text: Dear Julia, High school fucking blows. That might be a bit of an understatement. It doesn't really blow, per say, only tear apart everything you've ever thought to be true about life. There's no more skipping homework assignments, slacking off on upcoming tests, or missing class for being sick. There's no such thing as free time or relaxation anymore. There's no place in this eight-month period of time for video games, friends, or parties. If you're like me and have to support yourself because your family can't afford to, you also have to work a job, which means every waking moment of your life is dedicated to hard work, homework, and the elusive 4.0 GPA. There's no time for flirting, romance, or a girlfriend. All of those things merely amount to wasted time, and every fleeting minute is time you could spend brushing up on a recent topic, or even looking ahead to what you could be learning in the future! You could set me up on a date, pay for everything, even taxi me around so I could save my precious money for gas, and I'd still wonder how this helps me find the derivative of the function f(x). Mallory Fishmann was the answer I was looking for. She fucked up all of the above. Ever hate a girl so much you wanted to rape her? No? Good. No sane person ever goes out and rapes someone. Rape is bad. Everyone knows that. It's one of those things that frequents the nightly news, commonly enough to where we dismiss it because it's just "one of those bad things that happens". That sure didn't stop Mallory from getting my brother thrown in jail, though. Ryan was a great guy. Starting running-back on the football team, a solid 3.8 GPA off the field, and (as the ladies put it) 'devilishly handsome'. He made the ladies swoon and sigh, gawk and giggle, but he never really paid much attention to it. He had more important things to do in life, like volunteer at the local crisis ministries to help deliver groceries to the less fortunate. He was the perfect example of the perfect human being God graced this Earth with. To Portland, Oregon, he was a hero. To 1309 Knoxville Court, he was my twin brother. In the typical cliche fashion, I'm obviously the exact opposite of Ryan. I sit at my computer playing video games and making YouTube videos. I'm pasty, scrawny, and my choice of clothing was about as far "off-fleek" as humanly possible. Both of my past relationships have been total busts. One was suicidal, and the other was bipolar, bisexual... and suicidal. I'd practically given up on girls. I mean, who needs them? Who needs the warm, tender embrace of a woman, with her soft hands slowly gliding across the surface of my skin, her eyes drawing me closer and closer to her face, her lips so enticing and... I haven't given much thought to girls recently. Ryan and I were only similar in the fact that we really didn't pay attention to love for a while. It was only during my Junior year that I started to branch out and try hanging out with some of the girls from the anime club. For Ryan, he basically had his pick of the crop when it came to a girlfriend. He could point to any girl, say her name, and wet floor signs would appear out of nowhere. I've literally seen fights between girls arguing over who he winked at, but that's at the far end of the psycho-cheerleader spectrum. He could have chosen any girl in the school, but he chose the one girl that wouldn't even give him a second glance: Mallory. You should've seen the way he acted around her. Ryan went from a man of confidence to, well, ME in an instant. He didn't know how to talk, how to act, and this only made Mallory laugh at him. But, in his oh so persistent mind, this never stopped him. He spent weeks talking to her and working up the courage to ask her out, and she said no. Ryan was shattered, but not completely broken. They stayed friends long enough for the second attempt at dating, to which Ryan got a positive response. Was it the hardest thing he's ever done? Not at all. But for him, dating Mallory was like getting a full ride to Stanford: the ultimate jackpot. They were honestly really good together. They seemed to genuinely enjoy each other's company, and I was happy for him. I was dating some girl in band during that point in our lives (her name was Sarah. Ended up being a total whore and dating my best friend later. I'm not salty at all), and generally life was good. Until Mallory fucked it up. Or, rather, claimed that Ryan fucked HER up. One day the police showed up at our door. Our dad answered, and immediately Ryan was ushered out the door into the luminescent cop car parked outside. Dad demanded to know what happened, and learned the hard 'truth': Ryan had raped Mallory, and there was enough evidence to take her claim to court. As the cop and my brother rolled out of the driveway, my dad pulled out his phone to call my mom and find out what to do. She didn't answer. She never answered anymore. I blame it on the twenty-something year old bellhop from that one hotel in the Bahamas they stayed at on their anniversary. Jerk. Ryan lost the case. He was tried as an adult and sentenced for five years, three on good behavior. Ryan went to prison, Mallory went home, and I became the twin brother of "the guy who raped that chick". There's a reason I told you about how they met. I don't think he did it. I think Mallory is a liar, and that I unfortunately got the stupid backlash from Ryan's arraignment. So you know how I said that my first statement was an understatement? Let me amend that: High school "unwillingly and forcefully" fucking blows.