Just a Dumb Surfer Dude

by Chase Connor

  “Oh.”

  This changed what I would have to tell Alex. And that meant he would continue to bother me to find out more about Logan. Oh, well. I was going to be sitting next to him for months anyway.

  “Yeah.” Logan looked more embarrassed than before. “And AP was the only one with a roster that wasn’t full when I enrolled.”

  “Then…let’s get you up to speed, my good man.” I stated cheerfully. “What parts didn’t you understand?”

  Logan laughed nervously.

  “Wanna start at the beginning?”

  “Pleeeeease?” Logan looked up hopefully.

  “Not a problem.” I smiled and nudged him in the arm with my elbow. “Okay. First, rip your notes out. I’ll help you organize and write down better ones.”

  Logan ripped the page out of his notebook gleefully, wadded it up, and deposited it in the trashcan beside the table. For the next twenty minutes, we went over Calorimetry and I explained the ins and outs the best that I could to him. I tried to go slow, but I knew that we didn’t have a lot of time, so I did my best to condense the basics so that he could easily grasp them. Within the last few minutes of class, I could tell that there was a light at the end of the tunnel and Logan was starting to grasp the concepts discussed.

  When the bell rang at the end of class, Logan and I put our things in our bags and slung them over our shoulders as we slid off of our stools. I gave the table a cursory wipe down with one of the paper towels provided at each table, just so Dr. Sanders wouldn’t give me a lecture at the beginning of the next class. Logan waited for me and followed me to the door, obviously having no one else to attach himself to, especially since we were the only seniors in a class full of sophomores.

  “Who do you have next?” I asked as we entered the hallway together.

  “Um,” Logan pulled his schedule out of his pocket, “Uh, Mr. Wise..Wiseman?”

  “Weissman. Comparative Lit.” I nodded. “It’s German. Well, he’s not German, but the name has German roots.”

  “Wow.” Logan turned to me with a beaming smile. “You know a lot of sh…stuff.”

  “Well, he’s my dad.” I shrugged.

  “Oh!” Logan laughed, then had a thought. “Your dad teaches here? That’s way cool. Does he give you A’s just for the hell of it?”

  “I’ve never been allowed to take his class.” I laughed. “But he gives me B’s at home, mostly. He doesn’t like my theories about a lot of the books he assigns to his students. My thoughts on Moby Dick made him lock himself in his bedroom for two hours once.”

  Logan laughed loudly as we walked down the hall.

  “I’ve got AP Spanish Language next, but I can show you where his class is if you want.” I suggested.

  “Fuck yeah.” Logan groaned, then realized what he’d said. “Sorry. I’m just stressed today.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I shrugged. “Just don’t let Mr. Freeslay hear you swear. He’s old school.”

  Logan nodded, taking in everything I was saying as though I was his new Sherpa at Dextrus Academy.

  “You sure it won’t get you in trouble with your teacher if you’re late?” Logan asked. “I don’t want to get anyone else in trouble today. I’ve already been almost late to my first two classes today.”

  “Well, you won’t be late to this one, sir.” I patted him on the back and shoved him towards the next door we encountered.

  My father, Mr. Weissman, was standing at the front of the class, smiling and greeting students as they entered the room. I shoved Logan into the room and up to my dad. My father looked at me quizzically as I pushed this unfamiliar student up to his lectern.

  “Fresh meat, Mr. Wiseman.” Logan groaned comically beside me. “This is Logan Marshall. He’s new.”

  “I see that.” Dad looked at me with a cocked eyebrow as freshmen filed into the classroom and found their seats. “And why aren’t you in Spanish, Holden?”

  Logan looked at me, wondering if Dr. Sanders and I had lied about my name really being Cooper.

  “Well, Mr. Weissman, I thought I’d keep the new guy from being late for the third time today.” I shrugged grandly. “Jeez, try to do the faculty a favor.”

  My father rolled his eyes with a smile and looked at Logan.

  “Good to have you, Logan.” He waved at the classroom. “Grab one of the books off of the shelf over there. Front seat right side is open.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Logan nodded and headed towards his seat.

