Velcro. “You're Claire,” he pointed at her, literally pointed at her. “You're in my History class, we...”

“Yeah, yeah. We sit near to each other, how nice. Listen...” She placed her hands on her hips and gently rocked back and forth speaking with a confident and dominant tone. “Listen, you're cute. Ask me out.”

Jim hadn't prepared for this, I mean, who would wake up expecting to be asked to ask someone out twice in one day? This was completely off the ball and the girl of his dreams was seeming to be much the same. “I... umm.... are you sure?” He cringed inside and shouted at himself to just seal the deal with the impatient Claire looking on with whatever interest she had in him fading fast. “Go out with me? Thursday?”

Claire smiled and turned on her heel. Looking back at him she repeated, “Out with you, Thursday. It's a date.”

“Alright Jim... there's a big night ahead of you and there's one thing I'd just like to reiterate to you...” He stared sternly into his own eyes with his hands flat on the bathroom counter, hunched forward whilst giving himself a true team talk. “Don't fuck this up!”

Sprays upon sprays from a stack of bottles settled themselves upon his skin, hair and virtually his entire surface area. Jim was taking no chances tonight, he might not have been born with the best or most manly of appearances, but he had hope that it might come from a can.
And so, with a modest bouquet of flowers in one hand and his other pressed against his chest; controlling his heavy breathing in the midst of first date anxiety, he departed from his home.

He couldn't believe it, as he stared up at the ceiling fan whizzing around and around, he simply could not believe it. Everything had gone so wrong, at least he thought so anyway. The restaurant was cheap and most horrible. He couldn't drive and so rather awkwardly accepted a lift onwards with Claire, onwards to a breakdown which involved a long wait in the woods furthering the awkwardness and a stop off at a club where Jim's terrible dance moves were to be exhibited to the world. And yet here he was, in the early hours, butt naked in Claire’s room attempting to work a condom on to his positively bewildered dick.
She was just a wall's width away, 'fixing' herself up for him. This was it, the night of first kisses, first major contact and now his real first time. He turned to his hand and laughed, “Looks like I won't be needing you anymore. Well, once you help me put on this penis strangler, anyway.”

“I'm coming out!” Clare spoke seductively as one of her bare legs poked its way out of the door, stroking the frame in lust and desire. Jim positioned himself upright on her bed and folded his arms as if he was about to watch a movie. Then again, getting to witness breasts in person for the first time really was quite a momentous occasion for him. In fact h-

Jim couldn't believe it. This time, he really could not believe it. Shame, hate, embarrassment, these things all ran through him as he ran through the neighborhood; butt naked.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” He groaned, as he had been played — played like a triangle — with very little dignity. Set up by Brad to ask out a girl truly out of his league, led on and then overpowered and thrown out by the very same girl to face the cruel morning break in unfamiliar territory with only a very familiar skin to comfort him. Worst of all, Brad must have known how much tomorrow meant to him. It was to be the day that would complete an entire year of perfect attendance and he was to be rewarded appropriately by the Principal in the coming weeks for his consistency. He simply had to make it, he was at his lowest right now and needed to secure whatever pride possible. It was a case of making it to school before the masses joined him and hoping that he might be greeted by garments of the lost & found and a very understanding member of staff.

“Oh god, oh god, oh shit!” He resumed his panicking, how many people must have been opening their windows hoping to see the crack of dawn only to see the crack of his hairy arse?

He scuttled through a back enterance to the school and re-assumed his position of one hand over his front parts and the other covering the back. Shame had now fully turned to urgency as he despairingly looked through window to window for what he required.

“Boy!”

Jim looked back to find a teacher exiting a room, addressing him. It seemed all he had to do was strip to avoid his 'ghost' status. “Why are you-? What are you-? Just get in here!” She ushered towards her room and Jim tracked her course without second thought.

Turned out she was a drama teacher, Mrs. Hutton. She sat him down in a corner and wrapped a temporary rag around him for warmth. “So, care to tell me your story? Seems it could be an interesting one.” She licked her coffee stained lips and shuffled on her chair.

Jim proceeded to explain to her his agony and before long she was on the edge of her seat with her hands clutching his own in deepest sympathy.
“You know, I was much like you when I was younger,” She looked out of the room's one solemn window and reminisced. “Bullied, prank'd upon, miserable...”

Jim shrugged, “You don't know the half of it, sister.”

“Oh but I do! Do you know one year I was tied to the back of the school's mascot as it was set loose around the school. It was a pig. They used to call me Fat Betty Hutton, so I guess it sort of suited me.” The now vulnerable teacher gestured to her noticeable stomach.

“I'm sorry to hear that...”

“Oh please, at least I was clothed. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is being invisible to others isn't so bad."

“And why not?” Jim sighed, now shamelessly scratching his worse for wear groin.

“Because, you can use it to your advantage... for revenge!” Mrs. Hutton carefully arose from her seat and rolled over a rack of costumes and props.

Jim watched on both slightly confused as well as grateful at the sight of clothing. Although, to say they wasn't much to his tastes would be an understatement. “And how am I supposed to get revenge from no one really knowing who the hell I am?!” He raised an eyebrow.

Mrs. Hutton grinned and began shuffling through the wigs, fabrics, hats and make-up.

Brad put a hand on his long time girlfriend's shoulder. “I'm sorry, babe. But it's over.”

Claire gasped in disbelief. “But why?!”

“It's you babe. Not me. You. I've found someone way more hotter.”

Claire threw his hand away from her and crossed her arms in anger. “Well, who is it then?”

“She's in my drama class, so sexy!”

“Well what's her name then?!”

“Errrm... Jasmine or something... oh shit here she comes now!”

She had legs right the way up, emphasized by her current summer dress and with dark blonde hair pushed back her hooped earrings were free to sparkle and shine as she walked on by.

“Hey babe,” Brad wrapped the new girl in his arms and pushed his lips against hers making Claire green with envy. As if knowing that he made a better looking girl than her wasn't good enough for Jim; seeing her this disgruntled about it made it all the more sweeter. Not quite as sweet as the heartbreak he had in stall for Brad though, once he got the cocky S.O.B. to love Jasmine for more than just her looks, but still a delightful treat for his eyes — now cascaded with liner and color.

“And the award for highest attendance goes to Jim Howard!” The Principle announced.

Jim raised himself from his seat with utter pride in his heart, welcomed by a weak and perhaps a little sarcastic round of applause from his peers.

… with 99% attendance!” The Principle continued.

'99%? No, that can't be right...' Jim thought to himself, recounting every day and lesson he had attended on time, whilst collecting his rusty trophy.

The principle showed Jim to a seat to the right of the stage and moved on to the next acceptance; “And now for more of a less prestigious award... perhaps, more of a joke award if anything... The student with the lowest attendance! And this goes to...”

Jim continued to rattle his brain, thinking of what could have marked down his perfect attendance whilst the Principle wrestled with the envelope holding the name of the lesser student.

“... Jasmine Howard! With 1%.”

Jim turned to his left in shock and all became clear; he never quite attended that all important Friday in the end, not as himself anyway.

The Principle looked around the flock of students looking for the underachiever before turning to face the gob-smacked Jim. “Jim, where is your sister?! I know it's not the least bit ironic her not being here looking at these figures but-”

“I think she's out back, I'll go look for her!” Jim smiled at Mrs. Hutton in the corner of the auditorium as he made his way to the drama department.

'Who knows?' He thought to himself. 'Maybe Jasmine will get the higher attendance next year?'