“I’m not a square!”… “I’m not a square!” he shouted again as he was pushed down onto the cold, hard ground. 

“You are a square” said the boy in the red and white striped t-shirt as he frowned in distaste. 

“Your friends are squares, and you’re a square. Everybody knows it, and everyone at this school, hates squares.” he spat out the last words as if they were poison, dangerously sitting on the edge of his tongue.

As Elliot listened to what the boy said, he knew that he wanted him dead. 

He shut his eyes tight and fought with all his might not to leap up and cave in the striped boy’s yellow head. 


The school bell broke up the would-be fight, just in time for children to flow out of the main doors. 

Elliot opened his eyes and saw that the striped boy had run off, out of sight from any teachers. He lay there on the ground like a weirdo as he heard one girl whisper loudly to her friend. A hand suddenly appeared in front of his face to help him up, and to his own distaste, it was the group of actual squares he had been associated with.

Elliot huffed and accepted the helping hand to pull himself up. “Thanks” he muttered as he brushed himself off.

“You okay man? Was it Troy again?” the spectacled square asked.

“Or was it Billy?” asked the bad-haired one.

“I don’t know. I don’t keep track of their names..” Elliot grumbled as he set off towards the canteen.

“What were you doing out of class anyway?” asked the strangest of all the squares, as he removed a worm from his pocket and held it up for inspection.

Elliot scrunched up his nose at the peculiar wormy kid and casually replied “I don’t need to go to all the lessons, just the good ones.”

“So you do like going to some of the lessons, just face it Elliot! You enjoy learning, you’re good at it! You’re a square like the rest of us.” the glazed one piped up.

“I’m NOT a square! You guys are all straight-laced and weird. Not a foot out of line, ever! You don’t fit in but you try to, you follow their rules, not me, I’m NOT a square!” Elliot stopped to compose himself before entering the dining hall with the squares in tow.

“Okay fine! You’re not like us. But you’re not like those other kids either. Even if you do skip class..” replied the kid, pushing his glasses up his nose.

The bad-haired one decided it was a good time to throw in his two cents. “Which you shouldn’t. You make us look bad when you do that.”

Elliot turned around and faced them with a look of contempt. “Look. I’ll do what I want to do. You should worry about yourself, not what I’m doing.”

“Or not doing.” added the wormy kid.

“Exactly.” Elliot retorted.

He shook his head in disdain and turned away from the kids that wanted a cooler edition of themselves in their group. He looked around the room for a place to sit.  As he searched the clusters of kids that flocked together like their lives depended on it, he realised that he didn’t fit in to any particular group, and was a shadow in between all of the commotion. He walked towards the only empty table at the far end of the room and sat down. 

Within moments of taking out his book followed by his lunch, a strawberry flavoured yogurt flew through the air, powered by the chants of a thousand kids. As it landed directly on top of Elliot’s head and glooped down over his face, he stood up to face the eruption of laughter that bounced off of every wall. He wiped the pink goop from his eyes and picked up his book from the table before flipping down his Raybans from his head, and with more purpose and style than any other kid in the room could muster, he skidded sideways on the slippery mess, flicking one hand out to the side. The laughter quickly fell quiet as he sauntered through the crowds, and as Elliot looked down at his physics text book he smirked and whispered “Just you wait my friends, just you wait…”