  “You’re excused, dear son.” My father shooed me away. “We’re discussing And Then There Were None and we don’t need your negativity here.”

  “Fine.” I threw my hands up comically and headed towards the door as the bell rang.

  “You’re late to Spanish, Holden.”

  “Everyone dies in the end!” I hollered over my shoulder as I opened the door.

  The class filled with groans and my dad shot me an evil look.

  “It’s in the title for crying out loud!” I rolled my eyes, exasperated.

  All of the students and my father looked put out by me but Logan was trying to cover a laugh from his seat. I gave him a smile and slipped out of the door before my father or a freshman could throw something at me. As I walked away, I couldn’t help but feel bad for Logan. Being the new kid was hard enough but being the new kid whose ex-school’s curriculum didn’t match up with Dextrus’s, forcing him to take classes with lower classmen completely reeked. He didn’t seem like the type that would let that keep him down, though.

  Third period Spanish involved mindlessly ratting off Spanish verbs while my mind was on other…things. Thom was having me give him a full body massage on a beach somewhere where the beaches had pure white sand, crystal clear blue water, tiki huts, tropical drinks, and no one else to bother us. My hands moved over his pecs and biceps, down over his abs, over and around his thighs, his calves, up over his buttocks, and towards his crotch. Every time that my mind moved to my hand around the length of him, Mrs. Abrantes would do or say something that ruined my concentration.

  I can easily focus on two things at once, but only if my flow isn’t disrupted. Mrs. Abrantes, the AP Spanish Language teacher, had a knack for knowing when I was coasting in her class. Often, she would call on me to say something in Spanish, disrupting my flow of repetition in speaking and daydreaming at the same time. It wasn’t that she didn’t like me or anything—we got along just fine—but she didn’t like it when I was getting by too easily. Maybe she knew my potential and hated to see it wasted, or maybe she just didn’t want her students to enjoy the class. Either could have been accurate.

  When the bell rang after fourth period—AP Government and Politics—I made my way to the food court. Dextrus Academy was too uppity to have something called a “cafeteria”, so they had a food court. It was a pretty accurate descriptor, actually. In the courtyard between buildings, there was a salad bar, a taco cart, Indian food, a vegetarian café, and the standard “American school lunch”, all within small brick buildings with large serving windows that were closed by large shutters when lunch wasn’t in service. There was even a coffee and tea bar, though it wasn’t nearly as popular as the taco cart. All of the students were on a meal plan, as if we were in college, so any student could order from any area of their choosing.

  The best part about Dextrus Academy is the schedule. All of us go to school from eight in the morning until four in the afternoon. At Dextrus there were seven periods each day, each lasting fifty minutes. That meant we got an hour for lunch. We’re not expected to walk to the courtyard, order food, and scarf it down like a bunch of wild animals. However, there are very strict rules during lunch. No one but teachers can leave campus, you have to eat in the courtyard or an attached, covered dining area, and you can’t have more than one caffeinated beverage per lunch. It seems a little stringent—but some of the students can’t control themselves.

  I was standing in line at the coffee and tea bar, ordering a cold brew with sweet cream a
nd a turkey, bacon, and avocado panini when I felt the tap on my shoulder. Turning to find out who had approached me, I saw Logan, looking lost and confused. I was wondering if his last class had finally pushed him over the edge of his stress threshold.

  “Hey, Logan.” I smiled. “What’s up?”

  “I have no idea what is going on here.” He gave a desperate chuckle.

  “Taco cart, Indian food, vegetarian café, American, salad bar, and…the coffee and tea bar.” I gave a grand wave towards the people behind the counter gathering my order. “Your meal plan lets you order from whichever one you want, whatever you want—within reason. Don’t try to make a ten-pound salad like A.J. did one year. The staff get pretty pissed if you take all of the romaine. And if you order twenty tacos, they’re going to look at you like you’re an asshole. Well, ‘cause only an asshole, like A.J. would do that. And don’t try to go to more than one place. It just ruins the flow of everything. Other than that, just stay in the courtyard or the dining rooms off to the side there, and don’t order more than one caffeinated beverage. Oh—and be nice to everyone.”

