You're walking to school and wearing your brand new leather jacket and shoes which accent your blonde hair and blue eyes. You take the same route you always
take, leaving your development and passing the ghetto of the town to get to your public high school.
Hang on...
This is what you were doing yesterday morning. What's happened since then? Your memory of all yesterday afternoon and evening is sketchy to say the least - hell,
you can't even remember if you went home last night. There's bound to be someone who notices at school; that is, if your parents haven't already sent out for police
search parties.
You see some other students approaching as you get nearer the school. There's your other white mates - Matt, a bit of a computer geek with his greasy brown hair
and chronic acne but someone who makes you all laugh, and Micky, a blonde All-American beefcake of a teen who, at 16, has considerable female attention. He's
got another one of them on his arm now - Rachael, you recognise her as a cheerleader from the year above. He must have an extra special package to keep them
all coming on to him. You find yourself drifting into thinking about Micky's finely chiselled face, alredy sporting a respectable bushy goatee for a sixteen year old,
and how the blonde chest hairs peep out from the top of his shirt. You wonder if the hairs thicken then join together with the hair around his nipples and under his
arms and how far they stretch down his chest before they meet the great sweep of hair at his...
You come to your senses like someone has slapped you on the face. You're not some chicken-shit faggot, like some of those queers in your school, and you're
disgusted that you're thinking about a GUY in that way. Hell, the girl on his arm is a hot babe but you were ignoring her! A sudden build up of pain at the back of
your stomach makes you feel sick and lunge forward.
"Hey, the honky wants to be my bitch!"
You hear the shouts of the nigger students who have walked up to you. Drey, one of the biggest of them, is standing behind you and leering.
"Look's like he's remembering how we dealt with maggoty white trash like that. Jus' as well, for he has more of it in store".
They all run off laughing. You pick yourself and walk through the main door into school.
Where do you go next?