The Exceptions

Disclaimer: This is the work of myself and myself alone. Please ask permission before you borrow any characters or put it in a different archive. Thank you.

A/N: This is a work in progress and there\'s nothing naughty, yet. xD The layout is a bit odd, given the diary format. Reviews keep me going, if you\'re interested, please review! xD

Day One

Nick

It’s said that high school days are the best of your life. This might very well be true, but there are two main flaws when it comes to this statement. One - I don’t go to high school, because I’m not American. Two - I think they’re talking about everyone that’s not me. It’s not that I’m… discontent with my life, it’s simply that Jack Warthers just emptied a pot of yoghurt over my head. You see, he’s a Dumb Jock and one of the many whose hit list I am apparently on.

I suppose you want to know why so many people dislike me. Well, they don’t dislike me parse, it’s my group. You see, everyone in Secondary School has a group. Like I said before, Jack Warthers and all of his ‘Best Buddies’ are Dumb Jocks. There are many groups, too many to list. Sometimes you have to make a new one up when things change around a bit, but everyone agrees that these groups exist. Just ask them. Everyone belongs in at least one group. However, to every rule there is an exception. There’s usually between one to five exceptions in a year, depending on the size of the school. Unfortunately for me, I am one of three, the other two being Myra and J.D.

Myra Runwell has cigarette burns running up both arms. She is not, however, an emo and will probably punch out anyone who says she is. She says that cutting is for pussies and she doesn’t wear her hair to cover half her face, which she insists the emo kids only do to hide their big, emo tear. Because of this, her emo tear is out on public display at all times, something she has put on every morning for three years now. It’s a big, fat ‘fuck you’ to the emo kids and immediately strikes out any hopes of her getting into that little party.

It’s kind of hard to tell if Myra is pretty. Maybe she’d be pretty with hair, I don’t know - she shaves it off, not quite to the skin but leaves it with stubble. You know, military style. That’s what Myra wants to do, she wants to fight wars. At the moment, all she fights are bitches. Many, many bitches - I’m sure you can imagine the cutting remarks that greet a girl who shaves her head and wears Salvation Army clothing.

Then there’s J.D. That’s not his real name, by the way. No, that’s Tobias, but he re-named himself J.D. because he likes Johnny Depp and Jack Daniels. Unfortunately, his teachers don’t seem to agree to this name change and refuse to call him it in register, but he has them calling him it in class through sheer stubborn will. J.D.’s like that. He gets what he wants, fuck the consequences. When J.D. joined the school, he was all set to be one of the Rich Snobs. Yeah, his family is really rich. Fuck, they own a museum. Not a small one, either. Anyway, he was all set - then he walked through the door. J.D.’s dress sense is a bit odd on the best of days. For the first day he’d wanted to make an impression so he came in wearing an eye-hurting bright green shorts and orange top. That wasn’t the particularly shocking thing, though. No - that would have been the lamb on the end of the leash he was carrying. That was the first of many times that J.D. visited the headmaster’s office. God knows where he got a lamb in the middle of a city, though. I’ve asked, but he’s never given me a proper answer.

The thing about J.D. is that whilst he looks his eighteen years, he’s probably about eight in his head. This is funny given the fact that he gets the best grades out of all of us. There’s no real reason why J.D. is the way he is, I asked once when I went to pick him up. His mother told me that J.D. seemed in a race to get to a particular age, then just stayed there. She said that they had thought he was a genius because at the age of two he had a mental age of somewhere between four and six. Unfortunately, he never really grew older than that. Now his father is a drunk, but his mother loves him no matter what. She’s a real mum and I like her.

J.D. doesn’t suffer the same… problems we do because everyone is secretly hoping that he’ll join their group. If he was just rich, they might not care so much, but he is also utterly beautiful. Most of the girls in the school want him and even some of the boys. Every bit of eccentricity and weirdness only makes him ‘cuter’ and ‘more mysterious’. With them, he just can’t go wrong. Unfortunately for the girls, J.D. is flamboyantly gay. Sometimes I wonder why he hangs out with Myra and me because he could be and practically is the most popular boy in the school, but when I ask he just smiles at me like I’m stupid.

As for me… well, you should probably refer to one of the others for that. I don’t like talking about myself.

Myra

I fucking hate writing, it’s a load of shit. Fucking Nick has once again decided that the people he hangs around with are too illiterate for his liking. Pompous ass. I’ll fucking show him, especially as there’s a hundred pounds riding on this fucking deal. If I can get J.D. to keep it up, the Prince of gay-assed literacy will be out by two hundred pounds, which is rocking. Maybe more, even. He’s paying us one hundred pounds for every month we keep a diary in, but we have to write in it once a day. Of course, the prick insists that it’s a ‘journal’. Fucker. He\'s the Writer type, always insisting that we read books and all that shit. He thinks this will \'be good for our souls\'. Yeah, right.

J.D.

I like watching Nick.

A/N: Chapter two will be the next day. Review, whether you liked it or not. xD