  Logan’s eyes got wider as I spoke. I decided to have mercy on him. When Mrs. Robinson, one of the ladies in the coffee and tea bar came back with my order, I decided to show Logan how it was done.

  “Mrs. Robinson,” I drew her attention to a wide-eyed Logan, “Logan is a new student today. Will you be extra gentle with him?”

  Mrs. Robinson laughed.

  “Of course, Cooper.” She leaned over the counter towards Logan. “What do you want to eat, hon? All sandwiches come with chips if you want. All the coffees are twenty ounces, we have bottled water, all kinds of teas, juices…”

  Logan blew out air comically. “Can I just have what he has?”

  He motioned at the wrapped sandwich, bag of chips, and drink in my hands.

  “Any food allergies?” Mrs. Robinson asked.

  “None so far.” Logan shrugged.

  Mrs. Robinson gave him a wink and went about getting him the same order as mine.

  “That was a test to see how honest you are.” I chuckled before taking a sip of my coffee. “Mrs. Robinson—well, all the cook staff—know if you have allergies or not. That’s asked at enrollment and administration funnels that information to them.”

  Logan cocked an eyebrow.

  “My dad told them I was allergic to coffee when I enrolled right before freshmen year—just to torture me.” I took another sip through the metal straw that I had to deposit in the correct bin at the end of lunch. “He let that nonsense go on for two weeks before he told them he was mistaken.”

  Logan laughed. After delivering him to my dad’s class and the coffee story, he was getting a pretty clear picture of my relationship with my father.

  “Look,” Logan blushed, “I don’t really know anyone else yet, and everyone in my classes…”

  “Are freshmen or sophomores?” I laughed.

  “Yeah, so, do you, um, think that maybe…”

  “Of course, you can sit with me.” I laughed. “As long as you’re not an open mouth masticator.”

  Logan gave a confused laugh.

  “Chew with your mouth closed, man.” I laughed with him.

  “Oh!” He blushed. He did that a lot. “I will, man.”

  Mrs. Robinson brought Logan’s order, welcomed him to school, offered him her assistance anytime he needed it, and sent us on our way. I led Logan through the courtyard, greeting acquaintances here and there, introducing Logan to a few, before we finally arrived to the shady area under the ancient sugar maple in the northwest corner of the courtyard. I plopped down on the ground and spread out, setting down my sandwich and coffee. Logan looked back at all of the people in the courtyard sitting at the concrete and metal tables, gave me an inquisitive look, shrugged, and sat down next to me.

  “You sit here all alone at lunch?” Logan asked as we were unwrapping our sandwiches.

  “Not for long.” I snorted.

  Just as if they had been summoned, Alex flew in out of nowhere, suddenly beside me and out of breath, holding half of a cup of soda in his fist. A.J., Martin, and Caden all slid in behind him, as if they were all trying to steal home plate. All four were laughing like hyenas and looking like the group of fucktards that they were. My five closest friends—though, Alex was my only true friend—were kind of embarrassing at times. Alex reached down, still laughing to grab half of my sandwich from the paper wrapping and I quickly slapped his hand away.

  “Go get your own, assface.” I snarled at him.

  “I already had tacos.” He was high on caffeine.

  Obviously, one caffeine drink maximum was the rule that Alex had chosen to break today.

  “Come on, Coop.” Alex pleaded. “I’m starving, man.”

  I shoved half of my sandwich at him and grabbed the other half and took a bite before someone else asked for it.

  “Why is your old man such a fucking asshole, Coop?” A.J. groaned as he laid on the grass across from me. “I don’t have time to read a book every week!”

  “I know it’s hard to hold a book when you only have the one hand free, A.J., but you’ll have to take that up with my dad.” I shrugged, making everyone else laugh.

  “He told the freshmen they had two weeks to read And Then There Were None!” Martin wailed. “But he gives the seniors one week to read The Goldfinch! It’s like 800 pages! That’s not fair.”

  “You had two weeks to read And Then There Were None when you were a freshman—and you’re in his AP class now.” I rolled my eyes. “Suck it up, buttercup.”

  “Well, he needs to get laid.” Martin shoved a mass of curls out of his eyes before pulling a bag of Ruffles from one of the dining areas out of thin air.

  “Stop trying to screw my dad, okay, Sloan?” I replied, making everyone laugh again. “He thinks you’re an okay guy, but he just wants to be friends.”

  Logan laughed a little louder than everyone else, suddenly drawing their attention away from me. As soon as he realized all of the attention as on him, he stopped laughing, looking absolutely petrified.

  “Oh, everyone, this is Logan.” I stated blandly. “He’s new. Logan, this is a group of blithering idiots.”

  Everyone introduced themselves enthusiastically, but Alex seemed a little more reserved, as though trying to size Logan up. I refrained from rolling my eyes for the fiftieth time that day and just ate my sandwich in peace as everyone grilled Logan about where he had come from, his previous school, his music preferences, and so on and so forth. Apparently, Logan was pretty eclectic with his taste in music, thought his last school was nice, but nothing like Dextrus, and that had been in San Diego. He loved to surf but didn’t imagine he’d get a chance to do much of that in Vermont.

  “Fuck off.” I growled under my breath as Alex tried to shove a hand in my bag of chips when I opened it. “You already had half of my sandwich.”

  “Coop, come on man.” Alex stuck out his bottom lip and gave me puppy dog eyes, his hand making claw motions at the bag.

  “Oh, freaking take ‘em.” I shoved the bag at him.

  “Score!” Alex exclaimed before practically inhaling the bag of chips.

  Then he went back to examining Logan quietly as the rest of our friends grilled him about himself. When lunch was coming to a close, Logan seemed a lot more relaxed about Dextrus as his new school. The six of us disposed of our trash as a unit and then slowly broke off on our own towards our fifth period classes. I discovered during trash disposal and returning of our eating and drinking utensils that Logan was in AP Psychology with me in fifth period.

  “Can you show me to class, Coop?” I internally cringed that Logan had already picked up on using the nickname I had been saddled with.

  “Sure.” I shrugged.

  Alex was standing there, eyeing us both as we stood by the trashcans at near the taco cart.

  “Are we still on for the movies after school, Cooper?” Alex asked, using my actual name for once.

&
nbsp; I frowned for a second, wondering when we had made plans to go to the movies after school on a Monday. Suddenly, I realized that was Alex’s code for wanting to talk to me at length about something in private.

  “Yeah, of course, man.” I nodded.

  “Okay.” He was suddenly smiling. “See ya’ in Calculus, homo.”

  With that, he was gone. I shrugged at Alex and Logan gave a frown at Alex’s method of saying “goodbye”, but for the most part, we both ignored it and moved on with our day. Logan and I chit-chatted as we walked to the science building and then he was introduced to yet another teacher. Luckily, Logan was sat across the room from me, so I didn’t have to worry about talking to him and making him feel welcome as we listened to the lecture planned for the day. Instead, I could get back to my daydreaming.

  This time, Thom was rubbing me down while he was naked, and I could feel a certain body part touch against me as he moved.

  Alex followed me out of Calculus at the end of the day, his whole body a live wire of anxious energy as we left campus. We both piled into our own cars and drove across town to one of our favorite coffee places—Joan’s Beanery. Not the cleverest name, but you don’t have to be clever when your coffee is so delicious that it’s almost intoxicating. Alex and I sat at a table in a secluded corner with our newly purchased cups of coffee. I had barely had time to take a sip of my iced mocha before he got straight to business.

  “So…Logan seemed nice.” Alex smiled at me, one eyebrow raised.

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “He’s my new lab partner in chem. Dr. Sanders assigned him as my partner since I’ve been the odd man out.”

  “Lucky ass.” Alex shook his head. “Dr. Sanders wouldn’t let me be your lab partner sophomore year.”

  “Because he knew you’d let me do all the work so you’d get an easy A, dipshit.” I sighed.

  “Oh, yeah, well…nah, that’s true.” Alex laughed. “I can’t deny it.”

  “You still somehow managed an A minus with A.J. as a partner, so no big.” I snorted.

  Alex and I laughed for a minute, sipping at our coffees. Finally, Alex leveled me with his eyes and I knew what was coming.